"That can't be… no, I refuse," Shanks stammered, taken aback by the words. The whole impact of Shakky's words hit him when he realized what it meant. If he was the only one who could open the necklace, the possibility was high he would never be able open it at all. If he was too weak, he would be trying it again and again without any results. No, this was something he refused to believe. He couldn't face telling Benn he was stuck in his life as a slave forever.
Shanks knew it wouldn't matter how often he told Benn he was free. The only way the man would truly believe it, was when Shanks opened the necklace, and he had sworn to himself he would find a way to make that happen. He didn't even know why, but he never wanted to see those eyes tear up again.
The guilt and the anger came back, building up in him. His body was shaking and he didn't realize he was spilling his coffee. He also didn't see the alarming glances Shakky and Ray were throwing at each other when the air around him became thicker and filled with unspoken words. His usually bright eyes changed, getting cold and darker, as his thoughts swirled in his head, he himself unable to control his feelings. He wasn't aware of any of it.
"Shanks!" Ray shouted, but it didn't reach the man's ear. "Shanks!" Again, nothing happened. "SHANKS!"
This time Ray's shout was filled with magic, and it thundered through the room, the volume increased drastically. The mug in Shanks' hand slipped and fell to the floor, hot coffee spilling over most of his legs, his wide eyes suddenly full of fear. It wasn't Ray's shout but the use of magic that had startled Shanks out of his vortex of feelings. When he looked in the terrified faces of whom he considered two of the most important people in his life, he realized what had happened and bit his lower lip, a poor attempt not to cry.
The lack of words made it even harder for Shanks, his whole self just an inch away from breaking and crumbling. He was glad when Shakky found her composure again, picked up most pieces of the broken mug and mumbled some words to dry the trousers Shanks was wearing. The magic worked immediately, though it didn't help the brownish stain. Good thing he had packed another pair.
"I'm sorry," Shanks mumbled eventually and Ray sighed, running a hand through his hair in a familiar gesture. His gaze was piercing but not without worry, and it made Shanks feel like fifteen again. It wasn't a time he liked to remember, with too much pain and hurt, too much loss and too little stability in his life. He let his lids shut close, trying to push the cutting memories aside. It only worked partially and instead of feeling his magic twirl, the guilt was back and before his inner eye a face, cold and indifferent but beautiful as marble, stared at him. Automatically his hands wandered to his hair and pulled at it. Benn wasn't like that. Shanks had to believe that one day he would see him smile at him genuinely, but how when he was too weak to open that necklace?
Before he could fall back into that circle of fear, pain and guilt again, strong hands settled over his and pulled them away. When he looked up, his eyes met with Ray's who was forcing him to stop ripping his hair out. Shanks gave in to that power, but not because he wanted to, but because he knew there was no other way.
The tension didn't vanish completely, but Shanks forced himself to regain his composure at least so much that it fooled Shakky and Rayleigh into believing he was calm again. He knew he wasn't, he knew he could break any minute, but a small voice in his head whispered that he didn't have the right anymore. Because he was a Yonko, he had to be strong and finally act like an adult. The excuse of being an unstable teenager wasn't working anymore, even though sometimes he wished it would. What differed him from his fifteen year old self?
"Shanks, talk to us," Shakky said, breaking the silence while her eyes darted over him. She was looking for evidence that her bar was safe again and Shanks gave her no sign to think differently, though still, nothing was safe.
"I'm talking," he answered lowly and Ray sighed, making an attempt to stand up, but was pushed back onto the couch by his wife. Instead, Shakky stood up and walked straight to the kitchen. It seemed the time for coffee was over and the time for strong alcohol had just begun. Not that Shanks minded, he felt like he needed it.
"Then please tell me what's on your mind." Ray's words intended to be sharp, but they only sounded exhausted. That was the sole reason Shanks wasn't exploding again. He wouldn't have coped well with a scolding now.
"I can't open that necklace. No one else can. I told him he's free but he isn't… he never will be." No words about the tears, no words about the blood that had seeped down Benn's throat. Not one single syllable about the guilt and the fear and the shame Shanks was feeling. Because he was an adult and therefore had to deal with it himself.
"That is not true. Damn the goddesses Shanks, there is no way this necklace will stay closed forever. You are one of the strongest persons alive, there is no way this -" Ray struggled for words, but was cut off by dry laughter.
"I'm not. You keep telling me that, because Roger told you so, but I'm not. I was barely fifteen. How should he have known? I can't open a simple necklace. You picked the wrong person to rule this country." The words were as dry and numb as the laughter had been, and just the moment Shakky returned with three glasses and a bottle of whiskey, Shanks stood up. He picked the ring out of Ray's hand, slipped it over his finger, grabbed the bottle of alcohol off the tray and reached for his bag. "I'm gonna sleep," he announced, before he was off, vanishing into his old room he knew Shakky had gotten ready for him.
Ray fell back onto the couch. He had gotten up when Shanks had moved to snatch the ring out of his hand, feeling shocked and angry, but mostly overwhelmed. To focus was nearly impossible and it was only when he heard glasses clink and sensed a warm presence next to him that he looked up. Shakky's expressions mirrored his own, though she was also concerned about him. The dull shadow in her hazel eyes revealed it.
"I'm afraid, Shak … I'm honestly afraid," Ray whispered, all his energy gone. His hands were shaking, and he regretfully thought of the whisky Shanks had taken with him. He needed something strong to drink, to calm his nerves. Still he eased visibly when Shakky reached for his hand and entangled their fingers with each other.
"I know," she answered him, looking at the spot where Shanks had just sat and that was now empty. The spilled coffee still glimmered on the floor, a reminder of what had happed, but also what could have happened but luckily didn't. "I know… he just left too early."
The last time Ray had cried over Roger's loss had been years ago, but now silent tears streaked over his face and he made no attempt to stop it. He had selfishly thought Shanks would manage as time passed. He had always believed it, clung to the hope and convinced himself that with age, the pain would fade. But somehow Rayleigh had also always known it had been a lie and today reality had caught up with him.
For the first few months, probably the first year, Ray had focused solely on his own pain. With Roger's death, the people had lost their high king, but not Ray - first and foremost he had lost his best friend, murdered by the government in front of thousands of people. Ray hadn't been there, he hadn't been able to bring himself to watch.
The world had been in turmoil after that incident. The small bits of structure Roger had been able to give his people were crushed in an instant. Once cheered at for being brave and an adventurer, now the civilians thought of their former high king as a criminal. Ray knew better, he knew that most of what had been told to the people was fake. A big charade, to keep the peace. A very fragile peace that crumbled more and more.
The known land wasn't reigned by blood. Neither the former high king, nor the Yonkos had been crowned because of any birthright. The folk didn't believe in something as succession by blood, the only thing they believed in was power. Roger had been powerful, he had been able to wield magic in dimensions Ray hadn't ever fully been able to grasp. Shanks, Whitebeard, Kaidou and Big Mom – the four Yonko - were supposed to be equal in their power, but for different reasons it wasn't true. It was just that some of them were more bloodthirsty and more interested in power than the other. Still, Rayleigh was sure no one reached Roger. Maybe Whitebeard… maybe Shanks, one day. It was impossible to say for certain.
When Roger had been High King, the Government hadn't been able to keep the man in check. They had tried, afraid of his power and the knowledge he had gleaned over his many travels on which Ray had accompanied him. In the end, they had denounced and executed him. For the use of black magic, a magic that was forbidden by a law that prevailed higher than anything else. The world believed in Roger's turpitude and only the fewest looked closer when everything seemed so obvious.
Very few people knew of the connection between Shanks and Roger. It hadn't been a secret, but they also hadn't made it utterly public that Roger had adopted Shanks. It was mostly not an issue, since at that time Shanks had only been eight, and Roger hadn't been High King yet. They had been mere travelers, seafarer, adventurers, who went out to seek truth. But time had changed their situations, people had started to call Roger a king, and later High King. Under him there had been peace, unity, maybe just because no one ever dared to attack him, or accomplished his downfall. But when he had died... many things had fallen apart.
Shanks had only been fifteen when the execution had taken place, but Roger had deemed him strong enough to carry on his legacy. Rayleigh would never forget this one talk in which Roger had told him to watch the boy, so they wouldn't lose another one they held dear. He knew what Roger had wanted to tell him with it. He knew it, but now, now he realized that maybe he had broken his promise. Because he had been too focused on his own pain. Because it hadn't just been his best friend, or the high king who had died. Shanks had lost Roger, the man who was like a father to him, too. His friend would have known what to do. Roger would have been able to show Shanks how to control and wield his power. He would also have been able to convince him to see what he really was worth and could do. But Roger was dead, and for the first time, the tears Ray cried were solely for the loss Shanks had endured, and not for his own, because only now he had realized that Shanks had probably lost even more than he had.
With soundless steps Shakky walked down the stairs, slipping back into the main room of the bar. Normally she was an energetic person, but today all her energy had been spent just for the talk with Shanks. The half empty bottle of whiskey in her hand was the proof that he endured more than he would ever admit to. Shanks was in some way like her son, and it wasn't easy to watch him being so hopeless and angry.
When she closed the door behind her, Rayleigh looked up, the question visible in his eyes. He hadn't really moved since she had walked up to check on the boy. Oh yes, he may be an adult now, but for Shakky he would always be a boy.
"Is he asleep?" Ray asked her with a weary voice, and the woman nodded, holding up the bottle. The alcohol had probably knocked the redhead out. Scarier was the amount that had been necessary to fulfill the task. A normal person shouldn't be able to drink half a bottle of whiskey in one go…
It wasn't long anymore until she had to open the bar. Maybe an hour or one and a half. Hopefully they wouldn't have much to deal with today. She knew that even with Ray to help her, they both were currently at their limit, and the constant worry for Shanks carved at her. For a moment, she closed her eyes, then she walked up to Ray and sat down in the chair Shanks had sat in before the whole situation had escalated.
She could see Rayleigh running a hand over his face, before his eyes locked with hers. It was just like that, that he knew what was going on with her and maybe, maybe he knew what was on her mind. One question haunted her, and she bit her lips.
"Spill it, Shakky. I won't judge you," he said with a tired sigh. It wasn't the time for pointless discussions or wasted energy on forcing someone to speak, so she went with it, and just asked.
"Is he really as strong as you said?"
It seemed Ray had seen the question coming, because he didn't even blink. Instead, he forced himself to smile, but his lips barely turned upward. It was answer enough for Shakky, and she knew all the things he would explain to her now were about the details.
"Yes he is. I wouldn't call him the strongest yet, considering there are people out there like Whitebeard, like the other Yonko, but yes, he is strong. Stronger than he thinks he is and definitely one of the most powerful people alive," Rayleigh told her and then looked down at his open hands. It felt like he hadn't spoken the truth entirely. There had been something in his tone that told the woman it wasn't all. One little detail he hadn't told her yet… yet?
Her eyes grew big, and she had to force herself to not spring into a standing position, grab Rayleigh's shoulders and shake him. Her body shook heavily at the thought that had just struck her mind. That couldn't be. It just had to be a mistake. But a quiet inner voice told her it wasn't.
"What do you mean, not yet? Ray, he is twenty-three. He must have come off age by now. Tell me he has," she nearly shouted, and didn't realized she pierced the arm rest with her fingernails.
The sad and weary look of her husband, the apologetic smile, the slight shivering of his lips. He didn't need to answer. He didn't need to say it out loud. Her body fell against the back of the chair, her eyes darting upwards to the ceiling, to where Shanks was sleeping. With shivering hands she massaged her temples, and yet it was hard to process the news. Shanks wasn't just one of the strongest people alive, no, his magic was also still growing, twirling in him, and the older he got the less he would be able to control it, until he would finally come off age and reach his prime. Only after the magical growth had come to an end, they could be sure of Shanks being able to control his power. But until then… until then a lot could happen.
"We're nearly done," Roo said with a smile on his lips and Benn looked up, his hand darting to this one strand of his black hair that had escaped his ponytail He pushed it out of his face, but it fell just back in place. After a while of working with his hair open, which had been annoying as hell, one of the girls, she was around fourteen, fifteen, had offered him a hairband. He had taken it gladly, and Roo had told him Laki, the girl, always helped with setting up the breakfast before she went to school. She was a friendly though energetic person, and Benn couldn't come around to like her.
"Good to know," he answered the chef, a tiny grin on his lips, as he dried his hands on one of the many towels they had used to dry the last bits of water off the crockery. They had used a drying spell, though some last parts of drops still stayed, which was only normal when Benn considered the amount of plates, cutlery and pans, bowls and what not all they had used. It was only breakfast, for shouting out loud. He was glad Roo had help for lunch and dinner. Feeding around a hundred people wasn't easy work.
"I have..." Roo checked the clock on the wall inside the kitchen, "...two hours of free-time, before I have to head back and start preparing lunch. You wanna have a quick tour through the palace? I can show you around."
Benn's eyes darted through the kitchen, over the freezing box which cooled down perishables thanks to a cooling spell that worked only inside the wooden box. There were a few last dishes they had to dry and put away, and they probably needed to clean the counters again, but there wasn't much left to do. It seemed Roo caught his thoughts as he grinned and held out a hand. With a smile Benn gave him the towel he still held, and nodded. It seemed Roo intended to clean the rest later on. "Sure, a tour would be nice."
They walked out of the kitchen, back into the hall. A few people still sat at the tables and chatted, but it was relatively empty considering the buzzing it had been earlier. Breakfast was served for two hours, and in these two hours people came and went, getting whatever they liked to eat, before starting their work. Roo had just chatted away the whole morning, so by now Benn had a good idea of how things worked in this castle.
It seemed like most of the workers were former slaves who had been freed by Shanks and then had decided to stay. They did what suited their skills, from cleaning and doing the laundry for almost all of the court to administration task. There wasn't anything that didn't exist in this castle, even farmers lived here, working on nearby fields, providing the court with a decent amount of food.
When Roo had pointed out the people were free to go or stay, Benn had suppressed the urge to reach for the necklace under the scarf. He was sure the chef was telling the truth, after all he had been in the hall when the necklaces had dropped. But he was also sure he was the one exception that confirmed the rule. There had been a strange side-glance from Roo, who had easily changed the topic, but the lingering feeling of unspoken words had stayed for a while until it got too busy in the kitchen to think of anything other than frying bacon and saving the scrambled eggs from burning.
It was a strange feeling to face the man without the safety of the kitchen. In there, Benn had been able to shut off his thoughts. He was a pleasure slave, but that didn't mean he had never done other tasks before. Working was safe ground for him. Roo treated him nice enough and he hadn't felt out of place. Being back in the hall now changed it, and suddenly Benn wasn't so sure anymore if it had been a good idea to accept the invitation of a tour. His brain told him that he still was a slave, no matter what, and things like private tours through the house weren't what he usually received.
"So where do you wanna start?" Roo asked him with a smile, walking past him to head for the door. The chef probably assumed Benn would follow, but he didn't move. What should he answer anyway? What was he supposed to see and what not? Where there places he wasn't allowed to go to? There were always places he wasn't allowed in. He didn't want to get Roo into trouble for showing him around without permission of his… his friend? Higher-up? Superior? What was Shanks to Roo and the rest of the people who lived here, when Roo had stated so well he was just a cook.
When the chef realized Benn wasn't following him, he turned and looked at the man critically. To avoid the questioning look, Benn just gazed at the floor, biting his lips. He was torn between believing in the friendliness that he had received throughout the day, and the cold metal around his neck that was a constant reminder of who he was. Even though he had no idea what Shanks was for the others, it was unmistakably that for Benn, he was his master and the man who owned him. It would always be like that as long as the necklace stayed locked around his throat.
"I better should go back," he mumbled, wondering how his daily routine would look like from now on. He couldn't be sure, as Shanks was not here to give him any orders. He doubted he would be lucky enough to run the meals with Roo in the kitchen. That would be… nice. But it usually wasn't what he was bought for. Until he knew, though, he considered it the safest to not draw attention. Or get people who were friendly to him into trouble. By now he could feel the gazes of the few men who were still in the dining hall oh him. They weren't even speaking anymore, and it was too quiet for Benn's liking.
"No, you shouldn't. There is no need for you to be sitting in the kitchen all alone," Roo told him, sounding friendly and firm at the same time. He didn't seem to notice the stares. Or maybe he just didn't care. However it was, he had his own way to be encouraging and when he reminded Benn that Shanks wouldn't be back before tomorrow and therefore he could perfectly well join him while walking around, Benn gave in. The chef was right, and it wouldn't hurt him to know his way around.
"So, again, where do you wanna start?" Roo asked when Benn had finally moved and caught up with him. At the question though, Benn just shrugged - how should he know what there was to see? He never had been in the palace before. Or in any other palace this big, even though there had been some houses that came close. But before, he had usually been placed in one room to serve in whichever way his current master had demanded. Most of the time, it had been him being the present to please the favored person of his owner. The room hadn't always contained a bed, though, and serving hadn't always been painless.
For a short moment, Benn's expression had gone numb and he hadn't realized the concerned frown that swept over Roo's face. But then he managed to push those haunting memories aside and concentrated on reality again. His mouth twitched in apology before he spoke. "What special places are there that I need to know?"
"How about the gardens, the gym, the baths and sanitary rooms… ah wait your room has an extra bathroom, so no need to know that, even though I should probably show you, just in case. Then there is the library, ..." Roo counted and stopped with a grin. Benn's face had visibly lit up with the word library, which hadn't gone past the other man. It seemed even he was easy to read, well at least sometimes. With a chuckle Roo opened the door that lead into a hall, and let Benn pass him. "We'll start with the library, I'd say."
The library was huge. Benn had no other word to describe it as his eyes widened in awe. There were hundreds of books, all neatly placed in wooden shelves, standing next to each other, whispering with those tempting voices, telling him to reach for them, read them and learn. He turned in a circle, looking up and trying to get the size of the room, but it was near to impossible. Even he, as a very tall man, couldn't possibly reach to the highest shelf by himself. There was a glass dome covering the main entrance he was now standing in, next to Roo. The light shining through bathed the whole library in natural light, and Benn guessed it served to create a friendly and easy for the eye atmosphere. Working here would be a bliss.
There were also several tables, with cushioned chairs or actual couches, that invited to sit down and just drown in the different worlds a book could contain while reading. Benn always had loved escaping his actual life for a while by reading, but the time he had been granted to do so had been limited. His eyes darted to the edges and walls, but he couldn't tell how far the library reached, as it went on behind a corner he had no way to see around from his position.
"It was a good idea to come here first," Roo eventually spoke, after letting Benn take in the sight, and the man who seemingly had been lost in his thoughts forced himself to look up from the books and their secrets to his present company. Roo smiled softly, his hands in the pockets of his trousers, his body as relaxed as Benn knew his would never be. "I haven't seen you this much at ease until now. It suits you."
A pang of misery rushed through Benn at hearing those words, but he locked the yearning away. He knew Roo hadn't meant it to be some kind of scolding, but it reminded him that he wasn't in the place to start dreaming. Granting himself a last quick look to the hidden stories each of these books contained, Benn forced his mind back to reality. His far-away expression was replaced by a friendly but forced smile.
"Thank you," he said politely as always, but at the same time could see how the soft happiness fell from Roo's face. It was just minuscule before the smile was directed back at Benn, but now it was different. He could see the wish in the other man's eyes to not have said anything at all. It made Benn wonder again why the people here were so different from everyone he had ever had to interact with before.
An oppressive silence developed between them, both of them realizing that those few words had managed to shift the mood into something heavier than it had been before. What saved them from having the stillness become awkward though, was a relatively small man who was past his best years. For Benn, it was as if he appeared out of nowhere, but Roo seemed to know him because a sigh escaped the chef's lips and he seemed to relax again.
"Hello Professor," Roo greeted the older man and got back a nod. He didn't seem to notice Benn, at least not until he was being introduced. Then the old eyes swept over him, and somehow it made Benn shudder. The look wasn't piercing in the way many people watched him, people who regarded his body as if it was a product they could consume. Instead there was recognition in his gaze, even though it was nearly hidden behind years of life-experience. And there was astonishment, too. For a short moment Benn wanted to disappear, to get away from eyes that seemed to know too much, but then he gathered his wits again while Roo said, "May I introduce to you, this is Benn. He arrived here yesterday. Benn, this is Professor Clover, our librarian."
"Nice to meet you, Professor," Benn managed to say, his voice wavering under the strange feeling that spread through his veins. His words though seemed to pull the older man out of his thoughts and the knowing expression changed.
"Nice to meet you too, Benn...," he answered, his words trailing off, as if he wanted to hear a second name, to complete the sentence. But Benn only gave him a courteous nod. "Just Benn."
It was rare for a slave to have a second name, those who had been born into slavery never got one. They weren't deemed worthy to be gifted with such, as names hold power - a legacy slaves shouldn't carry. It was believed to be easier to handle them when making them think there was no place they came from and there would be none to go to. Benn had a second name, given to him by his parents before… before… he closed his eyes, breathing in and out, suppressing the tears that began to blur his sight. The memories would only tear him apart, so he locked them up in some deep, dark corner of his soul. All he needed to know was that once he had been someone. He treasured his name, as well as the smile of his father and the scent of his mother. No one needed to know his second name, so they couldn't use it against him.
"Did you want anything, Professor?" Roo asked, unaware of the surfacing sadness, and provided the last bit of distraction for Benn to face reality again. The memories were once again securely locked up. There was no need to give them room to hurt him.
"No, I mean, yes, but...," the professor said absentmindedly and then shook his head, before he ordered his thoughts and remembered what he actually wanted to say. "I heard Shanks went out. There are uproars in, ah I forgot the name again, however, I wanted to talk to him. I'm not sure but-"
"But you think it could be Nico Robin?", Roo finished his sentence, sounding concerned. The Professor only nodded, his eyes speaking of misery. Benn wondered who this Nico Robin was, but she must be someone pretty close to the old man, because beside the misery were also fear and concern visible on his face.
"He plans to be back by tomorrow. I'll tell him to see you when he comes down for breakfast… or lunch," Roo promised, and then he turned to Benn, who had just stood next to them, listening. "You can come here whenever you want and have time to. Feel free to borrow whatever books you like, just tell Professor Clover. He keeps track of them all."
"I'm here most of the time, but if I'm not, you will find lists on the counter of my desk, to add the title and author of the book you borrowed," Professor Clover added to Roo's explanation and eyed Benn again, before he shook his head in negation, as if he wanted to tell himself it couldn't be. "It was nice meeting you, Benn," he finished, and again Benn had the strange feeling the other one wanted to add a second name, even though he couldn't know he actually had one.