Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda.
Selvedge
He had thought seeing her wake up in tears was the worst sight he could see, but watching her break down in front of him, cry for him – that was surely the most painful thing to witness.
People did not cry for him. They cried because of him. He doubted anyone outside of the men he fought with would mourn his passing, but there she was, mourning for him before he was even a ghost in her memory. He knew she thought of the others who suffered for her in the past, along with the inescapable fate that would make him yet another of them.
As he walked away from her, leaving her to grieve alone, he decided they were tears of self-pity, tears of despair over her ill fate and the curse she believed to be born with that tore people from this world. There was no way she could be so distraught over him, a stranger. She grieved for herself. That had to be it. Believing her tears to be for herself at least lessened the sharp dagger he felt twist in his chest over the thought that some pitiful woman would cry for him.
It didn't take the pain away entirely, though, instead left it a heavy ache that weighed him down. He stared into a cup of ale for the rest of the day to try to understand why.
His men seemed to sense his mood and stepped carefully around the hall to avoid disturbing him. He didn't even know they were there until Heat came in and dropped his fur cloak on the table in front of him.
"She's sleeping peacefully again," was all he said before joining the others around the fire.
He stared at the room that was typically filled with raucous laughter and song, and found his men huddled together, whispering and casting him thoughtful looks. He could smell supper and noticed the thralls already hustled about, serving the men plates and ale.
How long had he been trapped in thought?
He shook away that question, along with his thoughts, and silently took in the meal he finally saw set in front of him. He had better things to think of than her tears, after all. Once his plate had been picked clean, he sat back to wash it down with warm ale. A servant came to clear his table, but he grabbed her arm to stop her.
"Leave," he ordered, waving toward the door. "I want everyone out. Except my men."
She and the other thralls stared at him in confusion. Even his friends frowned in silent question. He would answer them soon enough, but he wanted privacy for what he had to tell them, and a man couldn't trust a thrall to keep a secret.
"Out," he bellowed, and the next moment the servants raced for the door, unwilling to test him further. "Bar the door," he ordered Wire as he stood to refill his cup with a pitcher one of the servants left behind. "What I'm about to tell you does not leave this hall. You will not share this tale with anyone outside of this room, and I advise you all to forget it as soon as you hear it to lessen the temptation to gossip about it with the villagers."
There was no ringing agreement, but each nodded earnestly. They watched him take a seat on his table and patiently waited for him to swallow down the ale in his cup as he gathered his thoughts. He wasn't sure how much he should share with his men. He trusted them to follow his orders, but Nami's warnings and fears left him uneasy. She didn't seem to understand her magic and foresight any more than he did, and there was no telling how it could affect the others. If one of his men were to become taken with her, she might no longer be safe among them.
It was a good thing Nami held some of the details for herself. He had less to lie about.
He told his men of Arlong, a man claiming to be a son of Aegir. He told them of the clan born of the billows and the orphan child they were given. He kept the origins of her ancestors to himself. They at least knew she was not descended from the clan. They didn't need to know that the mother of her ancestors was not of their realm, though most of them were smart enough to surmise as much on their own.
He told them of the shieldmaidens sworn to Odin and Freyja, and that Nami was likely brought to them to take up the task of her protection.
They all made grunts and calls of acceptance in their role. If the gods believed them capable of protecting someone close to them, then surely that meant they were worthy of entrance into Valhol when the time came.
He didn't share Nami's prophecy of his fate. Their willingness to protect her might wane if they knew his life was forfeit in the end.
With the tale told, as riddled with holes as it was, his men sank into the revelry normally found in their hall at night. They were happy to prove their worth, and they thought Nami's presence would surely bless them and the village. They didn't care that they would inevitably have to go to war for her, be it against Arlong or some man whose mind was touched with madness; they would happily run headlong into battle without a thought for the fate they would meet in the end.
They were warriors to the core, after all. They found life in battle, right on the precipice of death.
While the hall took on a jovial mood, the men opened the doors to invite the servants back in to clean up their meal before Kid shooed them out once more, unwilling to trust them with any knowledge of Nami's purpose there. Once everyone was settled in with full pitchers of ale and the room was barred again, Kid kept to his chair, content to watch his men rather than join in with the festive atmosphere.
"Did she tell you what she dreamed?" Heat asked quietly as he took a seat at his table.
Kid frowned at him, as well as Killer and Wire who decided to join. They stared expectantly, and he let out a sigh, turning his gaze to the fire at the center of the room.
"She did," he grunted.
"And?"
"It's not good."
"And you're still willing to give her your protection?" Killer asked.
"If what she's seen is how my fate has been woven, I doubt there is any way to change course at this point. Even if I sent her away, somehow she would be guided back to us. If I killed her to avoid whatever war she might bring us, the gods would surely bring their wrath down on me, and see that the fate I meet is far worse than what she's dreamed of." He sank into his chair, glowering at nothing. "If I'm meant to die, then I'd rather it be of my own making."
And he'll see he doesn't leave their realm alone.
"Then what shall we do with her?" Wire asked this time. "You said you would find a use for her here. Do you still intend to put her to work, or will she remain a guest to be hidden from everyone outside this hall?"
Kid snorted. "She won't be useless here. She might be a seer, but she isn't a spoiled princess to be kept locked in a room and only shown off for a select few. And if we hid her, that would only stir more rumors. The servants would talk. And anyone in the village who takes notice of any clothes or jewelry we gather for her will surely start asking questions and spreading rumors, and that will only bring word to that jarl she's hiding from." He scratched his cheek in thought. "How much longer do you wish to keep her, Heat?"
"Her fever has broken, but I want to keep an eye on her until she's regained all her stamina. Her nightmares left her exhausted. Give her a few more days of rest, and then she can be moved wherever you wish to keep her."
Kid nodded. "When you believe she's well enough, we'll move her into my hall. I can find work for her here."
"And what do you plan to tell the villagers?" asked Killer.
Kid hadn't thought that far ahead, but he knew he would have to come up with a story for them. He didn't want them to see her as a slave or lowly servant, she could be mistreated then. To bring a free woman into his home, though; she had to be important, given a position worthy of respect.
"Her seidr," he murmured to himself, and then sat upright, raising his voice so the others might hear. "We'll claim her to be the daughter of a jarl seeking my alliance, entrusted to us as a ward while acting as a priestess. If the tale is true, her clan's magic was useful in blessing ships and sails. She's here to provide us with good fortune and prosperity at sea. But see that they continue to send outsiders to me should any come asking of her."
"Do you really think they'll come this far in search of her?" Wire asked. "Heat said she sailed here in a faering. This jarl surely has to believe Nami is dead if she ventured out into the straits alone."
"He believes her to be blessed by Rán. He won't believe that she died at sea unless he sees her body on the ocean floor. From what she told me, it sounds as though his ambition has driven him to search for her even after hearing that the clan had been slaughtered. He won't be easily discouraged." He sank back into his chair again. "And Nami won't be discouraged, either. She doesn't want my protection, even if she knows she needs it. I have no doubt that she'll run at the first opportunity or sign of danger."
"You want her watched at all times?" Killer asked.
"As much as possible." Kid nodded.
"I'll arrange it."
He merely nodded his gratitude and sank into another pensive silence.
Hours later, her sobs continued to weigh on him. He'd have to make sure she never cried like that again.
He kept his distance from her for a day, unwilling to risk witnessing another break down. Killer visited her instead and returned with word of her improved mood. He claimed that she was smiling and laughing, and well enough to help Heat with chores around the house. He wasn't sure if he could believe that her attitude had turned around that much, but he hoped for her sake that it had.
It was late morning two days after she shared her tale when he ventured back toward the secluded home. He could hear the echoing chop of an axe splitting wood as he climbed over wet earth and rocks, through thin trees, and wasn't surprised to see Heat out in his yard, hard at work. What he hadn't expected to hear as he came closer was the tinkling sound of a woman's laughter.
He hung back at the slender fence around the property to watch Nami attempt to feed Heat's pigs. They were eager for the slop she carried in a bucket and crowded around her legs while she tried to get into their pen. A thrall woman helped push the pigs away, slipping on soft soil in the process. Her struggles seemed to be the source for Nami's laughter. But as far as he could tell, her amusement wasn't malicious. She even grabbed the other woman's arm to keep her on her feet.
Most people didn't show any sort of kindness or familiarity to a servant so far beneath them.
He pushed away from the fence once she poured the slop into the small wooden trough. She took notice of him as he headed toward her, and all her good cheer was lost into a deep frown. He ignored the wariness in her gaze and grinned at her.
"I see Heat's put you to work," he remarked, sauntering toward the pen.
The thrall wasted no time heading to the house, her gaze set on the ground as she passed him. Nami watched after her, eyes narrowed in annoyance when they turned back to him. She didn't try to rush off and took her time to latch the pen.
"I'm grateful for everything Heat's done to help me," Nami said as he leaned against the pen railing. "I'm more than happy to help with his chores while I stay here."
Kid nodded. "Good. When I move you to the hall, I'll see you have plenty to do to show your gratitude to me, too."
She sent him a withering glare.
He chuckled at her ire. "Don't look at me like that. You agreed to it. I have to get fair compensation somehow."
"I have no problem helping around your hall and the village, Kid, but I'd rather not stay at your house."
It was his turn to scowl. "Why not?"
Nami shrugged and began to move toward the house, but he stood straight to cut off her path. She sighed heavily and shifted the bucket that he noticed still had some slop left in it.
He took a step back when she glared. She rolled her eyes and propped a hand on a cocked hip, letting the bucket hang limply from her other hand. She didn't look ready to throw anything at him, but he knew it was only a matter of time before she lost her temper.
"I think it would be best if I stay out of the village. If anyone comes searching for me, it'll be easier to escape. When Arlong came for me as a child, he almost missed our home because it was a ways from the village. He only searched for it after seeing the smoke."
"He still found you."
"We had a better chance of escaping."
"Then why didn't you?"
She looked away with a frown. "I didn't want to leave Bellemere behind," she explained softly. "But I won't have that hesitation this time. If I'm here and given warning, I'll run."
"I'd rather you remain with me. You'll be safer in my home, surrounded by me and my men. No one can take you from my hall," he argued.
"And if Arlong comes and manages to get into your hall, through whatever guards you give me, then I'll be cornered in your home with no hope of escape," she reasoned.
"That won't happen."
"You don't know that," she snapped back.
He took a step toward her with a growl. "You're my responsibility now, and I'm the one in charge around here. You'll do as I say, and not argue about it."
"You can't boss me around," she huffed.
His brow arched, mildly amused at her stubbornness. "Fine. Then I'll tie you up and haul you over my shoulder to get you into my home, and then I'll lock you in a closet to keep you there. Would you rather that, or will you come willingly?"
Her jaw dropped, and then snapped shut. She glared hard and he swore he heard a growl rumble in her throat.
"I'll take that to mean I don't need to keep rope on me," he said, laughing.
"Jerk," she hissed under her breath.
He merely threw his head back and laughed again. "Just be happy you get your own bed and quarters. You don't seem the type who would enjoy sleeping in a room surrounded by strange men."
She huffed again, and didn't bother to thank him for the consideration.
Seeing that she was well, and not crying, he turned to head back to the village.
"We'll have your room ready tomorrow," he said. "In the meantime, I think you ought to practice catching the mice around here."
"Why?" she asked uncertainly.
"Well, you're our new stray cat. Only stands to reason that you catch some mice for us," he teased, walking backwards to watch her jaw tick with annoyance. "Got to earn your keep somehow." He began to walk faster when she followed after him, her hand gripped tight to the slop bucket. He grinned at the spark of anger in her eye. "There's some fat ones in the stable, too. Might be a good meal for you one night." He chuckled when he noticed a hint of a smile show through her irritation. She seemed to know he was only teasing her. That was good. Though, he really didn't like the determination in her gait as she sped up. "Just promise you won't leave the dead mice in my bed like the last cat did."
He knew she was going to throw the rest of the slop at him, but she moved faster than he could dart out of the way. He listened to her laugh while he scraped ground barley and chunks of vegetables off his face. Her laughter died at the sound of his growl, and she jumped back with a quiet shriek when his glare settled on her.
She screamed when he took a step toward her and ran for the house.
"You little witch," he growled, and quickly chased after her.
He batted away the bucket she threw in a vain attempt to hold him at bay. She twisted away from his hand when he made to grab her, and he swore he heard a quiet giggle when he grazed her arm. She sped up to put more distance between them, and got into the house with enough time to slam the door shut in his face. He heard her call for the thrall inside to help lower the bar on the door. He probably could have crashed right through if he tried hard enough, but he skidded to a halt and threw a half-hearted strike at the wood.
He could feel Heat's glare on the back of his head, but ignored it as he tried to peer through the door slats to catch a glimpse of the snickering woman on the other side. He caught a flash of orange hair, and the barest peek of a brown eye.
"You can't hide in there forever," he said, wearing a malicious grin that grew when he heard a stifled laugh. He leaned in close to level his eye on hers through the slats. "I'll pay you back three times over for this." He could just make out the amused crinkling at the corner of her eye, and stepped back to lightly rap on the wood where her head would be. He was glad she didn't see him as a threat. He was especially glad that she hadn't sunk into melancholy with her fate. Life for them would be far easier if she kept on smiling like that. "I'll be back for you in a few days. Don't cause Heat any trouble until then."
When he turned to leave, he caught Heat watching him with a thoughtful glower. He ignored the look and sauntered down the hill to his village.
Even dripping with slop and in desperate need of a bath, he couldn't wipe the grin from his face.
By week's end, Heat had given him leave to take Nami to his hall. During that time, he and the men rearranged the private living quarters of the hall.
His men that didn't have their own homes usually slept out in the main room, on fur beds that were tucked into chests during the day. Most guests that came to his hall slept in the room with them, but Kid doubted Nami would enjoy that. The front room was also too exposed, even if they barred the doors at night, so Kid was reluctant about leaving her there.
The previous jarl had built separate quarters near the back, partially hidden from the rest of the house behind half built walls, leather nets, and sheer linen curtains. One room held the large bed the previous Jarl had shared with his wife, a dark wooden table, a number of chests filled with furs, bedding, and stores of gold, and a cushioned bench that sat at the end of the bed. There was a room beside it, separated with a heavier curtain of leather and linen, that the former jarl had set aside for his daughter. It had some measure of privacy, but still allowed the family to keep an eye on the girl and keep her from danger.
When Kid moved in, he had originally torn down those curtains to expand his room into the other, keeping the space for extra storage. Now he had put the curtains back and cleared out the weapons he had stored in there. They spread thick fur pelts over the wood floors to keep the room cozy and warm, and Kid built a new bed for Nami. He had an extra chest in his room that he moved to hers. Eventually she would have more clothing to fill the container, but for now it only held bedding she might want on especially cold nights. He wasn't sure what else she might need in there, but he felt that for now the basics would be enough.
That afternoon he prepared to head up to Heat's to bring her to the village, already expecting he might have to drag her down there, but paused when he spotted the healer in the front room of his hall, chatting with Wire.
"Nami wanted to see more of the village today," he explained, gesturing toward the door. "Killer offered to escort her around."
Kid grunted his thanks and headed off in search of her. He went to the main road where people set up markets for trade. He found no sign of her or Killer on the crowded path, but a villager pointed him in the direction they had gone. Apparently she befriended one of the women.
The home he found her in was situated well inside the village, a number of other wooden homes crowded around the small hovel. The road there was narrow and Kid had to dart to the side just outside the home when a group of children went running out with sticks in hand to act as swords. He heard them arguing about who would be Sigurd and save Brynhildr, and watched them chase and smack each other before the sound of Nami's laughter drew his attention back to the house.
She sat inside by a small fire, a little girl no older than five standing between Nami's legs as she watched her sew up a garment. Killer sat on the floor near her, his feet propped on a wooden stool as he sipped from a cup of ale. And in the corner, at the home's tall loom, was the old lady who lived there, busy weaving woolen threads for cloth.
"Making friends, I see," Kid said as he ducked into the home.
Killer glanced up with a smile and let his feet drop from the stool to invite Kid to sit. Nami looked up from her work long enough to greet him with a hint of a smile.
"Killer told me that Ingrid was kind enough to lend me one of her daughter's old dresses," Nami explained, nodding toward the old woman who abandoned her loom to get him a cup. "We ran into her while she was buying yarn."
Kid settled onto the stool and grinned at the old woman as she handed over his ale. She was one of the nicer villagers he genuinely liked, even before he became the jarl. Her house was a favorite place for the younger kids to visit, especially those who had nowhere else to go. Ingrid's husband had died decades earlier. Her son died in battle only a few years ago, and the man's wife fell ill two winters before and passed, leaving their daughter in the old woman's care.
A weathered hand with knotted joints pressed to his shoulder as Ingrid leaned down to press a peck to his forehead, letting out a hoarse laugh when he tried to edge away from the affection. Nami had glanced up to see the gesture and wore a strangely amused smile that left him uneasy, even if he preferred that expression over her sadness.
"You picked up a sweet woman while you were away," Ingrid remarked as she stood straight and headed back to her loom. "Offered to keep those stray pups busy while I worked, and even took up some of my mending. The gods know I can't sew a proper seam anymore with these hands."
"Are you the reason the boys are running wild in the village now?" Kid asked, smirking at Nami.
She was intent on showing Ingrid's granddaughter how to tie off her stitch, but managed to let out a short laugh.
"They overheard us talking about the sleep thorn Heat made for me," Nami began to explain.
Ingrid cut her off with a huff and turned back to wag a disapproving finger at him. "That healer of yours was dabbling in dangerous magic. Should never have taken that risk."
Kid glared. When he learned about the sleep thorn, he had shared that same opinion, but seeing Nami in better spirits made him hesitate to disparage his healer's decision. It obviously helped her heal as she needed.
"I keep telling her that it was just fine," Nami said with a sigh, even rolling her eyes at the old woman who waved her off with a quiet "Bah!" to express her continued disapproval before she returned to the loom. "Anyway, Ingrid mentioned Brynhildr, and the boys had to hear the story of how Sigurd crossed the fire Odin had set to wake her from the enchantment. They decided I must be Brynhildr since one of Odin's men put me to sleep, and now they're all trying to see who is worthy enough to be my Sigurd."
He chuckled at the cocky expression she wore. "Too bad one of Odin's men already woke you," he said, leaning forward to grin at her. "Does that make me your Sigurd?"
She let out a sharp laugh that clearly said he wasn't. Ingrid tossed a roll of thread at him, sharing Nami's opinion on the ludicrous idea. Even Killer chuckled quietly into his cup.
"Someday I'll slay a dragon and have you all swallowing that laughter," Kid huffed.
"Don't aspire to be a reflection of a dead hero, Jarl Kid," Ingrid lectured. "You aspire to be your own kind of hero, slay gods and giants, as well as dragons, and we'll weave some good tales of you to pass on after you enter Valhol."
He snorted as he downed the last of his drink, and shot Nami a quick look. Her amusement had waned as she put her attention back on the little girl. The clothing she mended was a dress for the child, with it done, she helped tug it over her head. When she noticed him watching her, she held his gaze with a chilly frown for a moment, and then she returned to dressing the child.
There was no doubt she had thought of the giant he swore to slay for her, and now her good humor was lost.
"I'll keep that in mind, old lady," Kid grunted as he pushed off the stool. He tossed his cup onto a table. "Thanks for the ale, but I need to get my guest settled into the hall."
"She's staying with you?" Ingrid asked, glancing over her shoulder at him with a cocked brow.
"Cleaned up the women's quarters for her," he answered with a nod.
A raspy hum escaped the old woman's throat and then she went back to her weaving. He couldn't even begin to guess where her thoughts lay, but it didn't matter to him as he waved toward the door to signal Nami and Killer leave with him.
Nami stood, smoothed out her dress, and then turned for the door. She paused when Ingrid's granddaughter grasped the hem of her skirt and pouted up at her. Nami managed to smile again as she crouched down to kindly pat the girl on the head.
"I'll come by to play again," she promised, and then glanced up at the old woman who had taken to watching her with a curious frown. The smile Nami wore was radiant, though Kid noted a hint of strain to give away the more somber thoughts that lurked in her mind. "If you need help with the kids or mending again, just send word."
Ingrid nodded, then waved her off. "I'll keep that in mind, though I've a feeling our jarl will keep you busy enough. The man's never had a proper woman in his house. Be mindful he doesn't take advantage and work you to the bone like one of his thralls."
Nami looked at him with a raised brow, surely wondering if she should take that warning to heart.
He rolled his eyes and headed out the door. He wasn't going to treat her like a damn slave, and she should know as much. If he intended that, he wouldn't have given her a separate room, and he definitely wouldn't have cared enough to let her stay with Heat until she was fully recovered.
He'd have made her sleep in the stables or shed if he intended to use her in that manner.
He didn't have to look back to know she and Killer followed him out, and led the way back to his hall. At least Nami was done arguing with him about her housing, and he was glad that she was making an effort to learn the village. This place would be her home for the foreseeable future, after all.
At the hall, Nami stopped just inside the door and stared wide-eyed at the men loitering inside. The sight seemed to leave her wary, and Kid was certain that the only reason she hadn't run away was because Killer stood behind her, barring her way out.
"Guys," Kid called out, waving between Nami and his men. "This is Nami. Nami, stop staring at 'em like they're giants. They aren't going to hurt you." As she gave him a stuttered nod, he shot a glare at the men staring at her. He noticed that a few seemed to be enjoying the new female presence more than they should be. "If any of 'em do hurt you, just let me know and I'll make sure none of them touch you again."
That got his men to look away from her, clearing their throats as they nodded their understanding of the threat. They might be his friends and most trusted fighters, but his orders were absolute, and they knew to heed them, or he would not hesitate to remind them why he was the jarl.
Nami seemed appeased with their compliance and took a tentative step toward him. Impatient, he grasped her by the arm and tugged her along toward the back. He showed her the hall that led to a side door and path to the outhouse, another hall held his smaller food stores and casks of ale. He had three farms he took from the previous jarl that were leased out to others, each paid for use of the land and gave him a share of the crops to keep at the hall. One farmer made the best ale in the region, and he agreed to send him an unlimited supply in exchange for a fourth farm. And then Killer still owned his own lands, which he left in the care of servants to oversee his livestock and provide their meat, so food was plentiful for them most years.
Once they were at the back, Kid took her to the living quarters he arranged for her and pulled back the linen drapery that acted as a door. Nami was silent as she stepped passed him to inspect the smaller room, her expression closed off and unreadable. He didn't think much of that as he let the fabric drop behind her and went further into the room.
"I'll be on the other side of this curtain," he said, winding his fingers through the net-like leather curtain that hung on either side of the heavy fur and linen draperies he placed in the middle of the space. Metal fastenings bound the strips of leather together and shone in the dim light of the candles set atop a wooden table beside her bed. "If anyone comes for you in the night, I'll hear it."
She nodded, not bothering to look toward his room as her gaze continued to cast over her own. He moved toward the back wall where he hung a tapestry decorated with a knotted snake that was collected from the Saxons during a raid before he became jarl, and pushed it aside while waving her over.
"Since you were worried about being cornered in here," he began to explain as she came closer, and crouched down to a spot near the floor where he had cut away the boards to make an escape hatch. He nailed a peg to the top of the small door to hold it closed, and masked the hinges at the bottom as best he could. With a flick of the peg, the door fell out to create an opening just big enough for Nami to squeeze through. He heard Nami gasp as she knelt down to peer out the hatch. "Leads into the forest. If we're attacked, you can run while we fight. There's some old caves and crevices out there that you can hide in. Once it's safe, someone will come find you."
"And if I keep running?" she asked, glancing at him. "If I hide out in the forest and wait for you to come find me, there's the chance that anyone else can find me."
Kid shrugged. "I'll leave that up to you. My men know to track you down if you run, and it's just as you said, if we're defeated, anyone else can come looking for you." He watched her gaze drift back to the escape hatch. He didn't like the contemplative frown she wore. Tugging the trap door shut, he locked it up and let the tapestry fall in place to conceal it. He turned to her and glared. "You'll be running forever. No matter what happens. Just trust that me and my men will keep you safe."
"I still don't think you have to do this," she said quietly. "I'm not worth it."
He reached out to flick her forehead. Her sullen air vanished with a heated glare as she rubbed the spot.
"I don't know much about you, but obviously someone out there thinks you're worth something if they sent you to me." He leaned forward with a grin. "And what little I do know about you tells me they're not wrong."
Her eyes went wide and mouth fell open as he pushed himself to his feet. He ignored her surprise and yanked her up with him to head toward his room.
"One more thing I have to show you," he said, pushing aside the curtains and dragging her along with him. She struggled for a moment until she noticed the table that sat just on the other side of the curtain. He didn't miss the way her eyes flicked over the parchment laid flat over the desk, held down with little iron wolves. It wasn't what he meant to show her, but her reaction had him curious, so he released her and watched as she stepped closer to inspect the papers.
They weren't anything like the treasures most Norse brought back from their raids, but their rarity in the north made them more valuable to jarls and kings than all the gold in the lands - because they showed them where they might sail to find more gold.
Nami's hand carefully drifted over the sea charts he had claimed during a trip to Paris. A finger followed the coast of the farthest southern tip of their lands' coast. She traced around Hedeby and the lands of the Danes, down the channels to the coastline of the Frankish Empire. She paused and seemed to hesitate at the lands given to their ancestors' cousins – Normandy – but then she quickly continued on her path until she reached the Iberian Peninsula and tapped a finger on the Mediterranean Sea as she looked up at him with a small smile.
"These are some amazing maps," she said. "Where did you get them?"
"Paris," he said and came to stand at her side, lifting the map she was looking over to show the stack of charts beneath. There was one of the islands to the west belonging to the Saxons. Another showed the lands further to the east where the Rus had settled. "You mentioned your clan was skilled at navigation."
Nami nodded, all her reservations washed away in the face of those rare treasures. He watched, intrigued, as she bent over the table to look over the others.
"We are. I always loved to see the charts Jarl Genzo would bring back from trading routes to the south. He has one of the western coast of Africa, and he promised to take me on a trading journey there when I was older," she explained, a hint of bittersweet excitement in her voice at the story. "When I was a kid, he took me out in the longships to teach me how to navigate through the straits. I turned out to be a quick learner, and taught him more than he ever taught me." There was sadness in her laugh as she flipped the maps down to look at the one that showed the southern edge of Svealand and her home. "I stole some spare parchment and ink from him once to draw out my own map of the straits and rivers around Götaland. I finished it the day before Arlong came."
Kid hummed, unsure what he could say to the nostalgic story she shared on her own. The sound was enough to shake her from the melancholy threatening to weigh her down again, and she stood straight with a quiet sniffle. He took in the forced smile she wore, and felt that stabbing ache settle in his chest.
He really hated that feeling.
He grabbed her arm to tug her away from the table, ignoring her huff of annoyance. "Good to know you understand those maps, but that wasn't what I wanted to show you," he said, his tone gruffer than he meant it to be as he forced away the uncomfortable sensation that came with her sadness. "The clan that hid your lineage used the seers to weave and bless their sails, right?"
"They did," Nami said with a nod as they came to one of the chests to the back wall of the room.
He released her to open the chest and yanked out an old sail. It was the sail of the first ship he ever built, torn and tattered and completely useless to him now, but he had too many sentiments for it to ever part with the fabric. He shook it open, and Nami stepped back to cough as dust and dirt flew into the air. It had been stored away for too long.
"This is from my first ship," he explained as he held out the black fabric to her. "I want you to use this to cut out wolf sigils and make new flags for my ships to give them the gods' favor."
"This chore isn't going to keep me that busy," Nami mused as she fingered the coarse wool.
"But it'll do for now."
Kid shut the chest and turned to watch Nami continue to play with the old sail, wearing a thoughtful expression. He flicked her forehead again.
"Stop that," she shrieked, pulling away to rub at the spot he struck.
"I can say the same to you," he growled. "Stop looking like you're trapped in some underworld prison."
Nami pouted at him, somehow managing to make that knife in his chest twist in a different direction, equally as painful.
This time he gave her cheek a pinch and tugged up to create a mockery of a half-smile, ignoring her annoyed shrieks the whole time.
"Stop looking at me like that," he ordered as she batted at his hand. "It's annoying."
She stepped back until he relinquished his hold and glared at him while rubbing the bright red spot on her face. "You're annoying," she snapped. "I might be staying, but I don't have to be happy about it."
"It'll be less of a headache for me if you at least try not to sulk and look at me like I'm already dead. It's depressing."
He watched sadness flicker through her eyes, and then a trace of guilt touched her frown. When his eyes narrowed on her, she hardened her expression into a glare and then turned away with a hiss.
Kid sighed and shoved her toward her room. "Go wash up. I've planned a feast to welcome you into the hall. Hopefully we get you to smile at least one more time tonight."
Nami's lips curved into a terse frown, as though she would stubbornly refuse to smile for the rest of the day, but then she nodded and headed toward her room without further argument. When the curtains fell in place between their rooms, Kid stood watching them sway and settle back into place. He sank down onto his bed once they stilled and slipped his fingers through his hair with a tired groan.
He couldn't shake the feeling that she was going to make a run for it soon.
He probably shouldn't have shown her that damn escape hatch.
When Nami found her way to the main room for supper, she saw that Kid hadn't lied about the feast. The tables were covered with more dishes than they could fit, while the air resonated with raucous laughter and song. The room was awash with light from the stone fire pit at its center, and the sconces hanging from the beams and ceiling. It was warm and inviting, unlike all the feasts she had been a part of over the last eight years. While Arlong held his fair share of suppers and festivals, they were only for his men, leaving the rest of the village to sit in cold silence in their homes around the hall. Here the hall doors were wide open, and the free men and women living in the village were welcome to partake in the revelry and rich meal.
The scents of venison and boar wafted to her. She spied plate upon plate of fish, slathered in butter and onions. Freshly baked bread sat in baskets, with bowls of cabbage stew nearby, and plates piled with cheese wedges were fit wherever there was room. Servant women moved through the over-crowded hall with pitchers of ale filled to the brim to lend to the rowdiness of the guests.
It was early season, so Nami guessed that Kid had an ample food store to provide his men and guests with the lavish meal. Hopefully he hadn't depleted it solely for this single feast.
"Nami," Kid called out from the head table where he sat in an elaborate chair decorated with fur and hide and bone.
As he waved her over, his guests all turned their attention to her. The men who hadn't been in the hall earlier stared the longest, their assessment broken up with a swift cuff to the head and whispered words of warning as they pointed to the jarl. She took some solace in the knowledge that Kid's orders would be heeded, that she would be safe among his men.
Assuming she stayed.
Once at Kid's side, he stood and pressed his hand to the small of her back. She wanted to shift away from the warmth that seeped through her dress and the almost proprietary touch, but his fingers gently curled into the fabric, as if he knew what she would do, and held her there.
Everyone stilled at the sight of their jarl standing, their conversations fell silent, and Nami noticed more villagers squeeze in at the door to listen in on what Kid had to say. He had a large presence that demanded attention, and anyone who might not believe he was a jarl would be proven sorely wrong once they witnessed his easy command.
"I know you've all heard we have a guest staying in the village," he began. "Jarl Ingvar to the west has sent his only daughter to us as a ward and token of good faith between us."
Nami glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, curious of the lie he told. Surely they couldn't just believe him at his word, not when he carried her in on horseback days before after riding to the south. Plenty of villagers had seen her with him. But looking back out to the room, she saw no one willing to question his tale.
"I expect you all to treat her well," he said, his tone low and foreboding. "Protect her as if she were one of your own."
The warning in his voice earned wary glances between villagers, and Nami could feel the tension rise for a moment before they all raised their cups and horns to acknowledge him. Kid's grip loosened at her back, and she turned to see him grinning as he raised his own cup high.
"Now let's get on with the feast and welcome her to my hall," he bellowed, sending the celebration underway with a chorus of cheers and shouts in answer.
With everyone sinking into their meals and cups, Kid threw himself back into his seat and tugged her down into the chair at his left. She glowered at him for a moment, but shook off her annoyance in favor of accepting a cup of ale from one of the servants. Kid had already emptied his and held it out to be refilled, his grin vanished with his stern and thoughtful frown.
She leaned over the arm of his chair. "Jarl Ingvar?" she asked at a hush when the servant skittered away to take care of the others.
Kid grunted as he leaned toward her, taking a generous swallow of his drink. "I'd rather they not hear of any other story of who you are. If rumors too similar to those of your clan spread, it'll only lead your usurper here quicker."
"While I agree with that, what will come when this Ingvar hears you claiming to house one of his children?" she asked at a hiss.
He chuckled and shifted to drape an arm around the back of her chair, coming close enough to whisper in her ear. "There would have to be a Jarl Ingvar to begin with for me to worry about that. As far as I know, no such man exists, at least not along the western coast. There's enough men calling themselves jarls and kings these days that most of the villagers don't bother to remember them all."
That was true enough, and the lie wasn't a bad one. It was far better than continuing to spread the tale of the Svear clan from the billows. She was still held at a high enough status to be protected, and it provided adequate reason for Kid to house her there, but it wasn't so significant to garner more attention from other lands.
Though there was a significance that she didn't believe Kid had considered. She could only hope none of the others picked up on the reasons a man would send his daughter to live with another jarl.
Kid pulled away as villagers began to wander toward their table, and she forgot the conversation amid the flurry of introductions and warm welcomes.
She granted Kid's wish to see her smile as she allowed herself to sink into the festive spirit of the evening. She had no reason to frown or cry that night. She was safe for the time being, and it had been so long since she saw so many happy faces. While her heart ached for the people she left behind, she had to believe that this was for the best. She had to keep smiling, keep moving forward.
And keep herself from getting too attached to anyone.
Nami spent the night playing the part of happy guest. After eating, she roamed the room, chatted with the women about their daily lives, learned the gossip and inside knowledge only a native to the village would know. Some of Kid's men were married and lived in homes away from the hall, and Nami made sure to spend extra time talking to them to keep up appearances. She smiled and laughed and drank. She challenged some of Kid's men to a game of Hnefatafl, and managed to swindle them out of a few pieces of silver until she caught Kid scowling at her over the shoulder of her last victim.
He managed to win half of what she made after challenging her to the next round of games and beating her soundly. The game had been the most difficult thus far, and garnered a crowd of spectators, a few of which willingly cheered for her despite Kid's annoyed growls anytime she gained an advantage. After her king was captured a second time, she surrendered defeat, if only to keep what she had already won.
She might need that silver, after all.
Kid openly gloated for the rest of the night. His good mood drove him to drink with his men even more than he already had. She pretended to sulk at her table and continued to sip at the same cup of ale while she watched Kid join the boisterous songs that came later in the night. She bit her cheek when she found herself smiling genuinely at the sight of him perched on a table, an arm slung around Killer's shoulder as he encouraged some of the drunker men to grab a woman and dance.
She let out an honest laugh when a few of those men were immediately slapped after grabbing the wrong woman. And then the night was nearly lost when a husband tackled one of those men, apparently unsatisfied with the slap his wife doled out as punishment. The brawl was shortened when Nami helped the other women grab buckets of water and douse the inebriated men, literally cooling their tempers with chilly water straight from the fjord.
As the sober guests made their way home late in the night, and the heavily inebriated ones took to sleeping at their tables or on the floor, Nami quietly kept to her table, pretending to finish off one more cup. Her chin was propped on her hand and she let her eyes fall shut. She was tired and could easily doze off there, but she had to remain clearheaded. She barely stirred when she heard a slumping, off-kilter gait approach the table. She pried open an eye when the raised platform shook and saw Kid slouch into his chair at her side, groaning as he laid his head on the table. His hair had long ago fallen from its knot, and the wavy strands hung free to partially conceal his eyes, but she could just make out his hazy, distant gaze between lazily blinks.
"Drink too much?" she asked as she shut her eye again.
Kid grunted. "I still got some wits left."
She listened to him move until she felt his hand pat hard on her back. She didn't bat away his overly friendly touch, merely growled under her breath at him. The hand remained on her back, but she suspected he was too drunk to move again.
"How you holding up?" he asked. "I'm pretty certain you out-drank at least half of my men."
"Only half?" she asked with a giggle. "I must be out of practice."
Kid snorted and the weight of his hand grew heavier. She peered over at him to see his eyes had shut and his mouth hung open, his other arm curled beneath his head as a pillow. She stifled a giggle at the sight of him falling asleep so easily, but he still heard the faint snicker that slipped out and jolted awake with another snort.
"I think you should go to bed," she suggested.
He hummed, pulling his hand away to rub his tired face.
"You go to bed, too," he grumbled as he dragged himself out of his chair. He swatted at the arm propping her up until it knocked her chin free of its perch. She shot him a glare, but he ignored it as he tugged her out of her seat. "Come on," he growled, hauling her to her feet.
She didn't struggle as much as she could have. He was sluggish enough she probably would have been able to shake him off, but she let him drape his arm around her shoulders, sinking most of his weight onto her, and drag her off to their rooms in the back.
"You're going to give people the wrong idea," she muttered as he leaned into her and cocked his head to rest on hers.
He muttered an incoherent reply.
She had to stop halfway to their rooms to wrap an arm around his back so she could bear his weight. She could probably drop him in the hall and let him sleep there, but she decided it was best if she got him into his own bed. If he woke up later, or one of his men found him there, he might take notice of her plans sooner than she'd like.
At his room, she let him fall into bed and let out a long sigh of relief when he proceeded to snore loudly. He was face down, and his legs hung over the side, but there was no way she was putting in the effort to make him more comfortable. He was lucky she got him that far.
Back in her room, she sat on her bed, listening to him snore on for a short while before she was certain he wouldn't rouse any time soon. She grabbed her cloak, tucked her axe in her belt, and checked that her small knife was hidden in her purse, along with the pieces of silver she won earlier. She stopped to listen for Kid's snoring one last time, and when she heard the deep rattling breath, she crept over the furs on her floor until she reached the escape hatch in the back wall.
She was grateful he had thought to add that to her room, and not just because she wanted to escape from his hall that night while she had the chance. If she had decided to stay, and not try to prevent Kid's gruesome death, the hatch would have been one more feature to let her feel safe in his hall, just in case Arlong or one of his allies happened upon Drafn.
For now, though, she was going to put it to use and slip out in the middle of the night while her would be protector slept in his drunken stupor.
She twisted the peg locking the door in place and took care in letting the door drop open as quietly as possible. A hinge squeaked despite her effort, and she held her breath while listening to Kid snort. She heard him shift in his bed with a loud groan, and then he was snoring again. She sighed in relief and eased her head outside to take a peek around.
She saw no one to left. The right was clear. She even swept her gaze beneath the hatch to check for any of the revelers from the party who might have fallen asleep out there. Even the trees up ahead showed no signs of life as they swayed in the breeze.
She began to ease herself out on her stomach, carefully holding to the edge of the hole to keep steady. There were only a few feet between her and the ground, but if she fell, she might alert a guard with the noise.
Breath held again, she was halfway out when she heard a foot crunch to her right. She froze and snapped her gaze to the corner of the house and the figure that hadn't been there when she first looked. Despair sank into her gut when she saw Killer lean against the side of the house, his long blond hair easily giving him away in the dark. He looked calm and relaxed as he rested his hand on the hilt of his curved seax, his head tilted back as if he was just taking in the stars.
She let out her breath in a quiet whimper.
"Is everything alright, Lady Nami?" he asked, his tone overly polite. He didn't look directly at her, but she could still feel his gaze on her.
She forced a smile. "I was just feeling a little dizzy from all the ale. I wanted a bit of fresh air, but didn't want to disturb the others sleeping out in the hall."
Killer hummed as he turned to approach her. "If you wish, I'd be happy to accompany you for an evening stroll," he said, and she caught the faintest curve of a smirk in the dim light provided by a waning moon.
Nami gave him a sweet, feminine giggle, feigning a demure sigh. "That's kind of you, but I think I'll be all right on my own."
He hummed again as he stood in front of her. He didn't say anything, but considering he hadn't turned away, and the stiffness of his posture, she knew he wasn't about to leave her to herself.
She sighed heavily. "Kid ordered you to guard the hatch out of my room in case I tried to leave. Didn't he?"
He coupled his nod with a grunt, and she sighed again.
"Stubborn, perceptive bastard," she muttered under her breath, and then froze when she felt the floorboards beneath her shake with heavy steps.
"What did you just call me?" Kid's deep voice echoed from behind her. He didn't sound drunk or exhausted in the least. Had he feigned his inebriation? Just as she had?
Bastard, she hissed to herself again.
She shrieked when she felt him grip her by the ankle and slide her back into the room. Flipping to her back, she kicked and flailed as he dragged her toward the bed.
"Unhand me, you brute!" she cried out, grabbing the furs littered over the floor in a futile attempt to stop.
He grunted and released her. She didn't have a chance to relax or even think to make another escape before he straddled her stomach, weighing her down with ease. She lashed out with her nails, intent on scratching him wherever she could reach, but he grappled for her wrists and won out with his larger, stronger hands.
"Get off of me," she screamed. Maybe if she yelled loud enough, someone would come investigate, though she didn't know if anyone would stop Kid. He was in charge. He was the jarl. He had every advantage that she didn't. Her struggles lost their intensity as she swallowed a sob. "Bastard," she insulted again, her voice cracking with her strained emotion. "Just let me go."
"No," he grunted, and that was when she noticed the rope he wound around her wrists.
"You're actually tying me up?" she shrieked.
"You left me no choice," he muttered.
"You could have just let me leave like I wished!"
"No," he repeated. "You'll get yourself killed, and I don't want that weighing on my conscience."
"As if you even have a conscience," she muttered, turning her head to the side as she fell limp, submitting to him.
He stilled for a moment, but quickly returned to his task as he knotted the rope tight.
Once he felt she was secure, he slipped her axe from her belt, along with her purse, and unfastened her cloak. He then picked himself up and hauled her with him before tossing her onto the bed in the corner. She immediately tried to get up, stubbornly refusing to give in too easily, but Kid's arm caught her by the waist and he shoved her back into the furs and wool blankets.
"I'll tie your legs, too, woman," he threatened gruffly.
She growled up at him as he hovered over her with a dark glare. He stood straight, his arms crossed over his chest, and stared her down until she slumped into her pillows.
"I hate you," she mumbled.
"I don't care," he shot back, and then caught her by surprise as he kneeled on her bed.
"What are you doing?" she asked frantically, kicking at the large man as he maneuvered so that he could sit with his back against the wall on the other side of the bed, and draped his legs over her, pinning her down. "Get out of my bed!"
"No," he grunted, settling in as he crossed his arms over his chest once more and leaned his head back against the wall. "Now go to sleep."
"I can't sleep like this!"
"Not my problem. You should have thought of that before trying to sneak off."
She tried to kick his legs off while grumbling a string of profane curses, all directed at him. Kid didn't budge, and the quiet snort he gave said he heard the colorful language she used.
"I won't run again, Kid," she whined. "You don't have to stay in here… and you can untie me."
"Not going to risk it," he said. "Just shut up and go to sleep."
She slammed her head into her pillows with an exaggerated groan. "At least untie me." She held her hands up when she noticed him staring at her from the corner of a single open eye. "Please," she whimpered. "They're too tight."
Kid's jaw ticked with irritation, but after a bit of thought, he let out a sigh and took out the small knife he still had in his belt to cut the rope away.
"Thank you," she huffed while rubbing her sore wrists. The skin was chafed and red, and she had no doubt that she'd have bruises the next day. He didn't have to be so rough.
Kid grunted and sank back against the wall, still stubbornly insistent on staying as a bedside guard. Or more like an in-bed guard.
"You're going to give a lot of people the wrong impression," she grumbled.
"Huh?" He pried open an eye again to glare in confusion.
"Your lie about why I'm here is sure to get plenty of people talking. Usually there's only one reason a man would send his only daughter to live with a single, unmarried man of high standing. And now you're trying to share my bed. If someone came in here to find you like this, everyone will make assumptions about us," she explained.
Kid shrugged and shut his eye. "So? Let them assume whatever they want. Better than having rumor get out that you're from a clan of seers that's supposed to be long dead, and that you're hiding from a jarl who thinks himself a giant and son of Aegir."
"But…"
"I said, let them talk. I don't have any problem with them thinking I'm trying to bed you or whatever they come up with."
"You might not, but I certainly do," she hissed.
He wore a tight lipped frown as his brows furrowed. After a minute, he sighed and shuffled further down on the wall, crossed his legs, and let his feet hang off the bed on the other side, pointedly making himself more comfortable.
"Still better than the alternative, in my opinion."
"You're just being stubborn," she huffed.
"Might be, but it's too late to change the story."
"But we can at least keep people from getting any sort of fodder to encourage their gossip," she pointed out with a sharp smack to his leg. "Get out of my bed."
"If I leave, you'll just run."
"I won't run," she sighed.
"You said that before."
"I mean it this time."
"Don't believe you," he grunted. "Just go to sleep, woman."
"I can't," she groaned.
Kid hummed in thought. "I can try to think up a good bedtime story if it'll help."
She shot him a glare only to find him staring at her again, his lips curved up in a teasing smirk.
"Stubborn ass," she hissed.
"That a yes to the story, or…?"
She sighed and did her best to get comfortable as she turned her back to him. "I give up."
"Smart woman," he chuckled. "Though you could have saved yourself a lot of trouble if you had just gone to bed like you were supposed to. And if you think about pulling this stunt again, I'll tear the drapes down and you can share the whole room with me. That'll have everyone talking."
She growled, but had no quick argument against that threat. In fact, it was better than being tied down to the bed, even if she would lose the semblance of privacy he had given her.
"Or I could just tie you up again," he said with another quiet chuckle.
She let out another low growl as she awkwardly pulled her blankets over her, thinking to use them as a meager barrier between them. His legs made the task of getting comfortable that much harder, but she knew he wouldn't move them again, no matter how much she argued. He was set on keeping her there for the rest of the night.
"I really hate you," she whispered quietly.
Kid didn't respond at first and the room fell into a heavy silence. She thought he had dozed off, but then she felt him shift as he yanked an extra fur blanket off the bench at the end of the bed and draped it over his legs.
"You don't mean that," he finally said. "If you did, you wouldn't care one whit what happened to me."
She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to refute him. She wished she could hate him, though. But he was making it too hard to even remain indifferent.
She felt him lean over her to blow out the small candles still flickering beside her bed, and then he settled back into his spot for the night.
She could hear the breeze rustle the trees outside. The wind carried in through the open hatch to flutter against the tapestry. She swore she heard the faint crunch of Killer's shoes in the dirt as he continued to guard her room, even knowing his jarl had secured her in bed. The night was peaceful, otherwise, and she knew she was safe and secure in that hall with Kid and his men watching over her.
A pack of wolves ready to bare their ferocious, hungry teeth at the first threat to appear before her.
As she listened to Kid's breathing slowly even out, she wondered if it was possible. If her ancestor's prophecy had been true.
Could she change what has already been woven? Could she truly alter the fate she had already foreseen?
For the sake of the man sleeping beside her, she prayed that she could.
A/N: So my only note on this chapter is about the title. You'll notice I make a lot of references to weaving, both in the stories and titles, and that's because weaving was a major aspect in Old Norse society according to the sagas, and is connected to magic (such as the Norns/ Fates who weave a person's destiny). Obviously thread throughout cultures has a lot of symbolism in terms of fate (red string), and this culture was no different. With the title, a selvedge (or selvage) is the edge produced on either side of the fabric to prevent unraveling/fraying.
I thought it fitting for the title of this chapter since it was heavily focused on building an early bond and friendship between Kid and Nami, in essence producing the initial selvedge to the fate their weaving. I am trying to be poetic and symbolic in my chapter titles.
Also, everyone enjoying this fic can now thank Eileithyia-ya for turning me onto the band Amorphis. Honestly, you would think I had been listening to them long before I started this fic, but nope, didn't know about them until a few weeks ago. The tone and imagery of their songs fit freakishly well with this fic. Also I bet Kid would be a mega-huge fan. Lyrics and style suit him perfectly. So everyone go listen to them. I personally like 'Sacrifice' and 'Come the Spring', which Eileithyia pointed to first, as well as 'Silver Bride' and 'Course of Fate' in terms of fitting generally to the tone, imagery, and emotions of this fic. I didn't have a chance to add them to my 8tracks playlist before I made it, though. Sadly. But they fit well with the other music I'm listening to for this story.
And I should probably mention here, in case some of you missed my posted on tumblr, my updates might be coming slower for a while. My neck and shoulders have been causing me more problems lately, and it hurts a lot to sit at my computer for extended periods of time. Between that and my job as a dental assistant, my upper back and neck are totally fucked. I also got off my usual schedule for massage therapy sessions, but my boss paid for two sessions, so I'm getting back on track with it now. But, in the meantime, I'm going to be doing my best to avoid stressing my muscles out. They're feeling a little better after my last massage, but still need to go back in in a few weeks to loosen the last knots he couldn't get. I can feel them tightening up and aching the longer I sit at a computer or with a patient, so I really am trying to avoid ruining all the work he put into my back and leaving myself in massive amounts of pain. I usually do a lot of my writing on the weekend if I'm motivated enough, but I'm going to start taking weekends off as much as possible to let my muscles relax. That means I'll only be squeezing writing time in during the work week, which can be more sporadic because focusing my attention is a lot harder when I write at the office during down time, and I lack a lot of motivation when I get done. I'll do my best to keep my schedule as regular as possible (at least for my KidNa fics since I still have a block for everything else), but I'm not going to push myself as much as I normally do.
Anyway, your reviews are very much appreciated! Glad you guys are enjoying this fic.