Warnings: Violence, gore.
Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters.
The Ordeal of Gold
"I do not like this plan of hers," Ohm muttered as they watched Satori's crew finish preparing their ship. "It reeks of deceit."
Enel squashed the urge to chuckle. Ohm was not wrong, but most everything out of Nami's mouth these days was a lie. They were sweet smelling lies and once her hope was crushed, they would be nothing but the truth.
"Satori is not strong enough to handle this task," Ohm continued, his opinion colored by his envy.
It was so rare to see from him, but Enel had fostered his priests' competitive spirits to the point of rivalry. He did not want them to be friends. He wanted them to strive and grow stronger and prove they were the best. If they grew to care for each other, then they might try to combine their strengths against his. A fruitless endeavor, one that would lead to their deaths, but he did not want to waste his time battling his own minions.
He would have to replace them and that was too much trouble.
Nami, of course, was the exception, but that was because she required a different means of subjugation. She was hardly strong enough to be a threat. Her veiled defiance was a merry amusement, though, if he were being honest, elements of it were beginning to grate on his nerves. But soon enough he would break her, and he would have the perfect priestess, the ideal follower to lead the masses of his future kingdom. She would be his in every way.
Unfortunately, he would have to make a few sacrifices of his own to claim his victory.
"Jarl Eustass will surly kill him," Ohm huffed.
Enel shrugged. It was the most likely outcome. There was a haze over this path, it was difficult to discern the odds of Satori's survival with as much certainty as he had when McKinley was sent. When he tried to see through the fog, he came upon a strange barrier in his sight. A warm burst of air pushed him back into a freezing mist, dispelling his magic before getting more than a glimpse of blood-red puddles on the ground.
If it was Nami's magic blocking his sight, then he was not certain how to feel about it. It was delightful in many ways to see how much she had learned while in his hall, to watch her grow with his influence. She had an instinctual understanding of her magic, though at first it had only been evident in her weather prediction. Now she was wielding it against him. It was annoying, yet once she saw him wield his own with his full might, she would bow to him and he would have a priestess, a queen more powerful than any other.
His power and rule would never be questioned again with her at his side.
He glanced sidelong at his priestess where she stood near the rocky beach with her precious Corazon. She huddled against the foreigner, wrapped around his arm to combat the early morning chill, and spoke with him in a hushed Frankish. That was a relationship that would need correcting and soon. He did not mind making his own sacrifices, but Nami would need to make her own.
He was not certain where Corazon stood in all of this. He had his own interests in Nami, that much was obvious, but where those interests would lead was less clear. For now, he seemed intent on aiding her.
He was a trickster in the guise of a healer, and tricksters were never to be trusted. Surely, Nami knew this and harbored an ample amount of doubts concerning her new friend. Doubts that could easily be exploited. Corazon may be a trickster, but he was not the unpredictable sort. He was not a chaotic firestorm, a whirlwind of action with little thought for consequences. No, he was the predictable sort. He would have a plan to aid Nami's plan, and that plan would have weaknesses and risks that could work in his favor.
Enel glanced to the other side of the beach where Ove sat on a rock, scowling at the bay. He had been less careful about hiding his true purpose there as of late. Furtive glances, soft smiles, a protective snarl whenever she dared draw too near another man. Ove did not lust for her, Enel knew that. But he was an agent of the one who did. A very loyal one.
His loyalty blinded him. He would get himself killed.
Enel perked up as an idea struck him. It formed in the moment he caught the spy looking toward his ward. If that fool of a berserker had set upon a path guaranteeing his death, he may as well use that to his advantage.
He chuckled as he turned away from the docks.
"King Enel? What is it?" Ohm asked, preparing to follow.
Enel waved him off. "Nothing you need worry over. Nami, walk with me."
The priestess tensed at the sharp command. Her companion straightened to glare over her head at him. There was reluctance in their parting, but Nami obeyed her king in the end.
Her smile was tight, and her frame trembled. She masked her fear by drawing her cloak tight, feigning a chill as she skipped over to him.
"My king," she said, oh so sweetly. She batted her eyelashes, wore a mask of bashful innocence. Lesser men would turn into a fool at the sight of such coquettish beauty. No wonder her wolf was so eager to war. He had lost his wits to love.
Enel held out an arm and watched the woman's lips part with a surprised gasp. "Walk with me," he repeated.
She released a shaky breath before slowly wrapping delicate, pale hands around his forearm. They were still warm from cuddling up to the healer—an annoyance he would forgive if only because it saved him from feeling ice cold skin on his.
Nami glanced to Corazon over her shoulder as he tugged her along with him.
"Problem?" he asked.
She had to skip and jog to keep up with his strides at first, forcing him to slow before she could trip into a puddle of filth.
"No. No," she stammered, her grip on his arm tightening. "I am just honored you would escort me this way. I am so used to following in your magnificent wake, I did not think I would ever be deserving of walking at your side."
Such sweet smelling lies.
He chuckled as he slid a hand over hers, savoring how she tensed at his touch. The blush staining her cheeks drained of color as he leaned toward her, towering over her tiny frame until a shadow of fear fell upon her eyes.
"You are not worthy. Not yet. But I desire your company and that is all that matters to me," he whispered. "What were you discussing with Corazon?"
She swallowed hard, her grip tightened until he felt her nails dig into his flesh, and she shivered most delightfully. "He's worried my message will anger Jarl Eustass," she whispered.
"And why would he worry over such a thing?"
"He does not want this war to strike us here," she explained. "He says it will be troublesome."
He laughed. "Is Corazon a seer now, too? Ha, but he is right. It will be troublesome. If he survives, it will be even more troublesome for him. He'll have so many more patients to heal and he seems perturbed by the few he already has. He may up and leave when that time comes to avoid cleaning up the mess."
He glanced down to see Nami's stricken expression. Her eyes were dark with fear and doubt, clouded with uncertainty.
"What bothers you, my dear?" he asked.
She shook away the darkness and smiled radiantly at him. He glowered at the fresh mask.
"Nothing, my king."
"Do not lie to me, witch," he warned, deepening his voice until her mask cracked and her fear showed through again. "Tell me what troubles you."
Another hard swallow. Her gaze trembled as she looked away. She would lie, or find a truth that may appease him, he was certain of that.
"I—uh—I'm afraid I have angered you," she whispered. He hummed, urging her to elaborate. She flinched at the sound, as nonchalant as it was. That pleased him. "If—If Satori does not return, I will have lost one of your priests to this needless conflict. I know McKinley's survival did not matter to you, but he is not as crucial as your priests. I know it will not weaken you, but it's still a waste of your men. I hope Satori returns quickly."
She blinked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. He did not believe them for a moment, but it amused him.
"Ah, my dear, do not fret," he said, reaching out to wipe a tear she let slip down her cheek. He would make those tears real once this war was through. She would see what misery she wrought by daring to defy him, and she would learn to never do such again. "If Satori cannot survive meeting your wolf, then the failure is his, not yours. I will not be angered. If anything, you will have shown me how weak my priest is. There will be no place in my court for a priest who cannot do such a simple task as deliver a message, let alone slay the man who will attack him for it. Tell me, do you know what will happen to him? Have you seen his future?"
She shook her head but pursed her lips and shrunk down when he glared at the lie. "Jarl Eustass will attack him," she whispered. "He will kill them all. I think. I could not see much. Only blood. So much blood. But the wolf's howl followed me as I woke. He was so angry. So hurt." Her tears thickened and she clung to him. "I'm afraid," she said too softly for anyone but him to hear.
Her fear was genuine, and he wondered if maybe she was beginning to fear her wolf. Perhaps she knew the message would anger Jarl Eustass into such a violent rage, that even she would not be safe. She needed to fear her god more than her wolf, but if she doubted her champion's sense, that worked in his favor, as well.
"I have been thinking," he mused as he turned within the fortress walls to lead her around to the side of his hall. She looked up at him, eyes wide and filled with feigned interest. "If your wolf comes for you, I will not slay him. Not immediately, that is."
Her steps faltered and he had to stop to catch her before she tripped into the mud. That worked fine for him. They were out of sight now, tucked against the side of his hall without her faithful guardians to see.
"Thank you—" she began to stammer, but her gratitude was silenced as he swung her against the wall.
She gasped in a sharp breath at the force, her beautifully curled and twisted hair fell free of its golden clips to cascade around her face. She looked up just in time for his hand to wrap around her neck, pushing her back as he leaned down to level his eyes with her. His grip was hardly enough to bruise but fear still blossomed in her eyes as she reached up to claw at his hand. He squeezed to warn her, and she stilled.
He could feel her throat bob beneath his palm. He enjoyed that feeling most of all.
The tears brimming at the corners of her eyes were all too genuine now. The way her lip quivered drew his gaze, but he would resist that temptation. For now.
"You fear what your wolf will do when he is angered by you," he whispered. "And oh, how he will be angered. But it will not be enough. No, no, he will not believe your betrayal until he sees it with his own eyes." He grinned as he watched her eyes widen. Her breath caught as he leaned in to brush his nose beneath her ear. She shivered and her grip on his hand tightened as she let out a helpless whimper. He loved that quiet noise. He would have to draw it out again. "You have proclaimed me as your king and god. I will take that declaration seriously, even if it is a lie." That earned another whimper, but this time her body relaxed with forced submission. "Your flirtation amuses me, Nami. I enjoy it. I enjoy it even more knowing you are terrified of what may happen if I indulge it more than I have, if I take what you seem to so freely offer. But I will wait. I will watch this fruit ripen and turn into something far more succulent than what you offer now."
She trembled as he brushed his lips over her throat, squeaked and whined as he trailed his teeth over the spot. There was a protest on the tip of her tongue, but she pursed her lips and shut her eyes to restrain it. Her tears fell free, sharp with grief and fear, and he shifted to kiss one away.
"You will, of course, submit to me when the time comes. You will rejoice when I take you to my bed, because you will have no other choice but to be mine," he whispered, smiling as more tears flowed to his waiting lips. "And your wolf will be present to witness that glorious moment when I make you mine."
Her eyes shot open with her gasp. She understood why he would leave Eustass alive now. She understood with such sharp clarity, her fear became lost to anger.
"Careful, my dear," he warned as her gaze turned harsh, a fire burning bright in amber orbs. He could almost feel the electric heat of her rage beneath his fingertips, sizzling in her blood. There was power within her, power that, once properly fostered, he would wield as if it were his own. They would be an unstoppable force together. "I will see that you enjoy it. A boon I will bestow upon you for bowing before me. It will anger him even more to hear you declare your pleasure at my hand, begging and pleading for your god to give you more. It will bring me even more pleasure to watch a man's heart break before my very eyes. And then, when he is at his most hopeless, his most defeated—when he crumbles to the floor, tears of betrayal pooling around him—that is when I will take his head."
He could feel her growling beneath his hand, her lips twisted in a sneer. He pulled away laughing.
"Do not be angry with me, Nami," he teased. "You will only have yourself to blame for it. I would not have entertained the idea at all if not for the… hmmm… conviction of your ruse." He tapped a finger beneath her chin as the anger fell away and she blanched at the new realization. "You are a beauty unlike any other in this hall. No slave has satisfied me since you began to weave your enchanting spell upon me. You should be proud of your success. No other has had the power to steal my sight in such a way. It has made for such an intriguing game." He traced his thumb beneath her lip, grinning as fear overtook her again. "You amuse me. I can read your every emotion, see it so clearly, and yet you still try to deceive me. You can end this so easily, you know. All you have to do is listen to your fear and give up. Give yourself to me, give up this senseless notion that your wolf can save you, and be my queen as you are meant to be. I will give you everything you could ever desire. Gold. Jewels. Land. Servants to wait on you hand and foot. Power unlike any you have known before. Everything. All you need do is fall to your knees before me and renounce that man's claim on your heart."
Fear gave way to sorrow. The deep, wallowing pit of despair born of her truest fears darkened her eyes. There was that hopelessness he craved, that desperation, that willingness to do anything to survive, even if she had to give herself to someone she did not love.
"Could you—" she began to ask, her voice so weak and frail he had to lean in to hear her. He could smell the salt of her tears as she turned her face up to him, staining the delicate aroma of citrus and honey in her hair. He liked both scents. He liked them too much. They clouded his thoughts, muddied his reason. Her breath was a warm rush against his lips that halted him before he drew too close and forgot himself.
"What is it?" he prompted when she remained silent too long, dragging his gaze from her lips to her eyes.
"My sister," she whispered, a quiet whimper lacing her words. "Do you have the power to save her?"
He straightened at the question, an icy tendril crawling down his spine. "You have a sister?"
"Not of birth," she explained. "The shieldmaiden who saved us, raised us as sisters. She means everything to me. More than anything else you could offer me. I have"—she sniffled pathetically, and her tears fell again—"missed her so fiercely since leaving Tingstad. I fear for her life. I left her at Arlong's mercy. I don't need any more gold. I don't need anything else. But if you can get my sister for me, I will be yours in every way you desire."
It was a desperate gamble. The sister was true, and he suspected the offer was, as well. She was drawing his attention from her lies, shielding herself from whatever ire he may feel for her scheming, or perhaps using the enchantment she cast upon him to her utmost advantage.
"What of your wolf? You claimed to want him to attack Tingstad and Jarl Arlong for you. If he does that, what will happen to your sister?"
She slumped against the wall, her head hanging in defeat. "He doesn't even know about her," she whispered.
"And he dares to claim your heart," he said, chuckling. "Clearly, he has not truly attained it. Perhaps he has your lust in his grasp, but that is easy to win. Your love is another thing, entirely. I have no desire for your love. I only desire your fear. Rescuing your sister will be a waste of my time unless she may provide a use for me." He hummed as a thought came to him. "Arlong holds her hostage so that you will continue to fear him and his anger. He has wielded your affection for her as a weapon, I am sure. Perhaps she has a use for me, after all."
Nami's head snapped up in surprise. "You'll save her? You'll get Nojiko back for me?"
"I will consider it."
He could see the emotions warring in her eyes. Fear. Hope. Excitement. The offer was genuine. She would have him rescue her sister from the clutches of a giant, even knowing that he would use her as Arlong had—a hostage to ensure she remain at his side.
He clasped her jaw and forced her whole attention on him. It did little to staunch the renewed hope blossoming in her eyes. He supposed he could allow it, if only because her hope was in him. He would not mind earning her true adoration.
"But first, your wolf must be dealt with," he said. "If Satori returns, successful in delivering your message, we will keep an eye on Drafn to see what Eustass intends to do. If he moves for Tingstad, believing your false vision, then I will send Ohm to fetch your sister before she can fall victim to that battle. But if Eustass still desires to war with me first, then your sister will have to wait a while longer."
"But you'll still save her?" she asked earnestly.
"If it will guarantee your undying fealty to me, then yes."
Nami lit up brighter than he had ever seen before. There was no fear, only happiness. He drew back at the strange feeling coiling in his chest. It was a pressure that made him uneasy, if only because it was so pleasant. He wanted her fear, but her adoration was beginning to have more of an appeal to him.
He would have to break this enchantment she placed upon him. It was liable to blind him when he needed his sight most.
He cupped her cheek as she beamed up at him with the brilliance of the sun after a long winter without. "Perhaps I should crush Arlong first," he mused. "I am sure seeing his head on a pike will please you even more than having your sister safe and sound in my hall."
A cruel light entered her eye at the idea.
"You like that thought," he teased. "It brings you pleasure, doesn't it? I will allow you to torture him for all that he has made you suffer," he offered, tempting her with a dream he knew she had held for too long. "Show him the power he was so misguided to squander. I will crush him and then hand you the blade to be his final undoing. You would like that, wouldn't you? To see his blood flowing over your hand as you slice open his neck. I can give you that, Nami. All you have to do is forget your wolf and bind yourself to me."
He could see how it tempted her, but he could also see how her heart would not forsake the one who had a hold on it. Her excitement dimmed, her tears returned, and she shut her eyes as she turned into his hand, nuzzling his palm with forced affection.
"Something to consider, then," he whispered. "You may kiss my hand if you desire, then be off. Go practice your sight. See what may come of joining yourself to me."
She gave an uneasy nod and then brushed a fleeting kiss to his knuckles, a pithy attempt to appease him. He stepped back to give her room as she gathered her skirts, unable to meet his eyes as her thoughts spun with his offer. She bowed her head, a half-hearted gesture given as an afterthought, before departing in the direction of their quarters.
He watched her go, his amusement waning as the distance grew. The intoxicating effect of her presence lessened as he realized what she had just done to him.
She had turned his threats in her favor.
He spun away with a sneer. The witch has more power than I thought. But that power will be mine.
Drafn
He snarled and struggled as laughter filled the square around him. His temper simmered, but he restrained his rage while fighting against the grip on his arm. It would do him no good to get angry.
Nami would kill him if he hurt the brats.
"Ow! Magnus! Biting is against the rules, you little shit," he shouted, finding just enough strength to kick the boy off without breaking his jaw. "Sind, get the fuck off me! You're supposed to be fighting Magnus, not me!"
Sind snickered as he sat on his chest. Two other brats had him pinned by the arms. Magnus had one leg until he kicked him off, the other wrestled by another boy. With one leg free, he tried to knee Sind in the back, but Magnus flew back in to reclaim his hold.
He had thought to join the children as they continued their glima training. More of the boys in the village had taken to the task, giving Sind and Magnus more friends to play with while expelling whatever energy and anger resided in them. Magnus's behavior had improved with the practice, inspiring the mothers to send their boys, giving everyone a daily routine that no longer required his full attention.
Ingvild pestered him to watch that day and he caved to the little girl's pout. He was nearly done with Nami's gift, a day off couldn't hurt.
That was what he thought until he found himself tackled into the mud by a herd of children, leaving him at the mercy of Ingvild and her friends.
He didn't start struggling until they brought the flowers out.
"Let the girls have their fun," Bonney shouted over the chaos, cackling madly with delight.
"It's only a few flowers," Hulda taunted. "They won't kill you… unfortunately."
"Fuck you, you witches," he snarled. "Killer, get these brats off of me!"
"No can do," Killer said from somewhere above him. "My burns hurt too much today."
"Fuck that, you fucking liar! I saw you hauling wood without flinching! Get them off me! Ah, shit, stop biting me!"
"Magnus, no biting," Killer scolded. "If you want to annoy him, he's ticklish behind the knee."
"Fuck you, you traitor," he hollered before having to bite down on his lip to restrain a laugh as the boy followed Killer's direction. He shuddered and shook, and then another brat found a spot under his arm that made an embarrassingly high-pitched laugh leak out.
"Keep going," Hulda encouraged. "He might piss himself."
"I'll fucking kill you," he growled, the threat lacking true bite as more laughter broke free.
Magnus got a boot off and went for the bottom of his foot. That was the last straw.
The children screamed as he gathered his strength and flung them off one by one. Sind was saved for last. He flipped the boy onto his back, pressing him into the mud as he cackled at his victory. Flowers fell from his hair as the other boys tried to attack him again. Two were gathered beneath his arms without much struggle. Magnus climbed on his back and tried to bite his ear, but he pulled him off by the scruff and pinned him with the other three, ignoring the boy's attempts to snap at his arm as he held him. The fifth boy that had thought to attack him sat cowering a few steps away, whimpering as he gave the child a snarling grin.
"Try it," he dared. "Come at me."
The boy shook his head, so Kid pretended to lunge. The boy shrieked and kicked back into the crowd, finding the girls and hiding behind their skirts.
"That's enough," Killer said as he stepped in front of Kid.
"Oh? Now you put a stop to it?" Kid snarled, but most of his temper was quelled. He threw back his head and cackled, then began to stand, snatching Magnus and Sind by the ankles on his way up. He hauled the boys upside-down, ignoring their struggles, and held them in the air to show the crowd, earning a mixture of cheers and laughs. Hulda threw a rock. He pointed at her with the hand holding Sind. "Oi, I'll fight you next, bitch."
"I don't fight boys with flowers in their hair," she called back.
He sneered at her just as the horns in the bay echoed over the village.
He dropped the boys and shared a look with Killer, then glanced back at Hulda and Bonney. Hulda had no ships coming. She sent her men to gather her allies, but they would all come on foot or cart from the south. Bonney brought all her ships, as did Franky and Paulie. No one else should be coming from the bay.
"Get out of the village," he snapped at the onlookers and children. "Anyone who can't fight, leave now. I don't want you in my way."
The adults and most of the children understood, but Sind and Magnus lingered, the latter snarling at the ship slowly making its way through the water. With how Enel launched his previous attack, he doubted this ship was there to attack, merely another messenger, but he wasn't about to risk it.
Especially considering how he treated the last messenger.
"Boys, get the fuck out of here," he shouted at them as he grabbed his lost boot and slipped it back on. "Guard the women and children, but don't get in my way."
Sind gave a stuttered nod and grabbed Magnus by the arm to drag him from the square, passing Franky and his men as they left their work to see what was happening.
"I need men guarding the villagers as they leave," he said to Franky. "I won't have them massacred by another surprise attack."
"On it," Franky said, turning to his men to bark out orders.
Most of the villagers that returned were housed close to each other while the rest of the village was being rebuilt. The women still had their quarters, but other homes near them were filled with families brave enough to return once they saw his allies amassing their forces. He appreciated their loyalty, and he wouldn't let them suffer again. He just needed them out of his way in case a fight broke out.
"Archers up high," he commanded. "Don't take a shot until I give the signal."
"You want your new axe?" Bonney asked.
He snorted. "No. Don't want to chip it before it has a chance to smash Enel's head in." He had a feeling he would only need a knife for this. He hoped that was all he needed. They were nearly ready to march on Oslofjord, they couldn't afford to waste good warriors on a skirmish here. "But I'll take a hand-axe, just in case."
One of Bonney's men tossed an axe his way. He caught it by the pommel and slipped it into his belt without taking his eyes off the bay. Wire would be there to greet whoever was on the ship, other guards would be stationed nearby, prepared to fight or send another horn blast to signal any trouble, but Kid would wait outside his hall until he knew which direction the day was going.
He had a good feeling about the day. He felt a spark of heat in his limbs, a surge of energy building with every moment he had to wait. He felt ready to move, but he forced himself to remain still. Something was coming to him. Something important. The dream he had of Nami days ago still tickled at the back of his mind. This was the moment he had been waiting for, the moment he knew it was time to move.
Gier and Axel sprinted through the village from the docks, and judging by the rage twisting Gier's expression, he knew it was going to be an interesting meeting.
"It's a priest," Axel said in a rush once he reached him, bending over to gasp for breath while Gier growled beside him. "The one who killed Hroarr."
"And struck Nami," Gier added, surprising everyone there by speaking at all.
Kid was too enraged to care about anything beyond killing the bastard who dared lay a hand on his woman.
"He came under a messenger's banner," Axel rushed to added. "He's not here to fight."
Kid growled. "How many did he bring?"
"Forty."
"He may not be here to fight, but he's ready for one." They still had time to prepare. His archers were already taking their places on rooftops and in trees. "I want fighters at the docks. His army is not allowed to leave the beach, only the priest may come to the hall. Halle, have a horn ready. No, wait, they didn't give our people the courtesy of a warning last time. Keep out of sight. You'll know when to slip away and give a signal for our men to attack. This bastard slaughtered my people without a care. I'll slaughter his in turn."
"Then send your archers and don't let them leave their ship at all," Hulda argued, coming forward with a sword already drawn. "We can aid them in the clean-up."
"I want to hear this message," he explained. "And I don't want to damage the ship. We can use it in the future."
Her lip curled with a snarl, but she sheathed her sword and nodded in grudging agreement.
Bonney signaled to a handful of her men who then scattered off to relay the plan to her warriors. Axel hurried back to the dock, waving for more of his men to follow and prepare for battle. They had to be quick and quiet to avoid sparking a fight too soon. He didn't want anything drawn out. He wanted to crush them. No mercy. His people were given none. These bastards deserved even less.
He settled on the steps of his hall to wait. Bonney helped herself to a chair on the porch, kicking her feet up on a table without a care. She had food to occupy herself. This was nothing more than a show to entertain her. She'd leave the fighting to him for now. He was fine with that. It meant she wouldn't get in his way.
Everyone who decided to remain at the square—either curious of this message or eager to back him up—scattered around in a semi-circle. Some cut off paths of escape, readied their weapons in case the priest brought his soldiers despite Kid's command. Hulda was the only one to throw herself onto the porch steps beside him, releasing an irate huff at the thought she couldn't fight yet. She'd have plenty of blood on her hands soon enough.
The priest was hard to miss as Wire escorted him through the village. He was a large, stocky man dressed better than the last messenger Enel sent. He seemed too rotund to be a warrior, more of a soft nobleman who spent his days lounging in his hall getting fat on his people's food, but if he had killed Hroarr, he knew not to overlook the man's strengths. He carried no sword, only a bow and quiver, but he came with two warriors who resembled him so closely, he could guess they were brothers. They carried short swords in their belts and appeared tense, ready to attack even as their priest sauntered through the crowd without a care.
"Who among you is Jarl Eustass?" the priest called out, looking around the others with snide disdain. His gaze landed on Bonney. "Ah, Earl. I recognize you. King Enel was curious if your king is aware of your current activities?"
"Like he cares?" Bonney said with a derisive snort. "You're not here to talk to me, Satori. You want to address that bastard there."
Hulda snickered beside him, ignoring his snarl of warning before she could make a quip. She didn't have to. The priest—Satori—chuckled and spoke first.
"Ah, yes, Lady Nami did mention something about a bastard usurping his father," he said.
Kid shot up from the porch and took a step forward, hand at his axe. "Say another word and I'll cut out your tongue."
He'd have to have a word with Nami when he got her back. It might not be a secret among his men, but the manner of his birth was not something she needed to be sharing with his enemy.
The priest tittered. "Oh my, you are an angry one. She mentioned that, too; said you would probably act stupidly and get yourself killed. But I at least thought you'd hold your temper long enough to hear her message."
Kid forced himself to straighten. His heart pounded frantically, anger and confusion warring in his chest. The way the priest spoke of Nami seemed too familiar, too friendly. He was certain it was just to get under his skin, but it still left him uneasy.
"Then say what you came to say," Kid bit out, restraining his temper with every ounce of patience he had.
Satori grinned. "Lady Nami has made her choice," he announced. "She has declared herself for my king and agreed to become his queen."
Kid felt something snap inside him—a rage so deep, so fathomless, he could not move under its weight. His chest ached. His mind spun. Everything went cold with disbelief.
Hulda stifled a laugh behind him. Bonney's chair creaked as she stood. Tension grew around the square, as his warriors and allies straightened. They didn't ready for battle. They prepared to flee.
But he didn't move. He couldn't move. The chains had loosened, but now they returned. Coiling tight, cold limbs around his throat, biting into his heart with the ferocity of a snake.
'Do not doubt my granddaughter's choices,' Loki had hissed at him.
Liar. Trickster.
A bell rang out high above, dragging him from icy, dark thoughts that threatened to consume him like the deepest sea.
The priest glanced up and his smile shifted into a harsh sneer. Kid followed his gaze, curious what angered him. The falcon had returned, this time with a bell cuffed to its leg that chimed with every lazy flap of its wings as it circled the village.
'Do not doubt her,' he heard again, but the chains only held tighter.
'Breathe,' he heard whispered to him on the northern wind. 'Just breathe.'
It was a different voice—one he had never heard before. Feminine and light, lilting and sweet. A warm caress, a purring hum. He took a breath and felt the chains loosen once more.
His anger remained. It sat heavy in his chest, waiting for the right moment to lash out. But he held it there, stilling himself against the doubts teasing the back of his mind. There was more to this message. There had to be.
Nami may lie about many things, but he knew she would not willingly give herself to a king who killed those she cared for. And she wouldn't forsake him. Their courtship may have only just begun, but he knew her feelings were genuine, he knew she longed to be with him again.
She reached for him in that dream. She kissed him with such desperation. She flew across realms to gift him with the memory of her lips. She would not forsake him. Not here. Not now. He had to trust her.
Satori dragged his gaze from the falcon, his good mood soured, but set about untying something from his belt.
"She is grateful for what services you provided her while she was here, though she is loath to say as much when she was treated as a prisoner as much as a guest. She is willing to soothe your ire at this news with payment for her accommodations." He tossed a large, heavy purse at him. Kid caught it without breaking eye-contact as anger sparked in his chest. "I am sure that is more than enough to aid in your rebuilding efforts." Satori looked around the village with an expression of arrogant disgust. "Maybe enough to rebuild it a few times over. Or perhaps save it for something more useful. My king will return to destroy this village soon, anyway. May as well let it burn."
He growled as his rage clawed for control. He gripped the purse tight as he tried to hold back, to wait for some sign that everything the priest said was a lie.
The warm brush of a gold cross broke him from his growing fury.
He glanced down at the purse as Satori giggled to himself, continuing on with his message even as Kid only gave him half his attention.
"She did wish to express some hope," Satori rambled through his laughter. "She had a vision."
Kid spun the purse to see the gold cross tied to the purse's string. He recognized it instantly and as his thumb brushed over the amber stone, her voice echoed in his thoughts.
Save me.
"What vision?" he asked, distracted by a presence at his side. He looked down to see Bonney staring at the purse, her gaze on the amber. Her eyes flit to his, a brow raised in silent question. She was surely remembering the vision he had when Nami was taken and the fit he woke to, desperate for a single piece of amber to calm the anxiety roiling in his chest.
"She said if you turn your rage onto Jarl Arlong and defeat him as you swore to do, the gods will gift her heart to you as a boon for breaking her curse," Satori explained.
Kid looked up, confused. That couldn't be true. Defeating Arlong was not what would break her curse, and the gods had no say in who Nami's heart belonged to—that was for her to decide, and her alone.
Hulda hissed with contempt. "Well, I did not sign up to fight this… Arlong, whatever his name is—"
"Shut up," he barked.
"Oh, come on. Don't tell me you believe this harlot's—"
The look he gave her not only silenced Hulda but made all color drain from her face. He could see the veins in her throat as though fear alone constricted her. She shut her mouth and bowed her head, unable to hide how her hands trembled.
With her complacence, he cast a look toward Killer. His cousin understood what he wanted and nodded before slipping back into the crowd.
Kid turned his attention back to the purse, flipping it over again and again as he examined every piece of it. He recognized it now. It was the one Nami used to collect her fines, but she had altered it. Before it was just a simple leather pouch, bigger than his hand, with frayed seams that threatened to burst with every piece of gold or silver she tucked inside. Now the seams had been mended with yellow thread and the bottom strengthened. The leather at the base was firm, solid, likely holding a wood lining to protect against a cutpurse.
He carefully turned the purse over and felt a laugh bubbling in his chest at the decoration embroidered into the base. Yellow thread gave way to gold, an intricate piece of knotwork fanning over the leather like the warm rays of the sun. And within that embroidery was a stave woven with strands of fiery amber thread.
No, not thread—hair.
His heart thundered as realization dawned on him. She had enchanted the purse. She had woven a protection stave into the base, cradling whatever hid inside. This was her message.
"Why do you look so amused?" Satori asked. "Has your anger made you go mad?"
He let his laugh free at the question, threw his head back and cackled loud enough he was sure everyone in the village could hear him. When his elation passed, he set upon Satori with a fierce grin.
"You say she made her choice, huh?"
"That's right," Satori said, he and his brothers tensing as he closed the distance in slow measured steps.
"She chose her king, did she?" he asked as he came to a stop right in front of the priest, careful to hide the knife he drew from his belt.
"She did. She chose King Enel."
"And you believe that? You take that lying witch at her word?" His smile grew as he felt his chains fall away with every steady beat of his heart. He could see doubt flicker through Satori's eyes as Kid lifted the purse. "This tells me something very different. This tells me that you and your king are fools, unable to see a trickster hiding in plain sight."
"We know about the—" Satori began to say before Kid's knife slammed between his ribs.
In a spray of blood, his brothers collapsed at either side, their throats slit in the span of a single breath. Killer and Gier quietly wiped their knives clean as Satori tried to shout in alarm only for his voice to catch and strangle under the weight of Kid's furious grin. He twisted his knife until he felt warm, wet blood flow over his hand, and pushed into Satori's face, chuckling as he listened to his breath come in a pained wheeze.
He had to go through a lot of fat, but he found the bastard's lung just fine.
"You're right. Nami made her choice. And she's chosen me."
He yanked the knife free and shoved Satori back so he could tie Nami's purse to his belt. He didn't want her precious gift damaged in the melee to come.
The priest stumbled, clutching at his wound as fresh blood rapidly stained his rich white tunic. He struggled for a breath as blood dribbled over his lips. "You think this is enough to kill me?" he asked as he grappled for his bow, surely hoping to take advantage while Kid seemed distracted with the purse's tie.
Killer leaped at him, short sword drawn, and sliced at Satori's hand before he could pull his weapon free.
Half his hand fell to the ground as the priest let out a shrill scream.
"I'm not going to kill you," Kid said as he stepped forward again and slammed his foot into Satori's gut. The priest's breath left him in a rush, and when his body tried to take another, he doubled over coughing and choking on blood. "Not yet," he added as he threw his knee up into Satori's chin.
The priest fell back with the force, choking violently as more blood flowed from his mouth. Kid fell upon him, straddling his enormous gut, and grabbed him by the jaw. The bastard struggled, tried to wrench free. The slick blood on his face made it difficult, so Kid shifted to take him by the throat. He pressed down on his windpipe—not hard enough to crush it, just enough pressure to cut off what few breaths he could draw into his punctured lung. Once he stopped thrashing, Kid reclaimed his hold on Satori's face and jerked it to look the man in the eye.
"Gier, which eye was it he shot Hroarr through, again?" he asked as he hovered his knife over the terrified eyes staring up at him.
Gier pointed to the right eye.
"Ah. Thank you," he said, before slamming his knife into the priest's eye and laughing as the man screamed and thrashed once more. He twisted and dug, felt his rage simmering hot in his chest. It felt good—a heady, satisfying thrum of pleasure as he controlled it, focused it, set it entirely upon the man beneath him.
His blood burned in his veins. A crackle of energy licked over his spine. He could move. He was free.
He would slaughter the maniac king who thought to stand in his way. He would destroy everything and get her back.
And he would never let her go again.
He would give her everything he had. He would give her his life. His wealth. His power. Anything she desired—he would give it. He would love her as fiercely as any man could love another. He would fight to stay with her, to keep her at his side, to never be parted again, for as long as she wished it. He would fight the gods if any tried to take her from him. He would fight Odin if he dared to send his valkyries for his soul.
He swore that oath as he spilled his enemy's blood. He offered those first drops to her, to Nami, to seal the promise he made.
His life was hers, and he would live it with her. He would never let her fight alone again.
As his fury ebbed and calmed, he could hear the cacophony of battle in the distance, screams and cries nearly drowning out the clang of steel and the thrum of bowstrings. The beach would be dyed red with blood, as would the square. He'd let his people see the punishment he inflicted upon their families' rapists and murderers. He would remind them why he was in charge, why they trusted him to keep them safe. He would show them how he would carve their vengeance into the flesh of everyone who dared wrong them.
He would parade Enel's head through the village when the war was through. He would feed that bastard's entrails to the pigs. He would piss on his pyre. He would be satisfied with nothing less than that false-god's utter humiliation.
Satori stilled beneath him and he pulled his knife free, pleased with the thick, viscous blood and flesh dripping from the steel. The priest's chest rose and fell weakly beneath him. He was still alive, which suited his intentions just fine.
"String him up," he ordered as he stood. "Make sure he's nice and comfortable. Oh, and get his brothers up where he can see them. I think our archers could use their corpses for target practice. Wouldn't want him to miss that." His men gave a cheer as he headed for the hall, yanking Nami's purse free. "Oh, and tell the brats if they want to fling stones at anyone, they can chuck 'em at the priest. Bet Magnus will be excited about that," he added. "Just don't let him kill the bastard yet. I want everyone to get a chance to make him suffer before I take his head."
He leaped up the steps into his hall, Killer and Bonney right behind him. Hulda found her courage again and followed but kept her distance until he tossed the purse on a table. He snatched a rag from a passing servant to wipe the blood from his hands, tossing the stained cloth into the fire once done.
"Oi, Killer, I need a clean knife," he said as he opened the purse and dumped the contents out on the table. He grinned at the clatter of precious metal and stone. "You think this'll put a dent in my debts, Bonney?"
She leaned over to see the pile of gold coins and amber encrusted jewelry—beyond anything Nami would ever willingly part with. The king clearly did not know Nami as well as he did if he didn't suspect what she was sending with that gold. She would never part with her treasure, not unless she was certain she would gain something more valuable in return.
The thought soothed the pain in his chest, turning it into the dull throb he had grown used to since she was taken. He missed her more than ever, but he would have her back soon.
"Hmm, might take down a quarter of it," Bonney said. "Let's hope the king has a more sizable hoard than this."
Kid snorted. "I'm sure he does. This is all Nami's stash, maybe a bit more that she collected from Enel's men these last few weeks, but this purse was full when I last saw it, too. The gold isn't what's most important in here, though."
He nodded his thanks to Killer when he handed him a clean knife. He didn't want to get Satori's blood on Nami's stitching, least of all the hair woven into it.
"What are you doing?" Hulda asked as he carefully cut around the base.
"Finding her real message," he explained. The circle of leather stitched to the purse with her embroidery fell away. He tucked it into his belt—a keepsake to remind him that she missed him, too.
Within the leather added to the purse was a circle of wood carved with runes he guessed was a protection ward. He chuckled as he traced his fingers over the rough cuts in the rowan wood. Dark brown splatters and smears told him she had cut herself carving it out. She gave her own blood to protect her treasure—whatever she hid was truly precious.
He didn't want to know what else she gave, what other sacrifices she made in the king's court to see her true desires reach him. He would not judge her for doing whatever it took to survive and return to his hall.
He was too grateful to see how desperately she reached for him to care about anything else. Nothing else mattered, so long as he had her in his arms again.
The circle of rowan was easy to pluck from the bottom of the purse, but there was nothing between it and the leather. He glowered at the wood, held it up to catch the firelight, spun it to examine every edge until he found a faint seam in the wood.
"Oi, Killer, hold this steady," he said as he set the circle on its side and pushed his knife into the seam. Killer took the wood and handle of the knife while Kid pulled out his axe. He crouched down to get a good angle and tapped the axe against the end of the knife, splitting the two pieces of wood apart.
She had sealed it near the edges with an adhesive made from animal fat, but within the circles of rowan sat a hollow core holding a carefully folded piece of parchment.
He laughed as he pulled the parchment free and began to spread it over the table. The others gathered around him, leaning over to see what she sent.
"You weren't kidding when you said she's skilled," Bonney mused as she examined the map. "This is beautiful."
Beautiful and full of details he needed to plan out his attack.
"And what's this," Hulda said, snatching up another piece of parchment that had been folded within Nami's map. "Oooohh, I think it's a love letter."
He grabbed the parchment before she could unfold it and snarled, "This isn't for you, then."
Hulda snorted in amusement while he examined the parchment. A length of golden thread wrapped around the note, a string of tiny amber beads dangling from the knot securing it. Nami surely sent it for him, but he wouldn't get his hopes up that it contained any loving words.
He tucked the extra parchment into his belt and set his attention on the map.
He recognized Drafnsfjord well enough without the tiny sketch of a hollowing wolf, but the personal detail still made him smile. To the north and east sat Oslofjord, marked with a hammer and lightning bolt. She extended the map far to the east, across the straits to Svealand, marking farms and bays dotting the cost. He knew Tingstad by the mark she gave it—the shark Arlong bound her with.
Bonney pointed at the shark. "Does this mean she does want you to fight him first?"
He glowered at the map as he considered that option. "No. She likely drew it as a ruse in case Enel asked about this map. Here—to the north of Oslofjord—what's this?"
Bonney and Killer leaned closer to examine the strange snake-like creature Nami drew in the mountains. The snake wound through the valleys and peaks, blending into the terrain so perfectly, only the gaping, fanged maw of the snake bearing down on Oslo gave away the creature's presence on the map. Nami wouldn't have drawn it if it didn't have significance.
"There are letters beside it," Bonney said, pulling the map closer to inspect it. "She hid them in the trees. I think it's Frankish. I can't make it out. How did she write so small?"
"She probably used a lens," Killer mused.
"Father had a lens he got from a Muslim trader," Hulda remarked. "Oi, you better not have broken it."
He growled at the accusation. "I didn't break it, witch. It's in my workshop."
"Then go get it, idiot."
He sneered at the command but stormed off to find the old glass lens. He had kept it secure in his workshop, using it for intricate pieces—like the falcon he gave Nami for her last gift. He found the small box where the lens sat gently wrapped in leather and fur and hurried back to the hall to find Bonney and Killer arguing over the map.
"There's a shipyard here. If we attack—"
"Nami wants us to focus on the west," Killer interrupted.
"He'll expect an attack from the west. If we take out his ships, he'll be crippled."
"She only drew one ship—"
"To signify a shipyard."
"There are people hanging from nooses beside it. She's warning us away."
"Maybe she means we'll have an easy time killing the guards there," Hulda chimed in. "String them up, let the king know we mean business."
"And burn the bastard's ships," Bonney added.
"This isn't going to be a fight at sea," Killer argued. "He won't need those ships."
"Except to flee," Bonney pointed out.
"He won't flee," Kid said as he shoved his way into the argument, handing the lens to his cousin. "Killer, read what she wrote."
Killer sneered at Bonney one last time, then leaned over the map with the lens to better read the tiny message Nami hid among trees and valleys.
"In the lands of trolls and giants, among frost covered peaks, hidden within a river valley lies a bitter, angry snake. Fangs drip with venom, eager to poison Thor's blood. A man clad in a bear's flesh and a horned mask sharpens his blade by the—wait, this word isn't Frankish. It's—it's runes. Sejte?"
"Let me see that," Bonney huffed, snatching the lens to see for herself. "It's the svear word for sieidi."
"Sieidi?" Kid asked, looking between Killer and Bonney. "Isn't that a Sami thing?"
"They're stones the Sami clans use to offer sacrifices to their spirits," Bonney explained. "I think Nami is telling you there is a Sami warrior to the north of this snake figure who may be another enemy to the king."
"A potential ally," Kid mused.
"And likely another berserker—if that is what she means by bear's flesh," Killer said.
"Enel must have driven this clan from their ancestral land. But does he hold his grudge only against the king who stole his land, or all Norse?"
"Eager to poison Thor's blood," Killer repeated. "Enel claims to be descended from Thor. This clan only wants him dead."
"For now."
"If we claim victory, they can take their lands back. They will hold no grudge against those that return their home to them."
Kid hummed in thought. "I suppose it's an option. I don't want to waste time hiking through the mountains in search of this Sami clan."
"The rest of the message," Killer said as he took the lens back to read, "it says five days, six nights by way of a steady horse. Bring gifts for the trolls at the pass. Good weather will follow."
"So, we waste another fortnight here?" Hulda huffed.
"No, we don't. We send a messenger. They can meet us halfway. Here." He pointed to a valley further west. "She marked these forests close to the village with goats."
"Enel's patrols?" Killer asked.
"Most likely. But this valley here has no goats, only boars."
Hulda pushed her way in to scrutinize the map. "I remember tales mother used to tell of an ancient meeting place there. Witches and priests of the Vanir went there in secret. There's a spring nearby said to be blessed by Freyr, making the land fertile and overrun with boars."
"I could eat a whole pack of boars right now," Bonney muttered under her breath.
"Well, if we meet this Sami berserker there, you can have your fill of boar," Kid said.
"What of the shipyard to the east, then?" Bonney asked, shaking off her appetite to focus on their strategy. "You can't believe that she's warning us away from it, can you?"
Kid took the lens to examine the ship Nami drew within a small cove. There were bodies hanging from nooses attached to the ship but written within the lines of the ship was another message, this time in simple runes.
"A sacrifice to bless a golden ark," he read. "I don't know what that means. We'll send scouts. Here, to the south, along the eastern coast. If they're spying on us, we'll send a scout ship toward Svealand, make them believe I've listened to her false vision. Find a river running inland north of Tingstad, follow it, then turn back around to follow the coast. Beach the ship here, then hike toward the valley from the southeast. It would be best to know what sort of fleet he has. I still don't think he'll flee, but his people might if the king falls. I don't want any of them leaving. They'll just get in the way in the confusion."
"So, if we can get this Sami clan to join us, we can flank him from all sides," Bonney said.
Kid nodded. "I want Enel's head for myself." He pointed at the hammer. "He'll be waiting for me here."
"You don't think he'll fight with his army on the other fronts?" Hulda asked.
"No. He knows I'll be coming for Nami. He'll stay close to defend her. But he may be drawn out to fight me if he believes I'm leading a charge elsewhere." He hummed in thought and then tapped on the hill to the west the village. "Hulda, I want you to set a camp here. I'll send Gier with your forces. Bonney, you want the east?"
"I'll send my scouts in the next few days," she agreed.
"Good. We'll divide Iceburg's forces between west and north, Paulie can build catapults for the west. Franky and his men can come with me to attack from the bay. He can set up a blockade in case Enel does try to run. I want this battle to be quick and decisive, but we should prepare for a long siege."
Bonney snorted. "This bastard has your girl captive and you're preparing for a long siege? I think we both know you'll storm whatever fortress he's keeping her in and take her back in a day."
"Sure, I'll get her back, but still have to fight his armies," he said, grinning. "That might take two days. Maybe even three. If they're smart, they'll surrender the second my axe finds his skull." He pushed away from the table with a laugh. "Now let's go see how our new guest is being treated."
Kid slipped away from the violent revelry in the square late in the evening.
Satori had woken as his men strung him up—just in time to watch the boys use his brothers' corpses for target practice. The priest did not go unscathed. When the villagers returned, many came to toss mud and stones at him, taking their anger out on one of the leaders of the assault on their peaceful lives. Some of the survivors had witnessed he and his brothers' cruelty first-hand and took their punishment from their flesh, cutting fingers and nails, carving curses into their faces to see their spirits only knew torment in death.
The mothers who lost children were the most vicious in delivering their curses, and he had no doubt Nami's family would see those curses held true.
As much as he enjoyed seeing Satori suffer for his crimes, he was eager to read the other message Nami sent for him.
Ingvild was tucked into bed in Nami's room, sleeping peacefully for the time being. The flowers she wove into his hair earlier remained in place. He had forgotten all about them until he tried to tie his hair back and found his fingers tangled on the stems and buds. He left them in place when he saw her pouting after ripping a few out, enduring the mockery to keep the girl happy.
She was upset enough seeing the priest and his brothers tied up in the square. He didn't want to add to her anguish. If a few measly flowers kept her from sobbing for the whole night, then he'd leave them be.
Sind was still outside playing with Magnus, the two boys getting archery lessons from Heat and Stig. The boy would be brought to bed soon enough, so he only had so much time to read his message without a child invading his space.
He pulled Nami's message and the embroidered stave from his belt as he sat on the edge of his bed. He angled the stave closer to the candlelight to get a better look at it first. He wasn't sure how Nami came up with design, didn't know what meaning it might hold for her, but he knew it had to be special if she took the time to clip and weave her own hair into the knotwork. The stave blended seamlessly into the intricate design, he only made out the general shape of the curved runes because of her bright hair, and he still almost missed its significance because of the curling ends of the runes.
He wasn't certain, but he thought the larger rune was sowilo, while the rune slashed across its middle was eihwaz. Their curled ends made it difficult to be certain. The two runes combined in her style made them look more like a simple flower than a stave. He would have to ask her what it meant when he had her back.
He set aside the stave and tugged at the knotted string binding her message. His hands trembled as he pulled the string free. His heart pounded in his chest as he unfolded the parchment. He didn't know what she might wish to tell him, hoped it wasn't more messages about strategy or this Sami warrior she learned of, but the way she delicately tied this one piece and kept it separate from the map told him it was important.
He sighed in relief when he saw the message was in northern runes.
His next breath caught when he realized it was a poem.
His heartbeat was thunder in his ears, his pulse a sizzling electric current through his veins, and his mind spun so fast, he couldn't focus on the letters.
As he tried to calm his heart and find his breath, he focused on the design bordering her runes. The flowing knotwork was simple, resembling golden veins with fruit hanging beside tiny leaves. At the corners of the parchment she hid the stave from her purse, telling him it did hold importance to her. As simple as the design was, she must have spent a lot of time on it.
It struck him then that her words held weight, that they were something special, something to be treasured. She had put thought and effort into the poem. No matter what she wrote, he knew whatever feelings she conveyed would be the undeniable truth.
He took a deep breath and forced himself to read.
Handmaidens warm my bed
Frost cradles me as I sleep
A mountain sits upon my chest
Secrets held tight by my tongue
A sea falls from my eyes
Unkissed by your lips
Twilight comes too slow
As I long for he who I treasure most
The gods gift him to me in dreams
But dawn comes before I am ready to wake
I suffer no iron
I endure no flames
Such torture would be a pleasure
For I bear the ordeal of a serpent's lair
Draped in Freyja's tears
Crowned with Gullveig's fate
Pierced with spears
Set upon a pyre
Thrice over
They cannot burn me
Only your fire
May consume my soul
And when the gods return me to your embrace
I shall bind my life to the one who holds my heart
So that we may never part again
Air fled his lungs in a rush as he came to the end, and the seal of her gold painted lips left to dispel any doubt of what her poem meant.
He read her words again and again, burned the runes into his mind. He brushed his lips against hers, hoping that soon it would not be just a mark and a memory left to tease him with what he lost.
He could smell honey on the parchment, a touch of sweet orange, too. He breathed it in. Savored it on his tongue.
'She misses you fiercely, little wolf.'
The trickster had spoken true.
Every bone in his body ached with the need to hold her. His lips burned with the need to kiss her.
And then he spotted a small scrawl of runes—a messy, hastily scratched message written as an afterthought.
The children better be well, or I will gut you like a fish.
He laughed at the warning, even as his throat constricted with grief. He missed his fiery kitten more than ever.
He plucked a soft blue flower from his hair and stared at it in thought. He had the gift he intended to send her, and the words that would now become a reply.
He only needed a way to get them to her.
A/N: I will always put children in KidNami fics, if only to make Kid be playful and almost fatherly to them.
I hope I'm describing Nami's 'magical' effects on Enel well and how it's disrupting his sight (beyond him being horny, lol). I'm trying to use language to invoke how she deflected his lightning in canon. I mean, yeah, she's making him horny and stupid, but there is seidr being used (subconsciously).
I forgot to mention before that Nami's stave is her post-Arlong tattoo. The sowilo rune is the vertical stem, the eihwaz rune (flipped to its side) is the horizontal stem. Obviously it lacks the orange, and it's technically not a pinwheel since those don't exist yet, but I tried to give it a similar function and backstory in the previous chapter (connecting it to Genzo). An interesting note on her tattoo, though—while I use runic staves and knotwork as the time period inspiration for her design, Nami and Nojiko's tattoos actually have a similar (albeit very simplistic) flow to a rural Norse folk art style called rosemaling (it is used in Sweden, but is especially popular in Norway). Rosemaling came to exist in the 1700s (centuries after this fic takes place, of course), but it uses S and C strokes for these beautiful, flowing floral designs, very much in a similar shape to Nami and Nojiko's tattoos. I've even found one where the flows make a heart shape very similar to Nojiko's. Now, did Oda use Nordic art styles for inspiration - I don't know, but we do know he took a lot of inspiration from Viking age mythology for the giants and claims they're his favorite pirates, so it is possible he came across rosemaling in his research and kept the art style in his head for Nami and Nojiko.
Last note on Nami's poem for Kid - I tried to use kennings, it was hard. Serpant's lair and Freyja's tears are both kennings for gold. Gullveig (Gold-greed) was the name the Aesir gods gave to a Vanir witch (presumably Freyja) who visited them often, who had invoked a great deal of greed and conflict within their tribe because they sought her power. In an attempt to rid their tribe of this problem, they impaled her on spears and burned her on a pyre three times, but each time she rose from the ashes. Her treatment then spurred the Aesir-Vanir war which ended in a stalemate with each side giving hostages to the other.
Basically, Nami is saying she's enduring Freyja's ordeal (an ordeal of gold)—surrounded by the gold she lusts for, the feelings in her heart are tested while she's separated from Kid as Freyja was separated from her husband.
We'll see if I can keep up this writing pace. Next chapter has more gore and violence, of course.