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.

28. Chapter 28

Warnings: Violence, gore, mutilation, mentions of rape/ sexual assault.

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

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Perspective

Tingstad

She watched Arlong storm through the village for the third time that day. He was on the verge of a rampage, though she had expected him to lose all patience days ago. Somehow, by some god's grace, he had restrained his temper as he waited for Chew and Nezumi to return. But every day that they were away, without any word of their progress, that tenuous peace grew more and more strained.

Nojiko took care to keep her head down as she did her chores, but watched with a wary eye for violence to erupt. He would spare her from the worst of it at first. He needed her alive to lure Nami back. If he killed her, it would be for Nami to witness, so that she would learn her lesson for this escape and see that it was her last.

The villagers would not be so lucky.

They did their best to keep quiet and avoid Arlong and his men, but the complacency was a cover to prevent him from searching their homes for weapons or witchcraft. She knew of three men with swords hidden beneath their floorboards and beds, five with Dane axes pilfered in a raid and hidden in their goat pens and barns, and countless others had hidden bows and arrows in their rafters. One woman had etched a sigil for a curse into her distaff and every day she muttered her prayers beneath her breath, biding the gods to watch over Nami and keep a cloak over Arlong's eyes so he could not find her. Another woman had thought about invoking the land spirits and wights, but that was dangerous for innocent and evil alike—best used as a last resort. They were prepared for a revolt, but waited for the right time to act.

They could not risk Arlong catching on to their plans.

Nojiko watched Arlong make his way to the dock while anxiety trickled down her spine. A woman didn't move fast enough and was shoved out of the way. She came dangerously close to cracking her head open on a stone, but her husband caught her in time and sent a furious sneer toward the jarl's back. If any of Arlong's men had seen the contempt in his eyes and alerted him to it, that would be the end of their peace.

She had to do something to distract him.

Dawn, midday, and dusk—Arlong stood at the dock and waited for a sign that his men would return. When he wasn't at the dock, he paced the hall, often taking his wrath out on the slaves. Genzo had four new scars—two on his face, one on his stomach, and another on his left hand. Kuroobi had one of the slave women see to Arlong in his room, hoping she would ease some of his tension. She ran out with a black eye, split lip, and fresh purple bruises blossoming around her throat. Arlong was still foul-tempered the next morning, so Kuroobi's plan failed and left a woman to needlessly suffer.

Nojiko had one plan that might work to keep Arlong occupied, but the idea left a bad taste in her mouth. She would be subjecting other people to Arlong's temper. It might spare their village a week or two of respite if it worked, though.

Her idea could not come from her. It had to come from one of his men. If she made any suggestions to them directly, it would be met with suspicion and likely be dismissed. If she spoke to the wrong person, she might be hit and locked away as punishment. Hachi was the only one she might be able to talk to, but even he knew to doubt anything she might say if it related to Nami and was said it directly to him. Arlong and his men had to think they came up with the idea on their own, or believe that they had caught Nami and Nojiko in some trap. They had to think she slipped up, that she gave away information she had held in through their questioning. That way Arlong could gloat about it and not see it as a trap.

Kuroobi and Hachi had chased after Arlong with a handful of men to keep him from destroying too much. The village kept them fed and produced the wealth they needed for their future endeavors. They could not have it destroyed in one of Arlong's fits.

The hall was left to the slaves, none of whom would suit her plan, but some of Arlong's men lingered around to see that the chores were done and no one ran away. She knew that at least one would be watching their most valuable slave.

Genzo was cleaning out the sty as Nojiko took a pail outside to milk a goat. His guard sat nearby, clipping his nails and not giving his charge more attention than necessary. Heavy shackles around Genzo's wrists and ankles would prevent his escape, even without their chains. Genzo was too weak to bear them and run, not with ease. If he took off, he would be caught quickly and punished for the attempt. That punishment was an extra deterrent. His fresh cuts were still healing and the one on his cheek had swelled with infection the day before. Nako had lanced and bandaged it with herbs, but it still wept with bloody pus. Genzo could not risk new cuts to slow his healing further.

She said nothing to the former jarl as she led the goat to a stool beside the sty. The guard spared her a glance, and she had to tighten her fists to keep them from shaking. She hoped this would be enough.

"How are you faring today, Genzo?" she asked loud enough for the guard to hear.

Genzo paused in his work to look at her, his brows furrowed in confusion. She did not strike up conversation when they were worked in the past. She kept her head down and mouth shut to save him from any abuse. He might be struck for this if it hindered his chores and the knowledge that he might suffer in her plan made her stomach knot with guilt.

He glanced sidelong at the guard and set back to digging out the old slop in the sty. "Well enough, I suppose."

Silence returned with that answer and Nojiko continued her own work. When Genzo next paused to stretch his back and rub the raw skin beneath his shackles, she peeked toward him and caught his gaze. He gave her a curious look. She pointedly nodded toward the inattentive guard, confusing Genzo further, but the expectant expression she wore signaled her needed to speak.

"Is something bothering you, Nojiko?" he asked as he set aside his shovel and went to take a drink of water from a skin that hung from the sty's fence.

She cleared her throat. "No," she said, making the lie obvious as she fidgeted on her stool and pitched her voice high. "Nothing that concerns me."

Genzo's scowl deepened. He looked toward the guard who had finished clipping his nails and now picked the dirt from beneath them. His grooming appeared to have his whole attention, but she had no doubt that he was listening.

"Arlong is growing restless," she said with a feigned whisper. "Chew should have returned by now."

Genzo grunted but said nothing of his opinion. He hoped that Nami would remain lost to them, just as she did. It would do him no good to say as much.

"I am beginning to think Nami did not go north," she admitted, as though resigned to share her doubts. The guard shifted where he sat and she saw his gaze flicker toward her. He pretended to pick at a stubborn nail bed, hissing and grumbling to himself to make them think he paid no mind to their conversation. It was silent permission for Genzo to take a break and listen to what Nojiko said, all for the guard's benefit.

"What do you mean?" Genzo hissed, taking better care to keep his voice down. His eyes looked frantic and angry, pointedly glaring at the guard as he came closer to her. She could not tell him why she was speaking about Nami with someone there to overhear, she could only shake her head and hope Genzo caught on to her scheme.

"How many times has Nami run from Tingstad?" Nojiko asked. "She usually flees alone. The only time she has left with someone else was when a tutor tried to take her away from here. But this time she made sure to run with me."

"Because you are her sister," Genzo urged. "She would not leave you behind this time."

"But she did," Nojiko said firmly and watched his brows lift in surprise.

"Don't tell me you are doubting your sister?"

"I don't know what to think of her plan any more. This is the longest she has remained gone without a single clue to her whereabouts. If Chew has not returned in his search of the north, then that means she is not there." Genzo appeared confused, so she beckoned him to come closer, as though she wanted to keep the guard from overhearing. "She told me that we were going north, but she did not say anything about the Noreg king. She said nothing of where specifically we would go, only that we would find lodging somewhere to the north so the faering would not be burdened with a longer journey in the straits. If she had planned to rest at any of the villages or farms along the coast, Chew would have heard word of her and sent a messenger back to keep Arlong calm."

"But we've heard nothing…" Genzo mused.

"Because she didn't go north, at least not as far as they suspect." Nojiko glanced toward the guard to see him watching through a tendril of long green hair. "I think she knew that I would be caught before we left, or perhaps she intended to abandon me at one of the farms so that I would be found. Either way, she meant to have me here to throw Arlong's search astray."

Genzo appeared to be catching on. "She knew you would never betray the direction she told you, that you would turn Arlong in the opposite direction."

Nojiko nodded eagerly. "But she's been caught and dragged back enough times to know that it would never be so simple. Arlong is too smart to believe anything I tell him. If I said south, he would look north."

"But she did not go south," Genzo pointed out. "The earl in Hedeby said nothing of her."

"She did not go south, either. She knew Arlong would cast a wide net, check the south and the north in case I did tell the truth. She could not cross the straits in that faering. It would have been suicide. But she could not go directly east over the farmlands."

Genzo shook his head. "Those farms and villages fall under Arlong's rule. They would know her and alert Arlong to her whereabouts. The same can be said for the regions to the south. Even if they do not fall under Arlong's territory, the landowners know of Nami from her previous attempts to flee. They wouldn't want trouble with Arlong while he allows them to live in peace. They would send her back as soon as she arrived."

"But to the north Arlong does not hold that kind of sway. They are too concerned with the Noreg king encroaching on their lands." She leaned in closer, speaking at a loud whisper. "What if she sailed past the farms near Arlong's territory and found a river inland, away from Arlong's reach? She might have found a farm that knows nothing of her or Arlong and took shelter there for a night. She would not have stayed longer than necessary. She would not stop until she put as much distance between her and Arlong as possible."

Genzo scowled. "She is likely feigning an illness as we speak to have a night in a comfortable bed with a warm meal to fill her belly. She will leave in the morning with their valuables in her skirts and their rations in a satchel." He shook his head to clear the thoughts of her thieving from any strangers that showed her kindness. It was a strong possibility, one Arlong would believe without a doubt. He saw Nami as a selfish, manipulative con-artist. A witch only concerned for herself, willing to turn her back on anyone, family included. "Where has she gone, then? If she is following the inland rivers, where does she mean to go?"

Nojiko shrugged. "I have thought on it and the only answer I have come to is Birka."

"Birka? Why there?"

"It is not far from our birthplace. There might be kin or other survivors there that know of her and will take her in. If not, the stories might at least find her an ally that will smuggle her to the Laplands her ancestral forefather had called home. Or perhaps she will find passage to Francia. Maybe even search for a home with the Rus, where no one will know of her and she can hide under a new name with no fear of Arlong finding her. She could be anywhere, but my heart says she turned east, not north."

"Hey," the guard shouted, breaking into the conversation just as she felt it done. "Get back to work, slave." He waved his knife at Genzo and the former jarl snatched up his shovel to continue his chore. "Are you still milking that goat, woman?"

"She might be going dry," Nojiko said with a trembling smile. "I can't seem to get a drop from her." She squeezed an utter and a stream of milk sprayed into her pail. "Oh! There she goes."

The guard glowered at her, but waved her off. He would not punish her, not when he knew very well that she was there to speak with Genzo, not milk a goat. And he had overheard a conversation that could help Arlong's search.

"If she stops producing, we'll slaughter her for the feast to celebrate Nami's return," he called to her as he settled back on his stool. His smile was dark, as though he knew a secret he was not meant to, one she did not want him to know. "It won't be long before Arlong finds her."

She sneered at him, playing the part of uncooperative hostage, and set to the chore she had given herself in the ruse.

That evening, the guard made his way to crouch at Arlong's side during supper. Nojiko watched as he whispered in his ear all that he overheard earlier. Arlong's lip twisted in a furious snarl and his hand tightened around his fork until his knuckles turned white. When he caught her gaze, his anger dissolved into a terrifying, shark-like grin. He had a lead on his prey and he would take advantage of her carelessness.

He raised his cup of ale to salute her. She sneered but raised her cup in return. She hoped he choked on that ale.

The next morning, he announced that he would head out to join the search and Nojiko had to hide her elation at the news. He would personally search the villages to the east with a small retinue of men, disguising his intent with a routine collection of his share of harvest and taxes. He ordered Kuroobi to take another handful of men to go northeast and search the villages outside his territory. Meanwhile, Hachi would be left in charge, ensuring that Tingstad and the villagers would know peace for the weeks that Arlong and Kuroobi were gone.

Arlong passed her on his way out, smiling at the contemptuous glare she sent him. He set his hand on her shoulder that sent a shiver of terror down her spine, and leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"Let's hope your stupidity and carelessness brings Nami home where she belongs," he hissed. "Perhaps then I will spare the lives of this village in gratitude for your slip-up." His hand squeezed tight and it took everything she had not to show him how much his grip hurt. "But, if I do not find her in a month, I'll make you watch as I raze your precious village to the ground and piss on the smoldering corpses. Then I'll sell you to live the rest of your life as a bed slave to the vilest man I can find. Your spirit will die in agony while your body remains the plaything of a beast. And when your body finally does die, you will curse the woman that forced you to live such torment. You will curse the sister that abandoned you and know no peace for all eternity. You will be shunned from all the glorious halls and remain a shadow, a wight, haunting this world alone, with no hope for solace."

He shoved away from her laughing. "Have hope, Nojiko, and pray to the gods that I bring your sister home."

He whistled for his men to head out and waved farewell to those he left behind. She would not fear whatever punishment he doled out on them. He would not kill everyone in the village, no matter how much he might wish to. They were still useful hostages. He would not kill them until he was prepared to go to Francia and bring the duchy the chaos he promised. Genzo might be sacrificed sooner, but he had been prepared for that day since he was first enslaved. He would not fear it. And she might have to endure torture, but she would not fear that either. If Nami was safe and far away, then she would face whatever came her way and remain strong until better times came. She would protect the village that Nami sacrificed her freedom for, see that it still stood when the day came for Nami to return and set them all free.

She would have faith in her sister, even if no one else would. Her sister would return and Arlong would be overthrown. She had no doubt that it would come.

She went to sleep that night with peace in her heart. She swore Bellemere was there, lulling her with a sweet song and tender touch, whispering of the guardians she was born from and the faith the gods had in her.

The valkyries chose you for a reason, she heard as dreams of better times took her mind from the dark world she was trapped in. Her sworn-sister. Her true guardian. The valkyries are with you. You will not fail. You will not fall. We have faith that you will see victory. We will hold you up until the very end.

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Oslo

Just over a week had passed since she came to the king's hall and she had settled in as well as she could. It was not a home, but she lived peacefully within the fortress walls. Her days were dull and uneventful. She woke from restless dreams, filled with frothing snarls, to breakfast with Enel and his priests. She spent her mornings walking the grounds, finding solace among the rowan trees in the courtyard. She helped the thralls in the vegetable gardens in spite of Enel's insistence she not bother with such pithy duties, but the king called her away as soon as he took notice and sent her off to train. The afternoon was dedicated to practice and prayer, either alone or with Enel. He had gathered the amber stones for her runes with ease and guided her as she carved them, encouraging her to sing whatever came to mind in association to the runes she cut into the stones to fill them with her energy and magic. When she was not praying or meditating to stretch her foresight, Enel took her to the yard his soldiers exercised in each day and saw that she practiced with her spear and axe.

"A strong body and a strong mind are what you need, Nami," he had said. "Freyja is a goddess of war and death. There is magic in battle, too. You must not focus too much on one aspect or you will lose sight of all you can accomplish."

She decided those lessons were of the utmost importance while she was in Oslo. War would be upon them soon and she would not shrink away in fear again. Training in Álasund had helped strengthen her spirit and resolve before their battle in Britain, and she had promised to take her losses there to heart, to not give up no matter how scared and beaten she was. She would not be a useless damsel in distress, forever reliant upon others to save her. She would fight for those she called friend, she would fight for those that had dedicated their lives to her.

She had to spar with Ove while practicing with her axe. She knew he would not go easy on her, but he would hear no complaints. He would not kill her. He could not kill her. Not while Enel watched on and praised her for every dodge and slash and blow she landed. The challenge was wholly welcomed. She would take advantage of the chance to learn all that she could in combat, even if it left her aching all over.

She wasn't sure if it was her imagination, but she swore she caught Ove grinning when they finished, a spark of something other than contempt in his eye. It was gone in a flash, replaced by a snarl and growl that reminded her he was a traitor, not a friend.

Enel took her on with a spear, saying she would learn from no one better than he at his weapon of choice. Enel had commissioned a spear to be made for her, urging his blacksmith to craft it as quickly as the goldsmith made her necklace, if not faster. It was done in less than two days, leaving Nami to pity the poor smith with black rings beneath his eyes and burns scarring his arms.

She had the chance to give some input into the spear that would be both weapon and staff. With it, Enel said, she would learn to change the tides of a battle by magic and force combined, just as he did. The shaft was smooth birch painted blue, the color of the sea and sky to suit her strengths. It was a shorter length than the standard spear, made to be agile and useful in close combat, rather than cumbersome and reliant on distance between her and her opponent. The dark iron tip was barbed and etched with a lightning pattern inlaid with gleaming bronze.

It was beautiful, far more expensive than any weapon she had ever held, beyond anything she ever imagined possessing. Holding it in her hands made her feel powerful, like she could command the very lightning that streaked over the tip.

She took to her spear training with the same resolve she had while facing Ove with an axe. The king approached her with an air of boredom at first, casually lashing out with an plain wooden staff to test her weaknesses. With every lazy strike she blocked, a smile flit over his face before he struck at her again. By the end of the second afternoon, he was dancing around the yard, laughing as she chased him in a vain attempt to land one hit. Even as he teased her for being too weak and slow to strike him, he continued to praise her efforts and quick wits that got him to move at all.

That afternoon, their training went much the same way. Enel danced and parried and smacked at her openings with enough force to send a subtle current of pain up the limb but not render her incapable of continuing. If she escaped those strikes, he laughed and praised her, then flew forward to catch her off guard and send her to the ground with a sweep of his staff. Her bruises had bruises, her lungs ached for a breath, and her left hand felt numb after a hit to her elbow, but she endured, rolled to her feet, and went again.

Enel ended her practice when she nearly grazed his side, his good humor lost for a fleeting moment. He smacked her with his staff, moving faster than he had, and forced her to yield when she fell to her knees. His foot pinned her spear to the ground and the end of his staff pressed hard to the base of her throat. The anger in his eyes said he would not hesitate to slam it into the vulnerable spot if she resisted. Fear lanced down her spine, cold and hot all at once as the air crackled around her, screaming out the danger she was in if she took one misstep.

Enel's smile returned when she bowed her head in a show of submission and let go of her spear, his foul mood gone as quickly as it came. He pulled his staff away and she slumped over with a sigh of relief, too aware of how close their mock battle had come to being real.

He left her with orders to rest the next day while he saw to some business in the farmlands. She would be free to do as she pleased, but within the week, he had an assembly planned and wanted her to sit with him as he judged his people. She was expected to be well rested and dressed in the finest clothes he had for her, to remind the commoners that she stood above them, as well.

Once Enel vanished in the direction of his bedchambers, the other priests and the warriors that had watched the training all scattered off without a single hand offered to help. Conis rushed in to pick her up, giving her a shoulder to lean on as she ambled her way to her quarters. She wanted a hot bath to soothe her aches, but it would be some time before the thralls had the water heated. In the meantime, she would shed her leather armor and sweaty clothes, and have Conis rub some of the aches from her stiff limbs.

When they had turned for the hall, she was surprised to see that Ove had hung back, sitting on the wooden walkway as he sharpened his axe.

"If you leave yourself open like that," he grumbled without looking up, "you're going to be stabbed in the back."

The warning sent a shiver down her spine. She could not get away from him fast enough, unwilling to ask if those words were meant to be helpful advice or a threat. She did not want to know.

She wanted to flee the hall filled with people she could not trust. She wanted a respite from the airs she had to put on while playing her part as hostage. Her cheeks ached from her forced smiles, her eyes felt heavy from the tears she held back. She needed a breath, a real breath, and a reminder that she had a purpose there.

As she hobbled along the walkway to her quarters, she noticed the falcon perched in the rowan trees, its sharp gaze fixed on her. Ohm had spent the better part of the week trying to capture it, to no avail. He returned every night grumbling and cursing at the foul creature he swore was too smart to be a simple bird. It would come close to his traps and treats, allow Ohm to stroke its feathers, then snap at his hand and fly away. The priest nearly lost a thumb and had scratches all over his arm. His dog, Holy, even had a chunk of his ear cut off when the falcon flew at it and slashed the barking dog with its talons.

If she did not know better, she swore the bird was having a hearty laugh over the chaos it created.

"Conis, let's go visit your father tomorrow," Nami suggested once inside. She lowered onto her cushioned bench with a relieved sigh and held up her arms so Conis could undo the ties of her wrist-guards and armor.

"Really?" Conis asked, her eyes bright with excitement.

Nami nodded. "I'd like to meet him, and I could use a reprieve from this fortress." She also wanted to meditate without Enel hovering over her shoulder to ask questions of all that she saw. He would be away from the hall, so she would be free to practice alone, but she wanted the distance to avoid any of his men spying on her in the king's stead. She wanted to communicate with the trickster that sent her down this path, and to do that, she needed absolute privacy. "After supper, I'll see what ale and food we have in storage to gift him with."

"You don't have to give him anything," Conis insisted as she tugged Nami's armor up. "He'll be happy with our company."

"I need to show my gratitude for allowing me to know his daughter." Nami smiled up at the woman, the expression genuine and easy. "You've been a good friend this past week. I am fortunate to have you here."

Conis looked away with a cute blush as she set aside Nami's armor. "If you insist."

Nami laughed at her handmaiden's bashfulness and began to kick off her shoes. "It won't be much, just a small gift. And before we go, I need to find a rat."

"A rat?" Conis asked as she continued to help Nami with her tunic. "Why a rat?"

"An offering. I haven't had any visions other than my disjointed dreams. I think I need to offer something to help them come through clearly and I think a rat would be a suitable gift considering it was a rat that spurred Enel to find me," she explained.

Conis hummed in thought. "I believe I heard one of the thralls complaining about a rat in the stores. I could have him catch it for you."

"Have him trap it alive," she said, grimacing at what she would have to do herself. She only hoped that Loki would heed her call with the meager offering. At least the falcon he was disguised as would enjoy the easy meal.

Exhausted and sore, she rested well that night. Her mind echoed with snarls and clanking chains, but her sleep remained undisturbed by the illusory sounds. She woke early to walk the grounds, bundled in her fur cloak to fight off the morning chill, and stretched out the last of her aches from her exercise. As she lingered among the rowans, she felt a prickle at the back of her neck, the sensation that she was being watched, but as she searched among the trees and walkways, she saw no one near. She shrugged the feeling off, decided the falcon must be nearby, spying on her from a rooftop or the canopy of a tree.

The scent of breakfast in the main hall spurred her to ready for the day. Conis waited in her quarters with news that one of the slaves had successfully trapped a rat for her. The rat would wait until after breakfast, but Nami sent the handmaid to see that the creature was tucked away where Enel and the other priests would not take notice of it. She did not want him asking questions about what a rat was doing alive in a box, it would only lead him to question what reason she had to use it for an offering, and that was not something she cared to explain.

She dressed simply for her day and tied her hair in a long tail, with her thick amber waves cascading down her back, and then set off to join the rest for breakfast in the hall. Enel scrutinized her the moment she walked in, as he was wont to do, this time glowering with obvious disapproval.

"You look as plain as the villagers, Nami," Enel said as she took her seat.

"I'm accompanying Conis to visit her father today. I don't want to sully my nicer dresses with a trek through the forest," she explained while smoothing out the skirt of her blue wool dress. It was still a fine dress, even if plain.

Enel hummed, unsatisfied. "You are supposed to present yourself as nobility."

"I would rather walk through the village without drawing attention to myself. I want to see more of the village and observe the people, but if they see me and recognize me, I'm afraid they would silence themselves and keep their distance. I will learn more about your subjects if they remain unaware of my presence," she gave as an excuse. "They seem more willing to share their displeasure when they don't believe you or your men are near to listen."

The king slowly smiled, a glimmer of amusement creeping into his blue eyes. "So, you mean to spy for me? I already have men walking the village to listen for whispers and gossip that might require punishment."

"And those men are known and recognized by their gait alone. I am new and hardly known. I won't be recognized immediately," she pointed out. When he remained skeptical, she turned to face him with a pout. "Please, my lord, I just want to learn as much as I can so I can best serve you in my capacity as your priestess. I promise that I will dress more regally when I walk the village with you or the other priests so I don't tarnish your magnificence."

That got a laugh out of the king and a wave of acquiescence. She swore she heard Ove snort beside her as she turned to her waiting breakfast, but when she glanced toward him, he wore a scowl while shoveling a spoonful of porridge into his mouth.

The matter was dropped and breakfast carried on as Enel discussed his plans with Ohm and Satori. The former was still trying to capture the falcon, but had assigned others to watch his baited traps as he grew bored with the task, so he would join Enel's tours of the farmlands for the next week. Satori was responsible for supervising the slaves that constructed the ark, a job he took on with a high-pitched laugh and ecstatic grin. He and his two brothers planned to sit in the hills with their bows ready to take out any slave that thought it safe to flee while the king was away. They would make a game of it.

Ove would be left to continue Nami's axe training, and she would otherwise be left to entertain herself as she saw fit. She already planned to use every moment of Enel's trip to strategize a way she could help Kid from Oslo. He had not yet come for her, and if the sounds in her dreams meant anything, she thought it safe to assume it would be a while before he made any attempt at her rescue. She was grateful of whatever force managed to restrain him. That could be no easy task for anyone.

After breakfast, she saw the king and his men off. Her shoulders felt lighter as she watched his horse carry him away. She had a week of relative freedom, one week without him eavesdropping on every conversation within his hall and village, one week to do what she needed.

As soon as he was out of sight, Nami hurried to gather what she needed from her quarters. She ignored Ove as she walked by him, even as his curious gaze flickered to her. She was on a mission that day. She had no time to bicker with a traitor.

Conis met her with all they needed packed away in a basket. Nami could hear the rat chattering inside, surely scared of the fate it would meet. If she had not caught it for the falcon, it would have been eaten by one of the cats that lurked around the fortress eventually. A rat's fate is never pleasant.

With her cloak properly fastened in place by her gold and amber brooches, Nami tied the pouch with her rune stones onto her belt and secured her polished axe to her hip. She snatched the basket of gifts from Conis's arm on her way out and hurried for the main gate before the handmaid could insist on carrying it.

The prickle at the back of her neck returned, but with no one in sight, she continued to ignore the sensation. She had already informed Enel and his men of where she was going that day. It was no secret. If one of them meant to spy, then she would just have to be careful when she practiced her seidr. Most of the militia and soldiers wouldn't recognize much that was different, perhaps only the offering to the falcon, but she decided that, if asked, she could explain it as her own attempt to wrangle the creature for a pet. The bird was partial to her, she could claim that she was building trust and a rapport on her own, without an obvious trap waiting for it.

Traveling through the village with her handmaiden was vastly different than her tour with the king. Conis hailed any that called to her, her smile cheerful and pleasant. She stopped to chat with an old man she introduced as a friend of her father's and promised to pass on a greeting when they arrived at her home. A woman dropped a basket of fruit in the market, and Conis stopped again to help gather them. The women laughed until Nami spotted two oranges rolling away and grabbed them before they got far. The villager froze in surprise when she noticed Nami handing her the lost fruit, then took the oranges with a pursed expression and bowed her head in thanks. A noticeable chill developed and Nami knew that she was recognized as Enel's priestess. She took no offense. She was accustomed to cold shoulders in Tingstad, this was no different to her.

"Did a ship come in with more oranges?" Conis asked, either unaware of the change in the air, or pretending not to notice.

"Yesterday," the woman answered curtly.

Conis turned to Nami. "We should search out the merchant so we can buy some for you."

"I think he sold the last of them this morning," the woman interjected. "It was a small selection he had left. Most of it went to the Danish before he arrived here."

Conis's shoulders slumped in disappointment. Nami slipped her arm in hers and tugged her away. "It's all right. I've lived most of my life without more than a taste of them when I was fortunate. I can wait until the next shipment comes from the south."

"I'll inform McKinley to inspect the cargo closely and send any traders to the fortress if they bring oranges." Conis nodded. "You'll have first pick."

She truly did enjoy the benefits of being in a king's household. Even if she was treated with unveiled suspicion by the villagers, she would reap the rewards of her position until the time came to flee.

The walk to Conis's family home was a steady trek west along the bay. The village buildings thinned the further they went, opening up to plowed fields and farmhouses where the forest had been cleared. As they rounded to the south, to the peninsula her father lived on, the woods encroached upon them and left them to follow a broken path dappled with sunlight falling through thick canopies. The path wound back to the west until it ran into another road, well-worn by horse and cart, that followed along the rocky coast. It was not long after that she spotted a thin column of smoke and heard the echo of a hammer striking wood that signaled the house was near.

Conis picked up her pace, eager to see her father, and Nami found her own excitement grow.

"Father," Conis called once the house was in sight.

The hammering ceased and a moment later a man ran toward them from the far side of the house, shouting "Conis" with the same excitement as his daughter. He was dressed in a yellow tunic stained with dirt and wood dust, his brown trousers were torn and patched, and a cloth wrapped around the palm of his tanned and wrinkled hand. His arms opened to grab his daughter in a tight hug as soon as she was in reach and his eyes crinkled with a smile hidden by a thick brown beard. "How have you been? Has the king been treating you well? Have you been eating properly? Staying out of trouble?" he asked, not stopping to wait for the girl to answer any of his questions. "I'm so sorry I could not stop McKinley from taking you, but he swore he would watch over you."

Conis pulled from her father's embrace with a laugh. "I've been well. The Lady that King Enel returned with is kind." She gestured to Nami as she stood back, allowing them to greet one another properly. With the father's attention turned to her, Nami stepped forward and bowed her head in greeting. "Lady Nami, this is my father," Conis introduced.

"I've looked forward to meeting you," Nami said as the man's brows rose. "Your daughter has been very helpful and keeps me from feeling lonely here. I'm sorry the king took her from you, but I promise we will visit you often."

The man's smile returned as he quickly bowed to her. "Ah, Lady Nami, I'm so grateful to hear. Corazon informed me of your message, but I still did not expect to meet you so soon."

A shiver crawled down her spine at that name, but she refused to show her wariness of the unfamiliar man. "You don't have to be formal with me," she urged, waving for him to straighten. "You're my friend's father. Just call me Nami."

She saw a peek of his grin through his beard as he laughed and watched his shoulders relax. "Then please, call me Pagaya, and any friend of Conis is always welcome here."

"Father, what happened to your hand?" Conis asked, taking notice of the cloth. She snatched his hand to inspect the bloodstain seeping through with obvious disapproval.

He rubbed the back of his head with his free hand, the crinkle of his eyes appearing sheepish as he chuckled. "The cart's wheel broke. I was repairing it this morning and cut myself on a nail. It's nothing serious. Corazon was here and helped me clean it. He should be returning later with a poultice to ward off any infection."

Conis's cheeks puffed in an annoyed pout, but she dropped his hand and nodded. "I'll help you clean the wound again when he returns. In the meantime, I'll see to the cart for you."

"Ah, you don't have to," Pagaya insisted, but his daughter was already walking off toward the back of the house.

Nami followed. "I've brought food and drink for you," she said to Pagaya. "I'll take them into the house."

"Thank you," he said. "Will you be staying for supper?"

"If that's all right with you." She nodded.

"Of course, of course," he said with a cheerful wave. "I have plenty of fish for everyone. When Corazon was by, he had been returning one of my boats he borrowed to fish and paid me with the extra that he caught. I've invited him to supper, too."

"How nice," she said with a false smile. She had been fortunate to avoid him this long, but she supposed it was only a matter of time before she would see him again. Enel's remark on Corazon's interest in her still bothered her. She would have to ask him about it when she saw him. "I'd be happy to help prepare supper for everyone."

"You don't have to," Pagaya insisted. "You're my guest."

"And you've lent me your daughter for my handmaiden," she argued. "It's the very least I can do."

He relented with a hard nod and Nami ducked through the low doorframe of his home to unpack the food beside the smoldering hearth. The rat still skittered about in its box, but she could hear its claws scratching for freedom. It would eventually chew its way out if she left it alone any longer, and if she was going to have time to prepare supper, she needed to give her offering and practice her seidr sooner rather than later.

She wrapped the box in her cloak and headed outside. She found Conis hammering a wooden pin into place to secure the broken wheel of a plain brown cart in the back. Pagaya stood beside her, holding the wheel steady so it was lined up properly. The back of the house was littered with wood in all manner of use. There was a pile of slender boards by the barn, a stack of logs by the goat pen, two newly chopped trunks, one in the process of being split for a board, and all around the ground laid shards of broken wood. The unfinished hull of a small boat sat on logs, and another faering sat upside-down beside it, looking to be in disrepair.

"Did you build these?" she asked.

Pagaya looked up from his broken cart. "I'm building the new one. The faering isn't my work, but I'm attempting to fix a leak in the hull."

"You're doing this work alone? You don't have other shipbuilders?"

He shook his head. "Any other builders are working for the king. My skills are not adequate enough for his ark and the village has need of at least one free builder for the fishing boats. Until the ark is completed and the other builders are freed, all the small work falls on me."

Nami frowned. Enel was using every resource at his disposal. Pagaya was fortunate to have his freedom, but he must be stretched thin with so much work to do on his own.

"There are two other free craftsmen remaining in the region," Pagaya continued. "But they are too far from the fjord to be useful for the boats and their work costs more. I'm happy to fix anything for my neighbors, even if they can't repay me with more than a handful of cloudberries."

"That's very generous of you," she said. "I see Conis is quite handy with this work, too."

Her handmaiden laughed as she wiped a stray blonde hair from her forehead. "If I did not help, he would be working night and day."

"Well, if you ever need an extra hand, send word and I'll have Conis come," Nami said. Pagaya appeared ready to argue, but she waved it off before he could say a word. "It would give me a reprieve from the hall. While I'm grateful for the king's hospitality, it is tedious to spend all my time within the fortress walls. And if I can be of any help here, I'd be glad for the work." He heaved a sigh and nodded. "Conis, I'm going to do my practice now. I'll return to help you prepare supper."

"Good luck," Conis responded with a happy wave. "Holler if you need anything."

She skipped off down a path toward the rock lined coast and balanced over slick boulders stained with sea salt as she looked for a place to make her offering. She found a single rowan, it's fiery orange fruit bundles standing out among green foliage, and decided that was where she needed to be. The sea gently lapped at the smooth rocks and silt. The area was secluded, the coast on the opposite side of the bay devoid of others. The only company she had was a flock of gulls resting on an rocky outcrop.

She set her trapped offering on the ground beneath the rowan and pulled her axe from her belt. A fallen branch stretched beneath the rowan and made for a suitable bench to sit and polish her axe head. She had not heard the falcon following her that morning, so she would wait until it found her before she gave it the rat. If she left it out in the open too long, it was liable to be stolen by another animal. In the meantime, she would clean her blade and concentrate on the questions she had, the vision she desired to fully see, and the god she wished to communicate with.

She hummed to herself as she waited to drown out the rat's urgent chattering and scratching. By the time her blade gleamed in the bright sun, she heard the sheer cry of the falcon and hurried to make her offering while it was nearby.

She grabbed the box and climbed down the slick and mossy rocks to a flat boulder that sat a little ways from the rowan. She steadied herself on the slippery surface and lowered to her knees. Closing her eyes, she sat for a moment and took a deep breath to quell the nervous energy that roiled in her stomach. She hoped this would work, prayed for it. She wished there was another god there to guide her, one more trustworthy, but if all she had was a trickster to rely on, then she would take advantage of whatever aid he could give her. There had to be a purpose for his presence, even if she feared his motives.

When she felt ready, she opened her eyes and saw the falcon swoop over the bay to land in a tree on the opposite shore. It stared at her as though it anticipated what she would do and she knew there was no more delaying her offer.

With one more deep breath, she lifted the lid on the box and snatched the rat by the tail before it could get away. She had to shut her eyes and swallow thickly as it squirmed in her grip. When she set it on the stone, its nails scraped over the rock and she forced herself to ignore the noise as she took her axe head to its neck. It was over in an instant as she was unwilling to extend the animal's suffering. She didn't realize she had been holding her breath until it all left her in a rush as soon as the rat fell still.

Crimson stained her axe and flowed along a crevice on the rock to drip into the sea. She took another breath and searched for the falcon in the trees.

"Loki," she whispered, "this is for you. Please hear my call. Please bring answers to my questions."

The falcon did not answer, but she refused to let its silence bother her and stood to return to the fallen branch and rowan. A screech caught her by surprise as she climbed back up the rocks. She turned around just in time to watch the falcon snatch the offering from the rock and vanish into the trees toward the north. She sighed in relief and hoped that would be enough to satisfy the trickster this time.

Nami settled on the branch and took out her rune stones. She would practice her readings while she waited. Perhaps an answer would come through the amber stones. She used the empty box as an altar, placing it on the ground before her, and set to work. Enel had told her to ask the stones questions and toss a handful of them out to see how they answered. The messages were never clear and took practice deciphering, so she focused on mundane questions at first.

She asked if the weather would remain fair for Enel's trip. She felt that it would and when she tossed five stones from the pouch, she was given runes that could be read as sunshine, an easy journey, and good harvest, but there were two that confused her. Nauthiz spoke of delay, conflict. At first glance, she assumed Enel's return trip would be slowed, but then she noticed thurisaz beside the other rune, and that told her there was a greater conflict to come with his journey. The rune's connection to both Thor and Loki left her to wonder, though. It could be pointing toward an event related to her purpose in Oslo, but she could not be sure.

Refusing to get frustrated with the cryptic answer, she moved on to another question: how did Drafn fair in her absence? Her answer was as disappointing as she expected. Isa spoke of frustration and grievances, a standstill. Nauthiz and thurisaz again told of delay and conflict. But she felt reassured when she saw algiz, the elk, which signaled protection and brought warmth to her heart. The people she left behind were sheltered, and hopefully it meant the valkyries watched over them for her.

She asked how Kid fared and began to toss the stones out when the falcon screamed above her, its shrill cry startling her. Two stones fell from her pouch, but before she could glimpse at the rune carvings, something bounced off her head and landed in her lap. At the sight of the ripe orange, Nami glanced up to the falcon perched on a branch of the rowan. It caught her gaze and leaned forward with a loud squawk, then fluttered its wings in a strange dance she had never witnessed a falcon perform.

Her best guess was that it wanted her to eat the fruit it brought for her.

She had wanted a bite of an orange after she saw the villager's basket of fruit earlier. With a grateful smile, she turned back to her runes as she peeled the rind from the pulp of the fruit. It was gouged out where the falcon dug its claws in, but the meat inside was whole and smelled sweeter than the rind shavings in her bath. She moaned at the rich flavor of the first bite and nearly shut her eyes to savor it. But, she forced herself to concentrate on her task and tried to decipher the new runes while she ate.

The only two runes given were isa and nauthiz. She had heard chains in her dreams and a wolf's frustrated snarls, so the runes confirmed what she already suspected. She almost thought to ask what would come when Kid was free to act, but she could imagine the path of destruction he would leave in his wake without the runes. She was curious to know how Kid was bound because, no matter how much faith she had in Killer's ability to control his cousin, she doubted it would be enough once Kid learned she was gone. There had to be another force at play in the grand scheme of things, something far more powerful than Kid's stubborn will.

The vagueness of her answers was unhelpful. She needed more guidance than the runes alone would provide. With the falcon perched in the rowan tree above her, she hoped that meant she would find better answers if she delved into the seidr that had been coming more naturally to her since she fled from Arlong.

If she could communicate with a god from another realm, one who had more knowledge and insight of the fate she navigated, then she should find a better answer, or at least a clue to one.

She finished her orange and made herself comfortable on the fallen branch. She left the two rune stones on her makeshift altar to concentrate on their meaning and the question she had asked them, and then stared out over the bay. She listened to the world around her, to the water that gently lapped at the coast, to the flutter of the falcon's wings as it groomed, to the soft snap of a twig off in the distance. The prickle at the back of her neck returned, but she felt no danger around her, so she brushed the sensation off. The falcon watched over her from above, and perhaps Conis was nearby to see that she was all right.

She felt safe, an odd feeling to have when she was a hostage in that place.

It was in the span of one breath that the world bled away. The forest around her creaked and groaned, the branch she sat on shifted and grew and joined to an ancient tree as the ground under her feet fell away. The sea became a distant speck, the sky vanished behind a canopy of evergreen. Mist surrounded her, then she felt the first drops of light rain that fell upon Yggdrasil's branches.

Amid the creaks of the growing tree, Nami heard the rattle of chains and the wolfish snarls that haunted her dreams. She searched the branches for a sign of the vision she could not see, but found them empty even as the noise echoed around her, as though it were everywhere. With a disappointed sigh, she looked down at where the rune stones had been sitting. The box and stones were gone, only twisted and gnarled branches greeted her, but she swore she saw a glint of amber far below.

She squinted and strained to see if the stones were on a branch beneath her. The orange-brown hue flickered and vanished and then returned in a different place. She followed the movement, focused on it until the branches beneath her shifted and the boughs opened.

She gasped at what was revealed to her. His rust-brown eyes resembled blood-soaked amber, glowing with his fury. His red-brown coat was matted with blood, his limbs withered and frail, but he continued to struggle against the chains that bound him to the base of the tree. The chains wrapped around his legs and neck, dug into his flesh. She watched him bite at the chains wrapped around the tree's trunk, taking them into his maw to tug. She could see where the tree was gouged from his efforts, and she could see where his body was sliced as the chains only grew tighter. Bloody spittle ran from his mouth, slickened the chains he pulled at. His claws dug into the roots as he slipped. The chain snapped from his teeth and he gave a loud yelp as he slipped on bloodstained roots and fell. Fresh chains appeared to bind him anew, and the wolf whined and growled as he kicked and fought against the fetters.

"He has gone too far. I actually pity the poor mutt," a voice sighed above her.

Nami jumped at the voice and slipped from her perch. She screamed as she began to fall and prayed that she would snap from the vision before she hit the ground. But before she fell too far, something snagged the back of her dress and brought her descent to an abrupt halt. She let out a sigh of relief while her stomach flipped and swirled with anxiety at the long fall she was saved from.

"I've been in the branch above you this whole time," the voice grumbled as she felt herself slowly pulled up. "You shouldn't be so surprised."

She was unceremoniously dropped onto her branch and stared in surprise at the figure that stood before her. A man towered over her wearing a cloak of falcon feathers. Her jaw dropped as her gaze trailed up to his face, taking in his slender frame. Silky black hair fell to his shoulders and framed a handsome jaw. A well-groomed beard hung from his chin, decorated with braids and red beads, and surrounding a wry grin. His skin was a shade of brown nearly as dark as the tree's bark. His garb was loose and fine, made of southern silks in a style foreign to her lands.

His smile grew as he folded an arm over his stomach, gathered his cloak in his other hand, and gave her a deep, sweeping bow filled with mockery. "Your ever-benevolent Loki at your rescue," he greeted with a low chuckle. "Charmed, I'm sure."

She had not expected him to appear as he had and not in the form of a foreigner. Too stunned to find any words, she continued to gape at him as he lowered himself to sit on the branch and recline against the trunk. He didn't seem bothered by her speechlessness, patiently made himself comfortable and pulled out an orange.

"These are quite delicious," he said with a flippant air while she blinked from her stupor. He peeled away the rind and plucked out a sliver of the fruit to pop in his mouth. "Sweet but tart. It would go splendidly with ale. Ah! Next time you have need of me, just steal a few of these and leave them with a flagon of ale. No need to kill another rat. The bird is being well-fed by that fool trying to catch it. I believe I heard him mention something about a hare for his next trap. I do love a succulent, roasted rabbit. It'd be even better with the ale. Do you hear me, woman? I want ale next. And another of these fruits." He waved the orange in front of him. "And some sweet jam to go with that rabbit."

Nami shook off the last of her surprise to glare at the trickster. "You seem to be enjoying yourself," she remarked.

Loki grinned. "I have been given free rein to traipse around Midgard at my leisure and watch you muddle your way through this trial. This is almost as entertaining as the time we dressed Thor up in bridal garb. Put your wolf in a dress and flower crown and I might never want to return to Asgard." He glanced down through the boughs and his amusement waned. "Ah, but first we need free him from those bonds."

"You said he went too far," Nami prompted at the reminder of her purpose there. "Who bound Kid in those chains?"

Loki sneered as he continued to watch the wolf. "Pull the answer from your runes. It should be simple enough to figure out on your own."

She searched for her bag of amber stones and found it hanging from a smaller branch that grew from the one she sat on. She snatched the bag from the precarious spot and reached inside to pull out a rune as Loki advised. She opened her hand to find the jera rune and cocked her head to the side as she thought about who might be associated with it. She knew it must be a god, no mortal could possibly restrain Kid. Jera was a symbol of good harvest and connected to one god in particular; one she hadn't expected to be lending her aid.

"Really, I told him this was too much. He knows how I feel about the whole binding thing," Loki bemoaned, slumping back against the tree as he rubbed his wrists. "Even worse that he is a wolf. That is putting salt in a very old wound."

"Freyr is helping you?" she asked, curious of how involved these gods were in her life.

"Of course, he is." Loki shrugged. "We are all heavily invested in this wyrd that has been centuries in the making. We have each taken steps to lay this path before you and correct a mistake."

"A mistake you caused," she accused.

He gasped and placed his hand on his breast, staring at her as if she had wounded him. His affronted expression vanished when she glared, morphed into a sly smile and casual shrug. "It is not the first bit of mischief I've gotten into and it is far from the last."

"This mischief ended a man's life."

He shrugged again. "Not the first man to die. He was mortal. No matter what magic Freyja had gifted him with, he was fated to lose his life if he fought that giant. He gave it to Freyja as a sacrifice. It was a blood oath and that is a contract impossible to break. Even if he had survived his wounds, that oath would have bound him to her hall and forfeited what little life he had left. If he did not want to die, he could have forgotten Hnoss and gone about his life in Midgard. He could have married another woman and had the children he should have had and carried on becoming a king like the others in his line."

"And leave Hnoss to the giant's mercy?" she huffed.

"I would have brought her back," he said as though it were obvious. "If the chieftain had done nothing, as Freyja advised, I would have fetched the little sprite for her mother. If I did not, Thor was already polishing his hammer to take to my skull and I quite like my head the way it is." He lifted his nose with an arrogant snort. "It all worked out. Freyja was satisfied with a long winded-lecture. Her shrieking left me deaf in one ear for a decade. It still rings in bad weather, too."

"Oh, I'm sure you've suffered immensely," she bit out. "Are you here as part of your reparations for wronging Freyja."

"Mmm, yes and no," he answered with an obnoxiously knowing smile. "She does have a knack for holding things over my head, and if guilt does not move me, well, Thor is always happy to use that hammer I got him. That never fails to move me… away from him." He rolled his eyes and heaved a grudging sigh. "No, it is a favor to Hnoss. She said there are things only I can do. She is also the one who dispatched her uncle to meddle with the wolf, an errand he has taken a keen interest in. She is taking great care to see this end properly."

"Only you two are helping her?"

"Hardly," he snorted. "That deluded king was not wrong when he said many and more gods are at play in your very existence, as well as the existence of your wolf. We have all played our part. Freyr and I have personally invested ourselves in this matter, but the others are watching and moving when needed. Rán broke that seal, she and Aegir swept you to Noreg. Eir led you to Eustass. Njord was watching over your voyage to Britain and back. Thor warned you of this course, and I shoved you toward it. Sif watches over you for her husband now. Freyr has been taking especial care of Eustass since he began courting you, but he also sowed a few seeds decades ago to ensure he was bound at this juncture. I have had my eye on you since before you were born, doing what I must to give you all that you needed." He smiled as he stroked his beard. "And that is not even getting into the menagerie of gods and creatures that helped your respective family trees grow."

Her curiosity was piqued. Her life in comparison to the gods was a speck of dust, yet they had put in centuries of effort to get her to this point, a single moment in time that would pass them as though it were a blink of the eye. She could not fathom why, could not comprehend what purpose it served them.

"Why?" she asked, the only question that came to mind that encompassed all the questions she had.

Loki's head cocked to the side, his eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Why would the gods do all this? Why go through so much effort?" she elaborated.

Loki shrugged. "It's hardly any effort at all. If anything, it's an amusing lark." He raised a hand to silence her before she could snap at his flippancy. "Do not misunderstand, the energy we have put in to this is little more than tugging a string this way or that, guiding people to be at the right place, at the right time. For the rest of it, we are merely observing to see how it all unfolds because even we do not know for certain what will come because Hnoss has not seen fit to share all the details with those of us unable to see as she does." He leaned forward with a warm glimmer in his eye. "And as the centuries passed, I became very attached to this plot, and not because I find it all in good fun. Freyr is not the only one who has sown seeds, to put it mildly," he whispered

Nami's eyes widened at the suggestion. "You've…"

Loki straightened with a grin. "I have. Are you curious of the story? I have been eager to tell it." He gestured at his garb. "Why do you think I've appeared to you in the manner of a foreign lord? Your tales, do they not often describe me as having fiery hair." He swept a hand through his hair and she stared in wonder as the black melted away, transformed into locks as warm and bright as her own. They curled and flowed like soft flames, harkening to the oldest stories of the hearth god, the chaotic fire born from Laufey. "Are you not curious of my guise and the tale behind it?" he asked as his fiery hair faded back to black.

"Is it important that I know?" she asked while an odd excitement welled inside her. His hair is like mine, she thought to herself.

"Perhaps not now, but it is a story you will have need of hearing in the future. Assuming we succeed in this trial. I will not tell all of it, only a snippet. The most crucial element," he said, and all she could do was nod, eager to hear a tale she knew was about her. It had to be.

He did not mask how elated he was at her nod. Loki jumped to his feet to balance upon the branch and she knew he was prepared to put on a grand show.

"I shall regale you with a beautiful, yet ultimately tragic, love story," he proclaimed, sweeping his arms out in a grand gesture. She couldn't help but giggle at his boisterous display. The sound drew his whole attention to her as he grinned wide. "I haven't even begun and I've already got a laugh from you. If only Skadi had your good humor. It might have spared me from tying that goat to my nut-sack." He waved the remark off. "Now, don't distract me again, or we'll never get through this tale," he warned.

"Once upon a time, long, long ago—or, rather, eighty years. Thereabouts…" Loki trailed off, furrowing his brows in thought for a moment before he brushed the detail away and continued. "There was a noble family of Catalonia who had struggled for a male heir for years and years and years. Finally, after nine daughters, their God finally blessed them with the son they had desired. They rejoiced and celebrated, for surely their tenth child was a gift from the heavens."

Loki gestured wildly as he spoke, his tone filled with energy and exaggerated inflection. It amused her and conjured images of this unfamiliar family from a land she had only ever dreamed of seeing.

"The years passed. Their son grew tall and strong and handsome. He was devout and loyal and a mighty knight in battle against their Muslim invaders. The Frankish king had bestowed him with honors, promised him a wife from his family, but first he must sail across the Mediterranean to war with the Muslims that had taken Sicily. But alas"—Loki pressed his hand to his head and feigned distress—"a storm ravaged the sea and the army was feared lost. The Catalonian family wept when they heard the news, but even as they mourned, they prayed and prayed and prayed that their Lord in heaven would return their beloved child to them.

"Years passed. There were reports of wreckage found on the Northern coast of Africa, but the family refused to think it was his. It was too far south. No storm could blow him that far off course." Loki leaned down and cupped his hand around his mouth to whisper, "Rán did not hold back when I told her the ship was laden with gold." He pressed a finger to his lips to signal that was a secret and drew away with a wink as she snickered. "She washed away two islands. Never to be seen of again," he added. "Most tragic."

He returned to his tale with another wave of his arms. "But miracle of miracles, the prodigal son returns after five years away. Taller." Loki straightened himself to his full height and tilted his head back. "Stronger." He thumped a fist to his puffed chest. "And, some of the ladies would say handsomer." He gave her a lopsided grin as he stroked his jaw. "Though, his devotion to the Lord was… less than it was. Truly—non-existent. And his loyalty"—Loki shrugged—"questionable, at best." Nami pursed her lips to stifle a laugh. "But he had returned, and that was all that mattered. They would not question why his eyes seemed darker, his hair thicker, and his jaw more defined. Nor would they wonder where that adorable dimple in his chin came from. He was their one and only son. They do not question their son."

Loki sighed. "Honestly, they were fools. Anyone with a shred of sense could see that it was not their son. I made it plainly obvious. I could have walked around with a pale, gaunt face, green eyes, and blond hair, and they would have believed me if I continued to claim I was there son. One night I gave myself a pair of breasts, just for laughs and to see if they would ask. Not a single brow was raised. And they were very buxom. Hard to miss." He gestured at her own chest. "Would have put yours to shame."

Another flurry of his hands ended his tangent. "I digress! Their son lingered about their lands for a time, but with every passing day, he grew restless and stared off to the north. Finally, he went to his parents and declared that he needed to leave. He needed to see more of the world. Something was out there, waiting for him to snatch it up. Glory, riches, women… perhaps a man. That got their attention. Mother fainted and decided she had dreamed the last part, father decided that he meant a slave or some such servant boy. But, it was decided that he would make a pilgrimage to the holy city and be properly anointed by the Pope, himself. It might renew that lost piety their son had.

"But, as soon as I set out with a mighty stead and satchel of gold, not all knowingly given, I thumbed my nose at their God and turned north. I journeyed for weeks, over all manner of hill and mountain and marsh. I grew cold and achy and hungry and stumbled upon a vassal's modest home somewhere outside of Paris three months in. I fell from my horse outside their door, moaning as fever took me." As he mimicked his distress, she watched his skin turn ashen and sickly, his eyes and cheeks hollowed, his lips cracked and dried. The once strong god appeared weak, as though on death's doorstep. She knew it for the trick it was. She had feigned illness more times than she could count in life, often to get out of a chore or avoid Arlong's notice, twice to be welcomed into a home on previous attempts to flee Tingstad. Loki winked when he saw her knowing smile, and she swore she saw a glint of pride in his eye. "Blackness overcame me. I could only hear the alarmed shouts of the vassal's own servants before I was enveloped in tender, but remarkably strong arms. I slept for days. And when I awoke, lo! What did I see, but a beautiful angel at my bedside, praying for my health and recovery."

Loki crouched down in front of her, his smile wry and amused. "Now this woman, she was the hearty sort. Put my attempt at a bosom to shame, I dare say. Had the hips of a giantess. Could have birthed a hoard of dragons for me. Angrboda would have envied her if they had met. I know I did. She had no easy time birthing Fenrir and Jormungand, and I swear Sleipnir made me never want to experience childbirth again. This woman would not have suffered so, I was sure. And she was a sweet little thing, as kind and loyal as my Sigyn, but strong. She would have fought a bear if I asked it of her and likely won. Utterly terrifying woman on her worst days. But I was besotted." He placed his hand over his heart and sighed. "I wasted no time seducing her. Turned into a horrendous scandal that nearly got the both of us hanged. Fortunately, she was with child, and the church would not take the life of an innocent babe, so I paid off her father—who just so happened to be brother to the Norman Duke—and married the lass to make everyone happy. They gave us a quaint little fiefdom, far away from the duchy so we would not cause any more of a stir, and we set off to begin our happy family life.

"My new wife was well into her pregnancy while we traveled, due at any time. We tried to hurry to our home, but our carriage struck a hole and broke a wheel. I found a cheese merchant traveling nearby, heading in the same direction, and got my wife into the back while her servant was left to fuss with the broken carriage.

"We were nearly home when she let out a mighty roar. The merchant thought her to be a dragon, but she was just giving birth to what I assumed would be another monster with how much she writhed and screamed. I pitied the poor girl. Seems childbirth is painful no matter how well built a woman is. Luckily, among the crates of cheese were barrels of wine, so I paid the merchant to open a cask and had the woman drink deep to hopefully ease her pains. It didn't help much. She still grabbed me by the neck and nearly throttled the life out of me while she cursed me for putting that demon inside her." He laughed. "She truly was a wonderful woman.

"After hours of agony, our son came into the world and my wife's foul mood was gone as though it never was. She glowed with motherhood as she held this giant, squirming babe to her breast, cooing in delight at his fat cheeks. He was as hearty as his mother and I had no doubt he would have a giant's stature. He had a cute little dimple in his chin, just like his old man. And, it was the queerest thing, but the boy's hair was not the black of my guise, nor the tawny brown of my mortal wife's. It was the color of amber, of fire just a touch duller than mine own. My wife did not question it, too besotted with the boy eagerly suckling her.

"She looked at me with this radiant smile, filled with love and affection. She had just birthed a giant's babe in the back of a merchant's cart, surrounded by barrels of wine and cheese, but she was as happy as she would be if it were a bed of down and silk.

"She promised to birth me nine more sons, as healthy and hearty as our first. I was touched." He sighed. "She would have given me ten sons without any trouble, but, alas, it was not meant to be. She had just begun to ween the little monster from her teat when her loving husband was called to war against the Slavs. All that was returned to her was a head covered in pitch, so broken it was unrecognizable.

"Rather than mourn, the woman grew ever more determined. She swore upon her husband's empty grave that she would raise their one and only boy to be as mighty as ten. He would be a hero of lore, a noble knight in service to his duke and king. He would slay every manner of criminal and beast and lift their family to a more noble station than a bastard ever attained." Loki sat down and sank back against the tree with a wane smile. "He did become a hero for a time. Was respected, idolized, near worshiped by some. But, madness touched his mind and he died a drunken, cruel monster incapable of loving his own family."

"But… he was my father?" she asked, sensing that was all to the story Loki would tell.

Loki nodded. "That he was. After your mother died, he clung to life with fervent greed, and managed to survive another six years before he was slayed by a demon crueler than he. The honor he had in life was long gone, he had no claim for a place in Freyja's hall, but he is comfortable in my daughter's realm. She has given him peace in death."

"And he left family behind?"

Loki snorted. "He did. Your giant in Tingstad has told you true. You have kin in Normandy, but they would rather believe you dead. It is better that way."

"Who is left there? If my father had no siblings, it must be another child, or perhaps his mother," she urged.

Loki shook his head. "That is a tale you need not know, at least not yet. The only reason I told you my tale is because you do need to know that there is more to you than the magic of your mothers. You have a keen cunning that I gave to you, a skill to manipulate those around you to get exactly what you want. It is a trait you have need of most here." He pointed down at the wolf still fighting his chains below. "It is a trait he needs you to have if he is going to see victory. You must not rely solely on your seidr, no matter how powerful its potential may be. The mad king will expect it and his magic is far greater than your own. He will beat you a dozen times over in that sort of battle. Rely on your wits. They have been at your disposal since your birth, unhindered by that mark on your shoulder."

He leaned forward with a stern frown. "No matter your displeasure with the tricks I have played, my nature has been of aid to the gods time and again, and not always to fix a mess of my creation. If you wish to incite change, you must never worry about the rules. Make your own rules and force the world to bend to them."

Nami could not argue with his reason. She knew the tales, knew that Loki was not always a thorn in the gods' sides. His worst charges were not to come until the end, and if he was sitting before her, free of his bonds, then that end had not yet come.

"Why are you not bound?" she asked, unable to resist learning about the trickster before her. Few people would ever have this opportunity. She doubted any could attest to coming so close to him, even if he had answered calls in the past and offered his aid to others in Midgard.

Loki glared at her. "We do not exist in the same way that you do. Our timelines are not straight." He gestured up at the tree's canopy, reminding her of the rain that trickled over them, a symbol of the future pulled from the wells of the past. "You go from birth to death to whatever realm you are fated for. We exist in an ether, a time between times, a place between places. Here I am free, but elsewhere I am bound. And elsewhere I am free, while here and now I am bound." He raised his hands and she watched as shackles appeared on his wrists. "I am both and neither and other. All the tales are true and all the tales are false and all the tales are unknown. Ragnarok will set the world ablaze tomorrow and yet Ragnarok set the world ablaze yesterday. As I am sitting here with you now, I am also stealing Brísingamen, and saving a boy from a giant, and partaking in an eating contest against wildfire itself, and tricking dwarves into making treasures for the gods, and stealing Idunn away with her apples, and tricking Hodr into slaying Baldur, and at the same time not having any part in that tale at all. And I am also drunk and hollering insults at the gods, and enduring as they sew my mouth shut, and watching my sons transformed into wolves to tear each other apart, and being bound by their entrails while Sigyn holds a bowl over my head to stop me from being burned, and breaking free to lead the charge of giants out of Muspelheim with Surt to burn the nine realms to ash. I am doing all of these things, and I am doing none. I am all the versions of myself, and yet I am none, save for the me that is sitting here with my grandchild, explaining to her the mysteries of the lore."

She sat in silence when he finished his explanation. She couldn't comprehend how he could be all and none, but she knew what he said was true. She was raised on the stories, knew that they were different in other places, could be twisted and changed at will. They would call upon gods, upon Loki, upon whatever spirit might lend aid, yet so many of the tales would claim them dead or bound.

He laughed. "There is a reason Odin gave his eye to see," he said. "To understand all of this world and the others and time, itself, is no easy feat. You would be best not to think too hard on it, lest you go mad, and I cannot have you losing your wits at this crucial moment."

"All right," she said, shaking away her thoughts. "Then can I ask you about other things?" He cocked his head to the side, urging her to explain. "You said multiple gods and creatures were involved in not only my existence, but Kid's, as well. Is that why Freyr is watching over him? Is he related to Kid?"

Loki's eyes widened in surprise before he fell back, clutching his stomach as he was overcome with raucous laughter. He nearly fell out of the tree, he laughed so hard. She waited until he struggled to hold back his mirth, wiping tears from his eyes as he let out one last snort.

"That… Oh my, I will have to inform Freyr of that question. He will be most wroth. He hardly approves of that man as your suitor and is not keen on having him join the family, but to think he lent seed toward his creation." Loki cackled again. "He would be insulted, and that is difficult to do. Trust me, I've accused him of fucking his sister, and he just shrugged it off. Then again, their mother is supposedly their aunt, so an accusation of incest is hardly of a concern to any of the Vanir." He waved blithely. "But no, Freyr is not related in any way to your wolf. I can safely attest that Eustass carries no Vanir blood. You are the one all tribes have lent themselves to. His ancestry comes from the Aesir and the Jotunn and perhaps a dwarf or dark elf, though I am less certain on that."

Giants? She knew better than to be surprised. Kid was large and intimidating, sometimes more beast than man, but she still had not expected to hear that she had been under the protection of yet another giant. Then again, most of the gods were giant in part or full. Even Enel, boasting of his ancestor Thor, shared the god's jotunn traits.

Loki scratched his beard and hummed in thought. "On his grandfather's side, I believe Thor's son from the giantess Járnsaxa, Magni, took a human maid for a lover and had a child by her. I think that is where the red in his hair originates. Tyr had a lover within his grandfather's family. I believe his cousins take after him more than he does, but he is not without his own sense of justice, I suppose. Ullr, Sif's son by another, is also of relation. He is distantly related to the giants Suttungr and Gunnlod by way of Bragi, this from his mother's mother. Magni and Bragi are the first seed Odin gave to his family, though on his mother's side, and not given intentionally." He furrowed his brows. "I believe I unintentionally left my mark on that family, as well. You have heard the story of the creatures I birthed after eating a witch's heart, yes? Well, I might be wrong, but if I remember correctly, one of those ogres forced himself on a farm girl, centuries ago. I would refrain from sharing that with Eustass, though. I can't imagine him taking kindly to hearing his mother might be part-ogress. Even less if that beast forced his way into the family tree."

"So, you did not have anything to do with his father's side?" Nami asked. "Kid had remarked once that his father was as sly and manipulative as you. I assumed you would be responsible for that."

Loki snorted. "I am not the only manipulative one in Asgard. In fact, I would say I am the most honest liar in that realm." He shook his head. "No, the monster that sired him has nothing to do with me. My brother is to blame for that."

"Odin?" He had said that Magni and Bragi were the first seeds Odin had given, that meant there was more.

"It is not a pleasant tale, but it is the truth. Odin has always been willing to lie and trick and steal for his own ambition, this is something all your stories tell of. He turned himself into a snake and seduced Gunnlod to steal the mead of poetry. He raped Rinda so that Váli would be born to slay Hodr and avenge Baldur. He regularly betrays the warriors he favors and sees that they die in battle when they are the strongest. He breaks oaths by weaving his words carefully, leaving an opening to worm his way out, and if that fails, he uses me to save him. Nothing will stand in his way of attaining the knowledge and power he craves. In Eustass's case, he desired a beast carved from fury, a wolf to fight a wolf, a warrior that would serve in his army with more might than any man possessed before." Loki sighed. "If not for the influence of the other gods on his mother's side, Odin may very well have gotten that mindless, faithful beast he desired, the true embodiment of Odr, of frenzy and madness.

"Eustass's sire was born of Odin's manipulations. His mother had just married and a stranger had come in the middle of their celebrations to give gifts to the couple. He stayed the whole night and got her new husband blind drunk before turning his sights on her. She refused him at first. She needed to consummate her marriage with her husband, not with a stranger. But he would not take no for an answer.

"The stranger helped her carry her husband to bed and there again tried to seduce her. When she refused, he poured mead into a cup of his own making and gave it to her. Within that cup, he had carved runes to conjure lust and passion and madness in whoever drank from it, so when he seduced her again, she did not refuse. Could not refuse.

"He took her while her new husband slept off his mead beside them and got her with his child—the cruel, manipulative, greedy jarl that sired your wolf in just as dark a manner."

Loki's story filled her with dread. Her heart ached for Kid and she feared that his was already a lost cause. If Odin had gone to such lengths to create him, then he would go to greater lengths to have him for Valhol.

"Do not fear," Loki whispered, leaning forward with a sympathetic smile. "Odin desires a man who has made a name for himself, that is why he is gambling on this plot, but your family has other plans in mind. Freyr is there to soothe the beast and temper his rage, grooming him for his purpose in your life, the exact opposite of what Odin desires. Meanwhile, Freyja is biding her time before she must make her choice."

"Her choice?" Nami asked, uncertain if she should let herself hope.

Loki nodded. "Odin will dispatch his valkyries to see that Eustass falls when he needs him to, but that is where Freyja has her advantage. She is the queen of the valkyries and has first pick. She can save Eustass from Valhol."

But she would not be able to save his life. It was impossible to bring a dead man back to life, impossible to free him from that fate. He would go to one god or the other when the time came. She knew better than to hope.

"And I have dispatched my own agent to throw their whole scheme into chaos," Loki added, and she jerked her head up to stare at him in surprise. "They have their rules, and I have mine. Meaning I have none, whatsoever, and will do whatever I wish in this game," he laughed.

"Your agent?" She gasped. "Corazon?"

Loki nodded as he chuckled.

"How is he meant to help in this? What is he after, anyway? Why him? How does he even know about me?" she asked, crawling toward Loki to get in his face. "I don't know him, how can I trust him to help me?"

"You need not trust him," Loki assured as he reached out to pat her on the head. "Just trust me."

"Why?"

"Because I'm your grandsire?" he offered. She narrowed her eyes and he heaved a deep sigh before patting her on the head once more. "Because I'm fond of you. Truly. Between Freyja's magic, Thor's thunder, and my chaos, you have the power to send the whole world into disarray if you desire it. But you don't, likely Freyr's influence, and that is a noble trait I quite respect."

She could sense no lie from him, only truth, but she remained uncertain. She sank back to sit on her knees and frowned at Loki. "Then, what of Corazon?"

"Hmmm, what of him, indeed?" His tone was filled with mischief, as was his lopsided grin. "I like that man. He reminds me of me. And yet not. He is handsome and has his own charisma, but lacks my particular charm and humor. There is just something about him that sparks my interest. But ah, his motives. They are elusive. I wonder what he is after?"

His laughter told her that he knew Corazon's motives, but refused to share.

"And now I am bored with this conversation and you need to leave," he said, waving her off.

She gaped at his abrupt dismissal. "Wait! I called for you to help me. What am I supposed to do about him?" she asked, pointing down at the chained wolf.

"You're smart. You will figure something out." He shrugged. "If you wish to chat more, just remember the ale and oranges. And jam. Oh, or maybe wine instead of ale. Thinking of those barrels of wine has made me thirst for it again. Raid your king's stores and fetch me wine."

"But—"

"Oh, you're out of time," he interrupted. "We'll talk later."

He did not wait for her to respond and unceremoniously shoved her off the branch with his foot. She screamed as she tumbled through Yggdrasil's branches and woke in her mortal form with a jolt.

She was greeted by a pair of golden eyes shining with mirth a hair's breadth from her own. It took a moment before she recognized them as Corazon's and shrieked in surprise. Her balance lost, she fell off the branch she had been sitting on from the start and crashed to the ground.

Corazon sat on his haunches in front of her, chuckling as she scrambled to push herself up on her hands. She growled at his crooked smirk.

"What do you think you're doing?" she shrieked at him.

"I was trying to understand where your mind went," he explained with a quiet snort. "Your eyes were open but did not seem to be seeing what was in front of you. I was curious."

"Did you have to sit that close? You startled me," she yelled.

"I called to you, but you did not answer. I have been sitting here watching you for a while. Do not blame me for your lack of awareness, just be fortunate I'm not a murderer." He sighed when she scowled at him. "All right, be fortunate that I have no interest in murdering you."

Nami rolled her eyes. "I am blessed to have that honor," she remarked sarcastically, prompting Corazon to grin. "Now, what are you doing here?"

"Pagaya invited me to supper. I was passing by on my way to his house when I spotted you," he explained.

The reminder of supper had her sitting straight as she gave an alarmed shout. "I promised to help prepare the meal," she said and rushed to pull herself up off the ground.

Corazon grunted as he stood and offered his hand. The gesture surprised her and she stared at the hand for a moment, wondered if she should take it. He let out a frustrated sigh before he made the decision for her and snatched her hand in his to haul her off the ground. At his touch, her heart lurched painfully in her chest and she jerked away as soon as she was on her feet, stumbling back a step to put distance between them.

He paid her no mind as she clutched her hand to her chest and fought off the crawling sensation that worked its way down her spine. She willed herself not to tremble, ignored the way her hairs stood on end, and stared at the man who caused the reaction.

It felt as though someone had clutched her heart in their fist when he took her hand. That could not be a good omen. What was Loki thinking to send him as his agent? This man could not be trusted.

"Are these your stones?" Corazon asked as he stared down at her makeshift altar and the amber scattered over it.

She shook away the foreboding sensation and focused on the pouch and loose stones. "They are," she answered and crouched down to gather them up. "I was practicing."

"The king mentioned you share his gifts. Were you seeing a vision just now?" he asked.

She hummed in response but refused to say anything on the subject. He did not need to know about her visions. Loki may have sent him to aid her, but he also said that she need not trust him.

Until Corazon gave her reason to believe he meant her no harm, she would remain wary and keep him at arm's length.

With her stones gathered and returned to their pouch, and the empty box tucked under her arm, Nami spun on her heel and headed toward Pagaya's without a word to Corazon. She heard him chuckle as he followed, but ignored him. She did not want to be left alone with him any longer than necessary, not when that laugh sent another shiver down her spine.

Death walked behind her. And, somehow, that was meant to be a comfort.

---

Corazon knew Nami would not trust him so easily, but he had hoped that she was more naïve than he expected. She had softened to him that first night in Oslo while they ate dinner together, but after over a week without speaking, the harshness and suspicion returned. Even if she did not trust him yet, he still thought she would be polite and civil toward him. Instead, he was given a cold shoulder.

Whatever attitude she gave him, he would find a way to work with her.

He followed her to Pagaya's, observing the stiffness in her gait and the haste in her steps. She was running from him. It would do her no good. He would catch her in the end, even if he had to chase her for a year.

A twig snapped off to his right as they crested the hill to find Pagaya's house. He glanced to the side and caught movement in the trees. Whatever was there vanished into a shadow, hidden by thick foliage. Corazon stared for a moment as his skin prickled with the curious sensation of being watched. He felt a flash of unease when he heard a growl, but brushed it off as an animal prowling for a meal.

"Corazon," Pagaya hollered in greeting, drawing his attention away from the noise in the forest.

He glanced to the house to see the older man wave as he sat beside the cart he had been repairing that day. Nami had disappeared into the house while he was distracted. Corazon decided it would be best to wait to speak with her later. She was skittish of him after whatever vision she had, it was best to let her be. He would ease into the questions he had.

"I have the poultice," Corazon said as he came over. "How is the hand feeling?"

"Stiff, but I will manage," Pagaya answered.

Corazon nodded as he pulled out a small wooden container that fit snug in his palm and handed it to Pagaya. "Use this morning and night after thoroughly washing the wound. It should be better within a week. You can return what's left when the swelling goes down around the cut."

"Thank you," Pagaya said, smiling. "Conis said supper should be ready soon. Would you like a cup of ale while you wait?"

"Please."

Pagaya had attempted to help his daughter with supper, but the women shooed him out of the house to rest. The cut on his hand would heal better if he did not strain it, something both Nami and Conis were aware of without Corazon saying so. They sat outside together, drinking and talking of mundane things—the weather, the fishing, the harvest—until Conis called them in to eat.

Supper consisted of whitefish soaked in a buttery broth, a block of cheese, vegetable stew, and flatbread—the last all that he would not eat. It was simple fare, nothing like the meals he knew the king served in his hall, but it smelled good and was heartier than the fried fish he would have made for himself that night.

He took the seat beside Nami and swallowed a laugh when her back straightened with obvious discomfort. She tried to hide the tremor in her hands as she reached for the bread, but he noticed the subtle shake. He could not understand why she feared him. He had done her no harm, at least none that she was aware of.

"Why do you not eat with the king tonight?" he asked while serving himself fish. If Nami was so fearful of him, then she would be better served within the fortress. He could come and go as he pleased, unless Enel changed his mind, but she could hide in her rooms, where he was not allowed. She knew that if she visited Pagaya, she would likely have to be in his company. As soon as she heard he would have supper with them, she should have made her way back to the hall to avoid him if she meant to treat him so coldly.

"He left this morning to visit the nearby farmlands. I'm free to eat where I please until he returns," she answered. Nami did not bother to meet his gaze and her tone was harsh. She did not want to speak with him and normally he would not care, but he needed her compliance if he would have his way.

"Won't the other priests miss your company?"

Nami shrugged in response. He knew the priests did not act familiar with each other, and he remembered the tense atmosphere that surrounded Nami and the traitor from Drafn. It seemed that had not improved over the days she had been there.

"Have they treated you well in the hall?" he asked, hoping to tease a conversation from her.

Her gaze remained fixed on her meal as she shrugged once more. She was going to whittle away all of his patience with this silent act. Something was amiss. Even Pagaya and Conis had taken notice and stared between them in confusion. Corazon sighed in frustration.

"What has been said to you?" he asked in a sharp Frankish tongue.

Nami's head snapped up and her attention finally turned to him, her eyes wide. He had taken a wild guess that someone within the hall had tempered whatever sliver of trust she had given him when they spoke. He should have taken better care with his words.

"I have not spoken a word to you since your first night here," he continued with a glare. He took care to speak Frankish with Nami. Even if they were away from the king; he could not trust anyone to be privy to this conversation. Even Pagaya and Conis could not be trusted. "I thought you had moved past your unwarranted mistrust in me, but it seems you have had a change of heart. What have I done to wrong you that deserves your coldness?"

Nami's surprise transformed into simmering anger as she turned in her chair to face him. "How do you know I speak Frankish?" she asked in the foreign tongue. Even if she mistrusted him, she seemed aware enough of the danger she was in to follow his lead. "How did you know I was in Drafn before Nezumi arrived? How did you know who was protecting me? Enel said you knew of me. How? What is your interest in me?"

Corazon sighed. He should have anticipated this. "I had heard stories of you."

"What stories?" she interrupted. "There should be no stories."

"There are more stories than you would know," he assured. "I was unaware of the stories within your lands. These tales of gods and giants hold no importance to me. The only stories I heard were of your relation to a certain man in Normandy, a relation that Nezumi and Arlong seem interested in taking advantage of."

"I know what interest they have in that supposed kinship, but what does that have to do with you?" she asked with a cold glare.

Corazon shrugged. "Little, to be honest," he lied. "Your father's family is one I am not overly familiar with, but I have had dealings with them and when I heard the tales of your father's madness and the bastard girl from Svealand, I was curious." She narrowed her eyes in obvious suspicion. She did not believe a word he said. Shrewd girl, but he pressed on. "They were nothing more than rumors, whispers in others' ears. I confirmed in my questioning of Nezumi that the source of the rumors was a sworn brother of Arlong's, a northman called Jinbei who happens to be a grudging ally to the Frankish empire.

"I wanted to know if these rumors were true, if a dead girl lived, and approached a druid who might have knowledge beyond my reach. I wanted my curiosity assuaged because no matter what I did to ignore it, it continued to nag at me," he explained. "I have no faith in a druid's cleromancy, just as I have no faith in the stories of your gods or any others, so I had hoped that the answers I received would be vague and dismissive and maybe even confirm that you were dead so that I could put it to rest. Instead I was told to come here, that I would meet you for myself, and that it was a task I must undertake with great care for a trickster had set me upon it.

"In short, my only interest is to learn that you exist, are in fact a lost daughter of Normandy, and go about my merry away once that curiosity is sated," he reassured while she searched his gaze for a sign of his lies. "And while I am here, I am to serve some purpose to you."

"If you have no faith, why are you so willing to believe a trickster set you on this path?" she asked. "How do you know that falcon watches over me?"

If she asked any more questions, she would no doubt begin to pull apart his lies to find the truth. She would catch him in a web of deceit somewhere. He would have to take care to put her suspicions abed.

"Because I am aware that there are things in this world even I do not understand," he explained. "It is convoluted, yes, but every step that led me closer to you, brought more clarity and order, and that has, in turn, given me a sense of purpose. I am needed here, and I cannot ignore that."

"And what of Kid? How did you know of him?"

Corazon snorted. "The druid made certain to warn me of a great, ravenous wolf protecting you. I understand Eustass's sigil is a wolf. A very simple connection to make once I learned more of the people ruling in these territories."

"And the Frankish language?"

That was the simplest question to answer, one that did not require a lie. "When Nezumi and those giants explained their interest in your kin in Normandy, I felt it safe to assume you were groomed for their purpose in Frankish lands. I assume you know more than Frankish, that you know the common French tongue, perhaps even the Norman dialect." She nodded. "This language is far from my strongest, but it is one we have in common, one that the king does not share. It was a blessing to find a language to whisper secrets in without fear of being understood."

Tension leaked from Nami's posture as she frowned in thought. She was questioning her own suspicions, all the thoughts of mistrust Enel had planted in her mind, but her gaze remained distant and uncertain. She was not simple, she would not believe him so easily. He would just have to keep her mind from overthinking those questions. She needed to be focused on the bigger picture.

"I was prepared to toss my curiosity aside if you failed to be the woman I sought," he whispered, leaning in closer to her. "I went with Ohm to spy upon your village before the attack." Nami's eyes widened at the admission. "The moment I saw your bright amber hair, I knew the rumors to be true and could not turn away." That much was true, though he would not let her know that the first glimpse of her had come in Britain. He would hide that lie of omission behind a truth, one she would find no contrary to since all the others within Enel's hall believed that to be the first time he saw her, as well. "And I also learned something far more important than who you are," he added with a crooked smirk. "I saw you with your wolf as he left. I believe it is safe to assume Eustass will not let you go so easily. He will bring war to this village."

"And that concerns you, because…?" she prompted.

He had her distracted with the reminder of the wolf. He was at the forefront of her mind, he could see her worries in the quiver of her eyes. She knew Eustass would come for her and that he would destroy everything in his path to have her back.

"Because I mean to be on the victorious side," he answered. "And I am certain that victory hinges on you. As to who you mean to aid and favor, I can only guess, but that does not matter to me. I offer you my allegiance. My true allegiance."

"Why would you believe my side to be the victorious one? It only took one day in this village for me to know that Enel was stronger than he appeared, that he would not be defeated easily. Surely you are aware that anyone who might position themselves against him will fail. If you put yourself behind me, then you are risking your own life at what is a gamble, at best. Your own victory will not be certain, so why believe otherwise?" She was full of questions. As irritating as it was to spend this time convincing her to go his way, he had to respect her guarded nature. That sort of thoughtfulness and intelligence would keep her alive. She was not reckless or impetuous, she would not behave like an idiot. He could depend on a woman who remained wary, he could predict her movements and decisions. The more he knew of her, the easier it would be to move her as he needed.

"With so many people seeking you out," he began to explain, "I believe that means you are the most valuable piece on the board. Whoever supports you will have a greater advantage over all others." He leaned forward to hold her gaze as he grinned. "And does this mean you intend to position yourself against the king? Do you mean to topple his empire before it's even been born?"

Her eyes widened and she pursed her lips as she realized what she inadvertently admitted. She turned away with such haste, her hair whipped across his face, forcing him to sit back and watch a strained smile tug up her lips as she acknowledged the two others in the room. Conis and Pagaya ate with wary gazes on them, confusion swirling in their eyes.

"Conis, I have been thinking, I would like to visit Enel's oak trees tomorrow," she said, blatantly dropping their conversation. "I want to gather some acorns."

"Oh… certainly…" her handmaiden responded, though her tone did not seem so certain.

"And I found a small patch of rowans near here that seem very similar to the ones in the courtyard," Nami continued, as though ignorant of Conis's hesitation. "Are they of the same age?"

"Gan Fall planted the rowans in the courtyard," Conis answered with her brows furrowed. "He took the seeds from the rowans on this peninsula. He said it would bring his whole realm prosperity to have Sif given such a grand display in his hall. They are beautiful trees and the Christians thought nothing of the grove when he converted. They assumed it to be decoration."

"Did he plant the trees near the home I'm staying in?" Corazon asked.

Conis nodded. "He did. He loved to watch the trees grow from little buds, into saplings, and into the adults they are now. He had no children of his own, so I believe he put much of that unused energy and love into his groves and farms."

Conversation turned to village gossip and stories of how things were before Enel began his reign. Nami refused to speak to him again, all too eager to talk of the mundane. She appeared cheerful and unbothered, but each time he shifted and deigned to speak up, she stiffened expectantly. Even when he attempted to be polite and held the pitcher of ale to signal he would pour her another cup, she glared at him.

The distance she sought to maintain had grown wearisome for him. She would need a hard shove to make her see him as an ally to trust.

"Lady Nami," he said with mock politeness once conversation lulled. Their plates were empty, but their cups full, and Nami had finally relaxed as she drank deep from her cup. She leaned forward with her elbows planted on the table, propping her cup to her lips in a lazy, casual posture. As soon as he said her name, she shot a glare at him from the corner of her eye. At least she acknowledged him. "There is something I've been meaning to ask you," he began in Frankish, careful to keep his face stoic and bored. "Who is Nojiko?"

The name had her full attention. She straightened her back and slammed her cup to the table with enough force to crack it. Her wide eyes were filled with a myriad of emotion, not the least of which a trembling fear even he could recognize. As she turned to face him, she curled her hands into fists to hide how they shook. An interesting reaction he had not expected, not when Nezumi claimed her to be so cold toward her sworn sister.

"How do you know that name?" Her voice was breathless, on the verge of panic, but he could tell she tried to retain some sense of composure in her carefully articulated words.

"I told you, I have been questioning Nezumi," he explained. This would be his best chance to see who the real Nami was, and thus far he was not disappointed. "Given proper persuasion, he has been very willing to speak of you and your trials. He specifically told me to ask you of her. He said you abandoned her to Arlong's mercy, that she would be punished for your sins."

Nami's chair scraped against the wood floor as she abruptly stood.

"Lady Nami?" Conis asked, but her lady ignored her as she looked down at him with a cold, harsh glare. Her chest heaved with rapid breaths to give away her panic, but her eyes had turned to ice.

"Take me to him," she commanded.

He glared back at her. "Do not presume to give me orders, Lady Nami."

She arched a delicate amber brow. "Do not presume to goad me into action and then do nothing about it," she retorted in a biting tone. He was impressed. Until she smacked him upside the head. "Take me to him."

His darkened glare went ignored as Nami stormed toward the door. She turned back once with an expectant stare and waved for him to do as she commanded. He was tempted to give her a rude gesture and tell her to find Nezumi herself, but he really did need her to trust him.

With a grudging sigh, he stood to lead her out of the house. He paused at the door to glower at her. "Has anyone told you that you're a bossy little witch," he muttered.

Nami crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes as she snorted a quiet laugh. "No. Never," she said with obvious sarcasm. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a rude, arrogant little ass?" she mocked.

He couldn't restrain his grin even if he wanted to. "Never," he lied and turned to step outside.

"I won't be long," Nami called to Conis before she followed him out.

He was fortunate that the handmaiden did not attempt to join them, but she appeared too confused by Nami's changed demeanor to question the woman she was in servitude to. He did not need any more witnesses to see whatever happened between Nami and Nezumi, especially if what occurred gave him leverage with Nami. He needed to have an advantage where others did not.

As he led Nami along the path that followed the rocky coast, he ignored the sensation of someone watching that crawled down his spine. He glanced over his shoulder at Nami and noticed her gaze fixated on the trees around them, searching and guarded. He wondered if she sensed what he did.

"Does the king have guards on you?" he asked in Frankish.

"Not that I'm aware of," she said, her voice hushed and wary. "He appears to trust me. At least, he is so confidant in his hold on me that he does not worry about me. If I tried to flee, he would find me."

Corazon hummed in thought. Enel might be confidant, but he would be a fool not to have a guard on her. She may be a willing hostage, but she was still a hostage. If she did not run, there was always a chance that a spy from Drafn could slip in and capture her back while the king was away. Perhaps Enel believed that he would foresee such an attempt.

"What else has Nezumi told you of me?" Nami asked as they neared his temporary home.

"That you are greedy and wretched and not to be trusted," he answered frankly. "He called you a witch only concerned with yourself, that you would sell your own family for your freedom." He glanced back at the sound of her growl and cocked a brow at her. "What do you intend to do to my specimen?"

Nami answered with a tight smile that almost appeared bloodthirsty. "Nothing," she said far too sweetly.

He grunted and dismissed her feigned innocence. He would let her do as she pleased, so long as she left Nezumi alive.

As soon as the house was in view, Nami rushed passed him. He caught a glimpse of her eyes and swore fire licked at her irises. Her expression was a stony scowl, but those eyes were filled with deadly anger.

"Nezumi," she screamed as she slammed the door open. Corazon rushed after her when he heard his captive's chains rattle and a terrified scream. Inside he found Nami in front of Nezumi's cage, one hand gripped a bar, the other had reached through to grab him by the throat and slam him forward. His gag was out, explaining why he heard the scream so clearly. "What has he done to her?" Nami shrieked at the man now at her mercy. "Tell me!"

Nezumi tittered with nervous laughter. "Lady Nami," he croaked. "I would be glad to tell you of your sister." He paused to gasp for a breath around the tight grip on his throat. His face turned red as he struggled to grin. "Just release me so I can breathe, woman."

She released him and flung him back as she stood to growl down at him. Her hands balled into fists and gave away the temper she restrained. Her whole body appeared to vibrate with a leashed energy, tense and trembling. She looked ready to destroy everything around her if she did not get whatever answers she sought.

Nezumi rubbed his throat. Nami hadn't held him for long, but Corazon could see red marks that would surely bruise form on his neck. She might be interested in her sister's condition, but that grip spoke of a darker intent. She was prepared to kill the man in front of her if his answer did not satisfy her.

"Nezumi," she said in an icy tone. "What has he done?"

"It's lovely to see you, too, Lady Nami," Nezumi said with mocking politeness. He was a fool if he did not see the danger of the situation he was in. The woman was not stable. She was looking for any reason to unleash her buried rage. "Arlong sends his regards and hopes you return to him soon. He misses you fiercely."

"Nezumi," she screamed in warning.

He heaved a sigh. "The last I saw her, she was alive, though I cannot presume that she was wholly well. Arlong had her in his hall, playing servant woman with some modicum of the freedoms he allowed you two before, but she still swims in shark infested waters because of you."

Nami's hands tightened to mask how they shook. Corazon shifted closer to see the side of her face. Her lips pursed as her stony visage cracked.

"He whipped her to learn where you might be," Nezumi added. Corazon watched as her eyes widened in surprise and she cracked a little more. He swore she had stopped breathing. "And she forgot her place while I was there and Kuroobi struck her for it. She is fortunate that is all he did. Her attitude is begging to have her tongue ripped out. But you would not care about that, would you?" Nami could not hide how violently she shook as Nezumi smiled at her. "Arlong has promised me your hoard when I return you, by the way. You likely care more about that gold than your sister. Even she knows that gold is more important than her life. Her argument against the reward is what got her struck." Nami finally began to breathe again, but they came in short gasps. "Perhaps you and I can strike a deal here. Help me escape this place and return with me. I will let you keep your hoard."

Corazon was surprised to see Nami relax at the suggestion. She appeared to be considering the offer. Did she truly care that much more for her gold? Was her sister's life so meaningless to her?

But then Nezumi laughed again. "I will just ask Arlong for Nojiko as a reward," he commented. "The men I have remaining in Francia could use her to lift morale after losing so many brothers on this fool's errand."

Nami's anger broke free with a scream and she lunged for the cage. Nezumi shrieked in surprise as she reached through the cage bars to scratch at his face. He curled into a ball to protect himself when she tried to grab him by the throat again. When she saw he was safe in his cage, she pulled away and searched the room. She spotted the key beside his bed and ran for it. Corazon caught her by the arm just before she reached it.

"Release me," she screamed at him and fought his grip.

"No," he said flatly as he tugged her away. When she attempted to smack him, he captured her wrist and wrangled her into his arms.

"Let me kill him," she shrieked as she lashed out at his hold.

"No," he repeated.

She kicked his shins, tried to knee him between the legs. He spun her around and trapped her arms against her as he lifted her from the floor. Her legs thrashed as he carried her to the door. She continued to scream for him to release her, pled for him to let her murder his captive. Her struggles weakened once he got her outside. A sob tore from her throat.

"Just let me kill him," she rasped. "I can't let him have her."

"I can't allow him to die here." He set her down but refused to release her until he felt it safe to. "He has his uses."

"What uses?" she spat out with unveiled contempt. "He is a conniving rat."

"I cannot disagree with that, but even a rat has his uses," he said quietly. "He is a weak and pathetic man, scrambling for purchase on a sinking ship. He will die someday, and I am certain it will be a miserable death, but it cannot be here."

Nami slumped forward with a broken sob. "I can't let him have her."

"And he won't have her," he assured, though he doubted she was referring to Nezumi anymore. He was merely the only one she had to lash out at. Her body became heavy as she hung her head, her face hidden behind a veil of amber hair. "He's just trying to get under your skin. He wants a reaction from you. He wants you to feel hopeless and afraid so that you run back to Arlong on your own."

Nami shook her head and shoved at him. He felt no real fight in her, so released her without any further struggle. She turned around while she wiped at her bloodshot eyes. "I know that," she said. Her voice strained for some sort of firmness, but she sounded weak and helpless. She looked anywhere but at him, as though she searched for something, though he could not begin to imagine what. Her face was pale, her eyes frazzled. She appeared lost. "I didn't want to leave her," she said suddenly, as though she had to explain herself. "I tried to get her on the boat, but she pushed it away. She told me to run and not look back. She"—she took a deep breath and closed her eyes—"she sacrificed herself for me."

She fell down to sit on her haunches as she buried her face in her hands again. She struggled to find some sense of composure, so he said nothing and waited for her to sort her emotions.

"I'm always running away while everyone else fights for me," she whispered. He didn't think that was meant for him to hear. "She's my sister. She's all I had left. And I left her behind."

Her guilt was thick in her tone, a trace of grief that could not be feigned. He felt a weight press against his chest and glanced at the house, then back down at her.

"Return to your handmaiden," he said as he turned toward his home.

He didn't wait for her to respond as he went inside and barred the door shut. He didn't care if she listened to his command or not. She could stay and listen to the screams if that was what she desired.

"So, is she going back to Arlong?" Nezumi asked.

Corazon said nothing as he grabbed the axe he left beside the firewood.

"What are you doing?" Nezumi asked as he snatched the cage's key.

"Something you are not going to enjoy," he answered as he slowly walked toward his captive.

Nezumi blanched. "She— She has fooled you," he spluttered. "She has won you to her side. She will betray you just as she did all those before you."

Corazon chuckled. "You believe me to be fooled, but you are the only fool in this room," he said. "I can assure you that I still have all my faculties, that I have not been seduced by a witch. I have merely been reminded of a time I wish had never been. I know the pain of leaving a sister behind. She is fortunate hers still lives, though I suppose death would free her from whatever ills she suffers now. And I also know the guilt of seeing someone you cherish sacrifice their life for yours." He pointed toward the front door with his axe. "A demon in the guise of an angel, she may be; but demons were once angels that fell from the grace of Heaven and the pain of such a fall is not hidden from their own kind."

He opened the cage and Nezumi shrieked as he cowered in the corner. "Trafalgar! Do not do this! You swore that I would leave here alive and unharmed!"

He ignored the man's screams as he snatched him by the chains and dragged him out kicking. "You will leave here alive, but I made no such promise about going unharmed. I said mostly unharmed. Though I suppose that was a lie. You will be quite harmed after this."

Nezumi screamed and fought. He was weak from poor nourishment, his limbs cramped from spending his days in a small cage. It was an annoyance to have him struggle when he had no hope of escape, so Corazon ended the futility with a swift strike to the back of Nezumi's head with the butt of his axe. His captive pitched forward onto his knees and swayed. There was no more fighting the inevitable once Corazon grabbed him by the collar and hauled him toward the dinner table.

He disliked tarnishing the place he ate, but it would make do for the operating table he needed.

"Trafalgar…" Nezumi whined weakly. "Please… I will give you whatever you desire."

He ignored the simpering fool as he tossed him onto the table and swept away the cups and plates that sat in the way. He forced the man to lie back and arranged him to stretch over the length of it.

"Money… Women," he continued to plea as Corazon gathered cloth and strips of leather from a chest beside the bed. "Anything. Name your price and you will have it."

"You are in no position to grant my deepest wishes," Corazon answered as he returned to the table and began to drape the leather over Nezumi's chest. "Even if you were not here, instead free within Francia, you would not be able to bring the dead back to life, nor would you be able to topple the dragon that stole that life away," he muttered. "You have only one use to me and I cannot set you free for that."

Nezumi sobbed as he tied the leather to restrain his chest. His pleas became incoherent while the stench of fresh urine wafted from his tattered trousers. He was terrified, and the blow to the head left him too confused to fight his fear.

Corazon tore the linen of his sleeves away before he undid the shackles at his wrists. He would need to find a new means to bind the man after this, but he would worry about that later.

"What are you going to do to me?" Nezumi asked once Corazon had secured his arms to the table with leather straps and had begun to tie strips of cloth around his upper arms to slow the circulation of blood in them.

Corazon did not answer until he was certain that Nezumi's body was prepared. He picked up his axe and ran his finger over the blade. It was dulled from chopping wood, but it would suffice.

"I advise you to remain very still," he finally said as he grinned and lifted the axe above his head. "Amputation is my specialty. If you do not fight it, it will be over soon."

He brought the blade down in a smooth arc. Blood splattered across his face. Nezumi screamed and wailed and thrashed on the table.

Corazon's grin only grew wider as he watched the hand fall to the floor.

Nezumi lost consciousness before he finished his operation. Corazon cauterized and bandaged the wounds and left him to lay in his own refuse after he gathered his gifts into a sack. His house would reek of the man's bowels for days, but the results were worth that misery.

Nami was not to be found outside his home, so he set off toward Pagaya's. If she was not there, he would search for her at the king's hall, but he did not think she had left the peninsula just yet. She would wait for him.

He found her beneath the rowan she had sat beneath earlier in the afternoon. She stared over the water as she had before, but this time he knew she was seeing all that was in front of her. Her fingers played over her gold bracelet. Her expression was hollow, but he could see the evidence that she had been crying in the blotches of red against an otherwise pale face. If anyone else were to look upon her, they might believe her to be calm, but it was a veneer to hide the pain swirling beneath the surface. Pain he was not meant to see.

"Lady Nami," he called to her.

She slowly took her gaze from the sea and stared at him with empty eyes that seemed to be seeing him for the first time. She likely was. Blood still stained his tunic and vest, and he had not bothered to wipe it from his face and hands. The bag he held dripped with more blood as he held it toward her.

"A gift," he said before tossing it to the ground in front of her.

She looked down at the bag without a flicker of emotion and then turned to slip from the branch she sat on to kneel on the ground. A tremor remained in her hand as she reached for the bag and drew it toward her. When she opened it, she gasped and her eyes widened in the first show of life from her since he arrived.

"It will be impossible for him to lay a hand on your sister when he has none," he said as he carefully approached her. She placed a shaking hand over her lips and he watched as tears brimmed her eyes. "Nor will he be able to conjure much… morale as a eunuch."

Nami took in a harsh, shaky breath.

"Your sister will be safe," he promised quietly.

Her eyes snapped up to him and seemed to search his face. He did not worry over what she might see, what she might recognize. The druid said she would see him for who he was and he would not hide that from her any longer. He was mistaken to believe she needed a kind face, a caring man to sway her from this place.

She needed a monster to do what she could not.

"I will not sacrifice myself for you. You have enough people willing to do that, you do not need another. But I promise not to treat you unkindly. My name is Trafalgar Law," he said as he held out a hand. "You may call me that. And you may call on me…." He paused when he saw her wariness return, her gaze fixed on the hand he offered. "You may call on me as your brother, and I will aid you in this trial you face."

Her eyes widened at the oath he made. It was an oath made between men, between equals. It was an oath made between two cunning trickster gods; one of whom had led him there and watched over her from the trees at that very moment. He could hear the falcon's wings flutter above them, the bird chattered some sort of input.

Law waited until she made the decision on her own. The calm façade had returned when she slipped her cold hand into his. Her emotions locked away as he helped her stand.

"I thank you for the gifts," she said in hushed formality, bowing her head as she squeezed his hand.

She released him and bent down to gather the blood-soaked bag. He watched curiously as she turned toward the rocky beach and balanced on a slick boulder. She took a deep breath, pulled her arm back, and threw the gift out over the bay to land in the water with an echoing splash. He held back his chuckle when he saw her shoulders heave with a sigh. She appeared more relaxed as she walked back toward him, though he doubted that was enough to take the full weight off her shoulders.

She at least appeared more confident, a sense of determination in her that had not been there before. She had remembered whatever resolve had brought her here in the first place.

Nami brushed by him, heading up the hill toward Pagaya's. She paused to glance at him over her shoulder. "Please, don't be a stranger," she said as a smile tugged at the corner of her lips and a cunning glint lit her eyes. "I would love to have your company in the hall… Corazon."

He snorted at the use of the borrowed name and silently appreciated her forethought on that. She realized he had used a false name for a reason and would not betray his identity if he did not desire anyone else to know it. He would remain Corazon to the king and his men, but he would be himself with her.

He folded his arm over his stomach and gave her a mocking bow. "As you wish, Lady Nami," he said with unveiled sarcasm. When he looked up at her again, her smile had grown and she turned away with a short laugh.

Law watched her walk away as a sense of victory welled within him. He had her trust, though he knew it would not be easy to maintain. She was as prickly about giving it as he was, and he had no doubt he would have to do things that would make her question his sincerity. If his purpose was to do what she could not, be the darkness that could not taint her heart, then he would have to walk that fine line. She would work in the light to distract Enel's attention. He would work in the shadows to subvert Enel's ambition.

A twig snapped within the trees and drew Law's attention from the woman. This time when he searched for the source of the noise, he spotted a flash of lavender and a thick pelt of fur move through the trees, following Nami at a distance.

His first task as her new ally and brother had shown itself. They would need her wolf if they had any hope of toppling a god. He was not yet certain how they would bring the wolf here in a timely manner, with the greatest chance of success, but he had the resources available to devise a plan.

First, he had to hunt a bear.

---

A/N: Long chapter and finally, Law is himself, at least to Nami. It's kind of fun writing them with this sort of friendship, one that's adversarial in some ways. And, like Kid, he gets to go to more extremes with parts of his personality - namely the gleeful dismemberment he is so fond of.

Hope you all enjoyed the Loki cameo. He enjoyed making himself the center of attention. And yes, his story is filled with a million hints to who specifically Nami is related to.

Loki's red hair is something that is debated since there really is no concrete description of him. He is considered a hearth or fire god in some theories, or at least that is part of his early existence. There are carvings found of him on stone hearths that suggest this. There is also a theory that the names of his parents suggest a connection to a forest fire - namely that his mother, Laufey, was a tree or leaf struck by a bolt of lightning, and from that Loki was born. This story happens to be a favorite of mine because I see fire as a very poetic reflection of Loki's chaotic nature. Fire, when harnessed and controlled, can provide us warmth and light, cook our food, ward off beasts, etc. But if that fire is left to burn on its own, it can burn our homes to the ground and kill any that stand in its path. Additionally, the story of Ragnarok has Loki allying with the fire giants of Muspelheim, led by Surt, not necessarily the giants of Jotunheim that are a source of antagonists and friends in the lore. Some believe Ragnarok and the connection to fire is more a product of the stories warped by Christian influence, particularly where Loki was turned into a devil of sorts, but I still appreciate the idea of him being this fiery giant/ god. And the red hair is of obvious importance in connecting him to Nami... as well as her father's family.

Nami really does share a lot of similarities to Loki, as well. She is like this amalgamation of Loki, Freyja, and even Ran.

Loki's issues with Kid's binding are related to Fenrir's - his son's - binding, as well as his own. He is bound after he hurls insults at the gods in a drunken fit and casually reminds them that Baldur is dead because of him (there are some stories, by the way, that say Loki had nothing to do with it, that Hodr was jealous of Baldur and desired Baldur's wife, Nanna, for himself). Since he was foreseen to be the cause of Ragnarok, the gods sewed his mouth shut, turned his two sons Narfi and Nari, by way of Sigyn, into wolves and had them fight until they tore each other apart, they then bound him with their entrails and the giantess Skadi hung a snake above Loki's head to burn him. Sigyn held a bowl over him to protect him from the venom, but when the bowl grew full, she had to take it away to pour it out, leaving Loki to suffer the venom until she returned, and create all manner of earthquakes in his agony. Needless to say, binding wolves is not something he is a fan of. Puts his role in Ragnarok into greater perspective.

And yes, Odin is honestly an awful god much of the time. His ambitions and drive for power (particularly in the form of knowledge) are what matter most to him. He is not always cruel, but when he desires something, he will not let anything stand in his way. He and Loki are blood brothers (i.e. sworn brothers) and when Odin needs trickery but his oaths bind him, Loki is the one who helps him, and vice versa. When Loki got the gods their gifts, he had promised his head to the dwarves that lost the contest, but Odin helped him from the oath he had sworn by agreeing that Loki had promised them his head and they may only have it if they leave his neck intact. Kind of hard to cut off a head without cutting the neck, so the dwarves were outwitted by both gods and went off vowing to get revenge someday. Really, neither god is trustworthy.

Lastly, Nami's barbed spear has a striking resemblance to Arlong's canon nose. I found an image of a barbed spear that looks freakishly similar, so it had to be that one.

That's it for my rambling note. My mood is beginning to improve, so hopefully you won't have to wait another month for an update. Reviews definitely help motivate me, though.