Amber Curse

by TSValing

In a time of gods and giants, there was no escaping the fate woven by the Norns. A young woman with a mysterious heritage flees an oppressive Jarl, only to find herself in the possession of another. But is the Berserker truly as cruel as the man she's hiding from? Rated for violence, gore, and sexual content. Kid x Nami. One-sided Arlong x Nami.

23. Chapter 23

Warning: Explicit sexual content, mentions of violence/ gore.

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda.

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The Second Choice

Kid's temper was on razor's edge as he stood on his dock, arms folded over his chest as he glared at the Frankish ship creeping toward his village. He had been in such a great mood, too. His woman was happy, lavishing him with affection and encouraging his own as she sat on his lap. All was right in the world so long as she kept smiling and laughing and praising him for the gifts he gave her. But a single ship was all it took to take that away and skew the world back to the dark place he knew all too well.

Seeing the look of abject terror in Nami's eyes set his anger to a boil in his gut. She tried to hide it behind an icy visage, but the hand he pressed to her back felt the tremors quaking through her frame, and her stark white pallor gave her fragile emotional state away. In that moment, she had been frozen with fear. It had taken a hard shove to get her to snap from her stupor and flee into the safety of his hall. As he watched her run toward her room, head bowed and trembling hands clinging to the boar he made her, he knew that fear wouldn't still her for long.

She was going to run, just as she tried to do her first night in his hall. No matter how much he swore she was not a coward, he knew her well enough by then to know that her first instinct in the face of a great danger was to run. He was sure that she feared her giant's wrath coming down on the village more than she feared her own capture. Even if her own freedom was at the forefront of her mind, she was far too caring to ignore the potential suffering her existence there could cause others. She would run hoping to spare them all. She would rather face a harsh reality alone than see anyone else die because of her.

She was stronger than she knew, albeit too stubborn to realize it wouldn't hurt to rely on him when fighting alone wasn't enough.

Once Nami was safe in her room—for as long as she remained there—he began hollering out orders to his men. They had been prepared for this day when he first decided to give Nami asylum, but he reminded them of their duties, regardless. Gunda would keep an eye on Nami's room while playing her role as servant, hopefully easing her lady's anxiety and keep her safely tucked away. Knowing that Nami would inevitably slip away, he tasked a handful of his men to roam the village and the perimeter of his hall to keep an eye on her movements. The men he sent out to do sweeps of the village were also ordered to remind the villagers that Nami did not exist. Under no circumstances were they to utter her name or speak of the woman with amber hair that came to them only months before.

He had passed around an epithet of a sort that he felt appropriate for the woman, no matter how much Nami despised it. Ketta, the name a great she-cat, a giantess in her own right and fearsome mother of a monster. While she liked his endearment of Kitten, she was entirely unamused with the name his men and the villagers were to use in the company of strangers. She wasn't a monster, she wasn't a giant, but he reminded her that she was as fierce as one when she was angry, something she only proved when she kicked him out of his chair and stormed off in a huff to rant and rave about him to whoever would listen, as she was wont to do. Despite her hatred of the name, it was the one he settled on and his word was law, so his people would refer to her as Ketta when the situation required it.

Not only had she been given a different name, but he had seen fit to giving her family within the village. Hróarr would play the part of loving, protective father to the wild cat residing in their village. No one would scrutinize the identity of an unseen woman if they believed her to be a resident's daughter. They were looking for a woman without family, without connection, new to the region and speaking a svear dialect. As long as they didn't lay eyes on her or hear her speak, they would surely dismiss her and scurry on their way to the next village.

He had originally thought to kill them all and be done with it, but Killer had talked some sense into him. It would be wiser to play innocent. If they killed this envoy, it would not end anything. There would be another envoy, and another, all asking questions before he tossed them in another unmarked burial mound. Eventually Arlong would catch on when none of his people returned and follow the trail until it ended in Drafn. He didn't care about going to war and killing the slew of giants that came for Nami, it was what he had sworn to do, but he wanted a chance to survive and he wanted to enjoy whatever time he had with Nami before fate caught up with them. If this battle was to shape a new future, then he needed to approach it with care, to plan for a war that could be his last, all to ensure that if he died, he took her fears with him.

Kid chained up his ire as he watched the men on the ship hail him before tossing rope to Wire so he could secure them. The ship appeared to be a trading vessel, a merchant ship of the design the Normans used, passed down from their Norse ancestors that were given the lands and title they held in Francia. It resembled their ships, though lacked the vicious serpent's head the Norse favored for the prow of the ship, its decoration and detailing taken from Christian and Frankish tradition, rather than their ancestry. It was crewed by Franks and Normans, the latter he recognized by the furs that trimmed their collars and the taller heights they reached compared to their Frankish counterparts. His gaze flit over every face, memorizing them, sizing them up for a kill should he need to. He narrowed his eyes on a smug face with twitchy whiskers that made his anger claw at his chest, begging to be released just long enough to smash the man's face in. He sat in a chair with a canopy of silk above his head, as if he were some rich prince. His haughty expression only added to the appearance.

Kid changed his mind about punching the man as he assessed him. No, a punch was too quick and easy. He wanted to chain him to that chair and light his damn boat on fire, then stand back and revel in his pained screams as he died a slow, agonizing death. It was so tempting, he couldn't restrain his grin as he considered it. Killer smacked him upside the head as soon as he noticed the murderous look he wore, snapping him back to reality.

"Hello," the Frankish man greeted as he picked his way through his men to climb onto the dock. "I apologize for the intrusion."

His Norse was rough, but understandable, highlighted by a Frankish accent. The snide, sarcastic lilt in his tone made Kid scowl as he balled his hands into fists and straightened his back to his full height. The Frank was shorter than him, slender and scrawny compared to Kid's men, as well as his own. He could break the bastard in half as effortlessly as he snapped a twig.

"What brings a Frankish ship to my territory?" Kid asked with a low growl seeping into his voice. He refused to be welcoming to a man who struck his woman with terror unlike any he had seen before, even her visions rarely left her looking so fearful.

The man before him balked at the cold greeting, but forced a nervous smile as he came to stand before him. "I am Nezumi," he introduced, holding a hand out to shake as though they were old friends. Kid glared at the extended hand until he slowly retracted it with a snickering, wary laugh. "I'm a merchant on my way to Oslofjord, but we ran into a rough patch in the straits. We struck a shallow rocky reef and began to take on water."

Kid glanced behind him to the ship that he claimed to be damaged, yet still it sailed through the Skagerrak and the fjord leading to Drafn. He could have easily made it further into Oslofjord if his ship wasn't too damaged to trek up his fjord. Then again, a Frankish ship heading to Oslofjord was inviting trouble. He would want to see that any damages were repaired before facing the man residing there, just in case he had to make a swift retreat.

"Why Oslofjord?" he asked, setting his gaze back on Nezumi. "I don't know how much you Franks have heard, but the bastard calling himself king there ain't very nice to your like. You're courting suicide if you think to trade with him."

Nezumi let out an irritating titter of laughter that gave away his nervousness. "Yes, I'm well aware, but I must meet with the king, no matter the risks. It is a vital, urgent errand I've been sent on."

Kid's brow rose, but he forced himself to relax. This man was not here to search for Nami. He could assume that Nezumi was going to the bastard king in Oslofjord for purposes related to her, but so long as this errand took him in a direction away from their village, he wouldn't interfere. Suspicions still nagged him over his story, but he would remain patient until the Franks left.

"Then we better see to your ship fast so you can be on your way," Kid said, turning to lead the way to his hall. He would play host to this man, ply him for information, and then kick his ass back out to sea and far away from Nami. "I'll spare a few of my men to help with your repairs. I don't have much space to house you all, but I can make room for you in the barn for the night. You'll need the rest if you face that king."

"I appreciate the hospitality…" Nezumi trailed off his sneering tone expectantly.

"Jarl Eustass," Kid grunted in answer to his unspoken question, refusing to let the shitty tone irk him too much.

Upon entering the hall, Sind tackled Kid's leg, clinging to him as he stared warily at the newcomers. He didn't miss the glare the boy sent Nezumi. He must have seen Nami's fearful reaction and wisely associated her behavior with their unexpected guests. Kid dragged the boy with him toward his chair while Killer offered Nezumi and his men seats at one of the tables, urging them to rest while one of the servants fetched ale and a meager meal for them.

"Your boy?" Nezumi asked as Kid shoved Sind from his leg so he could sit.

"No," he answered gruffly while turning to Sind who remained beside him, clinging to the arm of his chair. He had a habit of following him around like a lost pup unless Nami had need of him or he made Killer take him. Normally the habit was amusing, though easily ignored when he didn't want the boy nipping at his heels around the village. With the guests in their hall, though, the habit could prove dangerous considering his wavering ability to understand the language. He forced Sind to let go of his chair and pushed him toward the bedrooms. "Go see to Ketta," he ordered in English, something not lost on Nezumi as he watch Kid lightly smack the boy on the side of the head when he didn't immediately obey.

"A Saxon," Nezumi said once Sind ran off to the back, sparing one last glare over his shoulder to the threat allowed within the safety of their hall. He was at least smart enough to recognize these men for what they were. "I've never seen a slave child so attached to a master."

"He's not a slave," Kid said, tone low with a warning. He would not have that boy mistreated, least of all by the scum in front of him. "We just returned from Britain a few days ago. He was an orphan in the care of the church. The boy's father was a Northman, and his mother had died in childbirth. He asked to return with us and I agreed to take him in."

"Such a noble gesture, adopting a child from another land," Nezumi remarked with that tittering laugh.

Killer handed him a cup of ale, giving his fist something to hold and hopefully distract him from the growing need to slam his fist into this man's buck teeth. The bastard seemed to be mocking him with his very existence, and he didn't like the gleam in his beady little eyes. He was not a man to be trusted in anything.

"Speaking of adopted," Nezumi said suddenly, sitting straight on his bench. "I suppose while I'm here it wouldn't hurt to ask you a few things."

Kid's brow rose as he lounged back in his chair. He forced his posture to remain relaxed and casual, fighting the instinct to sit rigid and ready to kill every outsider within his hall. A stiff posture would only give away that he had something to hide.

"What?" he grunted, urging the man to get his questions out.

"The reason I'm going to Oslofjord is for a woman taken in as a ward to a jarl in Svealand," Nezumi explained. "They had a… disagreement and the young woman took off in the night."

Kid hid a snort of laughter in his cup, swallowing down ale that tasted bitter on his tongue at the vague reason for Nami's escape. Disagreement, my ass, he thought to himself. "And? What does this woman have to do with you? Or the king in Oslofjord, for that matter?"

Nezumi's smile was thin and strained. "I am doing a favor for an old friend. He wishes to remain in Tingstad in the hopes she returns on her own, but with every passing week, he has begun to fear the worst. He is certain she didn't drown in the straits, despite my insistence that she likely did. He has it in his mind that she fled north, possibly to this king. I have agreed to visit him as an envoy to see if she is there, but perhaps it wouldn't hurt to ask if you've seen this woman in the region? She might have passed this way on her journey northward."

"What does she look like?" Kid forced himself to ask, biting back a low growl as irritation coiled in him.

"She's a woman of eighteen years… nineteen shortly after midsummer, with amber hair as vibrant as the stone itself," Nezumi describe. "She might have been wearing a cloak trimmed with lynx fur."

Kid scratched his chin, grumbling to himself as though mulling over the description. "I saw a woman with amber hair, but it was a few days south," he said, choosing his words carefully. "She was injured, sick with a fever, and half-starved. My cousin and I offered her shelter here after tending to her wound, but she refused, insisted that she could make her own way."

Nezumi snorted. "That sounds very much like the woman I'm searching for. Did she say which way she was going?"

"Just as your friend suggested—north. But, she never said Oslofjord and vanished before we could offer passage to her." Kid let a growl seep out. "The ungrateful witch stole from my pack before she left, too. I asked the gods to push the bitch off a cliff for me, but if she's gone to the king in Oslofjord, she's likely facing a far worse existence than any punishment they or I could dole out," he spat out, clinging to the contempt he felt for the man before him to convey the anger he needed to.

Nezumi hummed. "It is unfortunate you weren't able to secure her here." He looked around the hall, grimacing with obvious disgust at his surroundings. "Jarl Arlong has spared some of his treasure for me to offer as a reward to whoever has his ward. You could have made yourself rich ransoming her."

Kid's eyes narrowed on Nezumi. "I am rich."

The Frank tittered with laughter. "If you say so."

His fingers dug into the arm of his chair until a solid hand clasped onto his shoulder to soothe his sparked temper. He forced himself to take a deep, steadying breath, and relaxed in his chair once more. Movement in the shadows toward the back hall leading to the bedrooms signaled that Geir was there, watching them as he always did when strangers entered his hall. His face was a stony mask, his hand set at the grip of his sword, ready for bloodshed. Kid subtly waved for him to stand down.

The king Nezumi meant to visit would see that his demise was brutal enough. Let Enel deal with the rat problem and dump the bodies with Arlong for him. It would delay his own war and possibly thin the giant's army. They had a better chance at victory if Arlong's forces were stretched thin.

"What's so important about this woman that this Jarl… Arlong?" He feigned ignorance before waving off the name as unimportant. "Why's he willing to pay so much for her return?"

Nezumi cleared his throat and Kid knew whatever he had to spew would be nothing more than lies. "She's a most beloved ward. Her mother died when she was a child. He's been caring for her since."

He carefully swallowed his anger at the way Nezumi worded his response. So it wasn't all lies, there was a shred of truth there. If Kid didn't know the real story, he wouldn't have questioned Nezumi's. "Yet she ran away."

"A bout of melodrama," Nezumi excused. "She's still young, filled with fiery emotion and unnecessary offense. It was a misunderstanding, nothing she should have gotten so upset over. But I'm sure you know how women can be."

Kid decided that shattering the bastard's teeth wasn't good enough, nor was burning him alive on his ship. He truly hoped Enel tortured him before killing him. If he didn't, then Kid would take him captive and make him scream for insulting Nami's struggles. Killer's hand tightened on his shoulder, reminding him that he needed to remain calm. He gave Nezumi another grunt, a short nod of understanding.

"And why do you care what happens to this girl? She important to you?" Kid asked.

Nezumi snickered. "Not really, but her importance to Arlong makes her important to me. She has family in Francia that might prove to be of benefit to me, but that is something we must wait to see."

Kid wondered if he would ever find out just how Arlong intended to use Nami against her father's family. He had some suspicions, but he would rather not think on them. They sparked anger and possessiveness that he could do nothing about, not until he learned the truth of Arlong's interest in the woman.

"If I come across her again, I'll do my best to hold her here," Kid said with a forced smile. "Just tell me where to send word of her, and I'll see that this Arlong has his ward back in his hall. Barring he's still willing to pay a ransom for her. If not, I might just keep her to dole out the punishment she deserves for her thievery."

"So long as she is returned alive and whole, in every way, then I'm sure Arlong will overlook a few scratches and bruises," Nezumi said. The snide apathy he had for Nami made Kid's teeth itch. He managed to hold his anger in, save for the tight clenching of his jaw. "Send word to Tingstad, on the southwest coast in Götaland, just at the entrance to the Kattegat."

Kid decided he had learned enough. If he asked any more questions about Nami, he was liable to give in to his rage and murder each and every one of Nezumi's men. He needed to keep them moving in the wrong direction, make them think he had nothing to hide. His anger on her behalf would only serve to give them away.

He sank back in his chair and guzzled the last of his ale, waving for his servants and men to take care of their guests. He would entertain them for the night, help repair their ship, assuming it was damaged at all, and then bid them good riddance. Nami might have to hide in her room for a day or two, or perhaps he would be better served hiding her at Heat's. His healer could keep an eye on her and prevent her from running. He would discuss that with her later, once he sent the Frankish men to bed down in the barn.

That is if she stayed put like he told her to.

With every hour that passed without any sign that Nami fled, Kid let himself relax in his chair and enjoy the songs Halle performed for the Franks. He did his best to ignore Nezumi's existence, talking as sparingly as he could to the man while Killer stayed at his side to hold him back should his temper take hold of his reason. He glanced out the front door to see that the hour was growing late, though the sun would not fully set for hours more. The approaching summer season meant they had a lengthy twilight where the sky remained lit while the sun hid just over the horizon.

He saw Gunda slip into the room to gather supper for Nami. His brows furrowed when he noticed Sind sneaking in behind her, but brushed off his suspicions when he merely helped the woman carry an extra cup of ale while Geir did his best to hide their presence from the guests. If Nezumi noticed them creeping around, he would likely question who the meal was for. When the pair vanished back into the bedroom without rousing suspicions, Kid eased into his chair once more, brushing off his worries.

But it was only a minute later that Sind came running back out, weaving through the tables until he reached Kid. A knot formed in his gut as Sind tugged at his sleeve with a panicked look on his face.

"What?" he grunted.

"Ke- Ketta gone," he whispered.

Kid's gaze snapped up to see Gunda hovering near the back wearing an apologetic grimace. "Shit," he hissed. He stood from his chair and shoved the boy toward Gunda. "Stay with her," he ordered sharply. He wasn't angry with them, though he was annoyed that they had dropped their guard so easily. But he had been lowering his own guard, so he couldn't hold that against them, either. And Nami was a cunning woman. She could slip from anyone's guard unless they chained her up, something he sorely wished he had done.

"Ketta?" Nezumi asked, just as Kid turned for the door to hunt her down himself. "Are you keeping someone important hidden here?"

Kid sneered at the gleam in Nezumi's eyes, as though he had just caught them harboring the very woman they searched for. They had, but Kid wasn't about to let him know that.

He surreptitiously glanced around his hall, glad that Hróarr wasn't there. That would work to his advantage. When he decided that it was safe, he approached Nezumi and leaned down to whisper in his ear. "One of my men's daughter. I sent him on a lengthy errand so that I could enjoy her company without him breathing down my neck or taking his axe to my skull." He pulled back to let Nezumi see his lecherous grin and wink. "If I've been anything less than warm to you, it's because you interrupted my time with her. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to find her and steal some affection before her father returns."

Nezumi chuckled. "Ah, I suppose that would irritate any man." He waved for Kid to leave. "Please, enjoy your evening. I'm sure your household can see to my accommodations for you."

Kid's grin widened with relief before he spun on his heel to stalk out of the hall. His grin fell into a scowl once he thought the Franks couldn't see it, just as he met Killer at the door to wrap an arm around his shoulders. Drawing him in close, he hissed, "Watch them," in his cousin's ear and then shoved him away to hunt Nami down.

He hoped that he hadn't wasted too much time. Every second counted with that woman when she was running scared.

"Jarl Kid," Wire called to him as Kid headed toward the rear of his hall, hoping to track her from the escape hatch in her room. He spun to growl at Wire. He didn't have time for whatever Wire had to say, but then he saw him point toward the stables. "The cat's spooking the horses," he said cryptically, taking care not to alert the two Norman soldiers walking back to the hall from the docks with him.

That was a lucky break. She must have hoped to wait for he and his men to scatter in search of her, leaving the stable free to steal a horse and put even more distance between her and Drafn.

He nodded his thanks to Wire and sprinted toward the stables. He spotted her trying to saddle a horse while remaining hidden behind the wall of the mare's stall. She was bundled up in her cloak, as well as another dark brown cloak with a deep hood that hid her face in shadow. He tried to sneak up on her, but his steps ground over the straw noisily and alerted Nami to his presence.

She jumped at the sound. She nearly shrieked in alarm when she saw him, but he shot forward to clamp his hand over her mouth, leveling her with a stern glare.

"Woman," he hissed, "I told you to stay in your room."

Her eyes narrowed on him and her throat rumbled with a growl as she clawed at his hand. He released her mouth, but stepped closer, blocking her in against a support post and hiding her from anyone nearby with his larger frame.

"I can't stay here," she whispered harshly. "If he's sent Nezumi to search for me, then it's only a matter of time before he finds me."

"He's going to Oslofjord to search for you. He's only here to repair his ship," he ground out. "I already told him that I saw you to the south months ago, that you were sick with a fever and injured, but refused my help. I made sure to tell him that you mentioned something about going north before you ran off on your own."

"If he goes to Oslo and sees I'm not there, he'll only return to question you further," she insisted. "Oslo isn't far, and you've already stated that you've seen me. He'll come back and try to interrogate you into giving him more information."

"I doubt he'll be able to escape the king there, let alone return here to question me," Kid huffed. "The man ruling over the fjord makes me look kind by comparison. And that's to his own people. He's far worse to Christians. They won't survive a visit with him."

Nami pursed her lips, her eyes trembled as she glanced around him. She looked so small and helpless as she shivered with fear. He hated that his reassurance wasn't enough to quell her anxiety. He grabbed her shoulder, hoping to drag her into his arms to soothe her worries, but she pushed him back and squirmed uncomfortably.

"I'd be happy to kill them if you think that would be for the best," he suggested. "I've been on the verge of slitting his throat, anyway."

Nami shook her head, casting her gaze downward as another shiver passed through her. "It doesn't matter if you kill him here, or if he dies in Oslofjord. He's the harbinger of the storm."

"What?" he grunted, drawing her closer so he could hear her soft voice.

"He's the rat," she said, as though it explained everything.

"What rat?"

She looked up at him with a huff. "My last vision. A ship of rats came first. He is the rat."

Kid scowled. "I won't argue that he's a rat, but are you sure?"

"Yes," she bit out. "I had the vision again last night. The rats weren't on the ship anymore, they were on land. I am certain that he's the rat. If I stay, it'll bring the storm down on the village. I can't put you all in danger."

He groaned, rolling his eyes at her obstinacy. "Woman, I brought you under my protection with the full understanding that a war would come of it. I'm not worried about the danger. I'll kill everyone who tries to take you, regardless."

"But Kid," she began to argue, but he was done listening to her excuse.

"But nothing," he growled, snatching a length of rope hanging on a peg beside them. Before she knew what he meant to do, he began to wind the rope around her wrists, holding tight when she began to struggle.

"Kid, what are you—" He cut her off with a hard, frustrated kiss. He wouldn't let her fight with him on this. He wouldn't let her leave. She squealed against his lips and kicked at his legs. When he didn't move back and barely grunted when her foot struck his shin, she bit down hard on him, forcing him to back away with a hiss, but her hands were bound tight. "Untie me," she demanded.

"No," he grunted while tearing off a strip from the ratty, hooded cloak she wore over her finer one.

"Kid," she snapped.

"Shut up, woman," he hissed before shoving the cloth into her mouth. She shrieked around the strip as he reached into her hood to tie it behind her head. He barely dodged a strike aiming between his legs and pressed his hips into her to pin her in place. "Keep fighting me and you're going to get us both caught," he growled.

She muttered something behind her gag. He guessed it was a string of curses, likely a number of threats she would make good on once he freed her. Her glare alone told him he was in for a world of misery that night, but he didn't care, he couldn't let her run away.

He held tight to her arm as he checked that the mare's saddle was secure, then tossed Nami onto the horse's back, ignoring her groan when he dropped her onto her stomach to lay sideways. She kicked and lashed out with her legs. He wasn't sure if she was trying to slip off the horse or strike him, either way it was annoying and he smacked her backside to still her. She let out another muffled shriek and aimed a kick at his head.

"Stop fighting," he huffed as he blocked her kick. "I'll tie your legs if you keep struggling."

The threat made her give up with a long groan and another string of curses. With Nami still, he led the horse out of the stable, keeping a wary eye on the front of his hall. He saw his man Ove standing on the porch, laughing with one of the Frankish men. He waited until Ove cast a glance his way before waving to signal for a distraction. Ove didn't signal back, but he quickly turned the guest away, pointing off toward the woods in the opposite direction while loudly proclaiming that he just saw a large buck move between the trees.

Kid slipped out of the stables, Nami still secure on the back of the horse. When he was clear, he pulled himself into the saddle and helped get Nami into a more comfortable position in his lap. She was quiet as he eased the horse into a gentle canter and he peeked down at her to see her staring at him with watery eyes that made his heart twist with guilt. He brushed away his conscience before he could give in to it. He wouldn't have had to tie her up and handle her so roughly if she had just trusted him.

He steered them through the dirt paths between houses, aiming for the river while keeping a watchful eye on the village around him. Near the far edge of the village he spotted Hróarr in the middle of his patrol and waved him over. The older man glowered when he noticed the woman in his lap, but he ignored the silent rebuke as he leaned down to speak with him.

"I need you to brag about your daughter tonight," he said. "I told that bastard that I sent you on a long errand so I could enjoy your daughter. So, when you go to the hall, pretend to get drunk and start praising your beautiful girl and all the high hopes you have for her. Make a big show of your love for her, then pass out for the night. In the morning, you're going to go home and find us in bed together. I give you full permission to strike me so we can sell this ruse with a black eye."

"And what bed will you be staying in?" Hróarr asked, sparing a pitying glance toward Nami when she huffed in annoyance.

"My old home," Kid grumbled. "I thought to leave her with Heat, but she's got a bug up her ass about running away. She'll con him into leaving her alone long enough to run again."

Hróarr sighed, but agreed to the plan with a nod. "I'll come just after dawn." He glared, then nudged his head toward Nami. "I doubt I'll have to strike you. Lady Nami looks prepared to beat some sense into you herself."

Kid let out a short laugh as he kicked the horse to trot out of the village. He could feel her heated glare boring into his skull, he didn't need to look down and see it for himself. He still stole a quick look once they were in the thick of the woods along the riverbank and chuckled at her seething glare.

"You're cute when you don't get your way," he remarked, hoping to placate her with a teasing grin. Her lip curled with a sneer and she looked away with another ill-tempered huff. She muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "I hate you," so he squeezed her tight against his chest and leaned down to press a kiss to her temple. "No, you don't," he whispered, hoping that he was right. He doubted she could come to hate him all because he bound her with rope… again. The gag might be a bit much. While he would enjoy kissing her into silence the whole time, it was difficult to ride a horse that way, so he was left with no other option but to gag her to keep her quiet.

He kicked his horse to speed up to a canter, winding them through dense, shadowy forest. They passed the clearing used as his shipyard and turned up the hill to take them into the woods further from the river. Nami shifted in his arms to peer around the area she had yet to see, curious of where he was taking her.

The sky grew a shade darker once he broke into another clearing with a stream running through a deeper basin that was cut from the heavier spring thaws. Most of the year it was just a trickle of water, frozen solid during the winter and nearly dried out in the summer months, but after the recent thaw and the rainy weeks of spring and early summer, it flowed steadily down the sloping hill.

An old bridge curved over the stream, leading to a well-worn path. The wood groaned and creaked under his horse's hooves, and he reminded himself that he needed to come by more often to fix up the property before the next winter.

Nami straightened in his arms when the slender fence of the house came into view. It was a small house with a thatch roof, shaded by an old oak tree that had stood sentry over that clearing since he was born and long before, too. An overhang to one side of the house protected a stack of chopped wood from the elements. A fenced in pen sat at the other side of home where they once kept two goats, and if they were fortunate enough to afford it, a pig. Most of their meat had come from Killer's farm, but they still tried to keep some for themselves so they wouldn't have to rely on their cousins.

He came to a halt at the front door, growling when Nami tried to squirm from his lap. He held her tight as he slid from the saddle and hefted her onto his shoulder while he tied the horse to the fence near a troth of rain water. Nami made the task difficult as she kicked and thrashed, but he managed to restrain her long enough to get inside the house. She didn't stop struggling as he carried her to the back where his old bed sat with ragged blankets and old furs collecting dust and dirt from months of disuse. The space was cramped and he nearly toppled over while trying not to smack his head on a low beam as Nami fought him. But he managed to get her to the back and dumped her onto the bed.

She shot up the moment she found her bearings and attempted to flee. He shoved her back and climbed onto the bed to straddle her, growling at her continued stubbornness. He snatched her bound hands and shoved them over her head to secure the rope on a corner post. She screamed behind her gag when she realized he wasn't freeing her any time soon. He began to pull away once she was tied to the bed, but a kick managed to strike true between his legs, forcing him to curl in on himself as his lungs forgot how to take in air.

"Fucking bitch," he whispered harshly, unable to strengthen his voice as the pain strangled him.

She spat what he assumed was an insult in return, but he couldn't even begin to understand her. All that mattered was that she was still angry and he was in for a long night of suffering her wrath.

He sucked in a strained breath, cupped his abused balls, and eased back onto his knees. She had stopped kicking after that hit, much to his relief, but her glare was as fiery as ever, her angry gaze rimmed by unshed tears. It was so rare for him to feel guilty about anything, but the combination of fear and anger in her eyes brought a pang to his chest. He wouldn't let himself give in to it, though. That was what she wanted. The moment he freed her, she would kick him in the balls again and take off into the night.

"I'll untie you when you calm down," he insisted, then climbed from the bed to gather some wood for a fire.

He left her to groan and mutter her muffled complaints. When he came back in and barred the door shut, Nami still sat in bed. He could see the glint of her eyes in the faint light seeping through the slats of the wall. Once he got a few candles lit, he glanced over to see her silently fuming, but she was still bound to the bed post, so he didn't worry much.

"You should be thanking me," he said as he tossed two pieces of split wood in the old hearth at the center of the main room. She muttered unintelligibly again. "If you had fled, you'd be stumbling around the woods alone again, and likely caught by someone who is willing to sell you back to Arlong. I'm keeping you from doing something you'll regret."

With the first spark of a flame catching the kindling he stuffed beneath the wood, he fanned the flame until it caught the logs and grew. The small home began to warm rapidly with the fire, pushing out the chill and darkness of night. He stood and made his way to Nami after warming his hands, and glowered at her red-rimmed eyes and the tears streaking down her cheeks. She was really set on making him feel guilty.

And of course it was working.

"Damn it," he hissed, warring with the tightness in his chest that urged him to set her free. "If I untie you, do you promise to stay here?"

Her lip quivered around her gag. Her glare turned thoughtful. When she finally nodded, he sighed and kneeled on the bed beside her.

"I did this for your own good," he argued as he pulled out his knife to slice the knot free. It was tighter than he thought, leaving red scratches where the coarse rope chaffed. Another pang of guilt struck him hard in the chest while he unwound the rope. "I can't let you leave."

She snatched her hands away as soon as they were free, and then slapped him hard across the cheek. His head turned with the force and his cheek stung. He deserved it. Nami was angry and upset with him, a complete contrast to how they were only hours earlier. He really wanted to kill Nezumi for fucking things up just by appearing on his shore.

Nami tore her gag off and curled up into the corner of the bed, putting as much distance between them as possible. He glanced at her while rubbing his sore cheek. He hated how much it hurt to see her pull away from him. He wanted to be angry, yell at her for being over dramatic, but it would only make things worse. It wasn't her fault. She was conditioned to fear anyone associated with Arlong, it was only natural she run. And his poor treatment of her warranted her anger toward him.

"Nami," he said, sighing as he tried to think of some way to soothe her. He wouldn't apologize, even if he could admit that he might have gone too far by tying her up. He still knew he was right not to let her leave, and he would never apologize for doing what he felt was best, what he knew would keep her safe.

"Don't," she bit out, her tone thick with grief and anger. She curled her legs to her chest and rubbed her red wrists. That pang in his chest intensified and made the lingering sting of her slap feel like nothing. He'd rather she knee his balls again than see her so upset. The small scrapes left by the rope certainly justified that punishment. "I don't want to talk to you," she added, turning her face away.

He growled. Why couldn't she just yell at him? Why not throw something at him? He'd take her wrath and abuse over a cold shoulder. At least when she berated him, he knew what was going through her mind. But for once he had no idea how to poke at her temper and force her to lash out at him. At least he didn't think he could without destroying the bond they built between them.

He decided that she just needed time. She would forgive him on her own, even if he had to bear her silence until then. Hopefully by the time Nezumi left, she would see that the danger had passed and she remained safe. Though, he would need to question her about this latest vision that apparently foresaw the rat's arrival. He had been too preoccupied with the fact Nami left the safety of camp in Britain to care about her latest vision. She hadn't seemed particularly upset over whatever she was seeing, so he didn't think it important to question the details, merely trusted she would tell him what he needed to know when the time came. Well, that time was upon them, but he couldn't question her until she calmed down enough to talk.

Restraining the urge to fight her attitude, he climbed off the bed and stomped over to the fire. He slumped down onto a tiny, uncomfortable stool with his back to her and prepared to spend the night glaring at the fire until his eyes watered and turned blind. It was all he could do while blocking out the woman sniffling behind him. His jaw ticked when he heard the faintest whimper from her, a suppressed sob as she shifted on the bed. He could tell she was trying to be quiet, but as the silence of the small home grew heavy, her sniffling was all he could hear other than the crackle of the burning wood.

It was a far more brutal punishment than any strike she could level against him. Every moment that passed without a single word from her, his body grew tense and rigid, fighting off the urge to climb into bed with her and force her to forgive him. She wouldn't have to talk to him. He'd just kiss away her tears and distract her from her fears with the pleasure he had intended to give her that night. But if she didn't want to talk to him, he doubted she wanted him to touch her, and she'd only have more charges to level against him and hate him for.

The more he forced himself to ignore her, the more his temper whittled away. As justified as her hurt and anger was, he had every right to feel the same. He should be angry with her. She had been the one foolish enough to run away. She had been the one who didn't trust him enough to stay as he told her. The thought that she didn't believe in him, didn't trust that he would protect her, no matter the cost, hurt him and he clung to the hurt until the pang of guilt was replaced with a swirling rage he somehow managed to restrain. She wanted to leave him, just as he had begun to take steps in winning her for himself. He had been preparing to put his heart out there for her, something he had never done for any other woman, and she cared so little about him, she had no qualms with tossing him aside and fleeing for her own safety.

"I'm hungry," she whispered suddenly, breaking through the circling thoughts that were fueling his pent-up rage.

"Well, that's too fucking bad," he bit out callously, unable to bring himself to care. His rational mind knew that he should care, and a part of him wanted to rejoice the fact she spoke at all, but the ache gnawing at his chest left him feeling too bitter to be anything but brusque with her. Knowing her, the hunger was just another ruse that might get him to leave long enough to make another run for the hills. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of falling to her tricks.

Nami huffed behind him. "Jerk."

His temper flared and he turned to snarl at her. "If you had just stayed in your fucking room like I told you, then you would have gotten your supper. It's your own damn fault."

"Why are you getting mad at me?" she yelled, her own tempering sparking with his. "You're not the one who was bound and gagged and carried off like a prisoner!"

"If I hadn't done that, you would have left me!"

"I wasn't leaving you!"

"Oh? So you were just going for a walk, then? You were planning to come back?" he bit out. "I don't believe that for a second."

She pursed her lips to muffle a frustrated scream, but her eyes were alight with her anger. "I was trying to protect you!"

"Well I'm trying to protect you, but you're making it difficult by being such a pain in the ass!"

"If you'd just let me leave, then you wouldn't have to worry about protecting me!"

"I wouldn't worry about protecting you if you'd stop arguing with me when I tell you to hide and let me handle it!" She had no retort save for a sneering growl that he was all too happy to return. "And what the fuck makes you think I'd be happy to see my woman leave me? I'm trying to give you reason to stay with me, and prove to whatever fucking god might have a problem with it, that they ain't got a say in our lives. But you obviously don't give a shit about any of that seeing you were ready to turn your back on me and throw out what we have," he growled. His temper began to abandon him, leaving him with only the ache she left in his chest at the very thought he might not see her again if she had succeeded in running away.

Nami's anger vanished in an instant and he turned his back to her when he saw her eyes widen in surprise. That look on her face made him feel strangely vulnerable. She had realized something, saw something he hadn't intended to show her. She was seeing through his anger, to the reason for it. He couldn't say he liked it, if only because he had no idea how she would react. She'd surely laugh at him, thinking that he cared so much about her while he was probably just a means to an end for her. He was an idiot if he thought he was anything else to her.

He glared at the fire, once more hoping to blind himself in the flames. Nami said nothing. She didn't laugh or mock him, but it was coming, he knew it. He heard movement behind him; the rustle of her clothes and the blankets on the bed, the scrape of her leather shoes on the dirty floor. He refused to look at her, tensed when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. She came around to crouch in front of him and he turned his face away, unwilling to see what expression she wore.

His teeth ground together when he heard her sigh, his hands balled into fists as she pushed them out of her way while climbing into his lap. And then her arms wound around his neck and he felt all the tension and anger fall away with a ragged sigh as he hesitantly returned the embrace.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, those simple words enough to wash away the pain in his chest.

He buried his face against her neck and nodded, unable to say anything himself.

"I really was just trying to save you," she insisted. "But maybe I was being too selfish."

His arms tightened around her as he nuzzled her neck. He didn't want to talk. He just wanted to revel in having her in his arms. She was safe there. And as long as she was there, then everything was right in their world. So long as she let him hold onto her, cling to her, then he could forget all the pain, all the darkness, all the loss. He could feel good and right and warm, more than he ever deserved, but he was too greedy and selfish to let her go now that he had her. He needed more than the taste she had given him. He needed to know what it felt like to have her whole heart and know that she would never forsake him.

"Even before I met you, my visions told me that losing you would be one of the most painful experiences of my life," she said, sniffling back a flurry of emotion that seemed to seep into his heart. "But now…" She let out a ragged breath and clung to him. "Those visions hardly did that loss justice. I don't want to live in a world without you in it."

He swore his heart was about to shatter his ribs, it was beating so hard. That subtle confession left him lightheaded and agonizingly happy.

"Who's going to hold my hand when I cry at your funeral?" she asked with a sad laugh he couldn't help but mirror. The gallows humor masked the fear and sorrow she truly felt. He hated that she had to face that possibility at all. He wouldn't fear his own death, but he would fear the state it would leave her in.

"That's why we're going to fight as hard as we can to change what you saw," he said with a voice raw from the emotional end to their argument. He pulled back, forcing her to loosen her hold so he could see her face. Her skin was pale and splotched with red, her eyes watery and as red as her cheeks. A stray hair stuck to a dried tear track beneath her eye. He forced a smile as he brushed the hair away. "And I know how you feel. I don't want you to leave because I need you in my life, I can't imagine it any other way now."

Her smile quivered as fear and uncertainty seemed to war in her eyes. But then she leaned in to kiss him, choosing him over her anxieties. He kissed her back like a man starved, digging his hand in her hair to hold her in place while he devoured her. This was what he would rather be doing. He didn't want to argue with her over his decision to keep her safe or her incessant need to run. He didn't want to think about what might come of their choices in life. He just wanted to savor what little happiness they could have together.

As his mind fogged over with her sweet taste and muffled mewls, he thought to take them to the bed where he could spend the whole night sinking into pure bliss with her. But then he heard her stomach rumble and broke the kiss with a chuckle.

"You really are hungry," he commented, snorting at her pout.

"I promise I won't leave if you go get me something to eat," she huffed.

"I know you won't leave." He shifted to stand and turned to set her on his stool. "But that's 'cause I'm not leaving, either." Her sulky pout deepened until he flicked her forehead to make her stop. He laughed at her annoyed glower and the bit of heat that flashed in her gaze. "I store dried fish and cheese here," he explained. "Might still have some ale left from the last time I stocked up."

She perked up while watching as he moved to the chest in the corner. "What is this place, anyway? I thought you said this was your old home."

"It is," he answered as he pulled out a chunk of cheese wrapped in cloth. It didn't look spoiled, still smelled good, so he handed it toward her before searching for the fish. He found the skin of ale; there wasn't much left, but it should be enough to wash down the meager meal.

"But you still keep food here," she prompted.

He shrugged, turning to her with some slices of dried fish tucked in a pouch. "It's a safehouse. If one of the villagers, or the family tending Killer's farm, get caught out here in a storm, they can use it to shelter for a night." He settled onto the floor beside her, leaning close to share the rations with her. "And there's an understanding among the village women that if they need somewhere safe to hide, they can come here. It's where I housed that woman and her son after granting her divorce. My men know to patrol out here to see that there's food, and if a woman's hiding here, they check to see that their husband didn't find them."

Nami shifted beside him and he glanced up when he felt her fingers sweep through his hair. She wore a smile that made his heart stop. The glint of pride in her eye took his breath away.

"What?" he grumbled, looking away to mask the unease he felt with that gaze. There weren't many people who looked at him with obvious pride, he could count them on one hand, and none of them looked at him with unmasked adoration. He swore it was too good to be true.

"You're a good man," she said. "You might be crude and short-tempered and violent," she added on, snickering when he glared at her, "but you care about the people in your village."

He shrugged off her praise. "I swore to protect them as their jarl. It's my responsibility to keep them safe. I won't make much of a name for myself if I let them all suffer."

"That isn't the only reason you care for them," she said quietly. "I think you're genuinely concerned about the well-being of those you're responsible for. You might want their adulation and respect, but I think you also want to see them happy and flourishing under your rule. You don't want them to live in fear of you."

"They fear me plenty," he muttered, picking off a flaky piece of fish to gnaw on.

"I'm sure they do fear your wrath, but they don't seem to fear you in their day to day lives. So long as they don't give you reason to be angry, they know they're safe with you, that you won't harm them unjustly." He peeked up to see her smiling kindly at him. "You save your real anger for those that wronged you."

He couldn't believe that this woman could be so kind, especially to a bastard like him. Especially after what he did to her that night.

His gaze flit to her wrist and he glowered at the marks there.

"Give me your hands," he ordered gruffly. Her brows furrowed in confusion, but she set her meal in her lap and held her hands out for him to take, allowing him to inspect the sores the rope left behind. He ran a thumb over an angry red scrap and then brushed his lips over it. "Sorry I tied you up again."

He kissed another sore and was rewarded with her sweet, tinkling laughter. The sound was as refreshing as a gentle breeze off the sea, soothing his guilt as she freed her hands from his to cup his face, tilting it up to steal a peck from his lips. "You're forgiven," she whispered.

Relief ran through him as she straightened and returned to her meal. And with that relief came a realization that was both awe-inspiring and terrifying at the same time.

He had fallen in love with her.

---

Nami woke that morning to a heavy weight around her waist, a warm body pressed against her back, and raspy snores fanning through her hair. She couldn't help but smile as she squirmed in the tight confines of the bed to get closer to Kid. He groaned in his sleep and tightened his hold on her, drawing her against him just as she wished. She felt him nuzzle her, then he relaxed and his even snores returned.

She had gone to sleep alone after staying up late with Kid. They had sat by the fire, sharing the dried food and passing the skin of ale between them until it was gone. He had turned silent for a while, lost in thought as he stared at the fire, and she wondered if she should break him free when she asked him about the life he led in the tiny, one room home he had lived in before becoming jarl.

It took some coaxing, but eventually he shook off whatever thoughts had him so distracted and answered her queries with more than a grunt. He pointed out the spots on the wall where his mother marked his height. He made her sit on the floor so he could show her the carvings beneath the stool he made one night when he was bored but couldn't sleep. There were others on the wall where he had slept as a child, and she saw more gouged into the posts of the bed when he slept there as a teen, after his mother had been moved into Killer's home to be cared for while ill.

He found one of the boats he made as a child. It still sat on a shelf above the bed, covered in dust with its patchwork sail eaten through from years of disuse. It was tiny, carved from a branch rather than pieced together like a real ship, but he assured her that it floated down the river just fine. He laughed when he said one of his first boats sunk when he tried to put a mouse in it and let it sail to the fjord. It made it all the way to the fjord, but the poor mouse was jostled by the changing current into the bay and turned the boat over. The boat got lost in the waves, but he assured her that he saw the mouse swim back to shore.

He told her stories about the cold nights when his mother let him take the bed while she sat shivering alone by the fire. When he turned twelve, he insisted on going hunting with his cousins to take out a bear big enough to give her a good fur cloak to wear, and maybe even make a smaller blanket for himself so she didn't have to give up her bed. Killer's father managed to corner a wolf long enough for Kid to put an arrow in it. It wasn't enough to make more than a cloak for his mother, but was better than nothing, and he spent the spring helping gather enough wool to have one of the thralls make him a new blanket for the next winter.

When his mother died, he took the wolf pelt from the cloak he made her and used it for his own, carrying her memory on his shoulders to that very day.

Then he asked about her mother—Bellemere—and she hesitated to share her own stories. It was hard enough just remembering her mother. The memories were bittersweet, soured by her death. She hated talking about her, dredging up those times in her life that were lost. But as Kid stared at her with that innocently expectant look, she swallowed her unhealed grief and shared the best memories she could with him. He had shared so much with her, it was only fair she open up to him in turn.

She told him about the time she beat up the boys who mocked Bellemere and received a grin and bark of laughter from Kid. His amusement grew when she said Bellemere smacked her upside the head for it, then turned her ire onto the boys after she told her all that they said. She didn't appreciate being called an old hag. Kid said he understood where her fiery personality came from, and praised the woman for raising her to be as tough as she was.

She told him about the first map she drew and how Bellemere praised her work. She had nailed it to the wall, right over their bed. Bellemere had said that someday she would be able to sail over all the seas, see new lands, and she wanted her to return with maps of everywhere she had been so that she could hang those on the wall, too. Kid had taken her hand when her smile grew pained and left a teasing kiss to make the smile come easier. His eyes shone with mirth she couldn't quite feel as he reminded her of his promise to take her wherever she desired so she could make all the maps she wanted.

All would be for Bellemere, none for him. The reaffirmed promise made her chest warm while that bittersweet pang of loss stole her voice. Silence fell over them again as she curled up beside him, but the silence was comfortable, one neither cared to disturb as Kid trailed his fingers through her hair. The soft gesture lulled her, and when she gave a yawn and felt her eyes grow heavy, Kid nudged her away and ordered her to bed. Alone. The bed was too small for the two of them, he said. He would rest on the floor by the fire. She was prepared to argue, to stay by the fire with him, but he waved her off. She would take the bed, end of argument.

But sometime in the night he had squeezed his way in, rousing her enough to sigh happily at the company while burrowing against his chest. He had been right, the bed was far too small for both of them, but that didn't deter them in the end. Kid wrapped her up in his arms as he curled up and she fell back to sleep, warm and safe.

Something had changed between them that night. She couldn't quite say what, but she knew that it was good. After the day she had, she couldn't believe that she would be content to share a bed with him again, but she couldn't be happier to be there.

She hadn't been thinking when she tried to run away. Her only thought was to get away, to escape the danger drawing near, to spare Kid and his people the pain of a war they didn't ask for, that they didn't deserve. She wanted to protect Kid, but in the end, her actions had hurt him. All the anger she had over the way he handled her vanished when she saw the pain he felt from her actions slip through. She was still hurt that he went so far to keep her there, but seeing how much the thought of her leaving affected him, she had to put her own thoughts aside and comfort him, reassure him that she did care, that she wasn't leaving because of him. And he apologized for hurting her in the end, so sacrificing her own pride was worth it.

She still felt uneasy about staying there, but she knew it was too late to flee. She didn't want to throw away the friendships she had made, and certainly not the relationship she was forging with Kid. She had already abandoned her sister, a woman that meant the world to her but she couldn't bring herself to speak of lest the guilt eat her alive. She couldn't lose the first real happiness she had found since she was a child. So, she would quell her fears and trust that they could handle whatever came. She would trust in Kid, even if she couldn't quite trust herself.

She rolled over to face him, snickering at his annoyed groan when the movement jostled him in his sleep. He threw his leg over her once she settled, pressed his nose to her hair, and slept on. She found that she liked his habit of smothering her in his sleep, at least most of the time. It was cute how earnestly he searched for her, even while unconscious, and how pleased he was to keep her caged in his arms where he surely thought she belonged.

She especially enjoyed it because she had the pleasurable experience of being pressed up against a naked chest built with solid muscle. Over the weeks, she had begun to silently appreciate Kid's propensity to walk around topless, especially in the privacy of their rooms. His wide shoulders rippled with the strength to carry some of her burdens and shield her from danger. The muscles of his torso were carved so delicately, her fingers always itched to trace over every defined line on his chest and stomach. The iron strength he carried in his arms was forged over years of battle and ship building. And the knowledge that his embrace could crush her with ease, made her appreciate the restraint he showed when holding her close, protecting her with his power, not destroying her with it.

That morning she gave in to the urge to touch him and traced her finger along his collarbone. He shifted closer as she followed the ridge down to the center of his chest. His skin was rougher than her own, but the muscle soft enough to give in under her firm touch. She dragged her finger down, followed the curve of his pec. She bit her lip as she traced around the edge of a flat nipple, and sucked in a breath when his pec twitched at her touch. Her lips tingled with the need to kiss him there, her mouth watered with the need to taste him. It had felt good when he suckled her through her shift the other night, she wondered if it would feel the same for him.

Kid stiffened with a stretch, bringing a halt to her wayward thoughts. He relaxed into her with a groan and wound his arm around her shoulders to crush her into his chest as he nuzzled the top of her head.

"G'morning," he rasped into her hair, his husky voice sending an odd shiver of pleasure down her spine. "What's for breakfast?"

His question ruined the inkling of lust that teased her. Her hand was trapped against his chest, right over the nipple she had been considering so intently before he woke. So, in her ire, she trapped the bud between thumb and forefinger to pinch and twist until he pulled away with a hissed curse.

"What the fuck was that for?" he groaned once she finally released him. He nursed the bright red bud that was left puckered by her abuse. For a brief moment she was distracted with her lustful curiosity, wondering if it would look the same had it been her lips wrapped around it, instead of her fingers.

She shook away those thoughts to glower up at him. "You know very well we have nothing for breakfast," she snapped. "Unless you have another stash of dried fish somewhere."

"Tsh, no need to abuse me for that," he huffed, then tossed his arm back around her to return them to their previous position. "Hopefully Hróarr will bring something to eat. If not, I'll send Gunda back with a meal for you." He let out a content hum as he buried his nose in her hair. "We'll just stay like this while we wait."

Her ire vanished and she sank into his embrace. She liked that idea.

"I thought you were going to sleep on the floor," she remarked while she freed her hand from between their chests to trace a finger over his side. His muscles twitched for her again and he squirmed against her, letting out a low groan as he returned the gesture by trailing his fingers over her shoulder. She had removed her brooches and apron dress, leaving her in the thin linen dress she wore beneath. The neckline scooped wide and low, and was easily pushed aside to free a shoulder for his attention. She shivered as his fingers grazed along her neck, over her shoulder, and back up again, teasing over her collarbone with his thumb at every pass.

"Got cold and uncomfortable," he explained. His voice was pitched lower and sounded hoarse. It sounded just as it had the other night when he whispered his poetic words in her ear and set her body on fire with his touch. Just remembering the way his breath fanned over her neck with each word made her gut coil and warm, her insides clenching with a need for something that she couldn't put words to herself.

She managed to giggle at what she knew was an excuse. He wanted to be in bed with her. He always did. It was laughable to think he needed any sort of excuse to crawl under the old fur blanket and wrap himself around her.

"And squeezing into a tiny bed with me is more comfortable?" she asked, snickering. "Your feet hang off the end."

His growl sounded playful as he shifted to brush a kiss to her temple. "So long as I got you in my arms, I could be laying on a bed of spikes and be comfortable."

She turned her face up to his, smiling wide at his feigned glower. "You just wanted to cuddle with me."

Kid snorted before leaning in to tease her with the possibility of a kiss. He hovered just far enough away to feel the heat of him, but didn't close the gap. She could see the crinkling at the corner of his eyes that told her he was grinning. "Maybe I just wanted to make sure you didn't take off in the night while I slept. You can't escape so easily when I got you trapped like this."

She pouted and finally got the kiss she wanted.

"Or maybe I did just want to hold my woman," he whispered against her lips before kissing her again. "There a problem with that?"

She shook her head and boldly took another kiss from him.

His groan rumbled in his chest as he tilted his head to deepen their kiss. He cupped her jaw, threading his fingers through loose strands of hair, and held her in place while he kissed her senseless. The kisses they shared the night before had been deep and savoring, but that morning they turned hungry, tinged with a rough need that wouldn't be sated with a few pecks.

There was an urgency in their kiss that made Nami moan while her lungs ached for a breath. Her hands ran over his chest, drinking in the taut muscle beneath her fingertips. She could feel his heart race and the rumble of another moan. His hand left her jaw to grasp her thigh and hitch it on his hip, rolling his hard length against her. Her nails dug into his flesh when that firm touch lit the same fire it had the other night, spurring her to press into him and silently beg that he do it again.

Kid shoved her back and settled between her legs, then broke the kiss to hiss as he ground into her again. Her legs wrapped around him on instinct and she rubbed against him, seeking the pleasure he had given her before as the first tingles grew into a desperate ache and then a roaring blaze.

Kid latched onto her neck and drew out a mewl when he found the spot that made her eyes roll back in her head. He pulled back abruptly, chuckling at her whimper, and then darted to the other side of her neck.

"Forgot," he muttered between gentle nips. "Need t' give your left side attention."

When he wrapped his lips around a spot beneath her ear, she praised his memory as a bolt of pure ecstasy raced through her. She never imagined a single spot on her neck could be connected to the spot begging for his touch between her legs, but it was, and with every suck and nip he gave her, she felt her core churn and clutch at nothing, seeking sweet release. She arched into him and cried out. She was on fire.

"I need you to touch me this time," he grumbled into her ear, tickling her when he nibbled on the shell.

She didn't quite understand what he said. She was touching him. She was clinging to him, dragging her nails over his flesh until angry red welts formed wherever her hands went. But when he ground his cock into her again and shuddered above her, she understood where he needed her touch most.

He was pressed too close to reach him, but then he lifted his chest from her so he could tug down the top of her dress. His kisses descended over her chest, sucking and laving the swells of her breasts. When his mouth found her aching nipple, freed from the scratchy linen, she arched into him and clutched his head to her as his lips drove another bolt through her. As he suckled her, she writhed beneath him, her breath coming in short gasps that left her lightheaded. Just as her other breast began to grow heavy with need, aching for his touch, too, he shifted to the side, shocking her wet nipple with a blast of cold air, and latched onto her other breast to torture her with the same pleasure.

"Touch me," he demanded through a growl, his mouth not once leaving her breasts as he spoke. One hand came up to knead the breast not being worshiped by his tongue. The other snagged her hand and brought it between them, down to the front of his trousers to feel the hard cock desperate for her touch.

He groaned and bucked into her hand. The response intrigued her, so she squeezed his length and rubbed her hand over him. He hissed out a curse and then pushed himself up to slam his lips to hers. His bare chest pressed against hers was enough to make her shiver and arch into him, seeking more of the fluttering sensation his heated skin brought as it caressed hers. She wondered if he liked feeling their skin glide together as much as she did.

While his tongue delved into her mouth and his kiss made her melt, she subtly loosened the ties of his trousers to slip her hand inside. Kid broke the kiss to let out a throaty groan the moment her hand wrapped around his stiff shaft. He bucked into her grip as he buried his face against her neck, muffling his moans and gasps as his hips thrust into her grip. He pressed a mindless kiss to her throat, then hissed when her thumb traced over the head of his cock.

His reactions to her touch were encouraging. She had never touched a man like this. Never felt the heavy weight of a cock, nor the velvety texture of the skin wrapped around the hard shaft. Her thumb swept over the head again, soaking in the feel of the soft flesh, and collected a dewy drop of fluid.

Kid shifted above her, lifting his hips enough to reach between them. His hand wrapped over hers. "Tighter," he commanded as he squeezed his hand around hers, then drew her hand up and down his length. "Like this…" he rasped, groaning as he met their hands' movement with a thrust. He drew his hand away after a moment, and moaned as she continued to rub him as he showed her. "That's it…" he breathed out, then wrapped his lips around her earlobe to suck and nibble on her.

"Nami," he said with a pleasured sigh. She felt him tug at the hem of her dress, pushing it higher. Another bolt of desire raced through her when his fingers trailed over the inside of her thigh. "I'm trying to restrain myself," he whispered as his fingers toyed along the edge of her undergarments. She gasped when he peeled them to the side, arched as he gently traced over her lower lips. She had never been touched like that, either. "I know I can't take you yet," he continued to say. "But I want to," he said through a groan. "Need to," he growled.

She felt a finger press into her folds, easily slipping through her wetness. The first inkling of pressure took her breath away as he slowly eased the finger into her canal. She caught her breath as he slowly drew it back out. His thumb ran over a spot hidden in her folds at the top of her slit, the same spot he struck the other night that drove her mad with lust just by rubbing against her. The direct touch brought a wave of pleasure far stronger than what he had given her before, and as his finger thrust into her again, the fire he lit was stoked. She couldn't even fathom the thought of drowning and burning at the same time, but it was the only way to describe the foggy state of her mind and the searing coil winding tight inside her.

He pushed in a second finger on the next thrust, stretching her sweetly and making her cry out his name as a tremor raced through her. He thrust his hand faster, rubbed over a spot that made her toes curl and her eyes burst with black stars. She could feel her core clutching him with every pass, as though her body needed him inside her, needed him to drive her lust into an all-consuming inferno. For a brief moment, the sheer intensity of it scared her, but the fear ebbed as Kid kissed up her cheek, seeking her lips to swallow her moans and share her gasps.

"You feel so good, Nami," he rasped against her lips. "I want to bury myself inside you, give myself to your heat, and never part from it again."

She cried out and angled her hips up, seeking out that same connection. He thrust his fingers harder, faster, pressed his forehead to hers, and watched as she gave in to the heat swirling in her core. The pressure inside her snapped without warning and the fire he created erupted, bursting free to singe every part of her body with mind-numbing ecstasy. All she could do was clutch him tight, hold on to the only solid thing she recognized while her body arched off the bed and writhed uncontrollably.

She swore she heard a raspy "Beautiful" escape the man above her as her body slumped back into the bed, boneless and spent and still tingling with lingering pleasure. His hand stilled, but his fingers remained buried inside her while his other hand came to wrap around hers. She was still holding his shaft, but in her euphoric haze, she had forgotten all about it. He didn't seem to hold that against her as he took control of his own needs, pumping their hands over him until she felt the shaft twitch. She managed to open drowsy eyes that she hadn't even realized were shut, and looked up to see his lips twisted in a grimace. He twitched again, and then a harder pulse churned beneath her palm. His eyes rolled back and then shut, and he let out a deep, relieved groan just as she felt something wet splatter against her thigh.

If her skin wasn't already on fire from her orgasm, she would have been burning with a blush when she realized it was his seed.

Kid slumped over her, breathing hard with his face buried against her neck. She said nothing as her mind caught up with the fact she had just helped him find his release, while he gave her yet another. She couldn't find it in her to care about how easily she gave in to her desires. She had been determined to hold her own pace, to make him take their courtship slow, but once he touched her, kissed her, drew her in close, she was powerless to resist him. But she grudgingly admitted the ecstasy he gave her was worth the loss of control.

Kid chuckled once he caught his breath. His lips pressed hard to her cheek, the kiss making her stomach flutter and smile grow. It was such a sweet, simple gesture that made her feel adored and treasured. He sat back on his knees, chuckling again when she whimpered at the chill that came without his hot body above her. He held her gaze and wore a smug grin as he drew his fingers from her core. Her eyes widened as she watched him wrap his lips around them, sucking them clean with a savoring moan.

His rusty eyes were filled with heat, making them glow like molten iron. The look bored into her, burned her as much as his touch, and made her shudder with a desire for him.

"One of these days I'm going to get a good taste of you," he said once his fingers were clean, his deep voice filled with a lewd promise. As his gaze swept over her, his grin grew. He darted his tongue out to lick his lips once his gaze settled between her legs. "I think that's how I'll pleasure you next time." He met her shocked gaze when she squeaked at the bold statement and his licentious smile. "I'm tempted to stay in bed with you all day, see how many ways I can make you cry out my name without taking you."

She tried to squeeze her thighs together to ease the ache that thought gave her, but with Kid in the way, she only managed to make him laugh and lower himself back to her, nestling himself between her legs and easing the ache with his body and the soft cock sliding against her wet slit. She squirmed beneath him as he nuzzled her neck and wrapped her up in his arms.

"Seems you like that idea," Kid teased.

She did, but her stomach rumbled to life to remind her why they couldn't laze in bed all day. "You have to get more food," she reminded, pouting up at him when he drew back to glower at her. "And Hróarr should be here soon."

He huffed. "I'll send him away."

"You need to check on the hall and see when Nezumi's going to leave," she added, clinging to reason rather than succumb to temptation. If she let him do as he pleased, they were bound to end up tangled together, forgetting the reason for the proper courtship entirely.

He groaned. "Fuck him. I want to stay here." His words were coupled with a kiss to the corner of her jaw. His teeth dragged over her, making her shiver, and he chuckled. "You want me to stay, too."

"It doesn't matter." She tried to shove his head away, but he rolled his length against her and her breath caught at the searing heat of his flesh against her core. "You have things to do."

"I have a woman to do," he jested, nipping her ear hard enough to make her jump and shriek.

"Kid," she whined, trying to ignore the hand subtly moving closer to her breast. "Stop."

He growled in annoyance and kneaded her breast, anyway. His lips wrapped around her pulse and took her breath away as he made her mind fog with lust again. She couldn't hold to reason well enough to argue with him. He was set on seducing her again, and her body was happy to let him.

A pounding knock at the door broke her from the haze of desire. "Kid," she snapped, pushing at his shoulders while he continued to kiss along her jaw. "Someone's at the door."

"Go away," he called out before snatching her hands off him to pin her down and slam his lips to hers.

She growled into the rough kiss and struggled while whoever was at the door pounded on the wood again. This time it was paired with a bellowing "Jarl Eustass" that she recognized as Hróarr's voice.

Nami turned her face away to break the kiss. "Kid," she shouted. "I said stop."

"Damn it," Kid snarled, turning to glare at the door. "You have shitty timing, Hróarr."

"Jarl Eustass, if you do not open this door at once, I will take my axe to it," Hróarr hollered back. "And if I find that you're in bed with my daughter, I'll take that axe to your cock."

Nami blinked in confusion at the last warning. She knew the identity Kid had given her to keep any guests that knew her from asking too many questions, but that was only necessary when there was a risk of being overheard. They were far from the village, Hróarr should have no reason to refer to her as his daughter there.

"Fuck off, old man. I'm going to stay—" Kid's grip loosened enough for her to free a hand and slap it over his mouth to cut him off. He glanced at her, eyes narrowed, but she only returned his glare with her own.

"He's not alone, idiot" she hissed.

He cursed behind her hand and finally climbed off her. He quickly tucked himself back into his trousers, snatched a cloth from the chest and tossed it at her, hissing an order that she clean up while he trudged toward the door. She had to hastily get her dress to rights before he opened the door and just barely got herself covered when he tossed the bar to the ground.

The moment he swung the door open, he was greeted by a simmering Hróarr. The older man pulled back a fist and threw it into Kid's nose before he could even think to dodge, sending his jarl stumbling back. Nami clapped a hand over her mouth to hold back an alarmed cry when Hróarr took advantage of Kid's lack of balance in that moment and tackled him to the floor. He threw another punch that came with a sickening crunch. Her stomach roiled when she saw the trickle of blood from Kid's nose as he turned to spit out another glob of blood.

"I was followed," Hróarr explained with a harsh whisper, then prepared to strike Kid again.

Nami jumped out of bed, thinking to stop them from turning the mock fight into a real one, but Kid caught Hróarr's fist and grinned at the man. Her cry finally escaped when Kid pitched his head forward to slam it into Hróarr's face. Hróarr toppled off him with the single strike that split his lip, allowing Kid to scramble from the floor. The grin he wore wasn't angry in the least, but excitement and fire glinted in his eye as though he were truly prepared to fight the older man.

Instead of attacking Hróarr like she expected him to, he spun on his heel to snatch up his tunic. He paid no mind to the man scrambling to his feet behind him as he approached her, chuckling mischievously as he wound his arm around her waist. She squeaked in surprise when he drew her in and crushed his lips to hers in a hard kiss. When he pulled back, his smile was softer, filled with happiness and contentment. She couldn't hold back her matching smile as he stole one more kiss and then released her just in time to dance away from Hróarr's axe.

"I'm going, old man," he hollered, dodging a half-hearted slash.

His laugh echoed in the small space as he continued to dance and dodge away from Hróarr. It was all a game to him.

He ran out of the house barefoot, but Hróarr grabbed his boots and chucked them out the door. One slammed into Kid's shoulder, the other smacked the back of his head.

"If I see you near my Ketta again, I'll have your head," Hróarr shouted while Kid jumped onto his horse.

She was careful to stand in the shadows, pulling her hooded cloak over her to keep anyone watching from seeing her hair. She slipped up behind Hróarr to watch Kid kick his horse into a rapid gallop, tossing back a rude gesture and barked insult at Hróarr. He caught her eye a moment and his grin turned cocky as he winked. She couldn't begin to understand why that look made her blush.

Hróarr spun around to glower at her with what she guessed was a father's disappointment. She jumped back, trying hard not to giggle at his reddened face and narrowed eyes. She still felt giddy with delight after her morning with Kid, and the kiss he gave her before leaving only rekindle that happiness. With a resigned sigh, Hróarr slammed the door shut and waved her away.

"I swear, my heart won't hold up if this courtship is long," he grumbled while putting the bar in place. A snicker leaked out of her pursed lips as she tried not to smile. He looked at her, then rolled his eyes. "For the sake of my sanity, please marry him before the last harvest."

---

Oslo

He had spent three days acclimating himself to the village he would call home for the foreseeable future, trying to get a grasp on their way of life. At first glance, the village and surrounding farms that stretched far into the hills and mountains around the fjord appeared no different than any other village or town he visited. But any time the villagers saw the king's peacekeepers, they quickly looked away, kept their heads down, and shuffled off as fast as they could. And if the king left the walls of his fortress, they fell to their knees and bit their lips to keep from saying anything, fearful that he might hear.

Life was not as peaceful as it appeared.

The man they had taken when he arrived still sat chained in the main square, his face bloody and swollen. Corazon had examined the man two days into his punishment to see that he was still breathing, though each breath came ragged and strained. He likely had a broken rib or two, his jaw was fractured and out of place, the bones of his face were smashed in, and his nose was pushed to the side, his nostrils twisted in a way that made it impossible to breathe through his nose. He wondered how much longer he would be forced to remain there, how much the king would see him tormented. It might be a mercy to just let him die, but he wasn't about to help the poor man along, not if it ended with him in those chains.

Enel didn't trust him, which was fine. He didn't care if anyone there trusted him. He was an outsider, one who did not share his real name, nor his true purpose there. With his motives so shrouded, he expected them to keep a wary eye on him while holding him at a distance. He had no intention of interfering in Enel's reign, at least not until it suited him, but he also had no intention of aiding the king more than necessary as an ally. He wouldn't let his status as an outsider and untrustworthy man hinder his purposes.

His role as ally gave him access to Enel's fortress and left him free to roam the region as he pleased. The king arranged for him to stay in an old, rundown farmhouse tucked in the trees and hills of a peninsula to the west of the main bay. It belonged to the former king and was left to rot over the years since Enel overthrew his predecessor. Since he wanted Corazon at arm's length, or wholly out of sight until needed, he allowed him to remain in the house with the understanding that he would be left to fend for himself. He would receive no food from Enel's hall. If he were fortunate, he might receive a cup of ale should he stop in for a visit. Otherwise, it was expected that he would not be a burden upon the king, and Corazon was more than happy to oblige him.

He didn't want to rely on that man any more than he already had to, and he certainly didn't want to get too caught up in the man's grab for power. He was only there for one purpose—to find the woman with amber hair that was the key to his plan's success.

Over the three days, he learned much of Enel and the army he commanded. The peacekeepers led by McKinley were nothing more than standard patrol soldiers meant to maintain order within Enel's territory. His army, though, was another thing entirely. The man who called himself God commanded a meager army if only considering the number of soldiers loyal to him. Fifty men were led by four warrior priests, and while their number may be small, they had single-handedly seized the region from the previous king, unsettled large swaths of land further north and into the mountains, displaced jarls that refused to bend their knee to him upon defeat, and enslaved the surviving soldiers of the former king's army. Enel had only lost a handful of men, but he replaced them with the warriors that defeated those individuals, further strengthening his army.

His lazy, aloof demeanor within his hall came from the ease at which he held his title. He had nothing to fear, no enemies to worry over. He ruled his people with a merciless spear, killing all that questioned him, enslaving those of use to him, and enlisting the strongest who were smart enough to fear him. Corazon would almost be impressed, but he was painfully familiar with how cruel men like Enel could be. Even those loyal to him were not safe from his wrath should he deem it necessary to kill them. And his cold heart would never mourn the loss of a single soldier, tossing their memory aside with a callous disregard even he was incapable of.

Corazon did find some pleasantness within the village. As he wandered a path along the rocky western shore of the peninsula, he spotted a fisherman repairing his boat while his daughter sat nearby plucking at the strings of her lyre. They were kind and welcoming, inviting him to have a meal with them that night. They had been the ones to explain Enel's laws to him, why the man was chained and beaten in the square, and what his fate would likely be when they were done. Apparently, he would be set adrift in a worn faering with no food or water, too injured to row to shore and search for shelter. Eventually he would reach the open straits and either die of exposure, or starvation, or tossed into the sea in a storm and taken by their goddess Rán. If he was wise, he would end his misery quickly and leap into the sea before he could suffer for long. At least Rán was known to care for the drowned men she took into her hall, so he might find some peace in the afterlife.

Corazon saw the lessons he had learned from a young age at play within Oslofjord. The weak had no choice in their deaths. It was the strong that ruled them, the strong that decided when their time would come, and these people were already resigned to that fate, whenever it came.

It was late on his third night in Oslofjord when he made his way to the main village to walk along the beach and observe the longships rocking in the water, tied fast to their moorings. The sky above was slowly growing dark, but the western peaks in the distance were cast against a fiery backdrop as the sun hid just over the horizon. As summer came upon the region, the days would gradually become longer until the nights were only discernable by the moon in the sky and the extra shadows on the ground. The darkness of night would last only a few hours before twilight returned with the promise of dawn's glow.

He spied the king on the docks, facing out at the bay alone. The villagers had long ago retired for the evening. The world was still and at peace around the king who brought only misery and fear to his people. He doubted Enel had noticed his solitude at all. He doubted he cared.

"Have you begun to settle in?" Enel called out, surprising Corazon with the question. He was more aware of the world around him than he appeared.

"I have," he answered, strolling toward the dock to stand with the king.

"Good," Enel said, his gaze fixed on a spot in the distance. "The storm will be upon us soon."

"I am curious to know what this storm might entail. I've gathered that it is not a true storm, with lightning and rain, but a metaphor for something you have seen. Is this storm a great threat to the peace here?" he asked as he leaned against a piling and observed the king. While his gaze appeared steady, he noticed the man's pupils were wide, nearly overtaking his grey-blue irises. His mind was not entirely there.

Enel chuckled. "You are right, the storm is not a storm, though every night my gaze casts south and sees a tumult of dark clouds, growing and roiling and streaked with lightning." Corazon glanced over his shoulder in the direction Enel stared. He saw nothing.

"How do you know I am the harbinger of this great storm?" he asked.

Enel blinked from the daze of his vision and cast a sly smile his way. "I saw a man clad in black with death written upon bloodstained hands. Calamity follows in your wake."

Corazon fought the urge to shift at the remark, clasping his hands together and rubbing the lettering tattooed to the backs of his fingers. That vision was truer than he liked. "And what came after me? Surely you have not only seen clouds?"

Enel looked back out to sea, his smile growing wide. "I have seen rats and dead fish and a great, ravenous wolf."

Corazon swallowed a chuckle. He suspected he knew who the wolf was meant to be. The man with blood red hair had certainly appeared ravenous as he descended upon the battlefield to protect the single woman he was after.

"Any others you have seen?" he asked, curious if this man had foreseen the woman he searched for. He still was unsure if she would follow the path that would lead her to him, but perhaps the seer king before him had a clue of the fate she followed.

Enel's gaze turned knowing. "You seek someone," he said frankly. No question. No curiosity. He saw what Corazon was there for. If that bit of knowledge bothered the king, he did not show it as he cast his gaze outward again. "I have… sensed someone within the tree. They hide from my view, but I need not look for them to know they are there, watching me, seeing the same storm that I see. I do not yet know what role they will play in the building storm, but when I finally lay eyes on them, I will know for certain who they are and why I need them."

Corazon hummed thoughtfully. Enel looked at him with a piercing gaze that made him wonder if the man could see more than the fate ahead of them. Did the druid not warn him to take care of who he spoke to here?

"Who is this person you seek?" Enel asked, turning his whole attention toward him.

"A person of great importance," he said cryptically. He could not give himself away. "I have come to bear witness the fate your gods have created for them."

"Is this fate connected to mine?"

"I cannot say. I am not a seer. I am merely an observer. But I have been told that fate would bring them here, so I can only surmise that their fate flows into yours." All that he said was true. He had no intention of interfering with Enel's plans. If she came to Oslofjord, then it was only a matter of biding his time until he could take her. "Perhaps I am meant to play a role in it, but I am doubtful of that."

Enel frowned at him. He looked prepared to say something, but his attention snapped back toward the bay so suddenly that Corazon knew something was amiss.

"What is it?" he asked, watching as Enel glowered at the sea.

The king eased down to crouch on the dock, propping his chin on his hand as he stared. "The storm is shifting."

"Is it coming closer?"

"No, not yet. It appears it does not know which way it will go yet. There are forces at play, other directions it could go," Enel explained

Three paths, he thought to himself. If she was venturing to a path that would take her out of his reach, that might account for the change Enel observed. He did not want to risk that. He needed her to find the third way, to come to that fjord and find him. Could he meddle with the fates to increase his odds?

He turned to stare off to the south with Enel, thinking of his options. If Enel knew more, would he be able to influence her choices? He did not understand the importance of the rats and fish in the vision, but he knew the wolf. He knew that in order to get her, he needed to remove that particular obstacle. Either he needed to drive them apart long enough to get his hands on her, or he needed to see the wolf put down, taken permanently out of his way.

He crouched down beside Enel. He knew what he had to do.

"I can tell you about the wolf." He paused, sensing as Enel slowly turned to look at him. "And the amber-haired woman he is sworn to protect."

---

A/N: It took Kid 22 chapters to realize he was in love in 'Possession'... And this time it took him 23 chapters. I didn't plan on him having that realization this early, but Kid does what he wants. The bastard. At least this time he realized his feelings before he's had sex with her, lol.

I think the only reference I need to make note of is the name 'Ketta' - it's from Beowulf.

Also, I forgot to mention in the last chapter's notes that Oslo is not actually 'Oslo' at this time period, but the only thing I've found about the name of the region prior to it's official finding in the 1200s is that no one can quite figure out what it was named for. Also Norway's king did not permanently reside there until the 1200s. We're in a time period where a lot of people called themselves king and warred with each other and overthrew each other and there really wasn't an official royal lineage, it was just whoever killed the last king became the new king. But the king of Norway at this time was obviously not named Enel, so we've officially moved far away from historical accuracy and from this point on everything is going to be steeped in mythology and mysticism more than history, so I'm forgiving my lack of accuracy on this.

And yes, Law is officially going to be another major point of view. Everyone rejoice for that because when I came up with this fic he was hardly going to be more than a fleeting cameo, now he's literally central to the plot (along with Loki... I think Loki and Freyja are the gods most driving my creativity and inspiration for this fic, which doesn't surprise me, tbh).

I will try to get one more chapter done before I leave for England and Norway, but I make no promises on that.

Edit - thank you to the reviewer that pointed out I misspelled 'canter' the first time. Also, to the same reviewer, yes, Ketta is the name, or word, used to reference Grendel's mother in the Old Norse version of the Beowulf story. It's thought to mean 'she-cat' or a great feline spirit.