Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters.
A Gilded Lie
Sharp nails combed through her hair as she sat within Yggdrasil's boughs. A deep thrumming song in a language too ancient for her to know echoed through the misty rain and distant rumbling thunder. She could smell the petrichor thick in the air. The charge flickered over her arms, raised the hair at the back of her neck. She could hear the wind picking up, whistling and howling in the branches far away, but just close enough to tell her this was the moment to make her choice.
Either hunker down and hide, wait for the storm to pass, or choose a course of least resistance, and hope to catch a fair wind after it was through.
This was the moment she had been waiting for, preparing for, and yet now that it had arrived, her gut twisted with fear, and doubt nagged her every thought. She could only guess and hope it was the right choice, and yet she wondered if it would all be for naught, if in the end nothing would change, and she would lose everyone she held dear.
"Ah, so near. The time is near, the storm sits right on the horizon," the trickster mused behind her, breaking into his song with a tittering laugh. His fingers deftly parted her hair and began to braid. "Such fortuitous timing. Yes, indeed. Everyone is planning and plotting, putting all their pawns where they need them. This is the fun part of the mischief. Admittedly, it is not my strength to come up with such grand schemes. That is my brother's form of trickery. Every plan has a contingency plan, and a contingency plan for the contingency, and a back-up plan to the back-up plan—however many plans and plots and schemes he deems necessary, and when it all goes to shit, that's where I come in to muck everything up for everyone else until he finds that thread to lead to what he desires from the whole mess. I, on the other hand, prefer a more fluid approach. Go with the flow. Spark a fire, see what happens, and hope Odin can fix it before I lose my head.
"But there is an art to navigating a storm of this immensity. A plan has its uses, but you cannot predict everything, no matter how hard you try. So, plan and plot and devise every route you can, but always be prepared to make something up when those plans are lost to the sheer chaos." Loki cackled. "Ah, yes, we are far off the beaten path. Chaos and calamity and blood are all that lies ahead. It'll be a marvelous time."
She slumped forward with a sigh. "You're not helping my anxiety at all," she grumbled. "I had hoped to have a vision tonight to ease my mind, show me that I'm on the right path, not sit here and listen to you talk to yourself."
"How rude," he huffed. "I'm talking to you. I'm braiding your lovely hair. I am here to lend you all my strengths and ages of wisdom and set you at ease. You do not need a vision and are unlikely to receive one—despite your little wine induced ritual with your handmaidens this evening."
Her cheeks heated with a blush. She had stayed up late working on the purse, drinking honey wine with Conis and Laki, and somewhere in there fell asleep in their arms after finding comfort in their companionship. It hadn't been planned by any means—the mead and fear and loneliness were to blame. Maybe a far-off hope that she could spark something similar to what she had with Kid, a feeling of security and desire so overwhelming, she thought she might drown in it.
She had received nothing more than solemn longing for what she had left behind, and envy for the ease her new friends found with each other.
"Oh, don't be so shy," Loki chided as she tried to hide her blush. "Not the first woman to enjoy the company of other women, and far from the last. Trust me, it is nothing compared to what we get up to in our centuries of life. After a few hundred years, things become so droll and boring. Gender and form, sometimes even species, becomes unimportant in regards to one's lusts."
She slumped over her knees, groaning. "I really do not want to hear about your sex life."
Loki laughed and returned to his braiding, humming to her as he gently scraped his nails over her scalp.
"Is this the right way? Will this work?" she whispered.
Loki hummed. "It is risky. So many possible outcomes. I do not know them all. Only one person has seen this path and its end, and she has not come to scream at me for misleading you, so I suppose you're doing something right."
"How will he react, though?"
"Who? Your king? Or your little wolf?"
"Either. Both."
Loki snorted. "The king is blinded by hubris. His arrogance makes him take risks others may not. He believes he is untouchable, that none can kill him. He believes he is the god humanity ought to fear, the very visage of terror, and swears he is immune to such emotion, himself. But there is fear in him. Somewhere. He hides it from himself. It will come out when he is faced with his own mortality, when he is reminded that he is but a man made of flesh and bone, easily broken by another of equal might." He hummed in thought. "That unseen fear and lofty narcissism make him unpredictable in many ways. Tread carefully around him. I do not believe you will be in danger until you have made a more definitive move against him. Placate him, tease his baser lusts, keep him distracted. You have the power to deflect his sight, his might, and he knows it. It amuses him right now, so use that to your advantage.
"As for the other, your little wolf—how do you expect him to react to your message? Will he see the plot you have so carefully hidden?"
Nami leaned over the branch to peer through the mist at the distant roots that hid Kid from her sight. She couldn't hear his chains that evening, nor his growls. The last few nights he barely seemed to be there. It worried her, but she had too much to worry about in her waking world to wonder where Kid might be in her dreams.
"He'll be angry," she whispered. "At first."
"Well, that's a given. He's always angry."
She snorted. "I just hope his anger doesn't make him act too rashly. He's smart. He'll figure it out if he keeps a calm head. But that's the part I don't know about. It's been weeks. He has to be feeling impatient right now. His temper gets worse when he's forced to wait." She sighed. "I just wish I could tell him myself. At least let him know everything will be all right. That I'll see him again. Somehow."
Loki stilled. "What if you could?"
She straightened and spun to face him. "You can take me to him?"
Loki grimaced and looked around them. "I am not supposed to."
"When has that stopped you before?"
"Ah, you know me so well." He leaped up with a warm grin. "We must be quick, and I can make no promises that your little wolf will be able to hear you. He has been sleeping less than you these past few nights, but your presence may reach him, yet."
Loki spread his arms, fanning his feathered cloak around them. In the blink of an eye, he encompassed her in a dark embrace, swallowing her in a swirl of golden-brown feathers. Her mind spun as her senses and world abruptly shifted. Upside-down, sideways, backwards, spinning and spinning, and then they stopped.
She blinked away the dizziness, and the next moment the darkness vanished to a new sight world's different from the fog and chill of Yggdrasil's realm.
Sunlight dappled lush grass and fragrant flowers and twisting vines. A thick canopy of trees towered above her, bearing fruits and nuts of all sorts, many she had never seen before. Birds sang in the boughs. A rabbit hopped into a bush. The crack of a branch drew her gaze to a deer foraging not far away.
"What is this place?" she asked, tilting her face up to drink in the warm sunlight peeking through the branches.
"Shh," Loki hissed as he took her hand and tugged her along a narrow, worn path. "There are many ears in this forest. He has set his elves to guard the area. We do not have long before they notice you."
"Wait, elves? Is this Alfheim? I thought you were taking me to see Kid?"
Loki glanced at her over his shoulder. "I'm taking you to see a piece of him. Freyr has tethered his spirit here and has been teaching him patience. Or trying to. I've been around to annoy him when it amuses me—helping in my own way, of course." He gave her hand another tug and ducked beneath a thick tree with low-hanging branches. "I think this will set you more at ease than visiting him in Midgard."
"But, I thought he was chained to the roots of Yggdrasil?"
"Hmm, sometimes he is there, sometimes he is here. He is sent there as a reward, to hear your voice and gift you his own. A treat he has been given quite often as of late. He has been doing well. Freyr is pleased. As am I, though I do hope this does not blunt his fangs. He will have need of those."
An anxious shiver raced through her as they slipped through the trees. She was excited and scared and hopeful, eager to see Kid again, even if it was only a glimpse.
Loki stopped and beckoned her to stand beside him. He held a finger up to his lips to remind her to stay quiet, and then pointed out at a clearing ahead of them.
Her breath caught at the man chained on his back atop a stone slab. The sun beamed down on him, painting his harsh features and crimson-red hair in a golden glow. He looked as though he were asleep, at peace in the field, but she could see where the chains cut into his wrists and marked the stone as he fought his bonds.
"How cruel," she whispered, her eyes burning as she imagined how much he suffered there.
"He fights his bonds less and less," Loki explained softly.
"He wouldn't give up," she hissed.
Loki chuckled and shook his head. "He is far from giving up. He has merely realized that force is not the key to breaking his shackles, they will only grow tighter if he struggles. He is being patient and contemplating what the bonds truly mean, how to shatter them once and for all. See how they rust and crack? He is so close. So very close to freedom. All he needs is one little push, and he will know how to attain his heart's desire. I had a delightful chat with him the other evening. I think he knows how to break them now—he is merely waiting for the opportune time to do so."
She glanced at Loki, and then looked back to Kid. "He's waiting for me?"
"That he is. He has faith in you, child."
Relief flooded through her, and with it an urge to cross the field, to go to him, to let him know that she was there, to touch him, to comb his hair, to kiss his lips, to show him how much she missed him.
She took a step forward but froze when a flash of gold at the other end of the clearing caught her eye. She ducked back into the shadows and clasped her hands over her mouth as a large boar sauntered out into the clearing. Gold painted its bristling fur and sharp tusks, but it looked as large and deadly as any wild boar she had seen in Midgard.
Maybe even larger.
"Hmm, now that is a guard you do not want to cross," Loki mused as they watched the boar snuffle and root at the soil around Kid's form. The trickster grinned suddenly. "Oh, this will be fun. I'll distract him. Try not to waste any time. I'll fetch you before the boar can gore you."
She nodded and crouched down, watching as Loki slipped off into the trees. The boar's head popped up when a branch cracked far away from her. A shrill whistle pierced the air, followed by Loki's voice singing, "Gullinbursti, I have missed you! Come play with me."
The boar lowered its head and kicked at the ground, snorting its ire before taking off into the forest to search for the trickster taunting it.
Nami crept out from the trees, keeping her eyes trained on the forest as she made her way across the field. A tree crashed far into the growth, a merry laugh echoed right after, and then a shout of pain.
She didn't know how long Loki would be able to keep it up and rushed the last few steps, hiding against the stone when the trees shook and fell with the chase. The bleating call of a stag came with a shriek of surprise, and further into the forest, she heard the call of a horn. An alarm had been raised, but no one came to the clearing to chase her away.
She quickly crawled up the side of the stone to perch on the edge beside Kid's shoulder. Despite the chains, he looked well, truly at peace in the sunlit field. His frame seemed sturdier, stronger than she remembered. His hair was longer, and she snickered at the bristly, red beard growing over his jaw.
She reached out and traced a finger along his jaw, his chin, his brows and nose. She could feel his warmth, the roughness of his skin, the tickle of his beard, but at the same time, she couldn't feel anything at all. It all seemed like a memory, not a man. A hollow ache filled her chest and her eyes burned, wishing it could feel real and true, the way it did when they were together. But he was not really there, nor was she. It was nothing more than a dream, an echo of what could be.
He barely stirred at first, but as she brushed her hand over his cheek, he leaned into the touch with a sigh. His lips curled into a frown, his brows furrowed as he seemed to seek more of her touch, nuzzling against her hand. She smiled, despite the weight on her chest, and cupped his cheek.
"Kid," she whispered, calling to him, hoping he could hear her.
He sighed again, his frown relaxing into a hint of a smile and a whisper of her name. His content expression and the depth of happiness in his voice beckoned her in, even as the cacophony in the forest grew louder and she felt a solid gaze upon her back. No one came to interrupt her as she leaned forward, brushing her lips over his forehead, his nose, and then his lips.
He hummed and she felt his smile grow.
"Kid," she whispered as she watched his eyes open.
His rusty-brown eyes were hazy and distant, not wholly aware, but they glittered with pleasure in that half-lidded gaze. He breathed her in as she kissed him again. His chains rattled, a growl rumbled in his chest, and he followed after her as she pulled away.
"Don't go," he rasped. "Not again."
The quiet plea broke her heart. She slumped over him as tears burned down her cheeks. He was being forced to suffer because of her, forced to face a destiny that could end in tragedy, doomed to fall to a curse neither of them deserved. But still he wanted her, still he waited for her.
"Kid." She sniffled, pressing her forehead to his as she willed for him to understand, to know what she truly wanted. "Save me. Please, Kid… save me."
She wanted to kiss him again, to remind him of what they had barely come to know, of a life he had promised her, a life she wanted more of, but a shower of golden feathers fell around them and strong arms embraced her, tearing her away before she could get more than a taste. She screamed and reached out for Kid, watched as his eyes snapped open wide, fully conscious within that other realm.
The last thing she heard before darkness took her was him shouting her name—a snarling, frothing, angry roar—and a clatter of iron chains.
She bolted awake in her bed and clasped a hand over her mouth to stifle the sob that threatened to break free. She could hear the distant roar echoing in her mind, the enraged, howling cry of a wolf. Every part of her trembled at the sound, desperate to find its source and soothe his rage.
And more than anything, she just wanted to be in his arms, in the place where she felt safest. As vicious and violent as he could be, he treated her with a tenderness so unlike him, she knew it was genuine. He fought so hard to protect her from everything that threatened her, even the shadows in her mind, the fear and sadness and regret. He held her close and chased them all away with a warm, rumbling growl, a heated kiss, a strong embrace.
"Lady Nami?" Conis whispered, gently touching her back.
She shivered at the delicate skin caressing her own. The touch was idle, seeking, lazy with sleep. It reminded her of the few nights she shared with Kid in his bed, even those that were chaste and innocent. Even before he confessed his desires, before she came to fully understand her own, they would seek each other out within the safe confines of their furs. A brief touch was enough to chase away the darkness of the night and bring her more comfort than she had ever known before.
But it wasn't the same. The spark of Kid's touch was absent in the way Conis grazed her hand over her back. It lacked the same affection, the genuine desire and warmth. It was comforting in its own way, a subtle reminder that she wasn't truly alone, and yet it made her feel lonelier than ever.
She bit her lip to stifle her sob as she curled around her knees, embracing herself as she longed for another to hold her close and tell her everything would turn out fine. She could use his brash assurances and dumb bravery right then. She had fought so hard to stay strong, to keep a cold, distant visage to everyone in Enel's hall, but it was crumbling at the weight of a potential failure.
If Enel didn't allow her to send this message, if he didn't believe—or at least humor—her proclamations, then all her work was for nothing. And if Kid misunderstood, if he let his rage take over, he might storm into a battle he could not win.
"Nami?" Conis asked again, this time more urgent as she sat up. "What's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?"
She shook her head and swallowed down her grief. She couldn't cry, not yet. It was too soon. She still had too much to do. She couldn't break now. She wouldn't break.
"I'm fine," she whispered, hardening her voice as she pulled away. "There's a lot to do today. I need to finish the stitching on my purse." She grappled around in the darkness of her room until she found her shift and robe. "It's still early. Get some more sleep. I'll wake you and Laki at sunrise."
She could just make out Conis's skeptical frown in the shadows. She waited for a protest, for further questioning, but Conis merely sighed and laid back down. Laki groaned at her other side, reached for her in her sleep, and let out a pleased hum once Conis curled in against her.
She left her handmaidens to sleep off the last of their mead. They had tried to keep up with her when she invited them to share her mead as she sought to drown her anxieties with wine. In the weeks since Laki joined them, they had gotten closer, warmed to each other, but there was still a distance she kept between herself and the other two women. She couldn't get too close, could only use them to her own ends, no matter how much she trusted them.
She was glad that they had grown closer to each other, found friendship despite everything they had to endure beneath Enel's heel. She wished she had the luxury to find the same. But if she made the wrong move, she could lose them. She would protect them from Enel's wrath for as long as she could, but she couldn't get too attached in case she failed on that front.
Stumbling into her sitting room, she searched for flint and a candle. Aisa was asleep on a pile of pillows and furs. The faint candlelight made her stir and burrow into her blankets, but she didn't wake beyond that, only let out a quiet groan at the disturbance.
The little girl brought another painful reminder of the children she left behind in Drafn. She hoped Kid was taking care of Sind and Ingvild for her.
She had never thought that she would miss so much of the home Kid made for her. She missed her own in Tingstad, longed to see her sister more than ever, but now that ache was joined with another. It only took a few months for her to find people as irreplaceable as Nojiko, and it hurt even more when she realized her thoughts began to center on Kid, overshadowing those reserved for her sister.
A pang of guilt struck her heart.
She would get Nojiko back, too. Somehow. First, she had to escape from Enel and return to Kid. She had to spark a war and help her wolf win it, and then she could think about Tingstad and all she left behind there.
If they could overcome this test, then maybe that was a sign of a better future, a chance for Kid to defeat the giant who haunted her nightmares.
She picked up the purse she brought from Drafn and turned it over to smile at the design she was nearly finished stitching into the base. It was inspired by a gift Genzo had given her when she was a baby, a toy he hoped would make her smile for him. He had carved a stave and painted it yellow and orange, then tied it to a string to spin the toy above her, silencing her cries with a pretty distraction.
When she was older, he had told her it was a special charm, a spell to protect the light in her smile from any who might bring her harm. The runes were carved to look like flower petals, curving with beautiful knotwork rather than the harsh, jagged letters etched into a plan piece of wood others crafted for their staves. Sowilo for the sun, to shine light and give guidance in dark times, and eihwaz crossed over it for the yew, to protect and motivate, to drive her to never give up hope. He carved the stave in happier times, had no idea of the darkness that would come, but the symbol remained in her memory, rekindled as she created her message for Kid.
He needed guidance and light as much as she did, and protection from any that thought to take him away from her.
She had stitched a basic knotwork design around the stave with yellow thread, weaving the mark into a pattern that would hide it unless someone scrutinized the piece. The stave was stitched with a golden thread that sparked a bit brighter than the dull yellow, and she weaved the thicker curves of the runes with tiny braids of her own hair. The orange stood out in the gold, but not too much for anyone to think it meant something beyond a pretty design.
If Kid missed the stave woven into the knotwork base, she knew he would not miss the pendant she affixed to the purse's new drawstring. He would recognize the amber studded cross and hopefully understand what it meant. She only hoped that he realized there was more to the purse than met the eye.
The purse was the crucial piece of her plan, but it was worthless if she could not get it to Kid. That was where her bathing ritual would come to her aid and provide a distraction to the king.
They had collected salts and orange rinds for days to mix with a batch of lye soap made solely for her. They would scrub every inch of her body, curl and braid her hair, and decorate it with every treasure they found—jewels, pearls, beads of jet and amber and gold, anything to prove she was a daughter of the Vanir, as wealthy and fair as her grandmother.
They even altered the golden dress she had saved for just such an occasion. The dress had been beautiful when she first saw it, but it had a loose fit and the neckline was too high. Conis and Laki helped alter the fit to make it snug to her frame, added pearl and amber beads to the bodice to flow over the curves of her waist and bust, and adjusted the neckline to reveal her shoulders and collarbone, dipping low enough to expose her scarred tattoo and the freckled skin she knew enticed Kid.
She hoped it was enough to entice the king and distract him from the purse.
She may not be strong enough to fight him, but she knew enough about the weakness and folly of arrogant men to know how to use her other strengths to her advantage. Enel may believe himself to be a god, but he was still a mortal man, and the weeks of flirting had proved he was not without a man's desires.
He liked beautiful, shiny, golden things, and she was the most beautiful, golden creature in his hall. She would remind him of that before asking this favor. She would give him everything he desired, all in the hope she could send one message that hinged on a man seeing through his rage just long enough to see beyond the lies to the truth hidden within.
He had seen through so many of her lies, he had to see through this one as well. His faith in her could not fail now.
Drafn
Kid gasped for a breath as he stared at the ivory before him, just one piece of the gift he had been slaving over for days, forgoing sleep to finish in time.
He wasn't sure how long he had dozed for; only knew he had been unable to resist the pull of sleep any longer.
He swore he heard her voice, beckoning to him on the wind as he delicately carved knotwork into polished ivory. He swore he felt her touch as he lowered his head and shut his eyes. He swore he could taste her lips on his, coaxing a smile from him as he floated between worlds and realms, seeking the one who called him away from his work.
And for a brief, beautiful moment he saw her. Warm, amber brown eyes sparkling with life, glistening with tears even as she struggled to smile. He could smell honey in her hair as it tickled his nose, tinged with the bright scent of oranges that suited her so well. He wanted to touch her, to reach for her, to kiss away her tears and promise her that he would bring her back, that he would never let her go again.
But before he could say anything, her words whispered in his ear and broke his heart.
Save me. Please, Kid. Save me.
He was fully aware of the sunlit field in that moment, painfully aware that she was there, hovering above him, kissing him with such longing and need that it drove him mad to have it taken away. But she was stolen from him in a shower of golden feathers, her scream shattering the moment of peace he found upon waking to her presence.
A falcon larger than a grown man swooped upon them, swallowing her into its wings, and took off in the blink of an eye just before a golden boar crashed through the trees with a frustrated god upon its back.
He didn't care about Freyr's ire, didn't care that Nami was not supposed to be there. He just wanted her to come back, he wanted to feel her kiss on his lips again, to hear her voice whispering in his ear, to know that she still desired him above all others. But they stole her from him. Those fucking gods, playing their games, driving him mad with riddles, and now taunting him with a visit from the woman he so desperately missed, only to drag her away before he could truly appreciate that she was with him.
In his rage, he jolted awake and cut himself on the chisel in his hand. The pain stoked his anger, but then her voice echoed in his ear once more and quelled his temper.
Save me.
As he caught his breath, he focused on her words, the only message she had been able to share in that place between dreams. For a moment he wondered if he had conjured the vision, if it was only a dream born from desperation. He had been thinking of her as he worked, as he shaped his gift with every desire he felt for her. But the dream had felt so real, the irate god upon his boar had seemed real, and the echo of her voice seemed as real as if she had been beside him all along.
He let out a shaky breath as he realized the dream had been no dream, it had been a vision as true as the others.
That meant something was coming. And soon.
Oslo
"You need to eat," he repeated for the second time that morning as he stood over his patient's bed.
McKinley kept his face turned to the side—his gaze set on the wall as he stubbornly glowered in response. His legs were bound in thick bandages, still immobile as the bones struggled to mend themselves. But the swelling to his face was healed, and the sutures in his gut and shoulder had long been removed. He should be able to eat without too much difficulty, but he refused food and seemed determined to wither away.
Law sighed. "You may not speak to me, but you're more annoying than the damn rat," he muttered as he set the bowl of porridge beside the bed.
"If he's not going to eat it, I will," Nezumi chirped from his cage.
"Shut up," he growled. "He's going to eat it. If he doesn't do so himself, I'll shove it down his throat."
He didn't know why he bothered at all. He didn't care about this man, but for some reason Nami wanted him alive. As far as he was concerned, McKinley was as responsible for the village's misery as the king, but Nami took pity on him, wanted to give him a chance to atone, to right his wrongs and prove he only acted in his peoples' best interests. He supposed the fact Enel thought he was disposable as everyone else inspired him to prove otherwise, to keep him alive just to see if Nami was right, if they could use the militia captain in their cause.
"Oh, just let him die," Nezumi huffed.
"Maybe I should just let you die," he shot back. "Or at least sew your mouth shut again. I take it back, you're still more annoying than this bastard."
A light knock on his door stopped him from force-feeding his patient, but he took a moment to grab McKinley's face and yank it toward him. "Eat, or I will pour it down your throat," he threatened. "I have not lost a patient in years. I won't allow you to change that."
McKinley huffed and jerked his head back. He cast a glance to the bowl on the table beside him, curled his lip, and then looked away again.
"Have it your way," Law said as he stood. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
Another knock drew him away from the bed, this time the pounding firm with demand. He was not surprised to find a bear of a man snarling at him on the other side of the door, but he was surprised to see the little girl perched in his arms.
He ignored Ove's sour sneer in favor of the girl. "Ah, finally a patient who listens to me," he said to Aisa. "How is your arm?"
She held up the once broken limb and grinned. It was still wrapped, but the swelling had gone down considerably. "I think it's almost better."
"Hmm, we'll see about that," he said as he moved to the side to let them in. Kamakiri followed Ove in, the slender man dwarfed by the Dane he owed his life to. "Set her on the table. While I'm examining them, could you feed that bastard?" He pointed to McKinley, now glaring at the guests he welcomed into his home. "He refuses to eat and insists on dying."
"Then let him die," Ove grunted as he set the girl down.
"Nami wishes otherwise," he reminded.
Ove hissed in annoyance and then grudgingly stomped over to the bed. McKinley's ire vanished as he stared up at the warrior, fear flickering through his eyes as he struggled to move away.
He left them to that battle, relieved he would not have to feed McKinley himself, and set to work unwrapping Aisa's arm. "Laki is not visiting today?" he asked, casting a look to Kamakiri as he sat at the table beside him.
"She is in the bath with Lady Nami," Kamakiri explained, frowning as he watched his master force a spoonful of porridge into McKinley's mouth. Ove slammed a hand over the captain's mouth, clasping it tight as he angled his head back, and forced him to swallow the food or choke. "Lady Nami has promised to clean and dress the lash wounds for you."
Law hummed. "They're mostly healed, anyway. She'll be fine without my treatment from this point forward," he said as he examined the bruising on the little girl's arm. There was some atrophy to her muscles, but she should be able to start using her arm again soon. "Aisa, why is Lady Nami so eager to bathe today?" he asked as he began to bind her arm with a new brace and wrappings.
Aisa watched him work, her cheeks puffed to hide any discomfort she might feel. He still caught the faint glimmer of a tear at the corner of her eye when he touched a yellow, mottled bruise. "She said she needs to be pretty at supper this evening."
"But she's already pretty," he idly commented. Aisa giggled while Ove growled behind him. He ignored the latter. "She told the king she was praying for Freyja's guidance."
"She doesn't need it," Aisa quipped. "She knows what she has to do and is willing to do it. The bath is just to make her extra beautiful. You'll see at supper."
Law glanced back to catch Ove's gaze. He knew Nami's plan in broad strokes, but this particular detail was not one she had thought to share with him. He knew about the purse, the message hidden within her carefully woven design, but he did not know exactly how she would get it to Eustass. Ove appeared as confused and uncertain as he felt. That was to be expected, though. Nami still was not sure if she could trust Ove, remained suspicious of the man who claimed to betray his jarl in favor of the king.
"Laki told me something," Kamakiri whispered, but said no more as he glanced between Nezumi in his cage and the broken captain in his bed.
Law sighed as he quickly finished his work. Ove took the hint and went back to his task of force-feeding McKinley, taking a sickening amount of delight in the chore as McKinley choked and fought back tears.
"My Lady insists that you live, so you will live," he heard Ove growl quietly. "Do not spit in the face of her merciful nature."
"Your Lady is the reason I am like this," McKinley hissed back. "Be careful not to let Enel hear you speak so fondly of her, traitor."
"He is not the traitor here," Law spoke up. "I would argue that you are the traitor. You turned away from your former king, from your own people, to prop up a delusional murderer."
"I enforce his laws to protect them," McKinley argued. "But now I can no longer do anything except die. I have failed King Enel. It is only a matter of time before he sends Ohm for me. Why pretend my fate is anything else?"
"Enel is the one who sent you to Drafn knowing that your men would die, that you may die," Law informed him. "You're disposable to him, and you know it."
"But you are not disposable to Lady Nami," Ove argued, holding out the spoon and bowl to urge McKinley eat on his own. "She feels remorse for your condition. She had not wished that upon you or your men. So, if you are going to die, anyway, at least die with some honor and prove her kindness holds purpose."
McKinley glared at the bowl, but he could see his resolve crumbling.
"Conis asks of you when I visit the hall," Law commented, and did not miss how McKinley perked up at the name. "She hopes to see you well again soon. Should I tell her not to bother over you, that you're going to die at the end of Ohm's sword despite all the effort we put into saving you?"
"Conis has asked about me?"
"I have no reason to lie. For some reason she believes you're still a good and honorable man. Is she wrong?"
McKinley looked at the bowl again and finally caved. He sat up straighter, reaching for the porridge. "Fine. I will eat. But you would do well to heed this warning—do not speak so openly against the king. He sees and hears all within his domain. He will come down on you if your loyalty is to anyone but him, even if it to his chosen priestess."
"I have no fear of his supposed sight," Law said. "It's hard to be afraid of something you do not believe in."
"And besides, Lady Nami has made an effort to ward this house against Enel's sight," Ove informed, much to Law's annoyance. She had insisted on hanging staves around his hovel, carved into polished rowan disks and painted gold to look like decorative coins. He did not care for the superstition, but he appreciated that she wanted to protect him. He did not want a militia captain with a strange concept of loyalty to know that fact, though. "Her staves are designed to deflect him from seeing or hearing anything we discuss here. He cannot strike you while we are under the protection of her kin."
McKinley appeared skeptical, so Law pointed to a table with old candles. "Ove—plug his ears with wax. He won't be leaving the house any time soon, not on his own feet, but I don't want to risk this reaching the king's ears." He glanced to Nezumi. "His, too."
Ove had not appreciated the order at first, but the addition of Nezumi delighted him. He hastily plugged McKinley's ears, pointing to the man in warning when he tried to pluck the wax out. It was in his own interest he remain ignorant of their conversation. When McKinley conceded and grudgingly returned to his meal, Ove turned to the rat in his cage with a gleeful grin.
"Oh no, please don't set him upon me again," Nezumi whined. "Please."
Law ignored his shrieks as Ove stuffed his ears with wax and smothered him with a gag—the latter he was immensely grateful for. He would have to sew his mouth shut again soon.
"What did Laki say?" he asked once they were free of prying ears.
Finished with Aisa's bandages, he gestured for Kamakiri to turn, allowing him to check the lingering wounds from his lashing. He had healed well. No infection, minimal scarring. Nami had shown more restraint than he thought—most of the blood on their backs appeared to have been her own. That small mercy had gone a long way in softening the Sami people she and Ove had claimed as slaves. They were, of course, unhappy with their plight, but they were more willing to believe that the position was merely a cover, a means to protect them and bring them into her confidence. They would be freed when the war was over.
"She could not say much, only that Lady Nami means to sacrifice herself upon Enel's altar," Kamakiri whispered.
"I don't like the sound of that," Law muttered.
"Nor do I," Ove grunted. "But she has to get her map to Jarl Eustass, and for such a freedom, she will have to pay Enel something in return."
"Will Eustass understand this sacrifice for what it is?"
"That depends on what she gives. Though—" Ove growled to himself. "He has faith in her. I believe he will forgive anything she does, so long as it means she can return to him in the end."
"Not something I would expect from a man who does that—" he pointed at McKinley "—when he is angered."
Ove's lips curved in a hint of a smile. "Love can make a man do many unexpected things."
"If you say so," he muttered blithely as he tugged Kamakiri's shirt back into place. He was well enough to go without bandages and salve now. "We should have a plan in place to guarantee your jarl understands her message."
"On that, I agree," Ove said as he sat at the table with a solemn frown. "But any move I make will bring Enel's wrath down upon me. He suspects my duplicity already. One move against him is all it will take."
"You swore he could take your hand if you betrayed him. Do you believe that is all he will take?"
"I am not a fool. He will take my hand, and then my head."
"But he will torture you first."
"That he will."
"Can you endure it?"
"I can endure anything."
Law frowned at the assurance. He didn't like the idea of sacrificing the man to aid Nami. He knew Nami wouldn't like the idea, either. He respected Ove's conviction and loyalty, but he wouldn't let a man die without considering other options.
He glanced to Kamakiri and then back to Ove. "There is a chance I can help you both flee the village."
"And abandon Lady Nami? I will not," Ove argued
"You will not be abandoning her. You will be aiding her efforts. If Eustass understands what she sends to him, it would be helpful if he had someone to negotiate this alliance with the Sami leader." He pointed to Kamakiri. "We need to get him to Drafn. Enel will not suspect anything if you gave chase to an escaped slave."
"And if he does? If he realizes what we are doing?" Ove asked.
"That is where I will come in, assuming you both can trust me."
Ove and Kamakiri exchanged a look, neither eager to trust him.
"Enel will not try to hunt down two fugitives if he believes they are dead," he argued. "I will not lie. There is a risk to this. One or both of you may die, and this whole plan will be for nothing, but believe me when I say I need and want Enel out of the way as much as you do. Nami has placed her faith in me, and I will not betray her trust in this."
Ove ground his teeth as he considered his options. "You said the king will believe we are dead, should it come to that. What exactly are you proposing?"
Law stood from the table to search through his chest of herbs and medicinal ingredients. He found what he was looking for, the bundle of leather he tucked far away from his medicines. When he returned to the table, he opened it just enough for the two men to peek inside, taking care not to let the little girl watching with owlish eyes see the contents. He knew the men recognized what he hid as their eyes widened in disbelief. There was a flash of concern in Kamakiri's eyes, but Ove buried any fears behind a stern, determined glower.
They shared another look and a silent conversation as he covered the bundle again. When they looked to him, they gave their nod of agreement, and he leaned forward, his grin widening with excitement. This was going to be a magnificent trick if he pulled it off.
"Now, all I need is a healthy pig."
Enel's hall buzzed with conversation when he arrived for supper. He knew the king would prefer he stay away, was tired of his presence in the hall, but Nami had insisted he come that evening no matter what the king desired.
Even if she had not, he would have shown up anyway to see what spectacle she meant to put on. And because it annoyed the king.
Enel sat at his table, eating as he conversed with Ohm at his right. Satori was too busy stuffing his face to join the conversation, and Ove was never inclined to chat with the king. When Enel noticed his arrival, he paused in his conversation to frown, but nodded to a table at the front to say he would not be sent away.
He found a seat across from Ove and waited to catch the man's gaze before nodding to the empty chair between the traitor-priest and the king. Ove frowned, then shrugged, but said nothing, only gave a passing glance to the king who watched them from the corner of his eye.
Tensions were high and Nami's absence was not helping.
He ignored Enel's suspicious gaze as he loaded his plate with fish and vegetables, gratefully held out a cup to a passing thrall to fill with fresh mead. By the time he had eaten half of his meal, he finally felt the king's heavy gaze leave him.
Just as the room's din fell silent.
He glanced up from his plate to see what drew everyone's attention. The men around him were slack jawed as they stared at the hall leading deeper into the fortress, their breaths caught in surprise at the woman gracefully sweeping into the room.
Law couldn't help as his own jaw loosened in surprise. He knew she was up to something, but this he had not been prepared for.
"Nami," Enel greeted with genuine cheer. "While I do not appreciate waiting for you company, I must say, it is delightfully worth it this evening. I see the gown I picked for you fits well."
"After some alterations," she said, her tone lofty and sharp as she moved between the tables to arrive at the front of the room. She did not go to her table but stood before Enel's dais with her head held high and expression hard with resolve.
Enel's eyes swept over her, his grin cocking with obvious approval. "Yes, I see. Still, you wear it well."
Law had to agree.
Over the weeks since her arrival, he had seen Nami in what passed for noble dresses and cloaks to the northern people. Furs, leathers, high quality wool—all brightly colored and embellished with embroidery and beads. He had no doubt that Enel had procured the finest clothes for her, the king eager to dress up his new possession as though she were a doll crafted for his amusement.
But this dress put all the others to shame. She stood before a king with the stature of a queen, decorated head to toe in all manner of precious stones. The dress hugged her curvy frame, drew the gaze to the fair and freckled skin of her shoulders and chest, then down to her waist and wide hips. The gold-dyed wool was embroidered with an elegant thread, woven with amber gems, colorful pearls, and golden beads that caught the firelight so that she glittered like some manner of ethereal being.
Chains of gold were embroidered into the long sleeves, appearing like precious shackles as they clasped around her wrists. She matched the trim with actual golden chains wrapped around her neck, dripping with amber and emerald. It was beautiful jewelry, but the meaning was not lost to him.
He dragged his gaze back to her face, to the stony visage she wore before Enel and his men. It was a mask he knew well.
As Aisa had promised, Nami had scrubbed herself clean of all filth that might dim her beauty. She shone on her own, even without the gold paint lining her eyes, or the pearls woven into her long, wavy hair. She wore no crown, save for the elaborate braided coif atop her head decorated with golden coils and pieces of amber and jet, but she truly held the air of royalty.
If any man in that room doubted her nobility before, they had no choice but to believe it now.
"Is this part of Freyja's guidance?" Enel asked as the others in the room continued to stare at her, utterly entranced. His lopsided grin seemed too eager, too hungry, too vicious, but he watched as Nami only took a calm breath and held her posture under the full weight of the king's attention.
"It is," she answered.
Enel laughed. "I see. Yes, you have been quite eager for her advice. I heard you with your handmaidens last night. I'm sure you enjoyed their company in your bath today, too."
His gaze snapped to Nami to see her regal persona melt into a brilliant blush. Her bashfulness had a coy, flirtatious air to it, a hint of innocence that others would find endearing.
Judging by the sloppy smiles and pink cheeks around him—Enel's men found her more than endearing.
He cast a glance to Ove, watched him frown as he clutched a hand into a tight fist. The man held his tongue, restrained any urge to growl and warn the others away from her, but he could see the instinct to protect his jarl's lover darkening his eyes.
"I've told you before, my king, I do not want to waste your time with a needless war," Nami continued, gracefully navigating her embarrassment with a lilting laugh. "But I fear I must spark one, regardless. I knew of no other to seek aid from than my own grandmother. She understands war far better than I, and I had hope she could show me a way to spark that war elsewhere."
"Elsewhere?" Enel prompted, leaning forward with that wickedly amused smile.
Nami straightened, regained her lofty composure, and nodded. "I wish to send a message to Jarl Eustass, one I hope will turn his gaze from me here, once and for all."
Enel cocked a brow. "Go on. What message do you wish to convey?"
There was a flash of anger in her eyes, a sneer twisting her lips. "I am done dealing with unworthy, lesser men fighting over me, taking me hostage, chaining me to their sides when I want nothing more than to be free, to be who I was meant to be. First Jarl Arlong stole my childhood from me, thought to use me, to control me, to stifle me." She waved her hand at the tattered mark on her shoulder. "He sealed me away from my potential. It is his fault that I have had to deal with terrors in the night, had to wrestle with a sight I should have known since I was a child. He did not see me as a queen. He saw me as a tool, a child, a means to claim a land he has no right to."
Enel sat back with a hum. "Yes, he was a fool to do such a thing, but what does this have to do with Jarl Eustass?"
Nami stepped forward, her hands balled into such tight fists, her flesh turned white. Still more anger colored her cheeks, and he watched as the men near her were shaken from their lustful stupors at the sight of her rage. They shifted away, cowered in the face of a witch's wrath.
"Jarl Eustass is no better. Sure, he tried to ply me with gold and sweet poems, but I was a captive, all the same. I warned him. I told him of my terrors, of the visions I had seen. He will die at the feet of a giant, crushed and destroyed, as will all his people. Still he refused to release me. He even bound me twice when I tried to flee on my own, to run north as I had always intended to do."
Law glanced at Ove, curious if that accusation was true. Ove caught his gaze, frowned, and gave a subtle nod to his silent question.
"I could feel it in my bones," Nami continued, her voice raising with her anger, and deepening with a terrifying growl. More men in the hall shifted anxiously. There was a charge in the air now, fear laced the warriors around them while their king, their god, sat drinking it all in with utter delight. "The gods were calling me this way. I would have found my way to you sooner if not for his interference. I could have spared his village suffering if he had listened to me, but that stubborn, infuriating bastard thought he could possess me. Just like Jarl Arlong. So, I say, let my vision come true. Let him seek war with my giant and die at his feet. Maybe if I am fortunate, that bastard will keep one promise to me and take Arlong to Hel with him."
Enel stared at her, silent and contemplative, and then threw his head back with a mighty laugh. "My, my, such fury. I could feel the earth shake beneath my feet, the air quake with your thunder. Yes, my sweet cousin, you are a daughter of the gods, truly."
"Thank you, my king," Nami said, calming as she bowed her head. "You honor me with such compliments."
Enel stood from his throne, chuckling as he made his way around the table. He slowly descended from the dais and came to tower over the priestess before him. He set a finger beneath her chin and gently lifted her head to face him again.
He caught Nami's thick swallow in the bob of her throat. Her shoulders stiffened and trembled, but she did not look away from the king once he had her gaze.
"So? What, exactly, are you proposing? You wish to send Jarl Eustass a message. How do you mean to persuade him to turn from my lands and attack Tingstad?" Enel asked, his lidded gaze far too calm.
"Eustass was not without his uses to me. I mean to quell his temper with gold, repaying him for whatever debt he may believe I owe him," she said, finding her courage as she graced the king with a cunning smirk. She turned and waved to someone on the other end of the hall. "Is it ready, Conis?"
Law turned to watch the handmaiden hurry from the back rooms, her head bowed low as she carried the purse that hid her message within. He had to smother his urge to grin as he realized what she was up to.
"Send one of your priests to him with this," she said as she took the purse and held it out to the king. "Tell him it is payment for lodging, food, and medicine. A small token of my appreciation for the sacrifices he made for me." Her smile was wicked and cruel. And utterly stunning. "And then tell him I have declared here, in front of you and your most faithful priests, that I have chosen my king, and that my family has given their blessing. This is where I belong. This is my home. I refuse to leave this place, and if he dares come for me, Freyja will put a curse upon he and his men far worse than any he could imagine. She will put a pox upon his people, a pestilence upon his farms. They will die miserable deaths and find themselves in the deepest, coldest reaches of Helheim for eternity. Even Odin will turn his back on them."
Enel grinned. "Such cruelty. Such callousness. I would expect no less from them. And how do you hope this will turn him to Arlong?"
Nami's smile sharpened with a sadistic amusement that did not suit her.
"Kid will believe any vision I have had. He's a fool. He thinks he can break my curse by killing Arlong and surviving. And he believes he will be rewarded with my heart for only that. As if I would want to be a jarl's wife." Nami let out a harsh, haughty laugh. "He's hardly even a jarl. He's a boatbuilder who just happened to be the bastard son of the last jarl and got his title by killing him. He doesn't even try to enrich himself as you have. He's happy building his little ships and rushing off to war." She tilted her head as a thought struck her. "I suppose it wouldn't be so bad. I could rule in his stead and pray to the gods that he does not return from his next raid. Then I would be free to do as I please. Still, that is hardly a fate worthy of Freyja's most beloved granddaughter, the very last of her mortal line. She wants me bound to a king, a god who understands what I am capable of, sees me for what I truly am.
"But, why not let him believe he has a chance for just a little while longer? Tell him I have foreseen a way to have me, but he must fulfill his promise to me first. He must slay the giant and survive, freeing Tingstad from Arlong's hold. By surviving a death I have foreseen, the gods will grant him my heart for eternity, and he can come to claim me then."
"And what if, by chance, he succeeds in this false test of the gods?" Enel asked, his amusement waning as he examined the purse Nami gave him.
She laughed. "He won't. But, fine, let's say he does. It will be nearly winter by then. He will have a hard time returning home, his allies will be battle weary and likely abandon him—assuming they do not abandon him when they hear how I've rejected him. And in that time he was away, you will have seized Drafn entirely. He will return weakened from his battle, with no hold on his jarldom. It will take no effort at all to cast him into the seas. Let Rán take him, then. I owe her for helping me flee Arlong, and then you will not have to waste any more men or resources on a fool."
Enel hummed as he turned away from her, tossing the purse and catching it as he returned to his throne. The purse was filled to near bursting with gold and jewels, but the king didn't seem worried about the contents. He held it up, angled it to examine the beautiful stitching Nami had placed in the bottom.
If he suspected what was hidden within, he did not show it.
"You wish for me to send a priest?" Enel asked. "Did you have one in mind?"
Nami shrugged. "That is your decision, but I suggest one who is stronger than McKinley was." She snorted. "Though, if you do not care about sacrificing another messenger, you could just send Ove. Assuming he does not cower at the task and flee south with my gold."
Ove growled at the slight but quelled his rising temper. "I would be happy to deliver your message, Lady Nami," he said, voice thick with feigned sarcasm and resentment. "But you know as well as I do that Jarl Eustass would put an arrow through my eye at first sight. Your message would not have a chance to leave my lips and your plan would fail."
Nami huffed and rolled her eyes. "True. But I would not mourn it."
He wondered if she truly thought that, or if she made the suggestion because she knew Ove was a spy. He could deliver the message safely—the real message. He would not have to risk drawing Eustass's ire. He could hand over the purse and inform him of the secret inside.
But if Enel truly suspected Ove of duplicity, he would not allow that to happen.
Enel chuckled. "While I know you would rather not share a dinner table with him any longer, Nami, he is correct. If you truly wish to spark this war elsewhere and turn your wolf's eyes away from you, then you need a messenger he may actually let speak before killing them."
"Then Ohm or Satori would be best. I saw them slaying dozens of people in your attack. I know they are strong enough to fight back if Jarl Eustass attempts to kill them for my message. But they are your priests, so it is your choice who to send. I trust you know better than I on this matter."
"They will need a small army if they are to survive," Enel mused, considering his two priests. "Satori. You and your brothers deliver this message to Drafn. Take a few days to gather your men and prepare a ship." He tossed the purse to the other priest. "Jarl Eustass will likely be enraged by this, so be prepared for a fight."
"I'm sure his anger will make him especially stupid," Nami quipped. "Just kill him, then. I don't care."
Enel chuckled. "There you have it. Either kill him yourself or send him to be killed by a giant. Fine. Saves me the trouble of dealing with a mangy wolf."
He couldn't trust that Enel believed Nami's ruse. Her show of anger and apathy seemed genuine enough, but no one else in that hall had heard Nami speak of her feelings for the jarl. Unless everything she told him was the true lie, but what purpose would she have lying to him about that?
For now, it seemed the king was amusing her request. Perhaps he hoped the message would anger Eustass too much to realize there was more to it. There was a chance of that depending on how Satori delivered it. From the few conversations he had with the priest, he knew he was not one to speak delicately. In fact, he would likely share Nami's proclamations with cruel delight and goad Eustass into attacking recklessly.
He glanced at Ove to see the Dane hiding a worried frown behind his fist, his brows knit in deep thought. He caught his gaze, watched the frown deepen before his eyes swept to Nami as Enel invited her to sit at his side and feed him. She skipped up the dais, wearing a brilliant grin, and perched herself on the arm of the king's throne as she took a platter of fruit from a servant.
When Ove's gaze returned to him, he gave a stuttered nod and then ducked his head to eat the last of his meal.
Law understood what that meant. Nami's plan came with a heavy risk that could work against her, that was why Enel allowed it. So, it was in their best interest to take their own weighty risk and see that their own plan got the real message to Eustass before he could bring his wrath down upon everyone who stood in his path.
They only had a few days to get the details into place. He didn't need a prophet's foresight to know the chances of success were stacked against him, but if everything went exactly as he planned, they might be able to pull it off without getting anyone killed.
Bad odds hadn't stopped him from getting this far in life. He wouldn't let them get in his way now.
All he needed was a damn pig.
A/N: I'm on a roll with my writing for this fic, so we'll see if I can write the next chapter within a week or two again. You can guess what the next couple of chapters are going to be like, I'm sure. :)
Again, thank you for the reviews!