Title- Patience
Author- kawaiichiisaikitsune (pirate-kiari)
Rating- T
Pairings- LuffyxNami, NojikoxOC (may be more later on)
Summary- 'Balls weren't really what everyone said them to be. At least, to this young girl they weren't.' A story about a royal family, a farmer boy, a series of balls/dances, and everything in between. AU, LuNa

Kiari-san knows that Ace is probably a tons stronger than Luffy, even without their devil fruit powers, and could easily kick Arlong's ass anytime. But for the sake of this story, the younger D brother is ganna be way stronger. Just this once. XDD

Disclaimer- No own. Sad, huh?

Patience

-Chapter Fifteen: Lead Up-

The opponents stared each other down with eyes of hatred and disinterest. In a sudden whirl of movement, the battled began.

Niwa blocked a well aimed punch directed at his nose, the flat of his sword merely inches from his face and shaking with struggle of dominance against the strong fist pressed against it. In a powerful burst of strength, he threw the balled hand away from him and made a stroke at his opposer's side. The sword did not connect.

The pasty skinned follower regained his balance from being pushed and jumping to dodge the swinging blade. He spread his planted feet at least a yard apart and bent his knees to the point where it looked as though he was trying to sit in an invisible chair. His hands took to fists and were held close to his body and up to his head, the backs of his hands facing the other. He breathed out loudly from large pink lips and glared from slanted eyes. "Bring it, King," he hissed in taunting.

The swordsman growled to the bait, launching himself haphazardly with his weapon held dangerously above his head in a prepared strike. "Take this!" he roared, bringing down the sharp, steel blade down upon the man's open shoulder. The perfect strike came with a consequence, however, as he was hit squarely in the face by a hard fist. He stumbled backwards.

With a shaking pant he wiped the back of his hand under his nose, smudging the trail of blood off his face. His nose twitched with red hot pain before going silent and numb, still glowing a fiery pink from the contact. Meanwhile, his opponent gripped at his cut shoulder with a slight snarl. Red stained his hand from the touch and he wiped away the blood upon his slacks. Eventually the pain dulled in his own head.

"It's rare that I meet a worthy opponent," Chuu hummed in bland appraisal, "But this will all be over soon enough." He took up his previous stance once again.

"Indeed," Niwa scoffed, taking his own stance. He stood forward, feet spread wide and apart with his toes pointing forward. His arms were stiffly straight, both hands gripping the hilt of the sword tightly as he waited for the other to make the first move.

The two seemed to stare each other down for what seemed like hours. The tension that built between them was intense and even murderous in one case. Anger glinted in their eyes, watch the other keenly for the slightest sign of movement. Both, however, seemed very much like stone statues one would find in a large public garden.

The member of Arlong's inner circle was the one to make the first move. He charged with a loud battle cry, swift and dangerous. The king ran at him as well, letting loose one of his own ferocious yells.

Strikes were blown and hits were blocked. The opponents fought in a whir of fast movement; just slightly too fast for the naked eye to catch everything. Chuu ducked and swerved out of the steel blade's way, getting nicked and cut anyways. Blood trickled down his skin and oozed from deeper gashes, slowing him down considerably. That didn't make his fists any less powerful than before, bruising the sweaty skin they came in contact with.

Niwa panted heavily, loosing strength and stamina. He leaned against his blood-stained sword to regain his stumbling balance, before lifting it back to eye level and preparing to slash a, hopefully, finishing blow. Pulling his weapon over his head, he swung down toward his adversary in a tired stroke. Catching the equally exhausted follower by surprise, the blade hit, slicing down his face in a diagonal cut over his left eye.

The man stumbled backwards with a blood curdling cry, writhing in immense pain. His face bled uncontrollably and in his inability to see and think straight the other dragged the tip of his sword against the marble floors and upwards in a clean slash to the open chest. The man cried yet again, before falling back, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he went unconscious.

The king breathed heavily, tottering on his unbalanced feet. Eventually he too fell, forward, unconscious.

II

"You wouldn't happen to have a match on you, by chance?" Sanji grumbled around the unlit cigarette still clenched between his teeth as he blocked a kick with one of his own. He stuffed his hands back in his pant pockets as they both withdrew their legs.

"Sorry, boy. I do not," Kuroobi replied, performing a spinning round-house to the head which was blocked by a stretched up leg. He brought his leg back down just to start up another move that would be blocked in the end.

"Shit," the chef groaned, kicking up his right foot in defense before bringing it back down upon the base of the man's large neck. He pivoted on his other foot, hooking his other shoe on the neck and jerking him down to the floor. Just as he was going to draw back his leg, two strong hands wrapped tightly around his calf and held him in place until he was yanked of his balance and thrown onto the hard marble. He muttered a pained curse as he scrambled back to his feet.

The hefty man left him no break as he charged with a flurry of simple kicks and punches. The other managed to defend himself against the onslaught of attacks, using only his legs. A chef used his hands only to cook; they did not soil them with battle. Thus he was hit, the most noticeable being the start of a purple bruise on his chin.

The blond spun on the bawl of his foot, dragging his outstretched leg with him and connecting with his opponent's stomach. He didn't wait for the expected reaction, jumping with yet another spinning kick, catching him in the stomach yet again and then the temple. This sent him tumbling back in a breathless shock.

The fight continued on in a similar fashion; a kick, a kick, a block, a punch, a hit, a triple kick, a kick. There seemed to be little to no diversity left in their attack patterns, but both were becoming exhausted from the constant movement and usage of strength. Both sides of the battle panted from exhaustion, cuts and purple and brown bruises littered about the visible skin of the men. Their will to win for their "team," however, was strong and unbreakable. Thus they continued their struggle for dominance of the situation.

Sanji danced a dance of spinning and flipping, catching his adversary in various places, such as the chin and abdomen, with his feet and the amazing power and speed of his momentum. He dodged punches here and there, blocking kicks with his own and returning the strike doubled. His nose bled from an unfortunate blow and his chin swelled with pain at the purple and green bruise marking a beautifully performed kick. He wasn't the only one scathed, though.

The hefty left-hand man of Arlong, Kuroobi, was wonderfully beaten himself. His right eye was swollen from a tough kick and his face looked positively red with pain. His heart beat thumped madly in his ears, masking clear sounds behind a constant drum. He was on the verge of consciousness and couldn't say well for himself, swimming in and out of the looming darkness in the corner of his eyes.

The chef took it upon himself and his chivalrous ways to put an end to the man's misery. With a sloppy crescent kick to his head, he sent him tumbling unconscious. Standing with breathless pants, he looked down at the man at his feet and snarled.

"Damn cigarette," he ground out angrily, throwing his bent, unlit cigarette to the floor and grinding it with the toe of his shoe.

III

Hatchan snapped his nose back into place without so much as a wince, earning a nefarious grin from his opponent. "I like you already," Ace mused aloud, "This might actually be fun."

"Of course," the sunburned man agreed, wiping the blood from his lip and giving an equally wicked smirk. With a roaring battle cry, he ran at his opponent.

The farmer took a offensive pose as the other charged, feet spread wide and hands bared like claws toward him. Balancing easily on his left foot, he brought his other up in a sudden kick to the abdomen and surprising him when he twisted and balled his hand in a fist and struck under his chin with an uppercut. He left no time for the other to breathe, using the same arm to elbow him in the neck and back fist his temple. In return, he was quickly swept off his feet to give the other time.

Arlong's right-hand man picked up a clean sword from one of his fellow members lying unconscious as his opposer picked himself back to his feet. He held the sharp weapon out in front of him in a menacing sort of way that seemed to have absolutely no affect upon the other. Instead, he brushed the slight dust off his dark slacks without a care and resettled his reddish-brown cowboy hat back upon his head.

The battle between the two resumed in a loud whirl of movement; punches, kicks, sweeps, slashes, uppercuts, stomps, knees, pounds, claws, backhands and much more. Both Ace and Hatchan were bruised and bleeding with injuries. The sword was tainted with blood much like the fists of the freckled man and dulling from extensive use. Strength in them was quickly depleting.

Luffy's older brother panted as he struck another offensive stance, ready to continue. His knuckles were nearly white from clenching his fists so tightly and his lips turned up in a snarl. Blood gushed down his bare chest from the deep wound under his collarbone and bruises dotted his arms and legs. His slacks were ripped and torn and his hat hung around his neck from a cord, both stained with blood.

The sunburned man panted himself; heavy and shaking. He gripped the hilt of the steel blade with both hands, staring down his adversary with angry eyes and a will to quickly end the fight. His body looked to be one big bruise on its own by the large purple and green ones that covered nearly every inch of his exposed flesh. Many of his ribs had been cracked and his nose was once again dislocated, along with his shoulder, he suspected.

Ace sounded a fierce battle cry, running at his opponent with his own will of finally finishing things. His breath and condition was forgotten as rammed the man with his sweaty shoulder in the gut. When the other doubled over, he was kneed in the throat and then pounded over the head by interlaced fists.

The sword clattered noisily to the marble floor, followed by a resounding thump of a heavy body. Hatchan was unconscious and the farmer staggered upon his feet victorious. He panted heavily, standing up straight as he rubbed a hand over the deep cut on his chest, smearing blood on his sweaty palm. This whole ordeal was not even close to being over though.

IV

The basement was mainly an unused part of the castle. If it were to be of any significance at all, it'd be that it was fine storage room and nothing more. It was littered with worn, undated furniture, chests of various junk, bookshelves of novels with yellowed pages, and more. Dust caked every surface it possibly could and cobwebs decorated the corners of the grey stoned walls. Rats scurried back and forth along the stone floor, uncaring and unperturbed by the new intruders.

"Nojiko, do you have something to light these torches with?" the princess asked as she came across the aforementioned object as she used the wall to maneuver herself in the darkness.

"Nothing on me," she replied, "I can go back into the hall and find something though." The woman didn't wait for a reply as she climbed back up the stairs, every wooden step groaning under the weight. "I'll be right back."

Nami waited against the wall, looking around the damp and shadow consumed room with worry. There was indeed a nice hole in the ceiling some yards off from her, she noted, yet even so, barely any light was filtering through it. Worried brown eyes gazed through the undisturbed shadow to stare at what must've been underneath the hole of slight light. "Luffy, I'm coming. Please be okay," she whispered to the unseen body.

Soon the blue-haired queen returned with a burning torch in her hand. She shuffled quickly to her little sister with a small smile; "Hand me the other torch."

The siblings maneuvered around the various items littering the dust-covered ground and to the mess of splintered floorboards and broken marble. Among the exceptional mess, as expected, was an unconscious body. The orange-haired artist sighed with relief, kneeling beside the battered body. "Luffy," she muttered to herself as she brushed a couple ebony locks from his grimy face. She turned back to her sister, "Help me move him. Arlong could see us all from the hole if he wanted to."

Nojiko nodded and soon enough the two of them had the unfortunate farmer leaning up against a cold wall. He looked peaceful and tranquil despite the situation about him. His tanned skin was layered with sweat, dirt, and grime, but for the most part he looked very unharmed and well in health. Both females were relieved.

"Luffy, wake up," Nami nudged the scarred boy, having passed her torch to her sister, "Please, Luffy. Wake up. Please, wake up."

After some minutes of trying to shake the boy awake, he finally started to stir. Slowly his brows furrowed and his closed eyes squinted was though in pain. Eventually the expression lightened as if the pain had finally dulled and he blinked open his charcoal eyes with a low groan. It was a while before the blurry vision he had faded and he could actual peer through the grey and orange shadow.

His fingers twitched to life and painstakingly slow he raised his left hand to touch the straw hat displayed on another's head. "Nami?" he hummed lowly in question, blinking away the stubborn blur at the corners of his eyes.

Nami, sitting on her knees, bit her lip and nodded, trying to will away the tears that brimmed her eyes at her relief. "Yes," she whispered, barely audible, "It's me."

V

Arlong stood from the throne with a slight growl. His best men were down for the count and he was left to take care of the rest. Admittedly, the two were already beat and didn't look like much of a threat, but just the thought of having to finish something his followers should have been able to do was an annoyance. Thus, he growled, irate.

Sanji walked over to the panting farmer, hands stuffed deep into his pant pockets. "The job's not done," he said, his own breath slightly labored, "How long can you hold up."

"Two minutes at most," Ace replied. The chef smirked.

"That should be just enough time," he muttered, facing their new opponent. A while ago he'd noticed from the corner of his eye that the princess and queen had disappeared from the crowd of watchers. He had a pretty good guess where they'd disappeared to. His only hope was that he was right.

-TBC-

--Review Replies--

-Chapter Fourteen-

T.O.B., thanks for your review! Yes, very tense indeed.

lunalove101, thanks for your review! Of course Luffy's okay. Who could doubt? XD

catho, thanks for your review! As you should be. Hope you enjoyed!

kage karasu, thanks for your review! Aw, you flatter Kiari-san. XD

Iwin Ulose, thanks for your review! She does her best. And the battle has just begun.

Alastair, thanks for your review! You flatter so well. She's glad you like and now very proud of her fight scenes. They're so fun to write, but oh so hard at the same time.

Nuit Fleur, thanks for your review! Thank you so much. Kiari-san is pleased you are enjoying. And similes she thinks she can do for ya. Oh, she does hope to write a novel sometime in her life. It'd be fun, she's sure of it. :D Don't worry about the length, lengthy reviews are just as fun!