Before we get into this chapter - yes, KidNami is unequivocally my 'Beauty and the Beast' ship, and one part of this chapter should make that painfully obvious.
Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda.
Remembrance
For three days, Nami slept in Heat's hut. At least she slept to the best of her abilities. Nightmares continued to plague her, and every time she woke, the healer was beside her with water and a curious frown. He never asked her about the nightmares, but she could tell he wanted to as he crouched there on the dirt floor, waiting for her to regain her senses.
She wanted to tell him. He might be able to decipher their meaning, or, what she really hoped, reassure her that they were nothing more than feverish delusions within her mind. His obvious interest, silent as it was, told her the chances of it being the latter were low. So, she kept them to herself.
She already had an idea what they meant.
By the third night, Heat had made a sleep thorn by carving the ancient needle shaped runes into a piece of oak. He said her body needed rest that her magic would not allow, and said the spell would let her sleep, uninterrupted, until he burned the rune in the fire. She was uncertain of using the spellwork, no matter how much she desired a good night's rest. If it was carved wrong, or with ill intentions, she might never wake up. And if it kept her asleep, but did not cure her dreams, she might be stuck in that nightmare, unable to wake at all.
He had read her doubts and swore no harm would come to her, that he would stand guard in her sleep to watch for any signs of her dreams bringing her harm. In the end, she let herself trust him. He had done nothing to hurt her, and her shoulder had improved with the treatment he provided. It was only sleep that alluded her and made her fever persist. She needed to get well, or she might never be able to leave, and that was not in anyone's best interests.
Heat placed the oak beneath her pillow, and then burned a small bundle of dried herbs over her bed, fanning the smoke over the sheets and furs. The smell was soothing on its own, sweet and fragrant, and she felt her body begin to relax before she even slipped beneath her wool blankets.
While she got comfortable, the healer arranged himself against the wall at her side, a flute of bone in hand. She fell asleep to the sounds of a slow, whistling tune dancing in the air, carrying her mind far from any battlefields they had been plagued with before.
She surely cried in her sleep when she began to dream of the farmhouse as it had once been. Before Arlong. Before her life was torn to shreds. Before she knew exactly what her mother had been hiding her from.
It was a warm, sunny day. Early summer, if she remembered right. She could hear laughter, children running through the thin trees surrounding the small property. A breeze picked up, and Nami could smell the fowl her mother had been roasting for supper. They had finished their chores early, and were chasing each other around the beach and forest. Not a care in the world.
"Nami! Nojiko!," she heard ring through the air. She followed, beckoned just as the young girls were. She couldn't have been older than nine that year. The summer before he came.
Her throat tightened when she saw her in the door. The strip of dark magenta hair, tied in a tail atop her shaved head, fluttered in the gentle wind. The light blue of her dress was faded and frayed at the ends. All the clothes she made went to the girls, she rarely spared the materials for herself. Her brooches were old and weathered, with a thin string of glass beads in white and green hanging between them. The string had broken a number of times over the years, beads lost and never replace. Silver hung from each brooch, too. A few pieces were etched with boars, while others had black painted ravens. Reminders of old oaths she never gave up. Small scissors and a sewing kit she never went without were hidden within a pouch. Her brown leather belt was frayed and splitting, but still held the knife with its faded wooden grip she never took off her.
And there was a smudge of dirt on her left cheek.
She was as beautiful as ever.
"Wash up, girls. Supper's about ready," Bellemere said, waving the girls into the small house.
Nami watched the girls go to the bowl of water and soap set on the floor by the fire. The home was just as she remembered it. Then again, she and Nojiko hadn't changed much of anything since Bellemere died.
They all shared a bed, nothing more than a cushion of straw and fur with wool blankets to fight off the cold. The raised wooden platform they slept on was to one side of the room, and Nami remembered one winter when they found a hole in the siding that let the frigid air in for nearly two weeks. They had to wait until a warm enough day to patch it. In the meantime, they packed extra blankets and clothes in the space to block out the cold. It barely held through a rough winter storm, but as long they were snuggled together in that shared bed, beneath piles of fur and wool blankets, they were plenty warm.
A small table sat in the middle of the room, right beside the fire. Most days it was covered in cloth as Bellemere busied herself with mending garments and making new pieces for the girls. They only ever cleared enough space off to eat their meals. They didn't have a loom, but Genzo allowed them to use the one he had at the hall. He offered to make one for them, but the space wasn't big enough to house it, so they were satisfied with his. It gave them an excuse to visit his longhouse every day.
That day, or in her dream, the only thing that was different from most days was the open chest beside the table. It was the chest Bellemere kept everything she managed to salvage after finding the girls and leaving the village Nami had been born in.
"What's all this, Bellemere?" Nojiko asked, peeking into the chest that their mother rarely ever opened.
"Some old things from Västerås," she explained.
"Where's that?" Nami had asked, leaning into the chest to dig through the things inside.
"It's where you were born," Bellemere had explained. "A place to the north and east, not far from Agnafit."
Nami hadn't known exactly where that was at that age. It hadn't been important. It still wasn't. She could never go back. There was nothing left to go back to.
"Oh! This is pretty," her younger self exclaimed, tugging a soft fur from the bottom of the chest.
"Ah! Put that back," Bellemere yelled, whisking over to smack her hand with a wooden spoon. Nami shrieked and dropped the fur, pulling back her hands to nurse the red spot blooming on her skin.
"I just wanted to see it. We never have any furs like that." The younger Nami sulked, her lower lip puffed out.
Bellemere frowned down at her, silently weighing what to do. In the end she sighed and crouched down beside the chest, beckoning the girls closer.
"I was going to wait until you were older, Nami," she began to explained. The girls eagerly watched her remove the armor and sword set on top of the fur, placing it aside, and then carefully took the fur out of the chest. "This is everything I was able to gather from your home. They were your mother's."
Nami's head had cocked to the side as she leaned in close. Bellemere unfolded the fur to reveal a set of gold brooches, etched with large cats, strings of amber and gold that Nami's fingers itched to touch, and a leather bracelet woven with more amber beads.
Nami slumped down onto the dirt floor, pressed to Bellemere's side as she studied the pieces. She reached out to gently trace over the brooches, thoughtful and curious about where she came from for the first time in her life.
"Was my mother rich?" she had asked, glancing up at the only woman she had ever seen as a mother, not the faceless ghost the trinkets had once belonged to.
Bellemere laughed quietly. "Something like that. She was a very important person once." She ran her hand through Nami's hair. "I was never lucky enough to know her myself, but everyone who spoke of her said she shone brighter than the most precious jewels. I believe you got that trait from her."
"I did?"
Bellemere nodded. "Even as a baby, your smile was something to treasure."
Nami snickered at the compliment. Even more so when Nojiko leaned over their mother, smiling wide as she voiced her agreement.
"So if these were my mother's, why are you hiding them in this chest? They must be worth a lot. We could have gotten a bigger farm with it." Nami gasped as a thought came to her. "You could have traded some of it for that sea chart Genzo brought back from Francia."
Bellemere smacked her on the back of the head.
"These are not trinkets to trade away, Nami. They're all you have left of your mother, and I wanted to see you had them when you got older. Anyway, don't you like our house? I think it's nice."
"It's a dump," Nami said flatly, earning another hit to the head.
Watching the scene, Nami wanted to giggle at the memory. She brought Bellemere so much strife, but her mother never once regretted it.
"Nami," Bellemere sighed, "these things are important. They're gifts from the gods, only to be worn by the daughters it was made for. We cannot give them away. I was going to wait until you were older to share this tale, but…" She trailed off with a sigh, and drew Nami close.
Bellemere spent the rest of the night telling a story too unbelievable, too tangled in deceit for Nami to take seriously. She tried to. A part of her certainly had wondered as she sat with the soft fur pelt of a long sacrificed lynx, tracing her fingers over the black spots scattered over the tawny shades.
"Someday you will understand," Bellemere said at a hush, patting both girls on the head. That much was true. She was finally beginning to understand the deceit, and see the truth for what it was. Though she wished she could deny it for a while longer. "People will search for you. They'll try to take you for themselves. But no matter what, you must always be strong, and never lose hope. The Norns brought you both to me for a reason. I believe, no matter the hardships that may come, your future will be a happy one."
Her words hadn't felt foreboding then, but in that reminiscent dream, after facing such dark depths in life with no ray of hope to follow, the memory clawed at her heart. If she was meant to have a happy life, then it was surely a long way off.
Bellemere's sudden laughter broke into her thoughts, and Nami watched as her mother slipped out two gold bangles that had been hidden inside the folded leather armor. Her mother released the girls and turned on the floor to face them, holding a bracelet in each hand.
"And these are mine. The nicest things I've ever owned." She tapped one to Nojiko's forehead, the other to Nami's. Both girls closed their eyes with quiet laughs. "If in the future, I'm not here anymore, I want you both to have one of these. They'll protect you when I can't."
"What do they mean?" asked Nojiko this time. She had spied the runes and was tilting her head in a vain attempt to decipher their meaning.
"Protection and strength, are what they call to whoever possess these. The valkyries will guide your sword, and hide you from death. Only the best shieldmaidens are allowed to wear these, but I trust you both will be worthy of them."
Without thinking of it, Nami's hand went to rest on her wrist. Even in a dream she could feel the comforting weight of her mother's bracelet. She hoped what Bellemere said was true. Certainly for Nojiko, at the very least. Nami was safe enough, but Nojiko was still trapped within the giant's lair.
"I'll protect Nami," she heard Nojiko say, a wide smile lighting up her face. "No matter what. She'll always be safe."
"You always have," Bellemere said, ruffling the little girl's light blue hair until it began to fall loose from the red woven band she wore in it.
"You won't be protecting her from me," a man called from the door, breaking into the moment. They all jumped and turned to the guest. Nami's throat tightened at the sight of Jarl Genzo standing tall in the door. His face was unmarked beneath his trim beard, and his eyes shone with more life than she had seen in years. Even if they were unmistakably angry.
"What did you take this time?" Bellemere snapped at Nami.
"Nothing," the little girl cried out. A lie, of course.
"A gold necklace is certainly not nothing," Genzo growled, and the younger Nami stifled a shriek. "Bellemere, is this the thanks I receive for allowing you to manage my farm?"
Her mother, unflinching in the face of their jarl's bad mood, quickly stood and sauntered toward him. The girls snickered at the exaggerated sway of her hips that easily drew the man's attention down. Bellemere waved them toward a small hatch they had built into the back wall, an escape route in a dangerous situation. They never thought they would need it for anything other than running from Genzo.
"Now Jarl, you know I'm very thankful for everything you've done," Bellemere cooed, tracing a finger over Genzo's jaw as she leaned into him. "I'd be more than happy to let you take their fine… from my body," she said at a whisper, carefully enunciating each word with her lips to his ear.
While their mother distracted him with her seduction, the girls slipped out, still stifling their laughter at the jarl's vibrant blush. He never stood a chance against Bellemere when she flirted.
Nami sank into the blissful reverie of days long past, of a simpler time when the only thing she feared was being caught by Genzo and made to scrub the floors. She sat on their old bed, watching the memories flash before her. The smiles and laughter. The playful shrieks. The quiet winter nights spent snuggled in furs by the fire, listening to Bellemere's stories of adventure and the gods.
She wished she could go back.
Her eyes stung. She could never go back. But maybe she could stay there. Nothing hurt. Nothing scared her. There were no giants or wolves. No blood staining her memories and dreams. It was peaceful and beautiful. She never wanted to leave.
She startled at a dark growl echoing in the home as her family faded away. The fire was gone, nothing but a hollow pit hidden among overgrown weeds that had broken into the living space. The roof was torn and falling at one side. The walls bland and broken. The farm was as she last saw it. Hollow. Dead.
The one thing that didn't belong in that home was the large wolf that sat on the floor in front of her. She stared wide-eyed, shrinking back into the wall. He wasn't the same as he was in the nightmares. There was no blood matting his fur, his body was whole and strong, so large he seemed to fill the room. And those rusty eyes were bright with life, and narrowed dangerously on her.
His lip curled with a snarl, another low growl rumbled from his throat. Nami tried not to whimper, but fear welled in her chest and escaped with a quiver of her lip. She didn't want to leave. She didn't want to go back to that world.
He growled again and took a step toward her, bulky muscle shifted with the prowling hunch of his shoulders. She drew her cloak around her, wishing it were a shield.
He took another step, stalked closer, and her hand grappled around the bed for any sort of weapon. Her fingers curled around the smooth hilt of ivory she knew well, traced over the faint knots her mother had carved into it long ago. She drew it tight to her palm when the wolf came closer still.
"Wake up," said a voice lacing the wolf's frothing snarl.
She didn't want to wake up. She wanted to stay there. She wanted to see her mother again. Her sister. Her jarl. Just as they were. Not as they are.
"Wake up!" he bellowed, lunging toward her with sharp teeth bared.
Instinct drove her to lash out, striking at the wolf with her dagger. The second her blade slashed through his fur, the world shattered around her.
She was no longer in the farmhouse. She sat in a bed of furs, gasping for air as the healer's hut filled her senses.
Her arm was still raised, her wrist caught in a strong grip. She blinked, letting the last of her dream wash away as she focused on the large figure crouched on the floor beside the wooden platform.
Kid was on his haunches, left hand back, bracing himself in the dirt while his right held tight to her wrist. His arm blocked his face, only his fiery gaze visible as he quietly growled.
"What did I tell you about keeping weapons away from her, Heat?" he snarled at the healer, though his eyes still held hers.
Just over his imposing form, she spied Heat knelt at the fire, pushing at the wood intently. She caught a brief flash of the oak sleep thorn before it was consumed by the flames.
"What are you talking about? Her weapons are…" Heat trailed off to glance around. Her cloak sat folded near the back room, just where the thrall had left it after they washed it her first day there. Her purse and axe sat there, too. All of her belongings were on the other side of the room. Her gaze followed his to the dagger in her hand. The dagger she knew had been nowhere near her as she slept.
She dropped it with a gasp, her surprised gaze meeting Kid's more thoughtful one as the weapon clattered off the platform and into the dirt. His grip relaxed and with one last wary look, he released her entirely.
"I can't believe you gave her a sleep thorn," Kid began to rant, his attention back on the healer. "What if she didn't wake?"
Heat glowered at him. "I told you to wait for the thorn to burn completely. She would have woken on her own once it was destroyed."
Kid hissed in annoyance, but refrained from arguing the subject further. Instead he turned his attention to the sleeve of his tunic. Nami was still trying to put together what had happened as she watched him finger the long slash in the fabric. That surprised her. He must have deflected the blow while protecting his face.
"How'd she even get her dagger?" he muttered to himself while pushing the sleeve away.
She gasped when she saw the blood running over his forearm. She hadn't just cut the fabric. She had cut him.
"You're bleeding," she said, grabbing his arm to pull it closer and inspect the wound.
"Just a scratch," he grunted, shrugging indifferently.
It was far from a scratch. The cut ran long and deep, from his elbow down to the inside of the forearm. Blood welled and spilled from the gash, and the flesh easily opened wider with just a bit of movement. She couldn't believe she had done that to him.
"Don't you dare come near me with that needle, you bastard," Kid shouted suddenly, breaking her from her examination. She looked up from his arm to see Heat standing above them, he - and the thread in his hand - the recipient of a very menacing glare.
Nami glowered at him. "This is deep, Kid. He needs to close it."
"It's fine," he growled at her, tugging his arm from her grasp to press his hand over the cut. "Just wrap it."
She and Heat both sent him withering stares, though Nami had to admit, the obvious disdain in the expression Kid wore when he looked at the needle and thread was quite amusing. But the cut needed to be cleaned and bandaged properly, no matter what he thought.
"I'll take care of it," Nami decided with a sigh, earning Kid's angry snarl even as he drew his arm to his chest in an attempt to protect it. She rolled her eyes. "I won't sew it. But I'm the one who cut you, at least let me clean and wrap it for you." He eyed her warily. "It's the least I can do," she said softly, doing her best to sound kind. She even graced him with a small smile.
After a tense moment of thought, Kid relaxed with a nod.
Nami gestured for Kid to sit at her left and moved to give him space, adjusting the loose linen tunic Heat had lent her to sleep in so she kept some decency in front of the jarl. It fell off one shoulder, giving the healer better access to her cut for treatment, so she carefully tugged it to sit higher.
Her own underdress had been given to the village women to use as scrap cloth. It was too damaged to be mended and cleaned, and she figured it would be of more use in patching other garments. Her apron dress was cleaned with her cloak, but Nami still needed to mend a small tear she had noticed in the seam. She wasn't going to bother the other women with that chore, though.
Once they were settled, Nami knelt at Kid's side and Heat brought over a basin of heated water and a clean linen wrap.
"Do you have more of the poultice you used for my wound?" she asked while soaking a piece of cloth in the water.
Heat nodded and vanished into the back room to retrieve the herbal paste.
"That stuff burns," Kid grunted in complaint.
Nami ignored him and pressed the cloth to his cut. He hissed and tried to pull away, but Nami gripped him by the elbow to keep him there. When he tried to pull away again, she yanked him back and glared.
"Stop acting like a child," she reprimanded. He growled, but forced himself to stay still with the next sweep of her cloth. The growl returned when Heat came to her other side with a bowl of green paste and square cut cloths. "For someone who runs into battle without a care, you really are a baby with this."
"It doesn't hurt when I get injured," he huffed.
"That makes absolutely no sense," she said, laughing quietly.
"Well it doesn't. Only hurts when you mess with it," he said, hissing again when she began to spread the poultice over the gash. He tried to pull back again. "Like now. Stop that. I don't need that crap," he growled.
"Yes you do," she snapped. "Or do you want to be stuck in bed with a fever like I've been?"
Kid huffed in defeat and stilled, allowing her to work in silence once more.
By the time she was winding the cloth around his arm, Kid had relaxed completely. She could feel his gaze on her, but ignored it as she focused on her task.
"You look better," he mused, and then she felt his free hand press to her forehead. She pulled back to glare, and was met with his own annoyed look. "You're not as warm."
"Peaceful sleep helps a fever," she said. "How long did I sleep, anyway?" she asked Heat, glancing over her shoulder at him.
"A whole night and half a day," Heat answered. "Were your dreams better?"
Her eyes widened briefly before she turned back to the last of Kid's wrapping. She only spared him a nod.
She didn't want to talk about her dreams.
"What did you see?" Kid asked, ignoring her discomfort just as he had since she met him.
She glowered at the prying question, but he merely stared back with an expectant look. She especially didn't like how he worded the question. He could have asked what she had dreamed, but he asked her what she had seen, and the meaning behind that word was not the same as a dream.
Sighing, she tied off his bandage. "Nothing," she lied and pushed herself up. "I should probably dress and go outside for some fresh air. I think I've been stuck in here long enough."
She ignored their identical frowns as she moved toward her clothes. She fingered the torn seam of her apron dress. She would fix that later. For now, she just needed some time alone.
She disappeared behind the curtain to escape their gazes, and quickly changed out of the borrowed tunic. One of the women had lent her a new underdress to replace the torn one. It was a little big, but with her belt in place, she could hardly tell save for the wider oval of the neckline that slipped at her shoulder. She would have to see about making a new dress for herself. Or maybe barter for one in the village.
Back out in the main room, she was once more met by Kid's heavy gaze. Heat had disappeared, much to her annoyance. She would rather he was still there to keep his jarl leashed, though she doubted he would have any luck in that task, either.
"What did you see?" he asked again, an impatient growl in his tone.
"Nothing," she answered firmly, tossing her cloak around her shoulders and pinning it in place.
"You're lying," he accused. "You saw something to make you lash out with that knife. A knife that wasn't even in your reach a minute before." He stood as she moved toward the door, still intent on ignoring his curiosity. He followed her outside, unrelenting in his quest for a straight answer. She had hoped to find the healer out tending to his pigs or herbs, maybe chopping wood. Anything, as long as he was there to make Kid leave her alone, but unfortunately she was still at the jarl's mercy. "Heat told me about your magic. That the tattoo's binding you," he continued to say as he followed her down a worn path that led further into the woods, away from the village.
She picked up her pace in the hope he would get the hint and back off. It was too beautiful a day to deal with an interrogation.
"Woman," he growled, only further strengthening her resolve to keep her mouth shut. She could hear him stomp after her. "Tell me what you saw."
"I saw an annoying pest rudely waking me up," she snapped, shooting him a hard look over her shoulder that dared him to call out her lie. "Now go away, I want to be alone."
"I'll leave when you tell me what you saw," he said. She didn't believe a word he said.
"I just did," she pointed out.
"You're lying," he said lowly before grabbing her arm. He tugged her to a halt and spun her to face him. "Tell me what you've been seeing, woman."
Her eyes narrowed up at him. Stubborn bastard.
"A wolf," she finally answered. She wouldn't say any more than that. He needn't know more.
His grip loosened with his surprise and she took the opportunity to escape him. Just as she expected, he followed after her once he brushed away his stupor.
"What happened to the wolf?"
"I cut him, obviously," she said, half laughing.
"So I'm the wolf," he determined, and she froze in the path, mouth gaping. She hadn't meant to imply that.
Shaking her head, she quickly walked on. "No, you're not," she bit out quietly.
"You cut the wolf for trying to wake you," Kid summarized. "And here I am, cut after trying to wake you."
She ground her teeth. Why did he have to be so observant? And stubborn?
"Will you just go away," she yelled, but Kid only walked faster until he was in front of her, turning to walk backwards and hold her gaze with a stern frown. "You're infuriating," she hollered in the face of his persistence.
"It's true, then. You're a seer," he stated, coming to a stop and forcing her to do the same before she crashed into him. "What else have you been dreaming about? Your nightmares before? What did you see?"
"I was fevered! Those were nothing but fever dreams," she tried to argue, even if she knew better. "And what do you mean by it's true!?"
"I told you that Heat talked about your magic," he explained. "He said you might be a seer. One from a clan born of the billows."
She rolled her eyes. "You shouldn't believe every tall tale you hear, Kid. Especially that one. I've heard it before, and that clan is dead. I'm not one of them."
She shoved by him, intent on bringing the discussion to a close. He only continued to follow her.
"Then why are you named as they are?" he asked.
"Because my mother liked the name," she lied. "It's just a name. Should I think that you're a baby goat because you share its name?"
She gloated at his frustrated growl.
"Nami," he snapped. "Why won't you tell me the truth?"
"Because there is no truth you need to know. All you need to know is that I'm a stray you've taken in who will be out of your life in a few weeks. In fact, you already know far more than you need to."
"You might just be a stray, but you're wrong if you think you're leaving any time soon," he said, and she froze mid-step and spun to gape at him.
"What did you just say?"
"You're staying here," he answered, arms crossed and head high, trying to look imposing and authoritative. He only made himself look like a good target for another water pitcher. If only she had thought to bring one.
"You have no right to decide that," she argued.
"Until you satisfy your debt to me, then I think I do." His brow arched, daring her to refute that argument. They both knew that she couldn't. Her shoulders slumped in defeat, and Kid's posture relaxed with her submission. "You're safe here, you know." She looked up at him with a sullen frown. "I've passed word around the village and farms that any outsiders who come searching for a woman are to be sent to me. No one is to say anything of your existence here. As far as your usurper will be concerned, you're no more than a ghost."
"Are you offering me protection?" she asked with quiet disbelief.
"If you'll take it," he said, nodding.
"Why? Why would you do that for me? I'm little better than a stranger. You should have left me behind in the woods, and as grateful as I am that you didn't, you've already done more than enough for me. You have no obligation to protect me," she argued.
"Don't I?" he asked, head cocked curiously. "The gods brought you to me. I think that gives me an obligation to you, whether either of us like it or not."
"You can defy them," she argued. "I wouldn't blame you if you did."
"Tell me what you are and where you come from, and we'll see if I change my mind."
"You're not going to give up until I do, huh?" She sighed and walked a few paces from the path were a large rock sat buried in the sloping hill. The ground around it was soft from the rains that had passed through the area the night before, and hidden within the trees, the sun that day hadn't reached the soil to dry it.
"If you stay, then I won't." He followed her into the trees, and when she lowered herself onto the rock, he crouched in front of her. He held her with a steady gaze.
She sighed again. "I was wrong," she whispered. His brow rose, and her lips quirked up with a tired smile. "You're not just infuriating, you're also insufferable."
Kid chuckled. "If you're sticking around, might want to get used to that." He leaned forward, grinning at her. "And I was wrong, too. You're still stubborn, even without the fever."
She snorted, allowing herself to relax.
"I'll tell as much as I can," she began, relenting to his questions. He wouldn't leave her alone about the subject until he got a satisfying answer. "But what did Heat tell you of the clan born from the waves? There are multiple versions of the tale."
He quickly summarized what his healer had told about the matriarchal clan, and when he was done, she could see how confused the whole story left him. She wasn't surprised. It was meant to confuse anyone who tried to think too much about that clan. It was also why there were a number of versions with subtle differences in each. The one he heard was the most common among the Svear.
"That tale's a ruse, isn't it? None of it's true," Kid asked.
"Some is true, but most isn't," she admitted. "And most of the lies are… twisted truths. When I learned the stories, both true and false, I couldn't make sense of it, either. But, I was a child at the time."
"Why the deceit?"
"It's just as your healer said – men sought the power the clan held, they tried to claim them and use them. If everyone knew the true nature of the clan, they would never know peace." She took a deep breath and shut her eyes, trying to decide what more to tell him. She couldn't risk telling him the whole truth. She couldn't believe it herself, after all, even after seeing the night Bellemere told her the story and being reminded of just where she came from. When she let out her breath and looked to Kid again, he was sitting on the ground, eagerly waiting for her version of the tale. He looked like nothing more than a curious child, not a fearsome berserker or annoying jarl.
"Long, long ago, there had been a clan born of the billows. They could work seidr well, but nothing like the clan I was born from. They brought bountiful catches when the men fished with their nets. They spelled their longboats to see them safely over the waters. And they saw a number of prosperous years, filled with the gods' blessings." Nami sighed when she caught Kid lean forward. Truly little better than an excited child listening to an old legend. "With each generation, the clan began to lose its power and blessings. They didn't understand why. They had made all the same sacrifices to Rán, had done their best to keep the lineage pure, but still their magic seemed to wane.
"It's told that one day a valkyrie came, carrying a babe wrapped in the fur of a mountain cat, with strings of gold and amber held in her tiny hands. The valkyrie told them that the gods had chosen them to take in the child, promising renewed blessings and prosperity so long as they claimed her as one of theirs, and refused anyone else seeking to claim her, or her progeny, for any reason.
"Of course, they agreed, and the child was passed to their high priestess. The valkyrie whispered to her the child's true nature, and bound her from sharing the truth with anyone outside the clan."
"What was her true nature?" Kid interrupted.
Nami gave him a look of reproach, but he only stared back, intently waiting for the answer.
"If she could not tell anyone outside the clan, then what makes you think I can?" Nami huffed. "All I can tell you is that her mother was not born from a woman of Midgard." Kid frowned at her cryptic answer, but Nami ignored it and continued to elaborate. "The mother, the first prophetess of the lineage, had been desired by many, but refused all. She laid with a man in ritual, a man who only thought her to be an average spae-wife. After she gave birth to her daughter, though, the man returned, saying he had seen her for who she truly was, and claimed her and her daughter as his possessions. When the mother refused, he grew violently mad.
"He brought war to their small village. His forces slaughtered any who stood in their way, and any who dared run. They looted the homes before burning them all to the ground, leaving nothing to remain in their wake. The villagers had sent the priestess away, urging her to flee with her child. The madman caught up to them, and in a fit of rage cut the mother down from behind. She clung to life long enough to draw the sword she stole away with. They say the valkyries had come to her aid in that moment, lent strength to her dying frame, and restrained the unworthy man daring to take her and the child. Her sword ran through his heart while all her blood had pooled in the mud around her."
Nami took a deep breath and shut her eyes. She hated this story, if only because it truly was the beginning of the curse.
"Her body died cradling her infant daughter close, while her spirit lingered just long enough to wrap the girl in her furs and gold. She would have fought against death longer, but the valkyries swore to take the child somewhere safe so that her soul could rest at peace in Freyja's realm."
"Heat said the unworthy man was cursed with madness for trying to take her," Kid grunted, brows furrowed in confusion. "Why would he be cursed for trying to claim his daughter and take the mother as wife?"
Nami's brow rose. "He never intended to claim them as wife and daughter. I said he claimed them as possessions. He meant to take them as slaves, to use their seidr for his own gain, and possibly gain the favor of their ancestors. His madness came from his greed."
"Tsh, every man's greedy," he grunted. "So no man is worthy."
She caught herself smiling. "While that is true, some men's greed can only be fulfilled with their own power. They have no desire to use the magic of a woman or child. They will attain a prosperous fate with their own hands, their own sword."
"Are you saying they might be worthy?"
"I can't say for certain. No man like that has ever sought one of my ancestors for himself."
Kid hummed, a mixture of thought and understanding in the sound as he nodded to himself.
"So what of the clan who came to claim the orphan?" he asked, pulling the tale back to where she had been before he interrupted.
"At first, life was peaceful and prosperity returned to their village, just as promised. The daughter was claimed as the high priestess' child and given the name of a billow. When asked of the furs and gold, the priestess said the child had been blessed by the gods with the gifts to celebrate the newly birthed magic within the clan. None thought to question it since her magic was not too different from theirs. While she was gifted with sight, her seidr was just as strong in blessing their nets and boats, and as she grew older, they saw she had a natural proclivity for the sea and navigating. It made sense to them. She was a daughter of the sea, after all. Her foresight was only considered an added blessing.
"But when she came of age, the priestess brought her adopted daughter into more rituals. With the knowledge of what happened to her mother, the priestess took care in vetting any man who showed interest in the young woman for her first bedding. She turned away many before allowing one to lay with her in a fertility ritual."
"Why even let her lay with anyone?" Kid growled. "If they were so afraid of a man going mad, they should have avoided it altogether."
"Because her mother had already foreseen what would come from her lineage's survival."
"Did she see that she would have to die for that future to come to pass?"
"No one knows."
"And what is this great future she had to protect, anyway? So the lineage is gifted with foresight. It might be rare, but it isn't unique to you. Other priestesses have been known to hold that power."
"But no other share the potential this one clan did."
"And what potential is that?"
Nami pursed her lips.
"Nami?" he urged.
"If I told you what she was claimed to have seen, then you might desire it for yourself," she pointed out. "Even though I doubt it's possible to attain."
"I take it that it's safe to assume the men who have lain with your clan came to understand this potential?" Kid asked. When Nami kept her mouth tight and glared, he huffed in annoyance. "All right. Keep your great secret."
She nodded gratefully at his retreat from that subject, as grudging as it was. She truly doubted the prophecy her ancestor had supposedly seen, but she wouldn't let Kid, or anyone, entertain the possibility it was true. She still wished the whole tale was nothing more than a bedtime story.
"So this next daughter – I take it the man went mad, just as her father had?" Kid asked.
"He did, and just like her mother, she was fatally wounded while protecting her daughter."
"Whatever this power is, it can't be worth the price this clan is paying," he grumbled.
"And the gods agreed," Nami said. "After the second slaughter, the gods came together at Freyja's behest to find a better means to protect the daughters. Odin agreed to send his valkyries to choose the nine strongest maidens to bear shield and sword, and sent them to protect the mothers and daughters born thereafter. Each generation would receive nine new maidens to shield them. At the same time, the priestesses of the billows' clan that survived the last slaughter were permitted to know the truth of the daughters with the understanding that they spread tales of the curse that had fallen upon the clan because of the actions of a wicked, unworthy man."
"So they're not really cursed?"
Nami frowned. "I think they were cursed the moment they entered this realm. I believe they were born cursed. Their potential should never have been brought to a world where it can be abused by men."
"Cynical," Kid mused. "But probably wise given the scum that seek power through any means."
She nodded and pushed on with the tale. "For about ten generations, the shieldmaidens defended the prophet daughters of the clan. Without fail, each generation had to war with the father of the next, but their warriors were always successful in driving them away. Some men died in the battles, but those that survived continued to walk the realm, as mad with greed and dark desire as they were when they sought to claim the power they were never worthy of. They all died within ten years of their defeat."
"And what of you? Was your generation of warriors the one that failed?"
Nami frowned and looked away. "Yes. Only one survived. She smuggled me away and hid with me in Tingstad, the village she had been born in. Jarl Genzo offered the same protection you're offering me, swore none would learn of our presence there. I was raised without knowing about my birth family until I was nine, and I didn't believe a word of it until I was ten and Arlong came. Even then I doubted it… The last week, since I washed ashore, has made me more willing to believe some of it."
"Heat said with the mark frayed, your magic would begin to awaken as it should have," Kid said, and then frowned thoughtfully. "Is Arlong your father?"
Nami released a sharp laugh. "No. He most certainly is not my father."
"Then why does he wish to claim you? I thought it was only the father who desired the power of the mother and daughter."
"He knows nothing of my clan's potential or true nature. He only believes me to be one of Rán's daughters, blessed by the sea, just as he was the same through Aegir. He intends to use me to create an empire for himself and destroy the unworthy who think they hold sovereignty over everyone. He means to go to war with the Christians."
"And how will he use you for that purpose?"
"I failed to ask him his whole plan before I ran away," she said.
"You knew enough that you felt you had to run," Kid pointed out, his eyes narrowing on her. She raised her brow and pointedly refused to say more. She didn't wish to give voice to Arlong's intentions. She would rather drown in the sea he so loves than think to entertain his ambitions. When Kid saw that he would not get any more from her, he sighed and leaned forward, propping his chin in a hand as he turned pensive. "You said it was Odin who sent the valkyries to pick your family's protectors?"
Nami nodded. "They swore their oaths to Odin and Freyja, wore strings of silver beads etched with the likeness of a raven and boar, and had bracelets gifted by the valkyries that chose them for the honor." Her hand went to play with the gold bangle on her wrist, drawing Kid's gaze to the trinket.
He grunted in understanding and stared at the bracelet for a long, silent moment. When he met her gaze again, he wore a determined look.
"Your shieldmaidens failed in the end," he said bluntly. She bit her lip to keep it from quivering as the barbed comment struck close to her heart. "That's why you were brought to me. Odin's decided you need the protection of his warriors now. Merciless wolves who will tear every threat apart, limb from limb."
"And you intend to follow your god's will?" she asked. "Even knowing the danger?"
"I intend to keep your usurper-jarl from finding you. And should you ever lay with a man to continue your lineage, I won't take any risk of him proving unworthy. I'll kill him the moment he steps out of your bed. That's what those women should have done from the start if they were so set on passing these gifts to another generation," he growled, and she didn't miss the sarcastic bite he gave to her gifts. It seemed he shared her opinion of them being more a curse than a blessing. "A mad man can't return to harm you if I send him straight to Hel."
She frowned. He needed to know. As much as she wished for her dream to only be a dream, a feverish delusion, she could not risk it coming to pass.
"You will die," she whispered.
He glared. "You don't know that."
She met his glare with a hard stare that she couldn't hold for long before it became tinged with sadness. She saw realization dawn on him as tears stung her eyes.
"As I said…" she said softly. "You will die… At the feet of a giant."
Kid took a deep breath, and then let it out in a long rush.
"Then I'll die…" he decided with a firm nod. "But I'll see that giant dies with me."
That single declaration was all it took to make her tears fall free. She didn't want to grieve another death. She didn't want to see her dream turn into reality. She didn't want this cursed fate.
She buried her face in her arms, unable to hold back the sob that quaked through her whole body. She refused to look up when she heard him stand. She didn't move until she felt something soft and warm fall over her head, blocking out the world and shrouding her in darkness. Her grief was lodged in her throat for a moment as she listened to him walk away, finally leaving her to the solitude she had desired.
When she couldn't hear the sound of his feet crunching on the soil and twigs and stones of the pathway, Nami sank into the fur draped around her, drawing it tight, and let herself grieve the fate darkening their future.
And wished for the power to change it all.
A/N: So, I was super excited when I saw sleep thorns were a thing in Old Norse tradition and legend. They're called a Svefnthorn and are typically used in trickery, but in 'The Saga of the Volsungs', Odin used one on the Valkyrie Brynhildr to put her in a deep sleep that she would not be able to awaken from until someone crossed the large circle of fire he had lit around her body, which the hero Sigurd eventually accomplished. It's like Sleeping Beauty or Snow White, but with powerful Norse deities and warriors. I played with the look of it, in a sense, but there isn't much known on what specifically the thorn looked like and there were different spells recounted for it, but they all involve four needle-like (or harpoon-like) runes being carved into something, usually wood.
Every time I write about Bellemere, I start to tear up. I just love her so much.
In case you guys didn't pick up on it between the dream and Nami's story - The silver beads that Bellemere wore, etched with ravens and boars, were symbolic of the gods she made her oath to. Ravens for Odin (as stated in the previous chapter, and obviously it's a symbol he's most associated with), while the boar is symbolic to Freyja (as well as her brother Freyr - both, especially the brother, are Vanir gods highly worshiped in Sweden). Freyja was always accompanied by the boar Hildisvini, and had a chariot pulled by two cats.
Also, Västerås is a city that actually dates back to this time period, and still exists. The setting and location worked perfectly, so I used it. Agnafit is an old name for the area around Stockholm, which is set to the east of Västerås.
And, I gave some huge hints in this chapter to who the matriarch goddess of Nami's family is, and at the same time explained who definitely isn't that figure. But I'm not going to say exactly who it is until the end. Because I'm sure you all have made some guesses by now, and I'm hoping you're all wrong. Close, but wrong.
Anyway, thank you for all the reviews so far! I'm glad a lot of you seem to be enjoying it. :)