Warning: Mentions of gore, violence, rape.
Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda.
The Wait
He preferred when his dreams brought him to Yggdrasil's well. There was a chance that he might hear her when he lounged in the nest of knotted roots. It was not often that he would hear her hum within the boughs, but when he did, he knew she did it for his sake. Her voice soothed his impatience, eased his loneliness even though it made his heart ache when he woke to find her gone.
He knew her mood those nights. If she hummed, then she was pleased and happy. He hoped it meant that her plans were progressing, that soon he would have the freedom to take her back. The rare nights when he heard her cry were the worst nights, but he knew the tears would come eventually. She had to be scared in Enel's hall, fighting for herself in the face of a madman's ambitions. He doubted she had a chance to grieve for those lost in the battle. She was the type of person who would hold back her sadness until the weight became unbearable, but she would not break down until she was alone. He wanted to claw his way to her, break his chains and climb the boughs, find her and hold her tight until her tears left her.
The need to comfort her had been foreign to him, or at least strange to have such a visceral desire to make someone he only just met feel safer, calmer, happier. It was an urge only she had ever conjured in him so quickly, and it was not a feeling he could easily ignore. The thought that he could not take her pain away tore at his heart and he woke with the raw ache still in his chest. Ale did not take it away, demolishing a tree with an axe did not ease it. He knew it would not leave him until he had her back in his arms, where he could protect her from ever feeling sad again.
Weeks had passed since he sent Enel his declaration of war and he had yet to receive anything from the king or Nami. It was a blessing in disguise, he supposed, though he was eager to hear word from Nami. Even Ove had not yet been able to send a message to them, a fact that worried him, but he had faith in the man who volunteered to be a spy. He would not get himself killed so easily. In the meantime, he could only continue to rebuild and gather his allies.
Wire had gone to Hedeby and returned within two days to announce that Bonney would arrive in a month's time. He thought the length of time was unnecessary, especially when she was aware that he would call on her as an ally. She should have had her karls and ships prepared. He did not want to wait another month to attack Enel. He was furious enough that he had to wait at all. He wanted everyone in place the second his chains were loose.
He would have rushed straight to Hedeby to give Bonney his opinion on her timing, but Wire's uncomfortable expression gave him pause.
"She wishes to visit Francia first," he explained. "There is someone she needs to speak with about this war."
Kid snarled in contempt, but his gut said her reasons were important. He was not pleased with the news, not pleased that she may have contact with someone within Francia who may be interested in this war. He felt that the interest lay less with the politics of the war, and more with the reason for it. She had insights into this curse, into Nami's existence, that he did not, and her position in Denmark gave her a connection to the Frankish kingdom, especially the Normans. She hated the Frankish king, but she was content to trade with their Norman cousins.
Nami supposedly had kin in Normandy. Did Bonney know who they might be? Did she withhold just how much she knew about Nami?
Kid forced himself to ignore the implications of Normandy's involvement in his war. He would deal with that should it bear importance.
He sent Wire off to Álasund after a couple days rest. He needed Jarl Iceburg's support. If not his men, Kid had use of his ships. He expected Wire to return within a few days, a week at most, but nearly two weeks had passed without word from his men or the other jarl, and Kid had grown restless.
His dreams were the only place he could find peace, but even there he found it hard to come by as of late.
Flies had taken to the field.
Another reason he preferred to sit beneath Yggdrasil. The flies did not bother him there. But they had found their way to the field, to nag him while his temper whittled away at Freyr's queries.
What would you sacrifice?
The question would come to him on a breeze that rustled the grass and flowers. He would answer as he always did, that he would give anything to have her back. There would be a sigh, and then the annoying bite of a fly would give its opinion. He didn't understand how his answer was wrong. The gods could ask for anything and he would give it, so long as he had her in return. What more could they want? What more could he give? Did they want his life? Because they could have it. He had already vowed to sacrifice himself for her freedom, he was not afraid to die.
He only needed to have her.
Only once.
The fly bit harder at the mere thought of that need. It buzzed in his ears loud enough to deafen the wind and the god's renewed sigh. He could feel their disappointment, their annoyance. His answer did not satisfy them.
Would it satisfy her?
The thought had come unbidden one night. He knew it was his own. The flies seemed to recede, the sun glowed brighter as he mulled that question.
But then the clink of the chains broke his thoughts and he remembered the vision of Nami, helpless in the shadow of the giant that loomed over her while he could do nothing to save her. His temper erupted with a shout. He thrashed in his chains, struggled to shatter the stone. The flies swarmed, shrouded the sun, and he woke in a furious rage.
The last remaining birch behind his hall did not survive.
His heart raced with his anger and impatience. He needed to be calm. He needed to wait. He needed to have faith in Nami, to trust the woman he had sworn himself to. He needed to believe in the people he surrounded himself with. Bonney was an earl with wisdom centuries old, an elder with the face of a young woman and the carefree nature of a child. If she decided to go to Francia before warring with Enel, then she had her reasons and he could not stop her. Wire was a competent sailor, a capable soldier. If he was delayed, then it was for an important reason that Kid could not control, he could only wait and have faith in his brother.
He was not well practiced at controlling his temper, but it was the only thing that he could control for the time being.
Twenty-two nights after he declared war with Enel, he dreamed of the field and was forced to witness a sight that tested his temper beyond anything he felt in the past.
The dream began pleasant enough. The sun warmed his flesh, soothed his ire. He breathed the sweet scent of the air and let himself laze on the stone. He swore he was calm enough to nap there, and when he napped within his dream, he was often taken to Yggdrasil to be gifted with her voice. But the gods did not allow him such a respite that night.
The grass and flowers hissed with movement that he struggled to ignore. Something soft and cool touched his hand. He squeezed his eyes shut and ignored whatever moved along his arm. It crossed his chest, over his shoulder, burrowed behind his neck.
His eyes shot open at the pressure on his throat.
The head of a snake appeared before him, its jaws wide, fangs dripping with venom. It hissed and coiled around his neck, strangled him.
'What do they see in you?' the snake hissed to him. 'Why do they fawn over a reckless brute like you? A wolf with an iron heart. A man who claims to love a woman, yet leaves her alone to cry, to wallow in grief and fear, helpless to change her fate. A man without the courage to shatter this reality, to force change. He is too afraid of the chaos that may come. He is too afraid of what he does not know, does not see.' Venom dripped in his eye. He ground his teeth as pain burned a path down his spine, growled to restrain the urge to cry out. 'Perhaps it is best that way. Perhaps we should just let you die. She is not alone. Even now. She has someone who understands her. She is cared for. Her heart would be safest in his hands.'
His temper flared when another drop of venom blinded him to the field. For a moment he saw only black, heard only the incessant buzz of the flies.
The scent of honey and orange and the sea filled his nose. He opened his eyes, hoping to find Yggdrasil, but he remained in the field. The snake had vanished.
But his anger only grew.
A monk shrouded in shadow and smoke. The rot of death, the sharp scent of blood. A thousand black flies with a thousand black eyes.
He stood before the stone, his robes billowing in the wind. His face was obscured, but Kid could sense his smug satisfaction as he cradled a bundle of soft orange fur. A hand painted black with blood caressed the creature until it purred.
A cat.
Nami.
He roared in his anger and the world shook.
'Enough of these foul scented lies,' a voice boomed. A golden boar crashed out of the trees, barreled into the monk that burst into a swarm of flies. The cat vanished with the illusion. The snake returned to his neck with a snickering hiss before it was ripped away.
The cloaked, radiant god emerged from where he hid to interrupt the snake's trick. He chucked the snake into the field, and Kid listened as it slithered through the grass, still snickering to itself.
'I was merely helping,' the snake said, its voice clearer, deeper. 'After all, she requested my aid. And not all of what I said were lies.'
Kid craned his neck to see where the snake hid. The cloaked figure stood beside him, his back to the rock. Protecting him. His presence soothed Kid's ire, but he still wished to see who had toyed with his temper.
A shadow flit through the trees. The boar gave chase. Leaves rustled, the boar crashed into something with an annoyed grunt, and laughter rang out over the field.
'Gullinbursti, play nice,' the snake called out from the tree tops.
'I allowed your presence in the hope you would help push him in the right direction. You may as well have shoved him off a cliff with this stunt,' the figure beside him bellowed. 'He needs to learn patience. Calm. His temper is too unpredictable.'
Kid would agree, but that temper was whittling away again as they spoke of him as though he were not there.
'His temper is too unpredictable,' the snake repeated, his tone mocking and snide. 'I agree he needs patience, but she does not seem to mind his temper. I see no point in changing that. May as well take advantage of it if there is any chance of getting some sense and reason through that thick skull of his.'
'He isn't going to have an epiphany while in the midst of red-eyed rage,' the god argued. 'He was so close.'
'And then he got angry.'
'Which is why I cannot have you angering him.'
'Which is why I angered him, anyway. He's getting angry right now. It is futile to control it.'
"I could control it if you pricks stopped speaking in riddles and toying with my fucking head," Kid shouted over their bickering. "Give me a straight fucking answer and tell me what the fuck you want."
'But that's not even a little amusing,' said the snake.
'You won't learn anything yourself if we give you the answers,' said the god. 'And I thought you took issue with his chains,' he added, turning his attention back to the snake.
'I did, and I continue to take issue with it.'
'Then why would you add snake venom to his plight?'
'Symbolism?' the snake answered unconvincingly. The god scoffed, but the snake continued. 'And I wanted him to get mad. Did you feel how the earth shook with his rage? He may very well shatter those chains on his own with that madness.'
The god sighed in response.
'And did you not say that you need his fury? That she needs it?' the snake asked.
'I did, but not here, not when he needs to find a purpose and direction for that rage.'
Their argument ended at an impasse. Kid let his head fall back against the stone with a disgruntled sigh. He was tired. He was tired of their questions, their tricks. He just wanted to live his life free to do as he pleased. He wanted Nami to have that same freedom. He wanted to free her from her fears, from the deaths that haunted her. He wanted them to be free from the gods' meddling, free from people who thought to restrict them, claim them, use them.
He just wanted to live.
The god shifted beside him. The silence around him turned meaningful.
'Perhaps your methods are not wrong,' he muttered. The snake hummed in response while the god reached out a hand. Darkness swallowed up the field, but he felt only peace as Freyr's voice echoed around him. 'Let him mull on that thought.'
He came to within the nest of knotted roots. He could smell Nami in the mist and rain that trickled through the gaps in the roots. She whispered his name upon the wind, and that was all he needed to hear to set him at ease. She missed him. She longed for him. She wanted to live as he did.
Live.
He woke confused yet calmer than he had woken previous nights. His chest ached with longing, but for once, he did not wish to rid himself of it. He let it simmer as he readied for the day, acknowledged the weight as he washed his face and hands, thought on the hollow pit as he dressed.
Did she feel the same when she woke in the morning? Did her chest ache as though a rope tugged on her heart, fought to pull them closer while so much held them apart?
"Kid?"
He shook away his thoughts and found himself in his hall, staring down at an untouched breakfast. Killer sat beside him, his wounds improved enough to see him move around for longer intervals. He could feed himself again. Grooming remained an effort, but Killer could at least comb his hair on his own without irritating the wounds that continued to mend. Kid only had to help him shave and clip his beard away from the scars on his left cheek.
"Where has your mind been this morning?" Killer asked. "Have your dreams given you more to think about?"
Kid grunted. They had given him too much to think about. "I think the gods want me to live," he said. "I don't understand what else they want of me, though. I don't understand what they want me to sacrifice to get her back."
Killer hummed but gave no thoughts of his own on the matter, no wisdom that might clear the confusion in Kid's mind.
"Perhaps you should focus on the present," Killer said. "There is still much for you to occupy yourself in the village while we wait. Focus on the world around you. The answer will come to you in time."
In time? He did not have much time. He had to act soon.
"Heat, does Gunda still refuse to leave the women's quarters?" he asked. A dozen women had been widowed in the battle, twice as many children left as orphans. He repaired two of the larger hovels to house them in while he waited for word from their kin in other territories. Gunda felt safest with women, so he allowed her to move in with the others while she continued to heal. He had hoped the company would remedy her sadness, but her malaise continued.
Heat nodded where he sat at Stig's bedside, binding the archer's chest. Stig was nearly healed, but he had broken ribs in a fall and his chest ached when he used his bow. The binding helped. In another two weeks, he should be well enough to shoot again.
"The women have informed me that she does eat," Heat said. "That is an improvement."
It was not enough. "I need her to send a message to Hulda. She is the only one here who will not be killed on sight. She is the only one that woman may listen to."
"She will go when she is ready," Heat insisted.
"I need her to go immediately," Kid growled. "I'm tired of being patient with her. If she wants to lay down her sword and forsake her duties, then she can run to my sister's lands and find asylum there. I'll spare her any injury for being a coward."
"Kid," Killer rebuked. "It was a difficult battle."
"I don't care," he snarled. "I said she can run." Nami would kill him if he didn't pardon Gunda's desertion. "I just need her to send my witch of a sister to take her place. She can do what she wants after."
"I will go," a soft voice called from the door. Gunda stood alone, her head lowered to hide her scarred face behind a veil of shorn brown hair. She wrung her hands in her dress and appeared to grow smaller as he glared.
Killer smacked the back of Kid's head hard enough to make his ears ring, but Kid would not apologize for what he said. He felt no remorse for his words. He respected Gunda as a warrior, was proud that she had fought as hard as she had for Nami, but that did not change his opinion of her behavior since. He understood she needed to mourn, he understood that her melancholy came from a feeling of uselessness and failure, but he could not understand why she allowed it to persist. The war was not over yet, they could still bring Nami back, and then she would see that her lady harbored no resentment toward anyone that fought to protect her.
She would resent them more if they died despite all her efforts to save them.
"Geir and Axel will go with you," Kid grunted as he dug into his cold porridge. "Be ready tomorrow at dawn. You only need to tell her that I wish to speak with her. I'll discuss the details of the war if she comes. Understood?"
Gunda nodded. She knew how ruthless that family was. Even the lady she once protected was as ambitious as her father had been. The last he saw her, she played her part as demure lady, but rumors had carried to him from across Noreg that she and her cousins were joining hands with other karls. They were building an army in the south. Proposing an alliance was a risk on his part, but it was one he was willing to take.
If Wire returned before his sister arrived, he may be able to piece together a show of might to deter any plots to take advantage of his weakness. But that was only if Wire returned with ships and extra men. It might even be best to wait a few extra days so that Bonney would have a chance to join him. Gunda's melancholy annoyed him, but perhaps it would help prevent an ambush when he least needed one.
"Take your time," he added. "You haven't seen my sister in years. Spend of a few days catching up with her."
Maybe those days would renew her spirit and give her the courage to return. Nami would want to see her alive and well when this was all over.
Gunda nodded but did not leave to prepare her belongings. She remained in the doorway, wringing her dress.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Magnus is giving the women trouble," she said quietly. "His mother is in no state to watch him. The others were hoping you would intercede before he gets out of control."
Kid sighed. The boy had always been a bully in the village, but his behavior was treated as mischief. He would tear up a child's doll and watch them cry, push another child into the mud and laugh, steal their sweets and presents. He was an obnoxious little shit and Kid had never liked him. He reminded him of the last jarl's sons, but his parents tried to rein him in, and when Nami came to the village, she began to instill a healthy fear of punishment that he had hoped would garner some improvement in his behavior.
After Enel's attack, the boy had turned into a monster.
Kid understood the reason for the change, pitied the boy and the anger he did not know how to manage. Magnus had watched Enel's soldiers slit his father's throat and rape the man as he lay dying in the mud and would have had to watch his mother's assault if his men had not found them when they did. He had tried to protect his mother, but he was only ten and no match for full grown men wielding swords and axes. He was fortunate that they only beat him bloody before his mother got in the way and drew the soldiers' attention to her. She had screamed for him to run while the soldiers fell on her, but the boy refused, tried to get back on his feet to attack the soldiers. His men reached them just as a warrior swung a sword at the boy that would have sliced his head clean off his shoulders.
He and his mother had been saved, but he remained angry.
He had not been a problem while his injuries healed, but the women had informed him that Magnus would scream and thrash whenever they tried to change his bandages, had struck one woman hard enough to give her a black eye. His mother was too injured to care for him, and her mind and heart had suffered a deep wound when she had to watch her husband die, her son beaten, all while knowing that she would be next. The women who tended to her said that she was improving every day, but she needed peace and rest, she could not chase down her enraged son.
They had all hoped he would be better once his mother was able to move and care for him, that as she improved, so would he. It seemed they did not have the luxury to wait.
Kid growled in frustration. He already had two children in his hall requiring his attention, and he was fortunate Ingvild and Sind hardly demanded more than a pat on the head when they were sad, a sharp word when they tried to defy him. They were fed and content, did their chores most of the time, and never demanded he go out of his way to give them affection. Nami was the one who gave affection. They could wait for it until she returned.
His gaze settled on the children that sat at the end of his table with their breakfast. Ingvild swayed in her chair and swung her legs as she sang to herself. She had begun to make up songs that left Kid and his men baffled until they noticed that she had Sind's full attention. He would mimic her words, and then she would stop in the middle of a line and he would take on a frustrated expression before finishing the line himself. Ingvild would smile and nod if he said the correct words, Sind would grin proudly, and they would move on to the next part. If Sind's response was wrong, she would glare while his face would twist in thought. She would hint at the next word until he got it right or give up and give him the answer before moving along.
She had invented a game to teach him their language, one that seemed more engaging for the boy than anything Kid or Killer had done.
He had not let them stray far from his hall unless they were in the company of he or his men. And he had specifically forbade them from being near Magnus until the boy calmed down. Ingvild was smart enough to run away, but Sind had been itching for a fight of his own since he watched Kid's battle. Sind was two years younger than Magnus, but he was already a head taller than the boy and the work he did in the forge and rebuilding the village was making him stronger. On an even battlefield, without tempers clouding the mind, Sind would beat Magnus in a fight, Kid had no doubt about that. But Magnus was angry, and Kid knew what that anger could do, the power that came in a mindless frenzy.
Magnus would kill anyone who stood in his way if he didn't learn to control himself.
It seemed the time had come to teach both boys a lesson.
"Sind," he called out as he pushed his breakfast away. "Come with me."
"Kid? What are you going to do?" Killer asked.
Kid didn't answer as he stood and led the boy out of the hall. Gunda turned to follow without a word of question, she kept her head low and continued to nervously wring her hands, but she didn't try to stop him. He could hear his men follow further behind as he turned down the lane that led to the women's quarters, one of them ran to catch up.
"Kid? Are you sure this is wise?" Killer asked through a rasping breath as he clutched his burned side. He had realized what Kid meant to do.
"You have a better idea?"
Killer had no answer. He glowered and shook his head.
The two hovels were off limits to grown men. He had guards stationed outside, but they were not to go inside unless the women needed their help. Kid was exempt from that rule, though he avoided the homes until that morning.
He left Sind and his men outside as he invited himself into the home without knocking. The women jumped in surprise, one grabbed an axe. They began to relax when they saw it was him but remained uneasy until Gunda stepped inside behind him.
"Where's the boy?" he growled as he searched through the women and children who had been in the middle of their own breakfasts.
"In the back," the woman with an axe said, pointing toward the curtains that separated the sleeping area from the main room. "With his mother."
Kid grunted his thanks and stormed into the other room. A woman still dressing screamed in surprise, but he ignored her as he set his sights on the boy carving crude pictures into the wood of his mother's bed. He froze when Kid approached him, turned terrified and angry eyes up to his jarl.
"Jarl Eustass?" the mother asked, her voice quiet and timid. "What are you doing here?" Her hand—short two fingers—slipped out from beneath her blankets to rest on her son's head. The gesture would normally calm a child, but the boy moved closer to her and turned his knife on the jarl, his lip curled in a sneer.
He just wanted to protect his mother. Kid could sympathize with that.
But he wouldn't tolerate a brat brandishing a knife at him.
He slapped the knife away and snatched the boy by his collar. "I'll return him after supper," he said to appease the startled woman.
"Let me go," Magnus shrieked as he thrashed in Kid's grip. "I'll kill you. Let me go."
Kid dragged him out of the house, stormed through the crowd that gathered outside. His men hid their worry behind deep scowls, the women that came out to join them asked what Kid intended to do.
"Is he going to put him in stocks?" one woman asked. She was answered by a solemn shake of a head.
"Flogging? That is too cruel for a boy. Surely Jarl Eustass knows that?"
"He's not flogging him," he heard Killer answer. "He's giving that anger an outlet."
"Sind," Kid bellowed when he noticed the boy lingered with the crowd. "Get your ass over here."
Sind scrambled to catch up, prompting the people to follow them to the square in front of his hall. Kid tossed Magnus into the dirt and waved for Sind to stop a few steps away. Magnus jumped to his feet, hunched and angry, and lunged. Kid shoved him right back in the dirt.
"You need to learn to pick your battles, brat," Kid growled. "And you need to learn who your enemies are." He turned to Sind as Magnus struggled back to his feet. "You still want to learn how to fight?" Sind nodded, but his response was hesitant. Judging by the wary looks he cast Magnus, he had figured out who he would be fighting. He stepped back when Magnus lunged again. Kid held the older child back with a foot. "We'll start with glima," he said as he pushed Magnus onto his ass. "You got any more weapons on you?"
Magnus sneered in response.
"Take your fucking tunic off," Kid ordered. "Sind, you too."
His ward did as told while the other boy refused to move. At least he had stopped his futile attacks, but Kid didn't have the patience for insubordination. He snagged the boy by the collar, hauled him to his feet, and had to battle to get his top off. He found a pouch filled with rocks attached to the waist of Magnus's trousers, tore the pouch off, and tossed it away. After that find, he searched every inch of the boy for more weapons. He had a stick sharpened to a deadly point jammed into the wool wrapping on his leg, a piece of sharpened flint in his shoe, and a second bag of rocks stashed in a pocket.
He smacked the boy upside the head once all the weapons were found. "Sind, take your socks and shoes off, too," he said while he threw Magnus's shoes with the rest of his junk. "You're going to behave, right?" Kid asked Magnus, a finger pointed in warning. The boy growled. Kid smacked him again. "You've seen glima matches. You know the fucking rules. Don't you dare start beating the shit out of my ward or I will put you in the stocks. Understood?"
He watched the boy struggle against his anger, but one glance at the old stockades had him nodding in agreement.
"Good." Kid gave him a firm pat on the head as he stood. "From today on, you'll train with Sind in the morning and then help with his chores in the afternoon. You'll have washing day off to help your mother and the other women with their laundry. I'll keep you so busy, you'll be too exhausted to be angry. But if I hear of any more bruises or cuts on any of the women and children again, I'll treat you like any other criminal who thinks it's okay to take their anger out on my people. Got it?"
Magnus nodded.
Kid waved Sind over once he knew it was safe. "Heat, draw a circle," he ordered.
The other people lingered in the square, much more at ease now that they knew what he was doing with Magnus. Some of his men dragged benches into place around the circle for the women to sit if they wished to watch, another grabbed ale even though it was too early to drink. The boys would be their entertainment for the day, something they were all sorely in need of with the tension looming over the village. It would certainly distract Kid from his own worries.
Magnus had the advantage of knowing the sport, but he didn't know the techniques or grips that warriors used. Sind knew next to nothing. He had watched one impromptu wrestling match in Álasund between two of Franky's men, and Kid hadn't bothered to explain the rules or purpose. Now he had to teach two boys, one of which was still learning to grasp their language. Kid didn't want to bother with needless translation. It would be easier to explain by showing the boys what to do, and for that he needed a partner. He would prefer to use Killer, but that wasn't an option that day.
"Halle, get over here," he called. "I need someone to help me demonstrate."
Halle pointed at himself and grimaced. "No offense, Jarl, but I would rather chop my dick off than wrestle you."
"I'm not going to hurt you!"
"You say that every time, but there's a reason Killer's the only one willing to wrestle or spar with you. Everyone else walks away with their head spinning and bruised from head to toe. Even Ove was bed-ridden once."
"Well, Killer's in no state to help me. You're the heartiest one here, so quit being a coward and get your ass over here or I really will get your head spinning," Kid barked back. Halle continued to balk, wearing on Kid's temper. "I'm only teaching these brats how to wrestle, it's not a real match!"
Halle sighed as he finally relented. He shed his tunic and weapons and stepped into the circle with his head held high, feigning a show of confidence. "I expect you to find me a beautiful woman to tend my wounds after this," he stated.
Kid rolled his eyes. "I'm sure there will be no shortage of volunteers." He turned to Sind as he stripped from his belt and tunic and addressed the boy in English. "I'm teaching this sport to Magnus because it's about honor and respect. It's not about who's angry. It's not about hurting your opponent. You gotta be patient—"
"It's a miracle you're any good at it," Halle quipped.
"Shut it," Kid growled back. "You win by getting your opponent on the ground and escaping. There's no punching, kicking, shoving. You get the best of them, pin them quickly, and then pull away. You don't win until you've escaped. If your opponent starts getting back up before you've completed your escape, then you got to try again. Understood?"
Sind nodded.
"You got height and strength over him but use your fucking head and keep your wits about you." He pointed down at Magnus. "He's calm right now, but he's got a lot of anger in him and that anger can make him unpredictable. It can also make him stupid, especially since he doesn't know how to control it. Take advantage of that and you should be fine."
"Does your anger make you stupid, Jarl?" Halle teased, snickering when Kid turned a hard glare on him.
"I'll make you stupid if you don't watch that smartass mouth of yours," he warned.
Halle grinned, but wisely took a step back. Kid brushed him off as he returned to his lesson, pointedly looking at Magnus.
"First thing I need to teach you is manners."
Horns bellowed from the fjord close to mid-day. Kid had just shooed the boys into the hall to rest and eat before he planned to put them to work rebuilding another home. They were tired and sore, but the lesson appeared to work as he hoped. Magnus was calmer, too tired to get angry, and the lesson was practical. If he knew how to defend himself, even in play, then he wouldn't feel like the world was so out of his control. The routine would give him something else to focus on, too. Rather than sit and watch his mother mend and stew in grief over his loss, he could learn how to fight so that she was never in such a state again. If sparring and busy-work kept Kid's temper under control, then it would do the same for the boy.
Halle limped in after them, his torso mottled with fresh bruises. A handful of women trailed behind, cooing and fawning over the man just as he had hoped. Kid had gone easy on him, but Halle pricked his temper with his snark and wit, which led Kid to throw him to the ground with more force than necessary.
The village had felt peaceful and almost pleasant until the horns reached them. No one was worried about an attack, their enemies would not announce their arrival, but they were all anxious to see who had come.
Horns meant news. Hopefully good news.
Kid pulled his tunic on and made his way to the docks. Killer joined him, silently anticipating the arrival of a friend or ally.
The first ship to appear on the horizon was Wire's with its wolf flag fluttering atop the mast. Relief overcame him at the sight of his friend, followed by joy when he spotted three more ships behind him. Kid laughed and clapped a hand onto Killer's shoulder.
"'Bout fucking time they got here," he said. It was only three ships, but three ships could carry over a hundred men, and that was better than none.
He grew even more excited when he spotted Franky's blue hair on one of the ships. Franky and his men would provide strong reinforcements in the war, as well as skilled labor to help his rebuilding effort.
A handful of his men rushed to the ends of the docks to tie two of the four ships. The other docks were still in the middle of repairs, so the last two ships were forced to anchor further out. Two men took faerings out to tie the other ships to those at the dock, ensuring that they did not drift too far out, and helped bring their crews to land.
Kid went to greet Wire as he jumped from his ship.
"I apologize for the delay," Wire said as Kid dragged him into a firm hug and slapped his back.
"Rough seas?" Kid asked.
"No worse than I can handle, but—"
Wire was interrupted as Franky charged toward them, catching Kid off guard as he swallowed him into a tight embrace.
"It's unfair for the gods to separate a man from his lover," Franky wailed. "I'm so glad to see you holding up well. Let's go kick the king's ass and get her back for you."
Kid was grateful to hear that the man was eager to help, but he sounded more upset about Nami's capture than Kid was. And his embrace was crushing his lungs.
"What took you so long?" Kid struggled to ask while he waited for Franky to release him. He tried to squirm from his hold, but Franky pinned his arms to his sides and kept an iron tight grip on him. Kid could only wait for the man to cease crying and drop him back to the ground.
"The timing couldn't have been worse," Franky sniffled. "Iceburg… that idiot…"
"There was an attempt on his life," Wire explained. "I arrived just after the culprits fled the territory."
"On Jarl Iceburg?" Kid asked, gaping in surprise. Iceburg had been elected with unanimous support from the people in his territory. No one had ever challenged his jarldom. He was highly respected, had a strong army to protect him, and brought more wealth to the region than any other person could even imagine. And if anyone was dumb enough to take on Iceburg, they would have to contend with Franky, the only other man who might stand a chance to claim the jarldom if he was ever inclined to challenge his brother. He had no interest in governing, and despite all his bickering with his brother, he was loyal to his very bones.
Only a complete imbecile would try to kill Iceburg.
Franky finally released him to wipe his eyes. "That bastard Lucci…" he began to explain but cut himself off with a shake of his head. "This isn't the time to talk about it."
Kid glowered. "We have plenty of time to talk. Come on. We'll get you and your men some food and ale. Tell me what happened while you eat."
"As soon as Lucci was healed well enough to move, he slipped into Iceburg's chambers at night and stabbed him four times in the gut," Franky growled between bites of pork sausage and generous gulps of ale. "No one heard a thing. He just slipped in and then back out. None of the guards thought anything was amiss. Why would they? Even if they saw Lucci go in, they wouldn't have thought it strange. All of Iceburg's men are loyal to him, why would they suspect him? It was absolute chaos for two days while they hunted down the culprit. Lucci and Kaku helped go through the village and farms, pounded on doors with everyone else, threatened to kill anyone who was hiding this murderer. Kalifa wouldn't leave Iceburg's bedside, praying to the Christian god, as well as ours, for his recovery. It made no sense. None of us suspected a damn thing," he shouted.
Franky slammed his fist onto the table while his men growled and grumbled their own anger. Franky's jaw twitched, his teeth clenched, and when he continued his voice was strained with grief and anger. "By the time Iceburg woke to tell us what he remembered, it was too late. Those bastards took off in the dead of night with one of his ships." He clenched a fork tight enough to snap the thick wood in half. "And while I was distracted, they dug out my hoard and stole a chest filled with parchments and texts from Constantinople. Our old jarl entrusted those with me before he died. And those assholes just took them. When I find them, I'll kill them."
"Who were his accomplices?" Kid asked.
"Kaku, Kalifa, and Blueno." Franky huffed. "I still can't believe Blueno was one of them. His ale was the best in the region."
"I'm surprised you're here and not hunting them down."
"We sent scouts where we could. Paulie had overheard Kaku and Kalifa whispering about Britain one night. He had assumed it was about our raids, but now we're thinking they went back."
"Kaku was asking about a woman when we talked with Urouge."
"That's what my men told me." Franky sighed. "My gut tells me they returned to Francia. They may go to Britain, but they'll want more men first. They'll scour their homelands for allies and then turn to Britain. We sent one knarr to York as traders. They'll ask around the town for any information and see that the Danes send word to us if they see anyone suspicious. They'll send word to Cavendish and Urouge about the possible threat to that woman they asked about, as well. I understand Earl Bonney's your ally. I mean to ask her for information from her Frankish connections. I sent a ship to Hedeby to ask for her aid, but she had already taken off for Francia."
"She should be here in a week. You can talk to her then."
Franky nodded. "How are you holding up here?"
Kid scowled and grunted as he took a sip of ale.
"That bad? You must be heartsick for her every night." Franky snickered.
"Shut up," Kid growled. It was true and obvious to everyone who lived in his hall, but he didn't need Franky announcing it.
Franky slapped him on the back and grinned. "Don't you worry. We'll get the lady back for you."
Kid grunted his thanks. "I'll spare what I can to help you find those pricks once this is over. I like Iceburg. I'll kill anyone who tries to kill him."
"I was hoping you would say that."
"How is he?"
"Still bed-ridden, but he gets up and moves around when no one's watching. I saw him sneak out of bed for a flagon of ale one night. Paulie's at his wit's end with the man. He pretends to sleep when Paulie needs to speak to him about village business, and then does as he pleases while Paulie does all the work. No different than normal, but he's taken advantage of his sewn-up gut." Franky laughed. "But he should be well enough to visit here once this war is over. He hopes there'll be a wedding to celebrate our victory."
Kid looked away, glowered at a post, and tried not to think about what he and Nami would do once he had her back. The thought of marriage, a wedding, it all made his gut twist. It made him anxious, desperate to see this over with as soon as possible. He didn't want to wait anymore.
He forced himself to think about anything but this war and Nami. He thought about her enough at night. He needed to focus on the world around him during the day.
"Are you sure Lucci meant to kill Iceburg?" he asked, brushing off Franky's remarks. "When he wants someone dead, they usually die."
Franky sighed. "You're right, but it doesn't matter. They used the attempted murder to create chaos in the village and territory, giving them cover to slip away with my treasure. They betrayed Iceburg's trust. They betrayed everyone. We won't forgive them."
"Neither will I," Kid grunted.
"So, Bonney arrives in a week, you said. Paulie should be arriving with another two to three ships full of reinforcements around then, too. He's scouring the northernmost reaches of our territories for all the warriors he can find. We'll need them if we're to take on the mad king," Franky said. "Have you sought out anyone else?"
"Gunda will leave tomorrow to speak with my sister," Kid told him. "Either she will help, or she'll attack me while I'm down. So, I'm very glad you arrived when you did."
Franky chuckled. "It'd be in her best interest to help you now. You two can hash out your differences after the king's been disposed. Even we've heard of his ambitions in the west. All of Noreg needs to worry about him before he can lay claim to any more territory."
He hadn't thought about Enel's ambitions beyond Drafn. He knew that Enel would eventually reach for his territory and land, it was too close to the king's to be ignored for long. But his attack had been personal, the land and taxes he gained were merely an added benefit in his victory. Enel's sole reason for attacking Drafn had been to take Nami. That shouldn't be cause to worry for anyone else.
Unless they all saw her capture as a move that would strengthen Enel's claim to rule over all of Noreg. He was a king without a queen and heir, if he intended to change that to further seal his rule, to use her heritage to prove his claim as a king and god, then it made sense for the other territories to worry.
The daughter of the Vanir uniting with a son of Thor—the very thought made him furious.
A sharp slap to his back broke him from that rage. He turned to find Franky's grin had waned and his gaze had turned serious. His grip tightened on Kid's shoulder. "Let's go build you a new ship while we wait. Something that will terrify not just a giant, but a god."
Southeastern Normandy
"That boar did not last long," Bonney groaned as she trotted along the road. Her stomach growled and she eyed the horses they borrowed in Rouen. They looked fat and healthy. Mouthwatering.
"Earl Bonney, please be patient," her adviser said from his horse beside her. "The Duke will be furious if we do not return his horses. All of them."
She hissed. She couldn't make an enemy of Normandy all because she ate one or two measly horses.
"The count will surely greet you with a feast," he continued. "All of Normandy knows that the Earl of Hedeby must not starve on their lands. Even if they do not believe in our gods, they know a blight will come if you are displeased with them."
A blight brought forth by her men. They would raid and pillage every farm to feed her. They would burn and slaughter their way through Francia and seize Paris if they needed to. And when they left, the Frankish and Norman would only have ashes.
Her stomach twisted around its emptiness. She slumped in her saddle, clutched her gut, and groaned. She should have demanded an extra boar for her journey. The cart of provisions the duke gave her lasted an hour despite his insistence that it should be enough to feed ten men over her two-day ride south; it should have been more than enough for her and the four men she picked to accompany her. The three flanks of boar meat she brought had been gone by nightfall. Her men had tried to hunt down a buck for breakfast but had been unsuccessful. She had to satisfy herself with three loaves of bread, a wheel of cheese, a bag of berries, and two apples that they bought from a farmer along the way.
She needed to eat.
"Look, Earl Bonney," her adviser shouted, pointing ahead to a set of towers peeking over the horizon. "There is the count's estate. Less than an hour's ride and we'll—"
She didn't give him a chance to finish. She kicked her horse hard, spurred it to gallop ahead of her men and toward the estate that sprawled over the hilly countryside. Farms dotted the land, their homes specks in the distance. A small village lay on the outskirts of the count's estate. She raced through while her men hastened their horses to keep up with her, nearly trampling any idiot that stood in their way.
The gates of the estate swung open and soldiers leaped out of the way as she barreled into the estate's courtyard. The count waited on the steps, dressed in a deep blue doublet and trousers, with his gold livery chain draped over his shoulders so that the amber stones glittered in the sun. White fur trimmed the collar around his neck, where the dark body of a snake contrasted the fur. It lifted its head, flicked its tongue out, and then burrowed back into the count's fur as though it couldn't be bothered to greet their guests. The count did not appear any more eager to greet them as he stood with his arms crossed over a broad chest, lips tugged into a furious frown as he watched her jump from her saddle. A stable boy took her horse's reins. The creature was exhausted from the sprint to the estate, its coat slick with lather. It would need a good drink and rest. It earned it for how quickly it carried her.
"Food," she demanded.
"Earl Bonney," her adviser hollered. "That is no way to address a count."
She ignored him as she stomped over to the count. Even if he did not stand on the steps above her, she would have to crane her neck to meet his simmering blue eyes, but his imposing height did not bother her. Nor did his rank.
She was an earl, after all.
"Food," she demanded again.
He sighed. "It is good that the duke sent word of your coming," he muttered as he turned to the side and nodded to the open doors of his home. "My cooks began roasting a whole pig as soon as your name left the messenger's lips."
Bonney grinned as she welcomed herself into his home. "This is why I like you Normans," she quipped, tossing her cloak to a waiting servant. "You still understand the importance of hospitality."
"We understand that it is easier to feed you than fight you," he responded, his tone flat. "So? What business has brought you here? I see no wares to trade, nor any mercenaries to hire."
"Supper first, then business," Bonney huffed. She found her way to the dining hall by the scent of the roast. Her stomach growled loud enough for the count trailing behind her to hear. He sighed and did not argue with her demands.
The count did not bother eating with her. He knew better than to try. He left her to eat at the long table with only her men while he saw to his own business. She was free to devour the whole roast pig before her, sparing a few morsels for her companions. She ate everything within her reach. Bread, the foulest smelling cheese, the most succulent fruits, rich tubers, sausages from the Rhinelands, fish from the west, and drowned it all with flagons of sharp wine. And then the cook brought her dessert. The tastiest puddings and tarts she had ever known existed.
She was sorely tempted to kidnap the count's kitchen staff for herself. She would eat like a queen every night.
It was too bad the boy fawned over her so much. While his cooking was what she would expect to find in the king's palace, or in the halls of the emperor, he loved women too much.
"Earl Bonney, I am truly honored to have you eat my food," he cooed. She sank back in her chair, loosened her belt, and belched. "The most beautiful lady to ever grace this hall."
"You meant the most beautiful lady to grace the hall this week," the count called out from the door as he returned. She burped again, and the count sent her a withering glare. "Though I am left to wonder how you find her to be so lovely, Sanji."
"She is a woman with a remarkable appetite and true appreciation for my art," the cook huffed in proper Frankish. His blonde hair hid one eye, but it did not diminish the glare he sent his master. "Unlike some shitty lords," he muttered.
The count pinched the bridge of his nose and waved the cook away. "We have business to attend to, and knowing Earl Bonney, she will be hungry again once we are through. You should plan for another four courses."
"Five," Bonney chirped, smiling wide at the cook. He clutched his chest and looked as though he would faint. "And more of those tarts."
"Of course, Earl Bonney. I will be your slave for eternity," he sang, dancing off to the kitchen to prepare her next meal.
The count threw himself into a large chair at the opposite end of the table. His family's heraldry hung on the wall behind him.
A blue drake on a crimson field.
"That man is the most talented cook I have ever met, but I wish I did not agree to take him from his warden," the count groaned. "He has drawn the ire of every man in the village with his behavior toward their wives and daughters, and the disrespect he shows the men. It is a chore keeping his head on his shoulders."
Bonney snorted. "When did you take him in? He was not here when I visited last summer."
"Just after the last harvest. He had been living in Paris with a well-known baker and cook, was earning himself a good reputation with his trade, but then he was disrespectful to a ranked soldier and dared to slap him. A price was on his head by the next day. His warden had not wanted to give him up, but for Sanji's safety, he had no choice. I agreed to hide him here until Paris was safe again."
"How noble and generous of you," Bonney teased. "I'm grateful for the change in your staff, though I don't know why you would bother to protect a lowly cook from the wrath of a soldier."
"His family is far from low-born. It is too my advantage to keep him alive."
"What royal family allows their child to live as a peasant cook?"
The count did not answer as he idly traced a finger over the snake still draped over his shoulders.
"I see you still keep your strange pets," she noted. "I never understood your fascination with those things."
A wry smile coupled with an impertinent hiss were all they gave in response.
"Is that one new?"
The count nodded. "Sanji found him in the food stores a couple of months ago. He had made a nest within a bag of oranges. He bit one of the women and Sanji nearly killed him, but he slithered out and found me." He chuckled. "He's refused to leave me since."
She cooed. "He likes you. Must have picked up the scent of all the snakes and lizards you keep hidden in this place."
"Possibly," he mused as he scratched the snake's neck. The creature looked positively delighted with the attention, not what she would expect from a wild snake.
She swore it grinned.
"Did you name him?" she asked. The snake opened his eyes and stared at her. A shiver ran down her spine at the glimmer in those black, beady eyes.
That was not a normal snake.
"Jormungand," the count said.
She cocked a brow. That was definitely not a typical viper.
"Enough about the snake, Bonney. What brings you here?"
She broke her gaze from the snake's and shook her head to dispel her suspicions. It did not matter to her, and she knew better than to be surprised by the snake's presence.
"I'm going to war with King Enel," she stated. There was no use beating around her reason for being there.
"King Enel?" the count hummed. "Which one is he again?"
"The one who cut off all trade with Christians when he seized the throne in Oslofjord."
"And this matters to me because?" he prompted. "I do not trade with anyone in the north, save for you. The duke might be annoyed with the loss, but there are still plenty in Noreg and Svealand willing to trade with us."
"This is not about trade agreements, broken or existing," Bonney explained. "He attacked Jarl Eustass and took the woman he was courting."
"And? I see no benefit in either you or I getting involved in a personal squabble. It is unfortunate that this woman has been caught in the middle of a feud, but it is not my responsibility to aid her."
Bonney growled at his dismissive tone. "This woman is from Svealand," she said. The count's brow rose but he did not appear any more interested than he had been. "The last surviving daughter of a certain clan that was slaughtered by your people eighteen years ago."
If she had not been staring at him, she may have missed the subtle tick in the count's jaw. His expression remained stoic, his eyes did not look away from hers once.
When she had heard that Nami had family in Normandy, she had a feeling she knew who that might be. It seemed that her suspicions were correct.
"It is not my business," he said quietly, his tone hard with resolve. "I know nothing of this clan you speak. And even if I did…" He trailed off, his gaze narrowed. "It is not my business."
She hadn't expected him to jump to his feet and insist upon rescuing Nami, but his cold, apathetic response was a disappointment.
"Are you sure you do not know of who I speak?" Bonney pushed. "She is named for the waves of the sea, but her hair is as brilliant as the amber around your neck." His jaw ticked again. "As bright and warm as a fire on an icy northern night." His eyes hardened when her gaze flicked to his hair, and his lip began to curl in a sneer. She shrugged away his ire. "But, if you do not know her, then you do not know her."
"What is your point, Bonney?" he bit out.
She had never seen his temper thin so rapidly. If she prodded further, she may find herself bit, and not by the snake wrapped around his neck, but by the drake that decorated his banner.
She sighed. "I do not expect you to spare any men, but I could use more arms. Cross-bows, if you have any spare ones lying around. We have plenty of iron, but King Enel's forces are not to be underestimated. We will take advantage of every weapon we have access to."
"I can provide additional weapons. I have a hundred cross-bows in my armory. I can provide a few dozen swords and battleaxes, if you desire those, as well. At a cost, of course."
She had not expected him to offer his battleaxes. His design was costly to craft, but strong enough to crush a skull to a bloody pulp with only a single blow. The head of the axe was so heavy, few men could even lift it, but in the hands of a truly mighty warrior, it could lay waste to a whole battlefield. Kid would want one of those axes.
"You can request payment from Jarl Eustass."
"And if he falls in battle?"
She smiled grimly. "I will see that you are compensated."
The count relaxed back in his chair. "And this woman? What importance is she to you that you would go to war for her?"
"I owe a debt for my very existence. She is how I will pay it," she explained. "Oh, and there is something else you should know that does concern you."
"What?"
"Trafalgar Law was recently in Denmark."
"Oh?"
"His men are still there, but he was exiled for murder. He specifically asked for a ship to take him to Oslofjord."
The count's hand drew into a tight fist but he remained silent.
"I did not inform Jarl Eustass or his men of this." She sighed. "I am hoping that it is only a coincidence. Kid doesn't need to be worried about Law when he has a war to win. I doubt Law knows anything about her—"
"What is there for him to know?" the count interrupted. "She has nothing to do with me, and the farther Law is from me, the better. He is nothing more than an annoying pest. A fly tormenting me as he buzzes about. I am glad to hear that he is tormenting other people these days."
"Of course," she said through a tight smile. He was being too insistent with his denials now.
"But, I do know there are… rumors. Baseless rumors that may have earned his attention. So, if this woman's suitor falls in battle, but you still claim victory, I can provide her safe passage out of the north, away from any threats to her life." Bonney raised her brow at the unexpected offer. "There are many churches between here and Constantinople I could deliver her to on my next trip. None would expect her to be living as a nun. She will be safe that way."
Bonney chuckled. A daughter of the gods living in service to another? No, no one would expect such a thing. It was not a bad plan should Kid meet an unsavory end in this war. Though, if any of his men survived, they may disagree with that. Or they may be glad to be rid of the woman who led their jarl to his death. If any held fealty to her, they could always join the church to continue their duties as her guardians. Without their jarl, they would have nothing holding them in Noreg.
"I will give that some thought," Bonney agreed. "And perhaps I will have some mercenaries for you to take with you at that time. They may not wish to join with the Varangians, but I know the church will always welcome new devotees, especially those capable of protecting them from heathen raiders."
"My protection will come with additional costs, as well," he added with a sly grin.
He chuckled at her withering glare. "Your father may have been a greedy and cruel man, but you are not. I will pay for the weapons, but you offered passage freely, without request. You will provide it freely."
"So be it," he said, his amusement gone at the mention of his father.
She slapped her hand on the table. "Then we have a deal. Now, where is that cook? I'm hungry again!"
A/N: I know the count's identity is probably obvious to anyone who knows my headcanons, but he, like Law, insists on remaining nameless until the very end.
And yes, there are multiple characters associated with dragons/ drakes. Law just enjoys annoying dragons in general.
As I said way back in the England arc, I do have a subplot involved with the CP 9 characters and Robin, but it isn't relevant to the main plot of this fic. If whenever I finish this monster fic I feel inclined to write a medieval fic for Robin, I'll use that subplot... But that will probably end up being a monster of a fic, too, soooooooo... meh, we'll see.
I decided that Sanji would exist in this fic a while back, but I hadn't intended to introduce him until the actual Normandy arc, but then 'the count' decided to be relevant for this arc (at least for a tease) and when Bonney is hungry, Sanji must be involved to sate her.
This fic is going to become very violent again soon. Kid's battle against McKinley and his troops will be nothing compared to what he does next. XD