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.

26. Chapter 26

Warnings: Graphic violence, gore, character death.

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

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Storm

Time became elusive in the fury of war. The world stood still in the moment his sword rang off another, then sped up in a flurry of motion until steel rent through armor and flesh, when time seemed to freeze yet again.

He didn't know how much time he had left. He didn't know what would come when time ran out. Would they find victory? Would they see defeat? Would he live long enough to see the outcome? Would she be lost to them forever?

He pushed himself to his limits with every foe he fought. The tales out of Oslofjord told of a mad king with an army of goats, endless in number and replenished once the battle was done. He needed to slay as many as he could, as quickly as he could. He couldn't allow one soldier to stand, not if that soldier would be the one who took his life and took her away.

In the throes of battle, he forgot her decision. He could not fight at his fullest if he thought it would be for naught. He could not think that they would lose, that she would leave. He had to fight for victory and nothing less. He couldn't even think about what she might be doing with each moment that passed and every warrior he fell. He could only hope that she had fled, gotten far away from the bloodshed; to safety.

He didn't keep track of the number he slew. The world moved too fast between strikes to bother remembering. All he knew was that he ran through a sea of death, his swords running red with blood, and still more enemies stood in his way.

Killer was exhausted, but he would not fall. Every breath he took stung as he gulped in putrid air, polluted by the smoke and foul odors around him. His eyes burned from the sweat and blood, but he would not dare blink to relieve them. His arms felt heavy, weighted down with exertion, but he strained for just one more ounce of strength to slash down yet another warrior-goat.

His tunic and trousers were slashed, his hair and hands and face stained red with blood. He knew most belonged to those he butchered, but the pain he ignored in his side warned that some of it was his.

A scream rang out over the village and his head snapped up. It wasn't the first scream he heard that day and he knew it would not be the last. He had raced toward every shout and scream and alarm that day, hoping to find an enemy slain, not another of their people lost to a senseless war. Thus far, none had been an enemy, not until he ran them threw with his sword.

This time he knew better than to hope as a rumble of thunder carried over the fjord. The time for hope had run out. All he could do was continue to fight.

He found the source of the scream outside the forge. He could no longer recognize the blacksmith's face as it smoldered. His fair skin was charred deep black. His hair singed to his scalp. His clothes torn and burned to reveal seared flesh and sinew and white bone. All around the yard were slain warriors, none burned as he was. They had fallen at his sword, but the blade laid on the ground, out of his reach, shattered to the hilt. The man who inevitably defeated the smith stood among the corpses, admiring a long sword as though not in the midst of war.

Killer's anger overcame his exertion and he rushed headlong into yet another battle. The man he faced had short black hair, a wiry mustache, and dark olive skin. The cropped hair might have had him mistaken as a slave, but the fur lining his heavy orange tunic and trousers, and the thick chainmail he spied beneath, said this man was a soldier, one given far more luxury than any slave. When he turned on his heel and blocked Killer's first strike with no outward sign of effort or fear, Killer knew this man was no goat.

He had heard of the priests the king kept. His strongest warriors. They rarely tasted defeat, but Killer was determined to see that this one fell, once and for all.

As the priest held Killer's first blade against his longsword, he stared straight into Killer's eyes, wearing a wry smile as though he found great amusement in his foe. Killer growled and swung his second blade, but his opponent leaped away before he could even slice his tunic.

"I have heard of you," the priest said as he stepped away from another strike and blocked the next. "You are Jarl Eustass' cousin, are you not? You're protecting the woman we seek, but she is already lost to you. You fight for nothing. She fell into the king's hand the moment your jarl fled."

Killer said nothing and lunged for another attack. His slashes were blocked and dodged with such ease it infuriated him. He had to heed reason, though. No matter how tired he was, no matter how much his body ached, he could not fall too deeply to his own temper. He had to defeat this man. Even if all else was lost that day, if he could cripple the king's forces by just one priest, he could turn the eventual tide of war in their favor.

At least he hoped he could.

"King Enel foresaw a golden cat running for the river," the priest continued to say.

Killer had to dodge when his opponent shifted his stance and attacked, jabbing his sword toward Killer's open side. He felt the bite of steel on his skin and grimaced as one touch sent fire lancing up his side. What sort of sword was he wielding?

"If she went to the river, then my fellow priests have already taken her," the priest said as he slashed down on Killer's shoulder. Killer raised his sword and caught the strike before it could tear into him. The priest pushed down on with such force, Killer could only stand there and brace himself under the weight. He could feel his back bowing, his legs burning with effort. It took all the strength he had left to hold the man back. "If she went west, toward the mountains, then another priest will be there to await her. And if she took to the sea"—the priest smiled as thunder boomed overhead and a drop of rain splashed upon Killer's brow—"then my king will greet her, himself."

Killer grit his teeth, spun his second blade in his hand to grip it in reverse, keeping the edge out, and then slashed up. He caught the priest by surprise as the blade sliced up his side, cutting through wool and striking the mail beneath with enough force to make the man jump away, clutching his side. He drew no blood, but the strike had to leave a bruise that would hinder him, even if only for a second. Killer wasted no time sprinting at the priest and aimed a cut at the man's neck, where no mail would impede him. His slash was knocked away, but Killer expected it and answered with a jab with his second sword.

The strike went low, sliced into a vulnerable thigh. Blood stained the priest's trousers as he yelped in pain and staggered back. His opponent turned serious, his wry smile lost to a sneer, and dug his heels in to launch at Killer.

The silence that came in their battle would have been welcomed, but without the barbed words spurring his rage, Killer was left to feel the weight of every strike and block and cut. The pommel of the priest's sword struck his injured side and sent him reeling back toward the smithy. The priest took the opening as he slashed and slashed and slashed, and all Killer could do was defend every strike while losing what little ground he had.

A blade shattered like glass. The other was notched and dulled. The priest kicked him in his stomach and Killer flew into the smithy, his back slamming into the stone forge. Pain screamed up his shoulder and he lost his remaining sword. His head had smacked the stone and left him disoriented. The world spun as he tried to find his feet. He reached for a surface to brace himself on and seared his hand on the forge before falling back to the ground.

He blinked away black stars and tried to remember where he was when someone snagged the collar of his tunic. Two identical faces swam before him and blurred into one. He remembered the war he fought as he stared at the priest pulling him off the ground, but the details of his battle floated just out of his reach.

He was shoved back, a sword piercing his shoulder and a malevolent smile hovering above him. He was held to the forge, his left side pushed into the glowing embers. The scent of burned wool and hair came first, then the overpowering stench of seared flesh as the fire caught his arm, and he screamed.

The pain was blinding. Fire filled his veins, burned him to his core. The world became shrouded in shadows and flame. The sword twisted and he screamed again.

Over the crackling fire licking over his arm and side, he could hear the deep beat of drums, the rhythm blending with the earth quaking thunder of the storm upon them. A shadow coalesced above him. A somber frown reminiscent of Nami's greeted him. He was losing this battle. He was losing the one spark of hope Nami had instilled in him.

He could not fail.

With an enraged shout, he grappled with his free hand until it found the smooth shaft of the smith's hammer. He swung with strength he should not have and caught the priest on the temple. The shadows danced with the flames as the priest crashed to the floor. The smoke rising from the embers swirled with the wind blowing in through the open door. His tunic smoldered, his arm still felt as though it were aflame, but Killer set his fading sight on the disoriented priest writhing before him.

The shadow fell upon the priest at the same time Killer brought the iron hammer down on his skull in a shower of blood that glistened in the firelight.

The valkyries brought him victory with that one strike. The hammer slipped from his hand at the same time the priest collapsed for the last time, his body lifeless, save for the dying twitch of a foot.

Killer stumbled outside. The battle was not over. One victory would not turn the tide of that day. But his body trembled, his breath came ragged and short, his vision flickered in and out, and he fell to his knees in a blood red puddle. Rain poured down overhead and doused the last of the flames on his tunic. The water burned as if he had been thrust back into the fire, lit the blaze in his veins anew. His chest ached as the pain stole away his breath.

He fell forward into the mud as panic clawed at his throat. He needed to breathe. He needed to move. He needed to live.

He clawed at the mud with his good hand, tried to drag himself forward. He could hear someone splashing through puddles, stepping over rain soaked soil. They were coming toward him and the drums were beating louder, the thunder deafening him.

A leather boot stepped on his hand with a clatter of gold rings and chains that dangled from their ankle. Killer still tried to pull himself forward until the blunt end of a golden spear pressed to his forehead. He strained to adjust his eyes, fought against the fog and shadows threatening to overtake him, and peered up at whoever loomed over him.

The man was clad, head to foot, in gold that flashed bright in the lightning splitting the sky behind him. His trousers and tunic made of finely spun blue wool and trimmed with vibrant bands of twisting gold thread. His dark leather war belt was woven with golden rings to match those at his ankles and wrists. A slender gold chain hung around his neck with the hammer of Thor swaying from it. His ears were pierced with heavy gold earrings that tugged down on the flesh, stretching his earlobes to his shoulders. And his short blond hair was covered by a white cloth, trimmed with fine thread in gold and blue and orange.

He looked every bit the king he proclaimed himself to be, dressed too finely for war.

Enel's bored gaze swept around the smithy's yard. His lips tugged into the slightest of frowns as he glanced at the building behind him.

"I see you defeated Shura," he said, tone flat and apathetic. He would not shed a tear for a fallen priest. Killer doubted he cared enough to think of the man again. "I would invite you to replace him, but you are barely alive and I have another in mind already."

Killer's throat was raw, but he managed to growl.

"I suppose I should just put you out of your misery." Enel spun his spear and aimed to strike him down. Killer willed himself to move, to twist aside. He could not die there. Not that day. Not until Kid returned. "You are a fool if you think to stand against a god. You should have just handed her to me from the start."

Killer shut his eyes as the golden tip flew down at him.

"Stop," screamed a voice on the wind and lightning. Killer doubted the king would listen and waited for the spear to pierce his flesh. He waited and waited and waited, but nothing came and he could hear people approaching. "I'm already yours," the person called and Killer's eyes snapped open to see Nami there, glaring at the king with those cold eyes that made him uneasy the day before.

No, they weren't cold. They trembled with fear, no matter how hard she scowled to hide it.

"You've won. There is no more need of this butchery," Nami said, her hands clenched at her sides to mask how they shook.

The king's weight left his hand, but the spear still hovered in front of his face. A warning. If he moved, he was dead.

"Lady Nami," Enel greeted. "I am glad to see you have more sense than these wolves pretending to be your guardians." He stepped toward her and laughed, his bored expression broken with the unexpected moment of cheer. "You were right to give in to your fear. If you had done otherwise it would have been annoying."

Nami pursed her lips and stubbornly held the king's gaze. Her face was pale, her eyes rimmed red, but she forced herself to stand tall and strong.

"Since you have surrendered yourself, then let's leave. I promised to have you in Oslo before nightfall," Enel said as he turned for the dock.

"I have a chest packed in the hall," Nami said.

Enel glanced over her and nodded to the men that lingered near her. "Fetch her chest," he ordered.

"My cloak, too," Nami added.

The bald man bowed his head and spun toward the hall while Enel began to lead the rest away. Nami spared him a quick look. He saw the muscles around her jaw twitch, her hands squeezed tight, and he was left to wonder if the water trailing over her cheek was a tear or the rain.

"Wait, King Enel," a man bellowed, approaching from the western woods.

Enel looked back with a curious hum. His brow rose as Ove came into view, a bloody axe in hand and the broken shafts of three arrows jutting from his shoulder. His gaze was hard on the king, his grip tight around the axe shaft, and Enel turned to face him fully.

"Do we have another foolish wolf seeking to fight me?" Enel mused. "It's futile. You should follow your lady's example and give up."

Ove sneered. "I'm not here to fight you. I'm here to join you."

"Ove," Killer growled, digging his fingers into the mud as he glared at the Dane.

"Join me?" Enel cocked his head to the side and lifted a brow.

"I understand you will recruit any that can defeat your priests," Ove said as he reached behind his back and tossed a head at the King.

Nami failed to stifle her gasp as the head rolled through the mud toward them. Enel stared with the same apathetic gaze he wore when he spied Shura's fallen body in the smith. The head wore an expression of frozen shock, his dark eyes wide and mouth gaping. His dark skin was ashen with death. His thick coiled hair soaked with fresh blood and rain.

"Gedatsu," Enel muttered.

"I defeated your priest and still stand." Ove nodded toward Killer, pointing out that he was unable to stand after his victory. Killer sneered and wished he could feel his limbs long enough to find his feet again. "I wish to replace him."

"Normally I would rejoice such an offer," Enel said, narrowing his cold gaze on Ove. "But this is war and I know you wolves are loyal to your leader. Why should I trust that your interest is genuine? For all I know, you will bury your axe in my skull the moment I turn my back to you."

"My leader abandoned us to fight this war alone. A war we would not have to face if not for his decision to bring that witch into his hall." Ove pointed his axe toward Nami and sneered at her. She glared back. "He took on a curse when he brought her under his protection. He has shown that he is not strong enough to break it, and I feel no loyalty to a man so weak."

Nami's eyes widened before she bowed her head to hide the pained expression Killer caught flickering over her face. The corner of Enel's mouth tugged into the slightest smirk, but he said nothing.

"I am a mercenary. My loyalty is to gold and strength, and from what I have gathered this day, you have an abundance of both. If you still think to mistrust my intentions, then I will make a deal with you. If I should ever betray you, no matter how slight the infraction, you may take my right hand as blood payment," Ove offered.

Enel threw his head back with a long laugh while Nami chewed on her lip and tried to mask the quivering of her hands. Killer could do nothing but watch, powerless to stop Ove or ease Nami's fears.

"I am no great wolf, but I cannot refuse such an offer. All right, you may join my ranks as a new priest," Enel agreed, just as the bald priest returned with Nami's chest hoisted on his shoulder and her cloak in his grasp. "Satori," the king addressed the portly, red-haired priest, "send word to the rest of the army that the battle is won. Order them to return to Oslofjord at once."

The priest bowed his agreement and unstrapped a war horn that hung from his belt. He walked off bellowing short blasts into the horn, signaling the troops still battling throughout the fjord.

"If you survive your wounds, pass a message to your jarl," Enel said, staring down at him. "I will claim this village and land as my own. He will bend his knee, enforce my laws, and collect my taxes from the people here. If he insists on rebelling my rule, then I will see him hanged. Lady Nami's surrender has bought this village a reprieve, do not let your jarl spit in the face of her decision and squander my mercy."

He did not wait for Killer to acknowledge him as he walked toward the fjord. The bald priest followed after him, but Nami and Ove hung back, both staring after the king.

"I'm sorry," Nami whispered, her eyes squeezed shut. "Please don't die, Killer."

He groaned and tried to respond, but his voice stuck in his throat. Nami spun away to hurry after the king, her head still bowed. Exhaustion overtook him as he watched her go. His vision grew foggy and dark until all he could see was the fire of her hair on the wind.

Footsteps splashed in the puddles around him as the world turned black. His body still screamed in pain, but the blissful darkness made him unaware of everything beyond the hand touching his head.

"You fought well. Now rest for the battles ahead," a man whispered. "She will be well cared for until then."

A falcon cried out overhead. His consciousness faded with the next rumble of thunder, his final thought a prayer for the gods to stay with her until they could find her again.

---

The afternoon grew late as he sat atop his perch on the wall. The people went about their days in the village below, but every so often, they stopped to gaze toward the hills and fjord, anticipating the return of their king and his army. He had thought to join the forces sent with the king to Drafn, but he had no interest in Enel's wars. He had his own plans and it would be best to reserve his strength for the day he needed it.

And he wanted to observe these giants that came for the young lady he sought.

Corazon had spent the day piecing together what interest these men could have in her. He tried to strike up a conversation with their leader, Chew, but he took one glimpse at the cross hanging from his neck and turned away with a sneer of disgust. His attempt at questioning the other giants was met with the same reaction. Fortunately, he was not spit upon, the day could have turned ugly if they had, but he could see the desire in their eyes to show their disgust with more than coldness. It appeared they held as much contempt for the Christian faith encroaching on the northern lands as the king did.

Yet they so freely worked with the rat, Nezumi. Corazon stepped carefully around the merchant lord, unwillingly to betray his disguise too soon, but he took it upon himself to eavesdrop as often as he could. He learned enough about the relationship between the giants and rats to know that gold and jewels were Nezumi's gods. He was a Christian in name only.

Corazon found him far more contemptible than most of Christians he had known.

He gave up his attempt at gathering information when he heard the scream of a falcon over the fjord. It was pointless to worry about the giants loitering about the hall. He would learn about their jarl from Lady Nami when she arrived and judge if he would be an obstacle later.

He journeyed out to the yard to watch the falcon fly over the village. No one bothered to look up, none thought much of a single bird among many. But Corazon had seen a falcon watching over Drafn and knew it for the herald it was. When the bird swooped down to perch on the intricate dragon's head looming over the entrance to the king's hall, he knew that the battle was won and the amber-haired woman would be there soon.

He kept his excitement to himself as he climbed the wooden stairs leading to the hall's watch towers. McKinley's guards scrutinized him but said nothing as he found the highest perch he could and stared out over the water.

She was so close to being in his grasp. He would have to hold to patience a while longer, but he was one step closer to his ultimate objective.

From his perch on the turret's eave, Corazon could see the rest of McKinley's forces sweeping through the village. Many stood sentinel at the docks while others stopped to speak with wary villagers. All kept a hand on the hilt of a sword or axe, their backs straight and stiff. He had noticed that the guards around the hall were armed, even those not on duty at the gate. They paced within the main reception room, keeping a watchful eye on their guests.

They were anticipating the king's return as much as he was.

He was not surprised to hear the first signal horn echo off the islands in the fjord. He remained on his perch while the village came to life. McKinley stood at the dock and bellowed into his own horn, returning the signal with two short blasts. One of the guards left the gate to announce the king's impending arrival to the guests. They all filed out of the hall shortly after, Chew leading the way with a pursed frown.

"He better have her," he heard the giant mutter to Nezumi. "I have no more patience left in this search."

"I'm sure he was successful," Nezumi promised. His tittering laugh sounded nervous.

"If he failed to find her there, it will be your head, not mine, so you better hope he was successful," Chew said. Nezumi laughed again, the sound weak and pitiful. "Kuroobi is right. This woman is more trouble than she's worth."

"But Jarl Arlong needs her if he hopes to conquer Normandy and Francia. She is a valuable asset, even if an annoying one," Nezumi reminded before they got too far for Corazon to hear the rest of their conversation.

So, he seeks to conquer Normandy? He might be a useful pawn, as well, Corazon thought to himself.

Another horn blast came louder as the giants and rats and soldiers congregated around the water's edge. Corazon waited until they were all in place before climbing down from the wall. He kept his head down, veiled by the hood of his black cloak, as he slipped between villagers. Unlike the soldiers and giants, the villagers quietly made their way from the main square and marketplace. Children were gathered and shushed, wares packed away and hoisted onto backs. Doors shut and an eerie silence overtook Oslo's center.

Corazon lingered away from the others, just up the slope from the docks and beach, to watch as the first serpentine figurehead appeared. One by one, Enel's fleet rounded the bend. Corazon felt the four ships were unnecessary for the battle, especially considering the forces he sent to Drafn by way of land, but Enel wouldn't have listened to him if he voiced his opinion, so he kept it to himself. The excessive show of force at least led them to a swift victory, ensuring that Enel kept his promise of returning before nightfall.

He strained his eyes to see the occupants of Enel's longship. The king stood near the stern while Ohm steered the ship toward the dock. He spied her seated in front of the king, just to his left, her head bowed and cloak wrapped tight around her shoulders to protect her from the drizzling rain that hung over the bay after an earlier storm, but the bright orange hair was unmistakable.

Chew recognized her in an instant and muscled his way between Enel's militia to stand at the end of the dock, his scowl deepening. As the ship drew close enough for Corazon to make out expressions, he noticed Enel say something before Nami's head snapped up. Her eyes widened in shock and horror, then turned somber and resigned, and then cold as ice, her emotions sealed away in the face of the giants that claimed her as their own.

Corazon crept in closer.

"Nami," Chew called to her. "I hope you have been well."

His greeting was insincere, another meaning to his words that Nami surely understood judging by the harsh glare she sent him. Enel only laughed at the chilly exchange.

As his men secured his ship, Enel disembarked first, followed by Ohm and a man with lavender hair Corazon remembered seeing in Drafn. He was supposed to be one of Jarl Eustass', but he didn't appear to be a captive of any sort. He didn't acknowledge Nami's existence as Corazon would have expected. He ignored her as he climbed out ahead of her, by all accounts treating her far colder than Corazon had witnessed among Eustass' men. A traitor, then?

Nami came last, helped onto the dock by McKinley's outstretched hand. The militia captain waved her toward Chew and she grew resigned again as she stepped into place beside the king.

Corazon noticed that Nami was finely dressed. Her hair was braided and tied back, though the battle had left bits to fall loose. Her fair complexion was smudged with dirt and blood, and her lower lip seemed swollen, even from a distance. She appeared as someone who had expected to greet royalty that day and dressed appropriately, leaving him to wonder if she had anticipated Enel's coming. The king had mentioned that her clan was known to have foresight, just as he claimed to have. Perhaps she foresaw the battle.

"As promised, I have returned with the Lady Nami," Enel said, speaking loud enough for all to hear. "The wolves are defeated for the moment, and Drafn is as good as mine."

"I congratulate you on your victory," Chew said without inflection, his whole attention on Nami. "We will leave you and your troops to celebrate. We have a long journey back to Tingstad and I do not wish to keep Arlong waiting any longer."

Corazon watched Nami's shoulders straighten. Her chin tilted up in a show of arrogance, while her gaze remained dark. Whatever fear or sadness she felt was hidden once more.

"Has he taken my absence out on the village again?" she asked, her tone sharp and rebuking.

"Not the whole village." Chew smiled for the first time as Nami flinched noticeably. "Only the people that matter."

She recovered quickly and curled her lip in an ugly sneer. She stepped forward with her fists balled tight and prepared to say something else to Chew. Enel raised a hand to cut her off and gracefully stepped in her way, his gaze on the giant.

"This bickering is pointless," Enel interjected. "And you will not be going anywhere this night."

Chew and Nami both turned shocked looks toward the king.

"I do not have the time to waste in this village any longer. I need to return her to her rightful home," Chew argued.

Enel smiled. "It seems there has been a misunderstanding," he said before shifting his weight. Chew had no time to understand what was happening. None of the giants or rats could anticipate Enel's actions soon enough to stop him. In the blink of an eye, Enel's golden spear pierced through Chew's bowels. "I merely stated that I would fetch the girl. I never said anything about you leaving with her," Enel explained as Chew gasped and clutched at the spear impaling him.

Enel twisted the spear and Chew cried out in pain as fresh blood flowed over a golden shaft. The sharp tip of the spear thrust out of the giant's back with one push and Chew coughed up more blood.

Nami stood by, mouth agape in shock.

To Corazon's delight, chaos erupted upon the beach and docks.

The traitor from Drafn grasped Nami and yanked her back as men from the ship gathered around them with shields locked tight in a wall. The warriors on the other ships stood with arrows knocked and let loose on the giants and rats milling about the beach, while McKinley's militia laid into more with swords and axes and spears.

There was no battle, only butchery. The sea ran red with the blood of fish and rats, the sand and rocks of the beach stained to match.

Corazon watched the slaughter patiently until he noticed a man crawling on his stomach through the sand. Nezumi's face was covered in blood, but he appeared uninjured. The coward was abandoning his own men and allies to save his own skin. He was even worse than a rat.

Too panicked to pay attention to his surroundings, Nezumi scrambled out of the throng of warriors and dying men without looking up once. Corazon stopped his escape with a boot to his head. Nezumi let out a frightened squeak as Corazon slowly drew his sword and flinched away from the blade as he teased it over the man's cheek.

"I see I've found a rat fleeing the sinking ship," Corazon mused.

Nezumi slowly gazed up at him with a nervous smile. "Please… Please spare me. Have mercy on my soul." He grasped Corazon's ankle and tugged at his trousers. "Please, I beg of you. I will reward you with all the gold you could desire, just please let me leave unharmed."

Corazon nicked him with his sword as he hummed in thought. The chaos was beginning to calm as the last bodies fell into the sea.

A bay of dead fish. Just as Enel foresaw.

"Please," Nezumi squeaked. "Please. Please. Please…"

"Corazon," Enel called to him, distracting him from the pathetic, whimpering man groveling at his feet. "What have you there?"

"Just a rat," he responded as he looked up to see the king approaching. Nami was trembling behind him, her wide eyes taking in the carnage around her. Bodies littered the beach and sea. People she once knew and lived with, even if in captivity, were dead or dying at the hands of a fearsome king.

But then her gaze cast up to him and she froze in place. The Drafn traitor ran into her back and growled at her, giving her a hard shove to snap her from her surprise.

She shouldn't recognize him. He had been in a monk's robes in England, not Danish clothes and a feathered cloak. The fear and uncertainty in her gaze told him that she might still see him for who he was, or at least be suspicious. The druid had warned him of this, too.

Taking a risk, Corazon cast off the hood of his cloak and smiled at the woman. Her breath caught, her eyes searched his face, a glimmer of confusion mixed with recognition in her gaze.

Nezumi gasped at his feet. "Trafalgar…"

Corazon kicked him in the face to silence him. Blood flowed from a split lip as Nezumi sneered up at him, but he wisely held his tongue. He was at his mercy, after all.

"Why have you not killed the rat?" Enel asked, his brow cocked.

"I was just thinking—rats have their uses," he explained. Enel's head tilted to the side in silent question. "I much prefer frogs for dissection, but a rat makes for decent study."

Nezumi's face paled at his words.

"I wish to keep him alive for a while. If you mean to use my skills as a healer in the future, it would be wise not to grow lax in my practice. When I am finished with him, I will dispose of him," Corazon said.

Enel chuckled. "Do what you want, then," he said, waving him off as he began to climb the hill toward his hall. "McKinley will find you some fetters. Once you have secured him as you need to, then feel free to join us in the hall for a meal tonight."

The invitation was surprising, but Corazon would not turn down a chance to speak with Lady Nami. Before Corazon could accept the invitation, Enel laughed, the joyous sound echoing throughout the village.

"Tonight, we celebrate my victory," he called out, eliciting cheers from his soldiers. Corazon watched as Nami followed Enel, despondent and emotionless. Her gaze flickered to him as she passed and her frown grew suspicious, but Enel's next announcement prevented her from speaking to him. "As well as the arrival of my new priestess—the woman who will be queen."

Corazon shared in Nami's shock as they stared after the king's back.

It seemed fleeing Noreg with her would be more difficult than he first thought.

---

Nami stood in the reception room of Enel's hall, staring in awe at the gilded walls and rafters. She had never seen so much gold.

"Magnificent, isn't it," Enel said, though his tone didn't speak of the same awe she felt. He could have been commenting on the weather, his voice was so droll. "This is hardly all you need to see."

She shook out of her stupor as Enel walked ahead and hurried to catch up. He led her through a narrow hall, decorated with fine tapestries of serpents flying through lightning streaked skies. Golden sconces along the wall provided light and warmth. He pointed out the hall's food stores and the room dedicated as a kitchen. He didn't want his servants to be seen in the reception hall unless they were serving their meal, not as they were preparing it. The large room was bursting with activity, servants rushing in and out as they hurried to make all the dishes of Enel's feast. They kept their heads bowed and avoided the king's gaze as they passed. One walked out with a fruit laden tray and Enel snatched an apple on their way by.

Guest chambers were found near the back, two large open spaces that appeared to be rarely used. The rooms were dark and smelled of dust, but Nami could see chests lined along the walls and pallets without bedding. There were tables with empty basins and chamber pots, candle holders without candles, and no decorations to speak of.

"The former king invited more guests into this hall," Enel explained as he continued through a door that led out into a courtyard filled with rowan trees, their white flowers blooming among bright red berries. Roofed walkways split from a back porch, buttressed by intricately carved and painted pillars in the forms of falcons and dragons and serpents. "I prefer to house guests away from my property. Your sea giants were kept in the stables and Corazon resides in the former king's farm house."

"Why do you keep the rooms, then? Why not use them for other purposes?" Nami dared to ask.

"If I find another purpose for them, then I will use them." He shrugged and then gestured toward a walkway on the left. "There is a bathhouse and outhouse that way. A walkway is built from there to the hall with your quarters, but there is a chamber pot and tub in your rooms if you do not wish to make the trek in the winter."

The thought of being there through the winter created a hollow pit in her stomach. She hoped she would not have to stay here for that long.

Enel pointed to the right walkway. "The hall my priests reside in is that way. They have a separate bathhouse, so you have no need to worry about them invading ours."

"Ours?" she asked, prompting him to look over his shoulder at her with a raised brow. "If I am a new priestess, should I not be with the priests?"

"No, you will reside in my hall." He pointed down the center path. "There are additional quarters I have not seen fit to use, but I feel would suit your station better than the priests' hall."

He turned down the walkway and left her with no other choice but to follow. She wasn't happy with the thought of residing so close to the king, not after his announcement in the square. What could he have possibly meant by proclaiming her a future queen? He couldn't possibly mean—

"King Enel?" she prompted, hoping her voice wasn't trembling as much as she thought it was.

"Hmm?"

"About my station—you said that I will be your new priestess, but also the future queen? What do you mean by that?"

"If you are asking if I mean to marry you, the answer is no," he explained flatly. "For now, you only need to concern yourself with your duties as my priestess. I can tell that you still have much to learn about your magic. Once you have reached your full potential, then I shall crown you queen."

"If I will be queen, but unmarried to you, then what will happen to you? You do not strike me as the type to hand over power so easily." She knew this man was supposed to be mad, but she couldn't even begin to comprehend his thought process. "Would I be a consort?"

"When you become queen, you will rule beneath me," he answered unhelpfully. "And I will truly be a god."

This man was insane if he thought himself a god.

"It was not long ago that our people bowed to those closest to the gods. Kings and Earls and Jarls, they did not exist as they do today. The chieftains were the god-speakers, the law-makers. The vǫlur, such as your family, were revered and respected, given seats of great honor in every hall they visited. They were not expected to marry, though some did find warlords to bind themselves to in matrimony if they desired it. Your clan was born of a great goddess and a man who would have been king if not for the tragic fate he met. In an act of devotion to Hnoss' loss, your foremothers shunned all thoughts of marriage, refusing to be tied down to any that would not compare to the standards of the man who gave his life for their matriarch."

She gasped in surprise at hearing him speak of the tale that should be known to no one but herself and those she chose to tell. "How do you know of that tale?"

"My great-great grandfather was a sire for your clan. He was the one who attempted to destroy the Christians in Birka in honor of your family," he explained. "It may be distant, but we are cousins and I have seen and heard far more than you have on this subject."

They came into a hall as grand and opulent as the main building, with a large sitting room decorated in silk and gold to greet them. Enel passed through to a passageway that branched off in two directions. "My chambers are that way," he said, pointing to the right before turning to the left. A servant greeted them outside the door to her quarters. "There should be a basin with water for you to clean up. Ohm should be bringing your clothes shortly, but I've already had my servants gather new dresses for you to wear. You need to dress in finer garb befitting one of my priests, not such humble wool your wolf provided."

Nami pursed her lips at the slight toward Kid, but restrained the impulse to defend him, nodding politely. "I would be honored to wear anything you so graciously provide."

Enel chuckled as he led her into the room and threw himself onto a cushioned bench in the sitting room. He reclined back as she took in the silk tapestries and gold accents. Jewels hung from the ceiling and scattered the candlelight so that tiny rainbows danced over the walls. It was as though she were in the middle of a treasure chest.

"As I was saying earlier," Enel spoke up as she peeked through a door to find a gilded bedroom with a large, fur-covered bed. The posts were carved with flowers and vines, reaching up to an ornately painted wooden canopy. "Your ancestry is of the gods, more than any other vǫlva or royal family can claim. Through the connection between our clans, you can boast ancestry to Thor, with the very power of lightning running through your veins. And I have no doubt that other sires have ties to other gods. You are the embodiment of the Vanir, and their marriage to the Aesir. There is no one closer to the gods than you, and thus you are most fit to be queen."

"And then what will you do as God?" she asked as she went to the table with a basin of water. A bar of soap sat beside it that had a sweet, tangy scent that rekindled memories of her childhood.

Jarl Genzo had returned from a trip to Hedeby with a basket of bright orange fruit. He had traded with some Andalusian merchants for them to give to Bellemere, who had grown fond of the fruit during her time in Francia. Nami had heard of the fruit, the apples from China, but the climate in the north was too inhospitable for the fruit trees to take, so it was rare to find. One taste was all it took for her to fall in love with the citrus fruit. It might as well have been made of gold, though, for how difficult it was to attain.

Of course a king with such a gilded hall would have orange scented soap. Everything in his hall spoke of wealth she once could only dream of.

"As God," Enel called to her, breaking her from a moment of nostalgia, "I will take you on a journey to find a new kingdom."

"A journey?" she asked, her voice pitched high in surprise. She couldn't go on a journey, not with him. She needed to stay there and wait for Kid to find her again.

"I have seen the endless lands to the west," Enel explained. "Have you heard the tales of Erik the Red's son, Leif? They claim that he found lands further west from Greenland and named them Vinland, but they speak nothing of the lands beyond it, further south and west. I have seen that there are great stretches of endless earth, fertile and ripe for use. I will find these lands and create a colony for you to rule over as queen. You will lead armies in my name, conquer all the lands before you, and raise up a kingdom more powerful than the old empires of Rome and the Byzantines. I will be venerated as the God that gave you and your people such a gift, the one who led you to glory, and thus a new cult will be born that worships me as their one true sovereign."

"What of our gods? What of our ancestors here in the north? Will you not insult them by raising yourself above them?" she asked before cleaning the filth and blood of battle from her face and hands. She could use a hot bath, but the basin was refreshing enough.

"They will have no say in this new kingdom. We will be out of their reach. And by that time, I will have proved myself worthy of such a title. I will have restored their beloved daughter to the glory she should have known from birth, shattered the curse that laid waste to her family, and garnered her support for my journey. With you at my side, no god or mortal shall stand in my way."

So, she would be used for his own aspirations. He thought to shatter the curse, but he was just another man in a long line of men that sought to use her for his own selfish desires. He would call her queen and gift her with gold and jewels, but she would be no better than a slave in his eyes.

"All you expect of me is to lead a new religion in your name? You have no other desires for me?" she asked, drying her face as she stepped into the sitting room.

Enel cocked a brow. "I have concubines to see to my baser needs, if that is what you fear I will ask of you. And if I married you, that would elevate you to a goddess, and I have no need of a goddess. I need only a queen to command my armies and a priestess to pay tribute to me."

That much was a relief, though she remained wary of his intentions. He could be lying, or perhaps his desires would change in the future. "And what will you do?"

He smiled. "I will be free to do whatever I please and nothing less." Enel stood from the bench and made his way to the door. "I will leave you to finish preparing for the feast."

Nami let out a relieved breath once she was alone, only the servant quietly standing in the corner to keep her company. The woman had silky blonde hair tied in two twisting coils that hung long over her shoulders. Her fair skin was cleaner than the other servants she saw in the main hall, and her soft pink dress made of well-spun wool, with red flowers embroidered along the left side of the bodice and skirt did not fit with the plain, rough spun dresses the others wore.

"What is your name?" Nami asked the woman.

"Conis, my lady," she answered with a genuinely kind smile.

"You do not look like any normal servant. Are you a free-woman?"

Conis nodded, then pursed her lips. "The king desired a higher class of handmaiden for you. McKinley has heard me play my lyre while my father worked and recommended me to King Enel. There was no refusing him when he summoned for me last night."

"Where did you sleep last night? Has he provided you chambers nearby?"

Conis shook her head. "I slept with the other servants. They have a small shelter just off the main hall, out of sight, that the king keeps them in." Nami hummed in thought as she saw the sadness in her servant's eyes. The woman wrung her hands in front of her and gestured toward the bedroom. "Shall I help you dress? King Enel will be disappointed if his new priestess wore such soiled clothes to his feast."

Nami did not want to imagine what that disappointment would entail. "Thank you," she said, smiling.

Once stripped of her soiled dress, Nami sat on a stool and washed away more of the grim and blood that clung to her arms while Conis took down her hair to comb. The tension of the day ebbed with every gentle sweep of the comb, but did nothing to stop the loneliness of her situation from creeping in. She might be surrounded by all the treasure she could ever desire, but the gold may well be tarnished steel, the gems plain stones. Without her friends, they meant nothing to her.

She ran her fingers over her gold bracelet, searching for the strength she needed to face this test on her own, and then the largest of amber stones set into her leather bracelet, vowing to find her way to freedom once again. She could not break. She could not waver. She would find a way, even if she was alone. And she would have faith that her friends would find their own way without her. If fate was kind, if she walked her path, then she was certain that she would see them all again.

"Conis," she said as the handmaid finished sprinkling braids among the thick waves of her hair. "I want you to sleep in here from now on."

"Excuse me, Lady Nami. In here?"

"I don't like sleeping alone, and I have more need of a friend than a handmaiden," she explained. "You seem like a kind woman that I can rely on in this strange place."

"You would trust me as a friend?"

"Of course." She tilted her head back so Conis could see her smile. "I have a good feeling about you." She turned forward again with a wistful sigh. "Anyway, even if I did not trust you, I hear it is common for handmaidens to remain close to their mistresses, in case you're needed in the middle of the night. If you don't feel comfortable sharing a bed with me, then I can arrange for a pallet to be placed in the sitting room. Either way, I'd prefer to have you here."

"Then, I would be happy to stay in here with you."

"Good," Nami chirped, spinning on her stool. "Let's find me a dress to wear so I can join this feast the king has planned. I could do with a strong cup of mead after the day I've had."

Conis gave her a sympathetic smile and nodded before going to search through the trunks tucked into a corner of the room. Ohm came with her chest of clothes as she slipped into a white linen shift, but she had already chosen an overdress from what Enel provided. She would be wise to play the part of an agreeable hostage for as long as she could. She had done as much for years under Arlong, she could do it again for Enel.

The overdress she chose was light blue with long sleeves and a scooped neck. Gold and green lined the collar and ran down the center of the bodice to end at her navel. More of the intricate threadwork followed the seams at her shoulders and down the sleeves. At the hem of her dress, where the heavy wool billowed and folded, embroidered flowers and vines swirled around her ankles.

It was the finest dress she had ever worn, but not the finest she glimpsed within the trunks. Enel's treasure was so vast, he had acquired an abundance of silk and lace. She even spied a gown that glittered with as much gold as his home and nearly felt her heart stop at the thought of wearing it. In the past, she would have immediately leaped at the chance to wear something fit for queens and empresses around the world, but held hostage in a mad king's hall, to wear such a dress felt silly and vain.

The style of the overdress didn't require her brooches and beads as apron skirts did, but Conis found a fur pelt dyed deep blue to drape over her shoulders and used her brooches to fasten it in place. She then sat Nami down to finish her hair, clipping the slender braids into a makeshift crown while leaving the rest of her hair to cascade down her back in bright amber waves. She retied the strings of gold and amber she had worn before so that they fell with the rest of her hair.

"I think the king will be pleased," Conis remarked as she fussed with the beads. "You will glitter as brightly as the treasure in his hall."

Nami took a deep breath and prepared herself to face the king again. She would play her part flawlessly. He would find no weakness in her. He would not see the tears she held in her heart. She would stand strong and live for her better tomorrow.

Conis accompanied her to the main hall once she was ready. The afternoon had turned to evening, with the late twilight slowly setting upon the fjord. Candles glittered off gold to guide them toward the feast. In the main hall, they found the center hearth filled with a roaring flame that made the room glow even brighter than when she first entered. Enel's army milled about tables, sharing trenches of meat and stew as they conversed among themselves. The conversation created a low din, but it was nothing like the uproarious feasts Kid held in his hall. There was no song, no joyous laughter, no bawdy tales, no games. It was as if she were back in Arlong's hall, alone in a room full of people.

"Nami," Enel called from the dais with his grand throne. He sat at a table alone while priests took seats at tables to his right and left, elevated above the soldiers, but still lower than the king. Enel waved her to his table with a lazy air of casualness unfit for a noble. A servant woman stood at one side with a bowl of fruit, and on the other side stood a woman with a pitcher in hand. "Let me see you," he commanded once she stood before his table, twirling his finger to signal that she spin. "Now you look as Freyja and Hnoss' daughter ought to appear," he said as she slowly turned for his inspection. "A true jewel that no mortal man is worthy of possessing."

"Do you not believe yourself to be mortal?" she asked.

Enel cocked his head. "I am invincible, but once I pass this test before me, I shall become worthy of eating Idunn's apples." He laughed as he turned toward the servant holding the fruit and crooked a finger. The woman picked a slice of apple and held it out for him to pluck from her fingers with his mouth. He grinned as he chewed. "In the meantime, I satisfy myself with the mortal variety, among other fruits. I understand they are good for one's health."

She bit her tongue to hold back her comment on his mortality. Idunn's apples gave the gods youth, but without them, they would shrivel and die as anyone would. And even with their gifts, they still bled, could still be killed, even if it took the might of gods or giants or ferocious monsters to slay them.

Enel waved toward the table on his left. "You may sit with your fellow priest," he said and she turned to see Ove at the table he assigned her. He glowered at her and she glared right back. She refused to sit with a traitor, even if she might very well be one herself. At least she hadn't insulted Kid when she agreed to go with Enel. The one familiar face in the room, and she couldn't stand to look at the man. "I thought you would appreciate the company of a friend," Enel mused. "But it seems there is more animosity between you two than I thought."

"It's fine," Nami bit out, gathering her skirts and stomping over to the open seat at the table. She held Ove's hard gaze as she threw herself into the chair and didn't hide her sneer. "I am perfectly capable of being civil with a vile brute like him."

Enel cackled. "Well, you have been living with a pack of wolves. I suppose you can learn to play nice with a beast when you need to."

Nami turned her face away from Ove as Conis brought her a bowl of fish soup in a buttercream broth and a plate of bread and cheese. It appeared the priests did not have to share their meals and were given richer food. As Conis poured her a cup of sharp scented mead, Nami felt Ove lean closer. She clenched her jaw and refused to acknowledge him.

"You should mind you tongue, Lady Nami," he hissed under his breath. The coldness in his tone was tinged with carefully restrained anger that sent a shiver down her spine. He may have once lived in the same hall as she did, but he was no longer a friend. She would not show him her fear, either.

"Do you presume to threaten me, Ove?" she bit back. "To think this is your true self. I'm repulsed that you once dared to call Kid your friend." She heard him growl and snapped her head toward him, eyes narrowed as she felt her temper thin rapidly. "I hope the king takes your hand one day," she hissed. "Though you deserve far worse."

She saw his eyes flinch, his shoulders tensed, and his right hand balled into a fist on the table beside her. He sneered and then lost all the tension with a quiet hiss as he turned away from her. She hadn't realized how tense she had become until that moment, when her body relaxed. He didn't seem willing to speak to her again, so she took the silence as a signal to return to her meal.

"I broke an oath," Ove whispered after a moment. "I will lose my hand or my head, no matter what happens." He leaned in close again and her back straightened as the urge to flee came to her. "So, mind your tongue around me. You are here to dress up like the spoiled princess you have always believed yourself to be. I am here for war and nothing less. You play your part, and leave me to play mine, priestess."

His words made her heart ache. Kid had put his faith in this man, but he so easily turned his back to him. And worse yet, it was her fault. She could only hope that the others they left behind in Drafn were as loyal as she thought them to be. Kid needed his army. He would not win if any others deserted him.

She swallowed down her pain and the urge to cry as she took a drink of the mead Conis brought her. It was biting and strong, not as sweet as she preferred, but hopefully it would help her forget the losses of the day. She would mourn the deaths she witnessed, and those she didn't, only in her heart. No one there would see her sorrow and guilt.

Her meal smelled delicious, but it was tasteless on her tongue. She forced herself to eat it, nonetheless, while downing as much mead as she could. She was picking through a plate of sweetened cloudberries when the front doors opened to reveal the last party to join them—the strangely familiar man Enel had called Corazon.

He went straight for Enel's dais with the confident air of a man who belonged there, though Enel had said he was a guest, housed on one of the islands. His hair fell to his shoulders, tied back with a simple leather cord, and appeared black in the shadows, but as the light of the hearth and sconces hit him, she could see that it was a deep, midnight blue. His jaw was framed by a neatly trimmed beard, a tuft of groomed hair covered his chin. He had a handsome face, with its rich olive skin that made the gold of his eyes stand out as bright as the gold rings piercing his ears. He was tall, nearly as tall as Kid, so far as she could tell from a distance, and was dressed in dark trousers and tunic, trimmed with yellow and orange, and bore a cloak with black feathers sewn over his shoulders. His appearance and manner spoke of simple wealth and noble breeding.

She knew that she had never seen his face before, but there was something that struck her as familiar when she saw him. A shiver ran down her spine when his eyes met hers for a fleeting moment. His lips tugged into a lopsided smirk and he nodded a greeting to her before setting his whole attention on the king lounging carelessly in his throne as servant women fed him.

"King Enel, I apologize for my tardiness," he said, his tone insincere.

"Did you have trouble securing Nezumi?" Enel asked, though he didn't sound like he cared one whit about the fate of the merchant lord.

"The man is a weakling. It was no trouble getting him into the fetters. But his mouth is annoying and it took some time to find an adequate muzzle," Corazon explained. "I also visited Pagaya to see if he could forge a suitable cage for Nezumi. Rats can be crafty and gnaw through wood. I would feel more comfortable at night if my specimen was locked away behind iron bars."

Enel chuckled. "I will have to visit your home to see the results of these studies you undertake. I am especially interested in seeing his muzzle."

"I will tell him to look forward to it." Corazon's own chuckle was raspy and sinister. Nami felt another shiver trail down her spine. "Pagaya was curious how his daughter was faring in your hall, as well. I said I would send along a message wishing her well in her responsibilities to you."

"You would be better served asking Lady Nami about her new handmaiden. I believe there is room enough at her table, you may sit with her and Ove," Enel said, gesturing toward her.

Corazon inclined his head toward the king and spun on his heel to join them. Servants rushed to place a chair on the end beside her. Conis reappeared with a fresh flagon of mead to pour Corazon a cup. His smile and grateful nod appeared more genuine than the smirk he shared with her. He took a sip of his drink while more servants brought him his meal. He held up a hand when they set down his plate of bread and cheese.

"No bread," he stated.

"I will take it if he will not eat it," Ove said, waving for the servants to bring him the plate. "Another rasher of pork, if you have it, too."

The servants nodded in acquiescence and ran off to heed his request. Ove continued to ignore her as he dug into his new food, leaving her to sit uncomfortably with this strange man at her side.

"I did not get to introduce myself earlier," Corazon said.

"I have already heard your name, there is no need for introduction," Nami interrupted.

"I suppose that's true," Corazon chuckled. "Conis appears well. Her father was worried for her. She has never been away from his home."

"I understand it's only been a night, but for a parent a night may as well be an eternity," Nami said, forcing herself to remain polite as she tried to understand the unease in her heart sitting so close to this man. "She told me that she spent the night with the other servants. I've invited her to remain in my quarters with me. When you see her father again, please tell him that I will not mistreat his daughter. She will be a friend to me."

Corazon smiled, a glint of amusement in his gold eyes. "A friend? Your speech seems harsh, but you have a gentle spirit."

"And your speech seems rude, but I have yet to determine the nature of your spirit," she retorted.

He laughed as he took a bite of the fish in his soup. "You have been looking at me with suspicion since you arrived, yet you do not know me. Why is that?"

"There is something familiar about you," she said, deciding it better to be straightforward with him. "I do not know your face, but when I see you, the hairs on my arm stand on end, as if I've met you before, even if only at a distance."

Corazon hummed around another bite. He held her gaze, his amusement not waning one bit. "Where might we have met?" he asked.

She pursed her lips in thought. There was only one person she had met recently that left her so uneasy, and she had not seen his face. "Have you been to Britain?"

His brow arched. "I have."

"How recently?"

He chuckled. "I cannot answer that accurately. It has been some time."

His vague response pricked at her temper, but she carefully leashed it. "How recently did you arrive in Oslofjord?"

"I suppose… a little more than a week ago is when I arrived," Corazon answered.

"And where were you before that?"

He chuckled again. "I feel as though I am being interrogated for a crime I do not remember committing."

"Answer the question," she demanded.

All his mirth left him as he turned a cold glare onto her. His gaze was sharp enough to cut through her heart. She nearly shuddered at the look, but she tightened her hand to steel herself and glare back.

"Do not think to order me as you please, Lady Nami," he said, his tone low and filled with warning. It made her want to run away, but she stubbornly remained rooted in her chair.

"Please, answer me," she whispered.

His expression softened. He stared at her a moment longer, then turned away as though he would dismiss her.

"I was in Denmark," he answered quietly. "I was exiled here by the king after murdering a man he was fond of."

If he had been in Denmark, then the chances that he had been in Britain at the same time as she were slim. Not impossible, but unlikely.

"Perhaps I have mistaken you for another, then," she said, forcing herself to relax. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, his expression stoic and guarded. She smiled kindly and batted her eyelashes. "It has been a rough day. Really, the last few weeks have been difficult. I find myself suspicious of every new person I meet."

His wry amusement returned and she could feel the last of the tension leave the air around them. "I understand. You have just faced a war against a powerful king. Witnessed a man betray a friend." He gestured to Ove, but Nami refused to look at the man. "It is wise not to trust so easily, especially an outsider such as myself. I take no offense."

His apparent forgiveness eased the suspicion in her heart. Perhaps he wasn't such a bad man, at least no worse than the others surrounding her. He had Nezumi captive and if she understood his conversations with Enel correctly, he was planning to torture the man for his studies. He made for an odd healer, but she had no complaints if the man he studied was a vile rat like Nezumi. She would remain wary of Corazon, but she doubted he was a threat to her there.

Her gaze cast down to the silver chain around his neck and the cross pendant that hung from it. "Are you a Christian?" she asked, genuinely curious. She thought the king despised Christians as much as Arlong did.

Corazon glanced down to the pendant with a thoughtful frown. He fingered the rubies set into the cross as he spoke. "No, I am not a Christian. This is all I have left of someone very dear to me. The meaning it holds for me is not of any religion. If not for the man this once belonged to, it would be nothing more than a trinket in my eyes."

"I am sorry," she said honestly, sparing him a somber smile when he looked up. When he turned away, the table sank into an uncomfortable silence that Nami could not endure. Sadness radiated from Corazon, making the silence all the more awkward to her. She cleared her throat and sought to find a better subject. "I'm curious—you are known to King Enel as Corazon, but I heard Nezumi call you Trafalgar as though he knew you."

"There is a region of Andalusia along the Mediterranean called Trafalgar that my father's family came from. Nezumi must have recognized that part of my ethnicity," Corazon explained.

Nami perched her chin on her hand, curious of this man that came from other lands. "So, you are Moorish, then?"

"In part." He nodded.

"They practice Islam, correct?"

"They do, but I do not. I have no gods to speak of, not anymore."

"Not anymore?"

He ate a spoonful of broth and said nothing on the subject, staring straight ahead as though intent on ignoring her now.

"What of your mother? Is she from Andalusia?" she pressed.

"No. Her family was from a region in northern Italy," he answered succinctly. "We lived in small village that was decimated by Christian nobles after an outbreak of plague. My parents were labeled heretics, claimed to be the source of the plague, and set to burn along with the sick in a misguided attempt to rid the world of the pox my parents were tirelessly working to cure. I barely escaped with my life."

Nami bowed her head as her chest tightened with sorrow. "I apologize again," she said quietly. "I seem to be stumbling across painful conversation topics for you. I did not intend to make you relive your pain."

Corazon stared at her in silence until he finally released a drawn-out sigh. "You have nothing to apologize for," he said. "You did not know. And it happened long ago. It's in the past."

"It may be in the past, but that does not mean the hurt is gone," she whispered. "Especially if you were a child. To live through such cruelty leaves unseen scars that will never fully heal. I'm sorry if my questions opened them again."

Again, he stared at her, his eyes devoid of emotion. Then his lips quirked into the barest hint of a smile. He leaned toward her, taking her by surprise as he grasped her elbow to tug her closer. Her shoulders turned stiff when she felt his breath flutter over her ear in a quiet chuckle and the shiver of unease returned to her spine.

"You truly have a gentle spirit," he whispered in a crude Frankish, further shocking her. How did he know that she would understand him? "You will not survive here with such a soft heart—not for long, not without an ally. If you need another person to confide in, have your handmaiden bring you to my home. You do not have to trust my intentions, only trust that I will not bring you harm."

She jerked away to stare at him with wide eyes. His expression spoke of mischief, a sly smile curling his mouth.

"You do not have to answer me now," he continued softly, still speaking in Frankish. "Think on it. Perhaps the falcon watching over you even now will provide you with advice."

Her eyes widened even more. How did he know of the falcon? Was he an agent for Loki?

Corazon cleared his throat and pushed his plate away. "It's late," he said, returning to the Norse he spoke, his words tinged with a foreign accent similar to what she heard from Lucci in Álasund. He truly was from the Italian peninsula. "And I have a long trek back to my home." He stood and turned to incline his head toward the king. "I appreciate the meal. Shall I expect you to visit my captive tomorrow?"

Enel stared at him with a bored gaze. "If I am inclined to. I have a great deal of work to do with Lady Nami, though. Perhaps later in the week."

Corazon nodded. "I'll keep him alive at least that long. Conis," he called to Nami's handmaiden, "I will inform your father that you are well."

"Thank you," Conis said. Her smile was beautiful, an expression Nami had not seen on any other servant. She wondered how long that happiness would last for her.

"Tell her father that she will be free to visit soon. I will not keep them apart," Nami said, prompting Corazon to look at her with a knowing smile.

"Then I will tell him to look forward to it," he said, inclining his head toward her. "And I will look forward to your visit," he added in Frankish.

She pursed her lips and nodded. She would still think on the offer, but if he was there at Loki's bidding, then she needed to learn more about him. He had surely been set in her path for a reason.

Corazon left without a word of goodbye to any other in the hall. The other two priests didn't even look up as he passed their table. He was an outsider to them, below their notice. Only the king was willing to speak with him.

"Lady Nami," Enel called to her as soon as Corazon was gone. "What did he say to you?"

"Hm?" She turned to look at the king, her eyes wide with feigned innocence. "He was telling me about his family."

"I heard that much. What did he say when he whispered to you? And again, when he spoke in that odd tongue?" Enel asked, his gaze filled with impatience.

"He was reassuring me that Nezumi would suffer at his hand," she lied. "And that I no longer have any reason to fear now that I am your priestess. A giant like Arlong is no match for a god, after all."

Enel laughed. "That is true. I will not let that sea giant take you from where you rightfully belong. Your fate far exceeds anything he could imagine."

Nami smiled sweetly. "I am relieved to hear that."

"And what of his message before he left?" Enel reminded.

"He was merely wishing me well in my new home and said he looked forward to speaking to me again," she answered. Somehow Corazon knew that she would understand him, and that Enel would not. He was showing her that if there was any message she did not want the king to hear, she should speak in the only other tongue she knew. She would ask him later how he knew that she spoke Frankish, but for now she would protect this single piece of freedom he provided her.

She now had a means to navigate around the king, and she would take full advantage of it.

---

He had spent the whole day pacing Earl Bonney's hall, growling under his breath as unwelcome anxiety punched at his chest. Something was wrong. He couldn't say what it was, all he knew was the dread crawling down his spine had grown worse and wanted nothing more than to grow a pair of wings and fly back home.

He might as well be in fetters.

No matter his will, he couldn't even bring himself to set foot on his ship. He had chosen to leave. He had chosen to walk away with the knowledge of an impending battle. To think he had abandoned his friends, his family, and a woman who had come to mean the world to him—he was ashamed of himself. He had never been such a coward.

He had hardly slept his first night in Hedeby. The bed wasn't his own and felt too big to sleep in alone. He longed to have Nami there, safely tucked in his arms. Maybe if he had brought her along, he could have protected her from Enel and those giants. But if he brought her with him, then it would change nothing between them. He could not have her and the thought was bound to drive him mad if he remained close. They needed to separate. If only he knew she was safe without him there.

Bonney tired of his pacing halfway through the afternoon and called for her servants to bring him as much mead as they could. It was strong, but he had drunk stronger in the past. He didn't think it would do anything to ease his worries.

Three flagons in, the world began to spin and Kid realized she had them put something extra in his drink to knock him of his senses. He would have been grateful any other night, but the loss of control and fading consciousness only turned his anxiety into an all-consuming panic that threatened to strangle him.

His dreams made it worse.

He stood on a dock breathing in a thick fog of smoke. He could feel fire hot at his back, but his gaze was captured by a ship drifting serenely in the bay and the lone figure sitting inside it.

"Nami," he breathed out, the sight of her amber hair easing the ache in his chest. The respite was momentary as he realized her back was turned to him, the ship gradually moving away. "Don't leave," he said, too soft for her to hear. "Don't leave me," he shouted, but she did not answer.

He walked over the dock, stretching out a hand as he called for her to come back. The dock grew longer while the ship drifted farther away. He began to jog. The dock grew longer still. He sprinted forward, running as fast as could, until every breath burned in his throat.

"Nami," he called. "Where are you going? Why are you leaving?"

She turned to look over her shoulder, but said nothing before he finally reached the end of the dock and fell over the edge. He crashed into icy water and splashed for the surface. He felt water fill his lungs, but refused to give up as he kicked his legs. He needed to reach her. He needed to stop her.

He needed to know why she was crying.

"Nami…" he said as he felt heavy chains coil around his legs.

He stared at the glimmer of light on the water's surface as he was pulled down. He fought the chains, reaching out for the slender ray of sunlight.

His last breath of air rushed out of him in a flurry of bubbles. His vision grew dark at the edges as he helplessly stared at the orbs following the path of the sun to the surface.

They looked like amber.

Just as the sun went out, he felt a hand grasp his.

He sat up gasping in clean, fresh air. He stared in wide-eyed wonder and confusion at the bright, sun-soaked clearing he woke in. He lay on a flat stone, all alone, but he swore someone had saved him from drowning, he swore a hand had reached for him.

His body trembled. He went to ball his hand into a fist and will it to stop shaking—the clank of iron drew his attention to his wrist.

He was shackled to the rock, arms and legs bound. He could not move from that place, could not shatter his fetters, no matter how hard he tugged at them.

Why was he in chains? Why wasn't he allowed to leave?

Panic returned as he twisted his hands in a vain attempt to pull them free. He would cut off his thumb if it would help his hand slide through, or perhaps cut his whole hand off. He didn't need his hands or feet. He could fight without them. So long as he was free to find her. It didn't matter what he had to give up. He had to find Nami. He had to bring her back to him. He would give anything to get her back.

"Is that true?" a voice called from behind him.

Kid tried to spin around and face whoever was hiding from him, but his chains held him in place. He craned his neck, tried to search for the voice's source.

"What would you give for her?" the voice asked again. He had no idea who this person was, but their voice was deep and soothing. He felt his panic ebb just hearing his question.

"What would you sacrifice for the strength to bring her back?" the man asked. "What would you do to prove your worth?"

Kid fought at his shackles, growling when they only seemed to bind him to the rock with even more strength.

He heard someone walk through the thick grass growing in the field until a cloaked figure came to stand before him. Kid sucked in a breath as the sun glared bright behind the man's head.

"When you are ready to answer me, I will guide you to where you need to be," the man said before bending over to carefully place something on the stone between Kid's shackled feet.

His eyes widened at the smooth amber stone. He looked up, thinking that he could answer the man, only to find him gone. Kid searched the woods surrounding the clearing as he fought the restraints that wouldn't even allow him to reach for the amber left for him. The only sign that he was given that he was not alone, that he was still being watched, was the flash of a golden tusk and fur disappearing behind a tree.

He reached for the amber, willing to tear sinew and bone, if only he could touch it once. He would tear off his arm if he had to.

He woke in a panic to a dark, unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar bed, with only one thought on his mind—

He needed amber. He needed to find her.

He was not chained in that room, but there was no amber at his feet, so he flung himself out of bed and stumbled toward the chest in the corner. He frantically dug through linen and wool, tossed soap and comb and razor aside. He found a purse with gold coins and hoped he might have a stone in there. He dumped the coins out in his palm, felt over each in the dark until he realized there was no amber among them and tossed the coins away to clatter noisily on the wood floor.

He turned the rest of the room upside down in his search.

When the room proved empty of the amber he sought, he ran out to the hall where his men slept and began to search through their things.

"Jarl Kid," he heard Wire prompt, voice thick from sleep. "What is it?"

"Need amber," he explained. "Need to find her."

"Amber? Find her? Find who?" the man asked, though he should know the answer well enough.

"Her. I need to find her," he answered loudly as he flung aside the contents of Halle's chest only to come up empty in his search. "She's gone. I need to find her. I need to find amber."

His men said nothing as he continued to search their things.

"Help me find it," he shouted impatiently, snapping them all to attention.

Candles were lit to aid the search, but his men did little more than get in his way. He shoved them aside as he searched beneath their pallets. His men had nothing, so he searched around the smoldering hearth, only to come away with a burned wrist.

"I need amber," he repeated, his mind maddeningly fixated on that one thing. He would not rest until he found it. "I need to find her."

His gaze set upon the earl's dais and he ran toward it. Servants had begun to trickle in, curious of the commotion, but he ignored them as he turned Bonney's throne onto its side.

"Amber. Amber. Amber," he repeated like a mantra while his men stood behind him in tense silence.

"What is going on out here?" he heard Bonney growl as he tossed an empty bowl against the wall.

"I need amber," he said. "I need to find her."

"Has he lost his mind?" Bonney asked.

"…. I don't know," Wire answered.

When the dais turned up no amber, Kid set his sights on the earl. She was dressed in a plain shift, her long pink hair tied in a loose braid. She wore no jewels or trinkets. No amber stones. But she had to have some amber. She had to.

"Give it to me," he demanded, stalking toward her. "Give me the amber."

"I have no amber to give you," she said, staring up at him without a glimmer of fear in her eyes.

His madness gave way to rage. He needed to find her. Why would they not help him find her? Why would they leave him in these chains?

"Give it to me," he bellowed as he grabbed Bonney by the neck and slammed her against the nearest pillar.

His men fell on him immediately. They tugged at his arm and back, but he stood strong against their efforts. He would find her. He would let no one stand in his way. Friend or foe, if they tried to prevent him from reaching her, then he would strangle the life out of them.

Bonney struggled for a breath as he tightened his grip around her, but he saw no panic in her eyes. She pried at his fingers, but her lips curled in a sneer of anger, rather than a whimper of fear.

"Give me your amber," he shouted.

One of her hands dropped from his while she tried to gasp for another tiny breath. He heard someone run off, but his whole focus on was Bonney's flushed face. Why would she not heed his demands? Why would she not see reason? Why could she not see that he lost her, that he needed to get her back?

"All right," Bonney gasped all of a sudden. "I have your amber," she wheezed once his grip slackened enough for her to take another breath. "I'll give you the amber you need."

Finally, he thought to himself as he loosened his grip and let her fall to her feet. She swayed a moment in front of him, but caught her bearings and turned her angry gaze up to him.

He saw the glimmer of amber in her palm and felt the last of his anger trickle from him.

With a furious shout, she slammed the stone into his temple. The world went black.

And he dreamed of amber rain.

---

A/N:

First note - for those that don't follow my tumblr, In This Moment's new album came out last Friday and I wish it came out earlier because holy shit it is perfect for this fic. Basically the whole thing plays to the imagery and emotion in this, especially this arc, and I listened to it on repeat all weekend while I was writing this (thus why I managed to get it done in like 4 days, ahaha). The song 'Rive of Fire' absolutely fits this chapter, most of all Killer's POV, so I recommend listening to that.

I couldn't give Shura his fire lance because it didn't fit with the battle I put him in, and lances weren't typically found in Norse armories. Also, it's more suited to open field, cavalry warfare, not a surprise attack on a village. *shrugs* I claim poetic license, lol. I still tried to incorporate fire as much as I could because of Killer's canon appearance after the time-skip.

I feel bad that I killed Gedatsu off-screen, but, tbh, he is too weird/ silly for this fic and I would have had difficulty writing him from an outside perspective. Plus, Ove joining the priests was necessary for plot reasons, so, sorry Gedatsu, you die.

Big thing to point out in this chapter is the importance of wording in oaths and answers. A common theme in Norse folklore, particularly where Odin and Loki are both concerned, has to do with the specific wording of a contract. We all know about loopholes, but Odin was a master at using them to their fullest potential, via Loki. Loki is his sworn brother, and as a god of chaos and outsider, he is particularly adept at helping Odin and the other gods get out of contractual agreements. The story behind the Asgardian wall and how Odin got his horse Sleipnir is a prime example of this, and I don't feel like telling that story here, but Freyja was involved as payment for the wall and you can all imagine how happy she was about that. :)

Imagery in this chapter connected to Thor: Killer using the smith's hammer was very much a nod to Thor's positive aspects. The rowan trees in the courtyard are actually connected to Thor. Kind of funny, I was looking at trees native to Norway, saw the rowan and went 'wow, this would be perfect for Enel, I wonder if it has mythological significance to tie into him', and what do you know, they are referred to as the 'salvation of Thor' in one of the stories, because he clings to a rowan tree to save his life. It is also thought that Sif, Thor's wife, took the form, or was conceived, as that rowan because rowans, especially the fruit they bear, are sacred to the Sami goddess, Ravdna, that some believe Sif is connected to (Ravdna is the wife of the Sami thunder-god, Horagalles).

I make reference to Idunn's apples, the apples that the gods eat to maintain their youthful appearance and extend their lifespans. In canon, Enel's favorite fruit is the apple.

The reference to goats for Enel's Army - goats are sacred to Thor, and some of Enel's army, in canon, are goat-men.

Ove's offer of his right hand to Enel is a reference to Tyr, who agreed to place his hand in Fenrir's mouth when they bound him. When Fenrir could not break his chain, he bit off Tyr's hand in retribution for the gods' betrayal.

The imagery of sunshine and the 'golden tusk and fur' in Kid's image is connected to a god that decided he also wants to be a character in the fic and I cannot say no. Even Loki cannot speak ill of Freyr, and since he wants to help and provided me with some great imagery while listening to 'Take Me Over' by Red, I had to use him. Also, he's important to Nami's maternal lineage, too, but more on that in later chapters.

Last note is about oranges - The conditions in Scandinavia are too harsh for citrus trees to grow, but they were imported into the region. In this time period, many of the oranges in Northern Europe came from trade with the Mediterranean, especially Andalusia in Spain, but at one point the Northern people were aware that they originated in Asia. The word for oranges (the fruit) in Norwegian is 'appelsin' ('appelsiner', plural), which literally translates to apples from China. It is the same in Danish, Swedish, and Icelandic, with slight variations in spelling as their dialects grew distinct from Old Norse (though Icelandic is extremely close to Old Norse). I just needed to give Nami her oranges, even if they are not as central to her character as I would normally make them.

I think that's all the notes I have to make. And again, this arc will be very violent, so hopefully these last two chapters conveyed that.