Before you get into this super long (and maybe highly informative) chapter, I would like to point out a mistake I made (and subsequently fixed) in regards to the name of Kid's village. I used the current name of the city his village is taken from (Drammen), when I intended to use the Old Norse name for it, which is Drafn. The reason I picked this city is in part because of location, but also because of the name. It's name is derived from the Old Norse word drǫfn, which means 'wave'. And we all know what Nami's name means - which comes into play later in this chapter - so hopefully you can guess my reason for picking it.
Also I wrote poetry/lyrics for this chapter for the first time in... forever. Please go easy on me with that.
Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda.
A Tale of Knots
Nami was hesitant to go anywhere with the two men. No matter how merciful they were in taking her in, she knew better than to easily trust strangers. But letting them take her to their village was far better than the alternative. She doubted she could survive another day or two alone, not with a fever.
She would take advantage of their kindness only long enough to ensure her survival. She only needed a fortnight, maybe a month at the absolute most, and then she would pick a new direction to head. Remaining with anyone for too long would be dangerous, not only for herself, but for any who took her in. She would keep moving until she felt it safe to settle down somewhere. Arlong surely wouldn't search for her come the winter, and would likely assume she died if he heard no news come the next spring.
Then again, he spent years following dead legends until he found her. One winter might not be enough.
As the men packed up their camp, Killer spared her a bar of soap and piece of clean linen to wash her face and hands. She desperately wanted a bath, but that was at least a day away, so she was grateful enough to have a chance to clean some of the grim off. The chilly water from the stream cleared the lingering fog of her fever for a short time, and left her feeling moderately refreshed for the first time in a week. She even had a chance to comb out some knots in her hair.
She still eagerly looked forward to a warm tub of water.
Once she finished cleaning up, the pair packed the last of their things, doused the fire, and led their horses to a thin path that cut through the trees to the west of their camp. Nami slowly stumbled along after their longer strides. Kid was nearly two heads taller than her - she barely reached his collar - and Killer wasn't much shorter. In her weary and injured state, there was no chance she would be able to keep up with them. Luckily they stopped at the path, giving her a chance to catch up as Kid handed the reins of his dark brown mare to Killer. He waved her over to him, and the second she was in reach, grabbed her by the waist to easily lift her onto the horse's back.
She swatted at his hands and tried to protest his help, but he ignored her as he settled her on the thick fleece draped over the mare's leather saddle, her legs draped to one side. She knew with her bruised side and injured shoulder, getting on the horse herself wouldn't have been easy, but it would have been better than dealing with the ache that came from the bruising as his hand dug into it. Both too stubborn, they silently glared at each other as she adjusted her cloak so it wrapped tight around her torso. She refused to thank him for manhandling her again, even if it was the quickest way onto the horse.
When he felt she was secure enough, he left her without a word to retake the reins and led his horse behind Killer's smaller grey.
The first leg of the journey was made mostly in silence as they wound their way through the woods, following the creek they had camped beside. The most either man spoke were warnings of rough footing when the path narrowed near a rocky ledge that jutted out over the water. Otherwise, all she had to listen to was the babbling water, the calls of birds hidden high in the trees, and the horses' clomping hooves and muted snorts.
She could have fallen asleep like that if she didn't have to take care to remain in the saddle.
The sun was high in the sky when the trees thinned and the path led them into a wide river valley. The men took a much needed rest after a morning of walking, and settled in the grass at water's edge for a few minutes. While they sat to drink from their leather water skins and share a small, dry loaf of bread, Nami lingered with the horses. Kid had helped her to the ground, again ignoring her protests, but rather than join them, she stood away to stretch her legs and back.
The jostling sway of the horse as they navigated the woods had left her side cramped, but certainly no worse than it would have been if she had walked that distance herself. She was glad that they gave her the mount. She doubted she would have reached that valley alone, at least she wouldn't have made it that far so quickly. And she would have been too fatigued to continue with her fever persisting.
She also stayed with the horses to keep some distance between her and the men. The hours of silence hadn't help lessen her wariness of them. It was a silence carried between strangers, only more recognizable now that the men sat together with low conversation she was excluded from.
She felt more comfortable with the horses, anyway. She ran her hand over the brown mare's thick mane, threading her fingers through the soft hair as it enjoyed the fresh grass. The horse snorted and stepped forward, nudging her hand as it passed over a muscular shoulder. She smiled as she realized the horse was likely just as content with her company as she was with its.
"Oi, woman," Kid called out suddenly. Nami turned back to glower at him, or more specifically at his continued disuse of her name. "I hope you're not thinking of making off with my horse."
Her scowl deepened. "I doubt I could get very far before you caught up to me."
Kid grinned. "Guess you're not as stupid as you appear."
She pursed her lips to restrain the urge to snap at him for the insult. He didn't appear to care if she was offended or annoyed, and she didn't have the energy to bicker, anyway.
She reminded herself that they were helping her. No matter how infuriating one of them had to be, she would remain civil until she was well enough to be on her own again.
She was about to dismiss him altogether when he waved her over, and she shut her eyes for a brief moment to hide the exhausted roll she gave them before going to join the men.
"Killer wants to check your shoulder," Kid explained, gesturing that she sit beside his friend and let him tend to her injury.
Nodding, she unpinned her cloak and eased herself down into the grass. She kept her hair draped over her right shoulder to give Killer access to the wrappings. She didn't try to watch him as he gently unwound the cloth, instead focusing on the river. When the bandaging tugged at her wound, she winced and instinctively drew away, but Killer's firm hand on her shoulder stayed her. With a deep breath, she did her best to hold still for him.
The flesh was tender and she swallowed down her whimpers when he prodded around. She heard him hum, and she wondered if that was good or bad. He didn't deign to share his thoughts.
"Who tattooed you?" Kid asked.
The question was unexpected, though she knew she should get used to him asking them whenever they came to mind. He seemed inquisitive. Or maybe it was only because she was a stranger he took under his care that drove him to ask so many things.
That question… she didn't care to answer it, but his impatient glare forced her to.
"Jarl Arlong," she muttered quietly, her head bowed.
"The usurper?"
She nodded, and listened to his thoughtful hum.
"His sigil, then?"
Again she gave her answer with a silent nod and received another hum in return.
When he didn't ask another question, she dared to look up. Kid stared out at the river, eyes narrowed and jaw tense. He was thinking. Would he ask her more, or let the subject drop? She couldn't be sure.
"How are you feeling?" Killer spoke up, breaking into the heavy silence as he wrapped fresh bandages over her shoulder.
"Tired, but better than I was," she answered, glancing back at him with a small smile. "How does the wound look?"
She didn't miss the deepening frown he wore. That meant it wasn't good.
"Our healer might need to bleed it again. It seems to be building new infection," he explained.
That was far from good.
"Then we can't waste any more time here," Kid said. "With the pace we're going, it'll be nightfall by the time we reach Drafn. I'll refill the skins. Killer, get her back on my horse."
Nami still wasn't pleased with being picked up so easily and set on the horse like a child, but she grudgingly relented to being manhandled. It certainly was the easiest way into the saddle.
"Here," Kid grunted, offering up his waterskin once he came back to the horses. She took it with a more gracious smile, and drank a few sips while Kid checked that his packs were still secure behind the saddle. When she handed the skin back, he tied it to his belt and took his horse's reins, tugging the mare along once more.
The group was silent again, and Nami tried to focus on the louder flow of the river they followed, but she quickly grew bored. With her mind fatigued from fever, she worried that she might actually fall asleep that afternoon. That was the last thing she wanted to do atop that horse.
"May I ask you a question?" she called toward Kid. She didn't know if she wanted to converse with him, but it was better than letting the continued silence lull her mind.
He looked back at her with a thoughtful scowl, apparently just as uncertain of talking at length with her. After a moment, he gave a short nod, coupled with a grunt, and turned his head forward.
"Where were you coming from?" she asked. He glanced back again, brows furrowed in confusion, and she sighed. "Where had you two traveled to that took you away from Drafn?"
Kid grunted again and let his gaze leave her. She thought he might not bother answering, much to her irritation, but after a pause, he spoke.
"A small farm to the southeast," he answered.
"What took you there?"
"A woman from one of the farms in my territory divorced her husband at winter's end. We escorted her and her child to her uncle's steading."
Nami hummed. "That's unfortunate," she mused quietly.
"How so?" Kid asked.
"It's always unfortunate to hear a marriage failed," she said.
"Not this one," he remarked, glancing back to see her own confused expression. "The husband had taken to smacking her around after she had their son. Claimed the boy wasn't his."
"That's awful."
Kid snorted wryly. "And he still tried to refuse her the divorce."
"Even after accusing her of infidelity?"
"Mhm," Kid hummed. "He had no proof of her affair, but she had plenty of proof of his abuse. So when they came to me to settle the matter, I granted her the divorce."
"Well, I guess this time it's a good thing they separated," Nami said, Kid humming his agreement.
"And she's young still. She'll find a new husband."
"Hopefully one that's kinder," she huffed.
Kid glanced back, and she caught the corner of his smirk.
"What?" she snapped.
He shook his head and turned forward. "Nothing. I agree. A man should never unleash his temper on his wife."
She cocked her brow. "I'm surprised to hear you say that."
Again he looked back with a deep scowl. "Why do you say that? You think I'm capable of beating my wife?"
"Maybe not. I'm more surprised to hear you pass such harsh judgment on another man's temper when you seem to have one of your own."
His scowl only grew darker, showing a hint of the temper she spoke of.
"I know where to draw a line," he growled after a moment. "And I suppose I can say the same of you considering your anger this morning."
Her mouth fell open in an attempt to retort, but she found she had no argument against him. She did have a short temper.
When her mouth snapped shut and she glowered at him, Kid barked out a short laugh.
"Don't give me that look," he said, chuckling. "I'm not judging you. I like a woman with a little fire in her eyes and fight in her spirit. A woman like you wouldn't stand for a man abusing you."
She looked away from him, toward the river, and frowned in thought. She dealt with Arlong's abuse for eight years before she finally ran away, so she couldn't say if he was right. She wanted to believe she wouldn't, but if circumstances were different…
Kid's next bark of laughter broke her from those dark thoughts, and she looked toward him again. He didn't seem to notice her wandering thoughts. That was for the best.
"I bet any man who raises a hand to you will face a very dark fate," he remarked.
She hoped that was true, if nothing else. At least for one man in particular.
"I hope a man who raises a hand to any woman meets such a fate," she said, her voice colder than she meant it to be.
Kid was silent for a long moment, before he muttered an ominous "He will" and the conversation came to a terse conclusion.
Nami was right to worry about the silence of their group lulling her to sleep. The valley they traveled through had easier terrain, so the mare didn't jostle her as much, allowing her to relax in the saddle. The sound of the river only further soothed her, and she found her eyes shutting for longer and longer stretches. She fought off sleep as best she could, but caught herself jolting awake from time to time.
She wasn't sure if she was grateful when Kid began to hum sometime later. The low, throaty sound roused her from another bout of unwanted dozing. She shook her head to clear the fog in her mind and looked at the back of the man walking beside his horse, forcing herself to focus on him.
The afternoon had grown cloudy and cool, and she scented rain in the air. She drew her cloak around her to fight off the chilly breeze.
Kid didn't seem bothered by the cold with his heavy fur pelts, but she wondered if maybe the humming was an attempt to distract himself from the changing weather. Or maybe he was as bored as she was.
Whatever the reason, she was grateful to have something capture her attention, even if it was surprisingly soothing to listen to.
And then he began to sing.
He was quiet at first, as though keeping the words to himself. His rough voice came out with a lilt that flowed to the pace of his prior humming. The lilt was the only reason she knew he was singing, even with the guttural rumbling that laced his tone.
It wasn't a song she knew, or even remotely recognized, but she eagerly listened to the tale it told.
The King knew strength
A sword sharpened in waters of red
The King knew courage
His skin his armor, heedless of steel's bite
But the King craved to know
What the All-Father knew
The frenzy
The ecstasy
Eternal
She shut her eyes and buried her head into the fur around her collar as misting rain began to fall. Kid's story came louder, echoing through the rain, and she realized he was singing to ignore the cold.
Nine years he wandered Odin's path
Nine years he traveled beneath branches of ash
Through lands of giants
And caves of dwarves
In the mountain crags
Skulls he found
Of the Ravenous
And the Greedy
Teeth sharp, breath bitter
They bit at his armor, daggers of bone
Until he bled, and bled, and bled
And his courage fled
Nami glanced up, frowning as the imagery came through his words. Once again, her gaze settled on his back, and the dark brown fur he wore on his shoulders. Fur he had lent her as she slept.
The fur of a wolf.
A shiver ran down her spine.
To the forest he ran
Where feathers he found
Of Thought
And of Memory
They fell upon him
A sea of black
Until his sword turned to rust
And his strength turned to dust
And there he drowned
In steel maggots
Until he found what he sought
A drum beat in his veins
A pounding within his heart
Pulsing
Pulsing
Pulsing
To the fields he went
Where spears grew from earth
His sacrifices to collect
The King found strength
In his weakness
The King found courage
In his fear
With wild eyes, his shield he bit
His fear ran from him
Its teeth devouring his prey
With roaring cries, his sword he raised
His weakness flew from him
Its feathers drowning his prey
To Odin
To Odin
To the All-Father, he sang
Until finally he found
The great hall gilded
Of the Master's realm
Where his ecstasy remained eternal
Kid's voice trailed into a wordless hum once more, but Nami barely heard it over the cacophony of her nightmare returning. She didn't remember falling asleep, but she saw the wolf, nonetheless. Broken and bloody at the feet of a giant. The rain pouring over them filled with screams and sobs.
She stared into unseeing, rusty brown eyes until a hand gripped her arm and jerked her awake.
But the eyes were still there.
"Oi," Kid grunted, his rust colored eyes sweeping over her with open concern before the worry was locked away behind a carefully guarded expression.
She blinked, hoping her nightmare would leave her, that his eyes would be different. She couldn't breathe. Her lungs ached, her pants of air not enough to fill them. Cold settled in her chest, she couldn't stop shivering, but her head continued to burn.
"Killer," Kid called to his friend, turning away from her to beckon the other man over. They didn't say anything more as Kid dragged her off the horse and set her on a damp rock. She realized then that it was raining harder. Even beneath the tree they sought shelter from, large drops fell through the leaves to splash on her brow and eyes. Kid's face filled her vision, his fair skin damp with stray red hairs stuck to his temples.
It was all she could focus on as he pressed a warm hand to her forehead.
She finally shut her eyes to blissful darkness at the pressure. She didn't think about her actions as she leaned into the touch. It was warm, yet still it cooled her.
"She's burning up," she heard him mutter. She couldn't stop her whimper when he pulled his hand away. It was replaced a second later, this time with a cool, wet cloth. "And she's too pale."
"This rain isn't helping," said Killer.
She felt something pull at her eyelid until it was forced upon. Through a haze she once more found her vision filled with Kid. His eyes hadn't changed. She didn't know why that made her want to cry.
"We need to get her to the healer," Kid decided, letting her eye fall shut again.
"Leave me," she heard herself whisper. It was idiotic and reckless. She would die if they did, but she was beginning to fear that if they didn't leave her, their fate would be far worse. "I'll be fine."
"Don't be stupid. You'll die," Kid growled. His anger surprised her, but she tried not to think about that.
She felt someone lift her up. She wanted to struggle, they were treating her like a helpless child again, but her limbs refused to move. She was tired.
She heard the jangle of stirrups, a grunt, and then whoever held her lifted her higher. She felt different arms cradle her. Heard a heartbeat beneath her ear. There was a brush of fur against her cheek, soft and warm. So warm.
"You're a berserker," she whispered. She didn't know why she said that, but it felt important.
His voice rumbled around her. "That usurper of yours one, too?"
She felt movement beneath her. The horse was kicked into a steady canter, the hooves thundering over wet soil at a faster beat. The rain pelted her face and the wind bit her skin, but a hand tightened at her shoulder, pulling her close. The fur was drawn over her, drowning her in darkness.
"No," she answered with a gentle shake of her head. She sighed and sank into the heat. "He's a son of the sea." She heard him grunt, curious or confused. "Of Aegir."
"A giant…" she heard him mutter on the edge of her consciousness.
Whatever else he had to say was lost. All she could hear was his steady heartbeat as she slipped into a beautiful, dreamless sleep.
When she woke again, the horse had slowed to a trot and she was still surrounded by Kid's fur cloak. She shifted in his arms to peek out, curious of her surroundings. The rain had stopped, the clouds thinned enough to let her see the sun descending on the western horizon. They were still in a river valley, but they were making a gentle, sloping descent toward the east.
Her mouth fell open at the sight in the distance. Faint puffs of smoke rose from the village set at the end of the river, where it spilled into an open bay. Two docks extended out where she could spy longboats, and even a large trading vessel, floating in the fjord. Further into the hills surrounding the village, she could see the clear farm fields with the scampering movement of sheep and cattle, mixed into thick woods.
"You're awake," Kid's voice rumbled above her. He sounded surprised, but when she looked up, his expression was stoic. "Thought you'd sleep through tomorrow, you seemed that far gone."
She frowned.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, shifting to let his furs fall away and reveal more of her face.
"Better," she answered quietly. "But you should have left me."
He scowled.
"I'm gonna blame that stubbornness on the fever," he muttered.
She almost laughed. When she was better, he'd see how wrong he was.
"Is that Drafn?" she asked.
"It is," Kid grunted.
He shifted her in his lap when she moved to look forward again. She went rigid at the feeling of his arm at her waist, but fought the urge to push him away. She'd only push herself off the horse in the process. And he had just raced her through a storm to reach the village before sundown, shielding her from the cold wind with his cloak.
He could have listened to her and left her behind. She understand why he hadn't, but she knew she should be grateful and trust him.
A wooden bridge crossed the river to the northern side of the valley, where most of the village was built on the mouth of the bay. The path was well worn leading into the village, wide enough for carts to pass by. Kid's horse trotted over the ruts dug into the dirt from the carts, jostling her at rougher points, but Kid held her tight so she had no fear of falling from her perch.
An archway made of thin, white birch signaled the entrance into the village. For all its similarity to any village she might have found, it felt like a completely foreign place compared to her home.
Drafn was bigger than her village, spread out along the bay with small homes built of wood and thatch, lining a web of dirt paths. Her village was small and quiet, most of the people hiding in their homes when they didn't venture out to tend their gardens or see to their animals for as short a time as they could. They were too afraid of Arlong and his men to wander around freely. Kid's village, on the other hand, was a den of activity, even at the late hour.
They passed men sitting out on a bench, horns of ale in hand, laughing over something Nami hadn't caught. They waved at Kid and Killer as they passed, barely breaking their conversation. Another hut saw a woman outside with her daughter, picking herbs from a garden before rushing back in. They left their door open, as if inviting any in who might want to enjoy the meal Nami could smell wafting through the air. Nami noticed a lot of doors were open.
Further into the village, they passed a fenced in yard lined with swords, axes, and shields. She heard the steady hammering of a smith at work inside the open hut before she was distracted with the tinkling laughter of women coming from another building. She peered around until another open door let her see three older girls inside a home, chatting as they worked at their looms.
She imagined at the height of the day, the village would be bustling with activity. People out trading their wares, children playing down by the water, friends laughing and singing as they performed their daily chores.
Exactly how Tingstad had once been.
Her chest ached with the memories.
"Jarl," a man called out as they neared an open square in front of a large hall that she knew must be Kid's home. It loomed over the smaller houses of the village, with intricately carved timbers crossed at the front of the hall's roof over the entrance. Smoke rose from the roof opening, telling her a fire was going as she smelled the scent of meat roasting within. Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn't eaten more than a few nuts during their midday rest.
She spotted someone wave from the porch of the hall, a hint of a smile hidden in a coarse, neatly trimmed black beard to show his happiness at his jarl's return. "You were supposed to be dropping a wife off, not picking one up for yourself," the man yelled as soon as they were close enough for him to spot her cradled in Kid's furs.
Kid threw his head back and let out a long laugh that rang over the whole square.
"Sorry to disappoint you, Wire," Kid began as his laughter died, though he still wore a wide grin. "She's nothing but a stray cat that wandered into our camp."
She frowned up at him with that comment. At least he wasn't announcing her as a thief, though she didn't know how much she liked being called a stray cat.
Kid met her gaze, and she didn't miss the glint of teasing amusement in his eyes. His smile only continued to widen when she let out a quiet huff and sent him an annoyed glare.
"Well, wouldn't be the first stray you took in," Wire chuckled as he jumped down to take Kid's horse by the reins and steady it to allow Kid to slid out of the saddle, taking Nami with him. "Though, she's probably the prettiest," he mused, a brow cocked as he regarded her closely.
Once she was near the ground, she squirmed in Kid's hold until he finally set her down. He grinned when she swayed, her legs seeming to forget how to walk after so long on the horse, but he caught her with a hand at her back before she could fall. She glared at him again.
Killer dismounted next to them, and Wire went to grab his reins, too. So close to the three men, Nami suddenly felt as small as a stray cat. Wire even towered over his jarl by two heads. She reasoned she should be used to it. All of Arlong's men were large, and would easily dwarf her current companions, but she still felt out of place among them.
"Is Heat in his hut?" Kid asked before Wire could lead the horses to the open stables she spied to the side of the jarl's hall.
"Should be." Wire nodded.
"I'll take the woman," Kid said to Killer. "See what you can find for her supper."
His order was met with a nod, and Killer set off toward the hall while Wire took off with their mounts. Nami was too excited about being fed a proper meal to care when Kid nudged her back, pushing her toward a path leading around his hall, up into the hills behind it.
Kid had to help her when the path grew rough, mixed with weather smoothed stones. Hidden in the trees, she spotted the lone hut on the back edge of the village, smoke billowing out from the low thatch roof. A birch fence surrounded the property with a small garden dug into the front, and another area fenced off with two pigs digging around in the muck of their pen.
While the hut's structure was simple, the wooden archway around the door boasted intricate knot carvings. Stones and bones hung down from a worn fishing net above the door. Once they were close enough, she could make out the blackened etchings of various runes. Most for protection, a few she recognized as calls for peace within that space.
"Heat," Kid called out as he knocked on the doorframe and leaned into the hut. "You in here?"
She heard movement, a thunk of wood, and peered around Kid's large frame to peek inside. The space was bigger than she expected, the ceiling vaulted to allow for someone of Kid's height to stand straight. The floor was hard packed dirt, but wooden platforms covered with fur lined the walls around the fire pit at the center of the main room. Linen and leather curtains toward the back rustled, and a moment later a man popped out to greet them.
"Jarl Kid," he muttered, waving them in.
Nami eyed the new stranger warily. Tall, with defined muscle visible beneath an open black vest. His pale skin was painted with thorny vines running up each arm and winding around his neck. Long blue-grey hair fell in heavy, thick waves down his back, framing a square face. She swallowed thickly at his dark, emotionless eyes that only looked more menacing with black paint swept beneath each.
She wanted to run away, fearing that Kid had brought her there to prepare her for some ritualistic sacrifice, not heal her, but then she took notice of the scars around Heat's lips. Deep gashes slashed down over the flesh of his mouth – long healed scars of thread woven through his skin. Similar scars ran over his gaunt cheekbones.
He was the healer Kid told of.
"Found this woman half-starved and injured last night," Kid began to explain, once more pushing her forward. The roughness made the last of her nervousness vanish as she bit back a growl and stepped out of his reach. "Shoulder's infected, even after Killer let it out. She said her side's bruised, but we didn't look at it. Seems to be slowing her, though. And she's livelier now, but she lost consciousness a few hours ago."
Heat hummed, turning to her with those emotionless eyes that made her want to squirm. His cool gaze assessed her, sweeping along her form, and then he nodded before disappearing behind the curtains again. He returned a moment later with a white cloth that he held out to her.
"Remove your soiled garments and wind this around yourself so I might assess all your injuries," he said, pointing to the curtains to tell her she could change back there in some semblance of privacy.
She did as he asked, slipping into the back room. There she found a table covered with herbs and bones, a pile of linen sheets, fleece, and fur, and a chest filled to the brim with bowls, spoons, and cups. Knives sat on the table, too, along with a smooth stone and wood bowl containing what looked to be a poultice he was mixing when they arrived.
As she changed out of her filthy dress, she heard Kid and Heat speak in low voices while someone moved around the main room. She scowled at hearing Kid remained in the hovel. She had hoped he would leave and give her some privacy with his healer, especially now that she was only dressed in a thin sheet. She took some extra time to carefully fold her clothes, placing her brooches on top of her cloak to see they weren't lost. By the time she was done, she couldn't hear the men speaking, so she dared hope that Kid had left.
Her hopes were in vain.
He stood by the door, arms crossed and imposing as he blocked out the waning daylight spilling into the dim room. At first his expression was blank, but she didn't miss the tug at the corner of his lips as his gaze swept over her.
She really did not want him there.
"You don't have to stay," she bit out, carefully holding the sheet over her chest. His half-smile fell away instantly and he glared. "Thank you for seeing me to your healer. But you have no reason to concern yourself with me any further."
"You're under my protection for the time being. If I want to stay to learn of Heat's findings, then I'll stay," he growled, then turned to Heat, waving at her. "See? The woman's fever has made her stubborn about getting rid of me, despite my damned kindness."
Nami took a deep breath, and then another.
And then she smiled.
That earned Kid's attention, his brow raising high at her apparently serene expression. She turned to Heat who sat on the wooden platform where he had laid out a bed of furs and covered them with another linen sheet while she changed. A pitcher of water sat beside him, along with a cup.
She pointed to the cup. "May I have some water, please?" she asked sweetly.
He nodded, unsuspecting of her intentions. Heat poured out the water, and moved to hand the cup to her. She ignored the cup and aimed for the pitcher.
Both men were too stunned to know what to expect when she turned toward Kid, pitcher in hand. The next instant, the rest of the water was tossed in Kid's face, effectively forcing him to take a step back and raise his arms as if to defend himself. He only succeeded in drenching the sleeves of his tunic, along with his face and hair.
"Get out," she shouted and then finally gave into the urge to throw something hard at him.
With his arms still raised, he easily deflected the wooden pitcher she sent at his head with her demand. She didn't know what to think when she caught excitement shining in his eyes and the wild grin on his face as he lowered his arms.
"Out!" she demanded again.
His grin was impossibly wide, but he took another step back toward the door. Despite the temper she knew he had, he didn't seem angry in the least, much to her surprise.
"I'll be at my hall," he told Heat. "Someone will be by later with a decent meal for her, and some new clothes."
Heat nodded and with one more amused look her way, Kid walked out, finally leaving her with a moment of peace. She sunk to floor, suddenly weary as her temper fled along with the man who seemed to incite it merely with his existence. In a heartbeat, the healer was beside her, lifting her gently by the arm to get her onto the bed he made.
"I'll have that water now," she said tiredly. Heat eyed her, but seemed to determine she was no threat to him and handed her the cup he had filled. "Is your jarl always so obstinate and infuriating?"
She hadn't anticipated Heat's quiet snort of laughter. He didn't say anything, but she took that sound as an affirmative.
She might want to reassess how long she took advantage of Kid's hospitality. Even a fortnight with him might be too long, after all.
A part of him honestly wished he could have left her to die in the woods, but Kid's instincts told him that would not bode well for him. She was brought to him, and as much as he hated to think the gods might be toying with his fate, he knew he couldn't defy them.
But when she woke in tears that morning, sheer terror in her eyes, he didn't even think about Eir or the reindeer or the Norns with their thread. All he saw was a helpless woman, lost and completely at his mercy, and he knew he wouldn't turn his back on her there.
And when she dared tell him to leave her behind after she nearly fell from his horse, eyes open but unseeing, he was that much more determined to see her well. There was something in her brown eyes that told him her mind was elsewhere, but at the same time she had been looking down at him, her gaze fixed on his, scared and saddened all at once. It had left him unsettled enough to risk riding through a muddy river valley as fast as he dared to go, just to get her to his healer.
He could stare down the face of death in battle without an ounce of fear or hesitation, but one broken woman, a thief, no less, had left his stomach in knots with only a single pitiful look.
Except she wasn't broken. Not yet. She still had some fire in her. He knew what she had been thinking that morning as he purposefully needled her temper when he saw it flare. He couldn't help but rile her up. He had been annoyed with her attempted theft, as innocent as it had been, and wanted to teach her a lesson.
And that evening, he finally got to see her snap, when he hadn't even been trying to tick her off. He couldn't even be angry when she tossed the water and pitcher at him. It was too hilarious to see such a tiny woman hiss and spit and stand up to him, after she had just spent the last four hours of the afternoon asleep in his arms without any sign of waking.
Dripping wet, his grin was stuck on his face as he jumped onto the porch of his hall and headed inside. He was greeted with shouts from his men inside, over a dozen warriors who had fought at his side, some since he was a child, others more recently after he became jarl. They all followed him, without question, without hesitance, no matter where he took them.
They were settled in for supper, taking up stools and benches around the long tables or sitting on the raised, fur and leather covered platforms lining the walls. They all had cups full of ale as a couple of servant women moved around the room to see to everyone. The stone fire pit in the center of the long hall lit the room with a warm, inviting glow, as did the candles set in metal sconces along the support beams.
His journey hadn't been long, but it was good to be home, surrounded by his most loyal friends. The smell of pig roasting made it even better still.
"Did it start raining again?" Killer asked when he made his way to the middle of the head table where his larger chair sat empty, waiting for him. He had made it himself when he became jarl. Carved the wood with knots and wolves, painted it with flecks of red and gold, decorated it with antlers and bones, and clad the seat and back with soft leather and fur. It was the closest thing to a throne he imagined he would ever get, but it was his.
Kid chuckled at the question as he took off his cloak to shake away the drops of water that clung to the fur. He tossed it on the back of his chair and threw himself into the seat.
A woman came around with a pitcher of ale before he had to ask. He took the pitcher from her the moment his cup brimmed with golden ale. That night he didn't want his cup empty, so he'd serve himself.
"Seems that stray cat we picked up isn't so tame," he quipped loud enough for all the men to hear. They all laughed, even Killer snorted despite his rebuking glare.
As the women began to bring out platters of food with his arrival, Kid sat straight and banged his hand on the table. He wanted their attention before they got lost with conversation and their meal.
"You guys heard about our guest, right?" he asked, and waited for the chorus of yeses that followed. News among his men always traveled fast, and he knew Wire and Killer likely began to spread the gossip while he was with the woman. "None of you lays a hand on her if she doesn't wish it. And if you see anyone around causing her trouble, I expect you to take care of it. No harm comes to her as long as she's here."
"How long do you think she'll stay?" one of them asked.
Kid frowned in thought. "However long it takes her to be well again. She can stay as long as she wishes, but I have a feeling she'll try to leave as soon as she's able. If it's true that she's on the run from a jarl, then she won't risk staying here too long." He drummed his fingers on the table. "And if any strangers come around asking about a woman – she doesn't exist. You play dumb. You say nothing. And you come find me. Understood?"
He sat back with their chorus of agreement, and waved for them to dig into their meal.
He grabbed a thrall woman as she walked by, yanking her toward him by the arm. He ignored her startled look. "See to the woman in Heat's home. Clothes, bath, whatever she needs, you take care of it."
"I told them to prepare a plate for her and deliver it," Killer said beside him. He nodded his thanks and released the woman, waving her off to see she followed his orders.
"So what exactly is the story with this woman?" Wire asked as he came around to take a seat with them. "And why are you all wet?"
"She threw a pitcher of water at me when I refused to leave," he answered with a smirk as he took a few slices of pork the women had set on the table. Killer sighed, but didn't lecture him. He didn't think he did anything wrong. He wanted to see that she was settled in with Heat and learn about the severity of her condition. "Apparently she didn't want my company," he snorted.
"And the reason you took her in?" Wire prompted.
Kid shrugged. "Ignoring a sick woman wouldn't have brought me good fortune, especially when she was brought to us by the gods." His friend's brow rose at the answer. He looked to Killer as though he doubted what Kid said, but Killer lifted a shoulder to say he did not lie. "I don't know why she came to us, but she did." He pursed his lips in thought, and then shrugged again. "Anyway, I think I like her, so the reasons don't matter. She stays."
Killer had taken a bite of his supper, and Wire a sip of his ale. They both froze and stared at him in open shock.
"What?" he grunted. They continued to stare and he rolled his eyes. It wasn't so strange for him to like someone. He liked plenty of people. They should know that, they were two of them. "She's feisty," he said, as though that were the only reason he needed. It certainly was all he had to explain it, he couldn't really put any other reason to it. She just stood out to him. Just like the few people he called friend.
"You've hardly spoken to her outside of all the questions about where she's from and why she's on the run," said Killer.
"And apparently annoying her enough that she throws things at you," said Wire.
"You're lucky it was only the water," Killer snorted.
"The pitcher, too," Kid pointed out.
"She might have wished it were an axe," chuckled Wire.
Kid could only grin. "See? She's amusing, even if she throws things at me. Means she's not afraid to stand up for herself. She'll need that if she's going to be out on her own. As long as she doesn't try to steal from me again, she'll be fine here."
"Again?" Wire asked in surprise.
"She stole some dried meat from my bag before I found her," Kid explained with a shrug.
"So you brought home a stray thieving cat?"
"She paid a fine for it when she woke up," he said with a dismissive wave. He was mostly over the theft business now.
"After you tried to weasel her out of all her silver," Killer said.
"I was teasing," Kid huffed. "Figured I show her how it feels to have your belongings taken."
"You would have happily taken all of it, teasing or not," Killer argued.
"If she was stupid enough to give it to me without a fight," he agreed.
"So what do you plan to do with her while she's here?" Wire interjected.
Kid thought for a moment. "We'll see what she can do. There's always chores a woman can do around here. I'll find a use for her." He caught Wire's frown. "What?"
"As I said earlier, she's the prettiest stray you've taken in," he pointed out while gesturing to the men in the room. A number of them were strays, warriors without a tribe or home to fight for. "This is the first woman you've brought here."
"I've brought women here," he grunted, pointing to a few of the thralls collected from past raids.
"Not free women," Wire said lowly.
His meaning dawned on Kid, and he rolled his eyes at the hint. "I don't plan to use her like that, Wire. I said she was off limits, didn't I?"
"Figured you were planning to hoard her for yourself."
Kid laughed. "Pretty sure that even if I wanted to, she wouldn't allow it." He held up a drying sleeve and gestured to himself. "She obviously doesn't like me any more than she has to, and I'm not dumb enough to find out just how much that might be. She might actually take an axe to my head."
With a round of laughter, they began to joke about ways to keep especially deadly objects away from their guest whenever Kid came around. That led to stories among all the men about the livelier women they had met in their lives, and how they managed to get away unscathed. He learned that one of his men even bore a scar from a woman who took exception to his advances and tried to cut off a finger with her dagger. Another swore he was cursed by a woman after sleeping with her… and then her sister.
Kid couldn't find it in him to sympathize with the last one. He had brought that onto himself.
Conversation then moved to the woman they left with an uncle. He gathered that the man intended to send word to her brothers and a few cousins, and make their way to her ex-husband's farm to deliver him the ill fate he called upon himself by striking his wife and daring to dishonor her by likening her to a whore. Kid held no attachment to the farmer, in fact he had a great deal of dislike for the man after seeing his wife's bruised and swollen face. He felt the family was justified enough, so he made sure his men knew to keep their heads down should the kinsmen come later in the summer.
It was a family matter, after all. None of their business how it all played out. As long as they didn't bring their battles into the village, he felt no desire to intercede.
Roughly an hour into the night, Heat finally made his way to the hall to take a seat at the main table.
"How's the woman?" Kid grunted, pouring out a cup of ale for his friend.
Heat frowned and glanced around the room at the other men, much to Kid's confusion. After a moment, he took his cup and leaned in close to talk.
"You said it was Eir who brought her to you?" he asked lowly.
"She was a crone, but we could feel her magic. We guessed it was Eir," Kid explained. Killer and Wire pulled in close, as well, curious of Heat's wary expression. "Why?"
"Did anything else stand out that night?"
Kid and Killer shared a look, and then nodded. "It was too still. Killer even slept through the woman's attempt at thievery."
"And the woman? Did anything strike you as strange?"
Kid frowned in thought. "Everything," he answered honestly.
Heat nodded, but still appeared worried about something.
"What's wrong with her?" Kid asked, letting an impatient growl slip into his voice. "Were we wrong to bring her here?"
"No, you were definitely not wrong in bringing her to me," Heat said with a sigh. He shook his head, as though clearing a number of thoughts, and then took a sip of his ale. "I let out more of the infection in her arm, sewed the new cut closed, and bandaged it with a poultice. The girl you sent is helping her bathe, and then I've mixed an herbal tincture to let her sleep peacefully."
Kid frowned at the last part. She certainly needed some peaceful sleep.
"She was very grateful for the meal, by the way," Heat added, and Kid felt himself relax a bit.
"You need to eat, too," Kid decided and began to raise his arm to call over one of the servants. He stopped when Heat grabbed his arm and tugged it back down. "What? There's something you're not telling me."
"We should talk outside," he said. "I don't think this should be discussed in front of everyone."
That unsettling knot was back. Kid didn't like to keep his men in the dark about anything if he could help it. The three with him now were his closest circle, though, and if one of them felt what he had to say shouldn't be shared with the others, he was inclined to listen.
"Killer, see that we're not followed," he muttered before standing to casually make his way through the boisterous men still feasting in his hall. Heat followed close behind, sparing the barest of nods to any who tried to talk with him on the way out. Kid led them off to the side of his hall, toward the wooded hills at the back. He stopped when he felt they were far enough away from prying ears, and turned to his friend with a scowl. "What is it?"
"I feel strange magic in her," Heat said bluntly.
Kid's brows furrowed. Hearing that a woman held magic wasn't odd. Magic was their realm, their domain, only a few men practiced seidr, and they weren't often respected for it. Heat merely knew the runes for healing and protection, a few old remedies, and even the odd blessing for harvest, but nothing like the magic the women were taught to practice in their weaving.
"What kind of magic?" Kid asked, trying to understand why the subject would leave his friend so uneasy.
"I do not know," Heat admitted. "But it's strong. It's the cause of her infection and fever."
"Why would her own magic be harming her?"
Heat shook his head. "I can't quite say, but I gather it has to do with the mark on her shoulder. It holds magic different from hers. Binding magic."
"The jarl she's running from tattooed that to her," Kid growled. "What is it binding?"
"Her."
Kid stared at the healer, even more confused with that simple answer.
With a sigh, Heat glanced off into the woods, in the direction of his hut and the woman recovering there.
"I cannot be certain at this point, it's only a theory, one I doubt she would be willing to confirm. She is from Svealand, correct?" Kid nodded. "Years ago, I heard a tale from the Svear about an extinct clan. It was a matriarchal clan led by a high priestess whose lineage was blessed with the gift of foresight."
"A prophetess?" Kid asked, trying to hide his surprise at where he guessed this story was going. A matriarchal clan was rare, especially one with such magic.
Heat nodded. "The story claims that the line of seers was highly sought after for their power, so a curse was placed on them to see that any unworthy who dared claim a wife or daughter in the lineage would be driven mad with magic, and then die dishonorably, sent to Hel, never to step foot in the great hall."
"Who placed the curse on them?"
"The highest practitioner of seidr, of course. Freyja."
"Her bracelet… And the amber…" Kid mused, the pieces falling into place.
"The gold bracelet is meant to call the valkyries to her, to aid her in times of strife, and provide her with strength and protection when she needs it most. The leather and amber bracelet is meant to channel her magic and guide her, as far as I can tell. There were no runes that I could see carved into it, but I dared not make her remove it to see. Those must stay on her at all times."
Kid was still confused, even if some things in the story made sense. "You believe her to be part of this clan? A prophetess?"
Heat finally looked at him. "I admit, I'm at a loss on what to believe. From what the Svear say, the last remnants of the clan died nearly twenty years ago. One thing does stand out; even more than the symbols of Freyja she bears." He paused, and Kid cocked his head to the side, silently encouraging his friend to explain. "Her name…" he began uneasily. "Nami. It is an eastern name, not of these lands. But it's meaning is significant."
"What does it mean?"
"Wave."
Kid's eyes widened in surprise. To name a daughter for the sea….
"The clan was said to descend from the billows… From Rán's daughters. Every daughter was named for the waves, just as her nine daughters were."
It fit, but at the same time none of it made sense. For this clan to be descended from a giantess, to bear strong seidr such that belonged to the Vanir and Norns, and then cursed by a Vanir goddess. It was a tangled web, and that meant there was deception in the tale. Unsurprising where magic was concerned, but what was true and what was false, he couldn't even begin to guess.
But it certainly answered one question he had that the woman hadn't been happy to answer. He knew she had been lying when he asked the reason her jarl held her hostage. She knew very well why he claimed her as he did.
"She said her jarl is a son of Aegir," Kid said, settling a hard gaze on Heat as his mouth fell open in shock. "The father of those billows. That mark is Arlong's sigil, claiming her as his captive and ward."
Heat turned thoughtful, scowling at the information. "That is strange," he mused. "That mark is what her magic is fighting to destroy, even if it takes her with it. If it is true that she is from a clan born from the sea, and her jarl is the same, then by reason, he should be worthy to claim her in whatever fashion he wishes. The mark should not harm her."
"But it is," Kid growled. "Can you remove it?"
"It's in the process of being removed by more natural means," Heat said. "I fear cutting it from her. I might invoke a more unwanted curse on her, or on myself. The thread binding her magic is broken and unraveling now, and I suspect Rán, herself, had some hand in that. She said the cut came sometime after her faering capsized. She claimed that she was dragged to the end of her limits beneath the water, that it was Rán's net that had her. She remembers being cast into a rock, and that was how she got cut."
"None of this makes sense," Kid growled. "Why would Rán take issue with Aegir's men marking her?"
Heat shrugged, at a loss on how to answer that. "Perhaps because it was binding her gifts and stifling her freedom. I cannot say. But with the mark in tatters, I feel she will begin to find her magic awakening as it should have years ago."
Kid scowled. He had a feeling it had already begun.
"A seer, you said?" The healer nodded grimly. "She woke this morning in tears, terrified from what I guessed was a fever dream," he explained. "And then this afternoon, she nearly fell from my horse. I thought she had fallen asleep, but her eyes were open, and her mind gone."
"Did she tell you what she saw?"
"Of course not," Kid snorted. "She only told me of Arlong's connection to Aegir because she was delirious with fever." His brows furrowed as he remembered that conversation. "It was after she made a remark about me being a berserker. It seemed important to her. I thought her jarl might be one, too. She had taken issue with the means I came about my Jarldom because her jarl had forcefully usurped the previous one. I thought it was another reason for her to mistrust me."
Kid's stomach was in knots as he began to pace, trying to put all the pieces together in a way that made sense. He was missing something, though. There had to be more to the tale.
Heat watched him for a moment before speaking again.
"I fear she's had a vision of you," he said bluntly, and Kid froze. "She told you to leave her. She might fear that she'll bring you misfortune."
Kid scoffed at that. "She was just being a stubborn and delirious fool." He began to pace again. "And if she did see something in that nightmare, then there's no changing that fate. It is what it is. Even if I had left her, nothing would change."
"You're not afraid that she might be an ill omen?"
Kid stopped and stared off into the trees, toward Heat's hut, thinking. His stomach tightened with anxiety he hadn't felt in years, and then he let out a long breath and it was gone.
"No," he decided. "The gods brought her to us for a reason. Whatever it is, I won't fear the fate they've woven for me."
He nodded to himself, set in his decision.
"Nami stays," he said firmly. "And we won't allow anyone to take her."
A/N: Alright, lessons on bits of lore I used here. I'll start with that poem thing (I actually headcanon Kid as being a very good lyricist. Don't know if my poem conveyed that, but whatever).
The poem is inspired by the Berserkers from Old Norse lore. They were warriors and considered to be tied to the god, Odin. They were said to go into battle without armor, but were still impervious to blades and fire. The name of the warriors comes from the pelts they wore (some bear, others wolf - ulfhednar, is the term for those associated with wolves, but they are generally lumped into the same broad term of 'berserker' nowadays).
In the poem I make mention of two significant aspects of Odin - 'Ravenous' and 'Greedy' refer to his two wolves, 'Geri' and 'Freki', and 'Thought' and 'Memory' refer to his two ravens, 'Huginn' and 'Muginn'. Also, the 'great hall gilded' is a reference to Valhalla/ Valhol, of course. And I've seen some sites in my research associate Odin with 'ecstasy' among the many other things he's associated with (death, healing, battle, sorcery, frenzy, knowledge, royalty, poetry, the runes, and the gallows), I imagine 'ecstasy' is meant to be synonymous with 'frenzy', which is the state of mind bersekers are associated with, but I like the word, so I used it in the poem.
Anyway, the rest of the imagery that ties with the berserkers comes from the lore about what they did in battle - they bit their shields and let out war cries, got frothing mad, and all that. Also, to explain the bit about the field growing with spears - that's in reference to the practice of Norse warriors throwing a spear behind their enemies before battle, signaling that those people are going to be sacrificed to Odin.
Next, I'll kind of explain Aegir. He's a giant, as Kid said, associated with the sea. Now, most of the Aesir and Vanir gods did not get along with the giants, but Aegir was an exception. He threw all kinds of parties for them, and they all basically crashed his hall regularly because he had the best ale. While Aegir seems conveyed in a pretty good light in the lore I've found, Arlong obviously isn't, but connecting Arlong to Aegir was too perfect a fit overall to resist.
And I mentioned Ran in a previous chapter, but I'll elaborate here. She's a giantess/goddess and Aegir's wife. As stated in the fic, they had nine daughters, each named after the various types of waves. Ran, unlike her husband, is not a very nice person. Her name is thought to translate to 'Robber', and she's known to drag men into the sea with her net, and she's considered to have command of storms. There's some obvious paralleling between Nami and Ran/the nine daughters, but I'm going to be leaving everyone confused about her true nature in this fic for a reason, because there's paralleling between her and Freyja, too. I won't elaborate on that yet, though I've laid a good amount of it out already in the fic. My intent is to keep you guys guessing until the very end when the true story of Nami's heritage is told.
Also, in Old Norse society (according to the majority of what I've read), women were considered to be close to magic and the gods. Their weaving was connected to 'spellwork' because of the nature of seidr, and especially the Norns. It was one of the various reasons you don't cross a Norse woman, that, and her male kin might beat your ass, unless she's nice, then she just fines you... and maybe tries to curse you. But really, you don't disrespect a woman, even if they don't have the 'power' that men have in a patriarchal society, they're still valuable... and scary.
As I've said, I have had a lot of fun researching this, even if it's a lot of information to take in.
Oh, and I usually headcanon Wire as the 'healer' of the group, but for this fic, Heat's aesthetic fit better for the role, so I switched it. Can't wait to find out who is the Kid Pirates' doctor.
Also, I'm pretty sure Kid's a lot like Luffy when it comes to picking friends. It's all instinct. Something just tells him he likes that person, and once he's decided he likes that person, they're his person and that's that. Really all the captains probably pick their friends like that (on some level). Basically "I have no idea who you are, and you're kind of weird, but I like you, you're mine now."
And thanks guys for the reviews. I'm glad to see so many enjoying this fic. At least I know I'm enjoying it.