A/N: Hope we don't mind this cut back and forth between the Straw Hats and the Iliads. I've kind of been really enjoying this opportunity to show more of Cygnus' character as I develop the plot further. Actually, I've been finding inspiration for a Cygnus' backstory lately, and have been considering writing a prequel about him and Leda. If I did, would you come and read it? Not sure how long it would be, but I'd want to cover the span of when they met to Cygnus wearing the Mask of Zeus, something I have been rightly criticized for not including in some kind of flashback so we could see it/understand it better.

Thanks to all who continue to comment. I thought I might be on the road to a steady update schedule again, but alas. Life keeps happening. I appreciate that you're still on this journey with me.

Waterlily, you've got to get a profile so I can directly respond to your messages. A few of your ideas for Straw Hat jobs had me positively rolling! Your reviews continue to be top tier. Thank you.

Ch. 45 - Battered Feet

In the branch of a giant tree, in an ocean in the New World, the great Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro sat beside his still unconscious wife, massaging her feet.

Chopper had nebulized her with the antidote, then advised him that waking from a near month-long coma took time. Ramzez had been out searching the unnaturally long Calm, but others working within the medical branch confirmed Chopper's assessment that, given how long she had been knocked out by the Juliet Flower, it could take a few days. At least she was no longer on oxygen.

Zoro had learned on their belated honeymoon that Helena's feet often troubled her after a long day of training or a decent fight. Particularly the ball of the foot and sometimes the arch. Not that she had done any training or fighting recently, but maybe the sensation would help her wake.

The door to the infirmary opened, revealing Sanji and the girls, who had taken Kuina out for a bit.

"The he…ck are you doing, Marimo?" Sanji asked, stifling the swear in front of Kuina. "Trying to tickle her awake?"

Zoro didn't laugh. "Even if I were, her feet are pretty dead to light touch. She's not ticklish."

"A massage though? You don't seem like the type to massage your wife's feet."

"Her feet are her weapons, Dartboard," Zoro shot back, "Why wouldn't I respect them? Where have you guys been, anyway?"

"Mani-pedis," Nami informed him brightly.

"Manly what now…?"

Kuina ran up to him, flicking her chubby toddler hands at him like she was flicking water off of them. It took him a moment to realize, because she kept repeating the gesture without holding still, that her tiny nails had green polish on them.

"Oh, you got your nails done. Nice, kid," Zoro smiled at her. He couldn't help it. She seemed so delighted.

"We all did," Robin chuckled at Kuina's enthusiasm.

"What, you too, Love Cook?" Zoro chuffed, looking at Sanji. Zoro didn't detect any new colors on the man's fingernails, but they did bear a light sheen. Did nail polish come in clear?

The chef didn't have the decency to look embarrassed. He just smiled and shrugged, "A cook's hands are sacred. Its good to treat them now and then, especially with lovely ladies for nail technicians," he put forth. "And if you respect Helena's feet as weapons, you should know, a little polish on the toe-nails keeps them from splitting."

"I've never seen her wear nail polish," Zoro ventured.

"Nah, she does," Nami informed him. "She uses clear…"

So it did come in clear.

"Now move aside, we wanted to include her."

Zoro let Nami and Robin take his place. They revealed a small shopping bag containing nail clippers, a file and polish, and set to work painting the unconscious woman's toenails a garish, glittery gold. Robin's power for multitasking made it a fairly quick process.

The polish looked out of place against Helena's worn, knobby feet. He was sure even she would agree. "Why you bothering to make them sparkly when her toes are so ugly?" Zoro ventured to ask.

All stopped dead to look at him.

"Excuse me?" Nami spluttered.

"Did you just…?" Robin gasped.

"...CALL A PART OF YOUR WIFE'S BODY UGLY?!" Sanji finished.

He jumped into a kicking stance, Zoro prepared to draw his swords, but it was Nami who pegged him in the side of the head, punching him into the ground.

"WEATHERED," Zoro rasped as he went down. "Her toes are weathered."

"I thought you said you respected her feet!" Sanji fumed.

"I do!" Zoro countered. "Precisely because they are the way they are!"

Theodora and her companions didn't know what to do with their newfound freedom at first. Cassowary and Lieutenant Andromache had made sure to settle them into a small, comfortable house of their own in Yuba. They'd provided the former slaves with a variety of necessities, including a new wardrobe to combat the extremes in temperature out on the desert.

For Theodora, donning the Alabastan robes felt like her first true taste of liberty. After decades of nothing but ballet attire, even to sleep in, she had forgotten what it felt like not to have elastic chaffing her leotard line. Walking about without tights was positively delicious.

Allowing her hair to fall free of a bun seemed sinful. The relaxers Rothbart had forced her to use all these years had made it fall limp and unappealing, and she immediately wrapped it back up in a bun upon her first attempt. It didn't look too great; she didn't know how to style it without the expensive products she'd been required to use to fit Rothbart's rigid aesthetic.

She ran into a bigger problem when she tried to walk for any length of time without her pointe shoes on. Rothbart had required they wear them all day, every day. Though he allowed for padding and other luxuries in the dance footwear – he wanted his toys to last after all – over two decades of wearing shoes not meant for walking left her with toes bent and gnarled, and an unhealthy amount of calluses and bunions on each toe knuckle. The foot itself was twisted, deformed, perhaps permanently, into the shape of a ballet pointe shoe.

Giselle struggled as well. She had spent three or so years in Rothbart's clutches. Perhaps the damage for her could yet be undone. – Marie, in some ways, had it worse than the two veteran slaves. Her feet hadn't formed to her shoes yet – were still swollen and cracked and bloody. She was in the beginning stages of this bizarre foot binding, and so was in the most pain on the daily, but at least she had more of a chance at regaining her ability to walk free of the footwear.

The three women discovered a great luxury in their new, Alabastan kitchen: a refrigerator with an ice machine. It wasn't long before they found themselves nursing their sore feet in bowls of ice. They winced and grimaced against the cold. No one said a word to the others. It had been a rather quiet household from the start, more noticeably now when it seemed like they should be talking. No one wanted to talk about the pain of the past or overwhelming fear of the future.

They had put on a tea kettle to boil, though not a single one of them planned to rise to pour herself a cup when it finally did. Unfortunately, a knock at their front door meant one of them would be unlucky enough to have to get up.

Used to taking care of the other girls, Theodora made to rise, but Giselle stopped her, acknowledging without a word that the older woman's foot pain exceeded her own.

Cassowary would soon be leaving along with many of the others to go search for the Sybil on Theodora's intel, but she had said she'd be by again. Andromache had also assured them that she would continue to check in on them from time to time while the revolutionaries were away. Either visitor would have been welcome to see them in their current untidy state.

It was to Theodora's horror that Giselle hobbled back into the room leading, not Andromache or Cassowary, but King Cygnus.

Theodora and Marie both jumped out of their bowls of ice and dipped into a ballet révérence, nearly slipping on the now wet tile floor on unstable feet. Of course they knew that Cygnus was not Rothbart, but as a male with an obvious air of authority, they couldn't help their immediate fear at him seeing them with their shoes off, out of costume, and in Marie and Giselle's case, hair undone.

"That is quite enough of that," he snapped in a tone that made the younger girls flinch though Theodora masked the jolt of fear. His voice softened; apparently he noticed how a rough male tone affected them. "I am not your master nor do I wish to be treated as such."

He gave a hand to Theodora, who stood nearest to him, and raised her from the ground. He had to help her balance as she bobbled on her wounded feet.

"Your Majesty…" she started, but then faltered as she tried to gain her footing and Cygnus had to steady her. "Forgive us our disorderly state…"

Cygnus wasn't listening. His keen, blue gaze had fallen onto Theodora's less than comely feet.

"Forgive me for giving you any reason to rise," he gasped, guiding Theodora back to her seat by the hand he still held. "That horrid man," he growled between his teeth. "Let me guess. He never allowed you to remove your dance shoes?"

They didn't respond, all three of them staring at him in shock. Gingerly Theodora went to put her feet back into the ice, then gave a start when the tea kettle whistled. The king's visit had her on edge.

"Come to think of it, for you and Ms. Giselle, heat may be of more use than ice," Cygnus pointed out. "They are past the point of swelling. If I may…?"

He bent toward the ice bowl at Theodora's feet and, when she didn't protest, he took it and emptied its contents in the kitchen sink. Soon he had done the same for Giselle.

Theodora noticed his own limp as he went about his tasks. Walking wasn't necessarily easy for himself either.

"It's a pity we don't have epsom salts," the man commented as he worked, "I know they worked wonders for Helena…"

After a moment he had emptied the kettle's boiling contents between the two bowls, refilling the kettle for tea before placing it back on the stove. He then diluted the scalding water in the bowls with water from the tap.

"Why are you here?" Marie blurted out.

Theodora shot her a look for her impertinence, instinctively trying to warn her not to speak out of turn. Not that she didn't want to ask the question herself.

"I hope you can forgive the intrusion," he said as he hobbled over to Giselle with the new, warm foot bath in tow. "I'm about to leave and I'm not sure when I'll get another chance to ask. I want to hear more about my daughter and granddaughter. You are the last people I know of to have seen them."

"You are going to Ilium, your Majesty?" Theodora asked in surprise. She knew Cassowary and the others had returned to Yuba only to restock and set out right away. She hadn't expected the clearly less than battle worthy king to go with them.

"Yes," Cygnus confirmed, limping his way back to the kitchen counter to retrieve Theodora's foot bath. "The place you described, and the person you described the Sybil staying with. – I know exactly where they are. I daresay I'm one of the few people who do."

He knelt to place the bowl on the floor before her and she gingerly placed her feet inside. After having her feet iced, it took a moment to ease them into the heat. However, soon she felt her muscles start to relax.

"Besides," he went on, "Time is of the essence. If I am with them when they find the Sybil, I can access her powers immediately. Perhaps rescue my Kingdom and put an end to my captured citizens' suffering."

He sighed, getting to his feet. "I don't find that likely, though. The God Powers are bought with a price, usually a steep one." He leaned back against the counter, waiting for the kettle to boil again. "That is why I asked the three of you not to share any of what this mission is about with the rest of my people. This may all come to naught, and I don't want to get their hopes up."

"We understand, Sire," Theodora murmured. "You are very brave."

The compliment wasn't insincere, but popped out of her out of habit. If she could detect anything remotely kind or flattering to say to her former master, she found it best to say it to keep his mood up.

Cygnus laughed. "You think so?" He said, grinning at her.

What a charming smile he had! – candid and sincere. Nothing like the sadistic grins that would spread over Rotherbart's tiny mouth. Was this man really a king? His humility was both off putting and endearing. It made it hard for Theodora to know how to act.

"I'm either being very brave or very foolish. Funny how those things often go hand in hand," he laughed again. "I've always been rubbish in a fight, and I may slow the others down with this blasted limp."

"I suppose we know how that feels," Marie put in, and Cygnus turned his grin on her before Theodora could shoot her another look for speaking out of turn.

"You ladies have been wonderfully brave, getting the intel to us that you have," he observed with sincerity. "Now, please, if you don't mind indulging me, could you tell me about my daughter? Did she really take ballet lessons at the Saobody Opera house?"

"I knew her as Yelene," Marie began. "Mr. Balanchine brought her on to teach us more about Ilium. You see, we were putting on a show about…about the fall of your kingdom, sir…"

The kettle whistled again, and Cygnus continued to busy himself as she went on to tell of "Yelene" and "Kina's" adventures, or misadventures, in Saobody. Soon he had served each of the ladies tea.

He couldn't possibly realize how surreal a gesture it was to them after their years of serving tea to Rothbart and his ilk, all while pirouetting and bourreeing about en pointe. He did it far less gracefully than they had been required to do, but Theodora doubted he could have done it for a more grateful audience.

She noted how his eyes lit up during the course of the conversation. Clearly he loved his daughter and granddaughter very much. His expression darkened as Marie went on to explain how she was sold to Rothbart by one Louis Balanchine, though. And even moreso when Giselle – with some coaxing to join the conversation – explained how Kuina had also been sold by the former dance master.

"We heard that Yelene destroyed the opera house in her rage," Marie finished. "When Yelene liberated her daughter, and the rest of us, Master Rotherbart hunted Mr. Balanchine down and enslaved him."

"Glad to hear he got his just desserts," Cygnus observed coldly.

"But the worse for us," Marie pointed out, looking to Giselle.

"Theodora has been our dance master and choreographer for years," Giselle murmured, her watery gaze on the floor. "Master Rothbart started letting Mr. Balanchine take over bit by bit."

"He wasn't as intent as Theodora on…preserving us," Marie went on. "She would move the injured ones to the back, or make moves simpler for those struggling or ill. – Give more rest to the weaker and feature the stronger. He, on the other hand, seemed intent on weeding out the weak…"

"Worse still," Giselle murmured, "We all believed Master Rothbart allowed him more and more control because he was planning on…retiring Theodora."

"By the way you say that word…" Cygnus started, face grim over his own cup of tea.

"Yes, he was likely planning on killing me," Theodora said flatly. "Some Dragons allow their concubines to return home when they tire of them, but not Master Rothbart. Anyway, I have no home to return to, thanks to him. – He never stated he would end me, but it was clear by his comments that he could see I am losing my beauty to the march of time. I was no longer of use to him."

Cygnus sighed. "If it's any consolation, madam, the man needs to get those bulbous eyes of his checked. Not that a brute like that could ever appreciate true beauty."

Theodora managed a soft smile at the flattery. "In any case, I am no longer as able bodied as I was, and my feet…"

She looked down at them in the water. Wearing pointe shoes made it easier to move, but even with them on she had been hobbling lately. Balanchine made sure Rothbart saw it.

"Well, I knew my days were numbered," she sighed. "It's a miracle I've lasted this long."

She looked up at Cygnus, who had made his way toward her with a dishtowel in his hand. He knelt down, his eyes on her feet.

"May I?" he asked, reaching toward the bowl.

Mortified, Theodora hesitated. Why would a man of his status want to be anywhere near her disgusting feet? – But she dare not refuse him either. Slowly she lifted one of her mangled, gnarled feet out of the water.

"There is an adage," Cygnus said, drying the foot off with the towel. "That in life, as in dance, grace glides on battered feet. You three have lived that more than your fair share."

He took Theodora's foot in his hands, and started to message it, not at random, but with firm, knowing hands.

"There were few things I could do for my daughter when she was younger, and I in far worse health than I am now," he explained to the three shocked women. "I learned how to massage her feet after she spent long hours training herself to hold swords with them."

Though the massage has been painful at first, Theodora felt some of the tension lessen against his strong grip.

"She is a warrior, but you three are no less so," he continued. "Thank you for comforting and protecting my granddaughter the best you could in the midst of your own struggles. And…" he looked toward Marie, "For your kindness and friendship toward my daughter as she tried to find her way in a world she knew nothing about."

"I am told she danced my part after I left," Marie informed him. "Or rather…her part."

"And she did it beautifully," Giselle blurted in a rush. "I saw most of the performance. The Master had his criticisms, but as you said…he doesn't know true beauty. The moments she let down her guard and bore her soul…she is full of fire."

"They don't call her the Sun Queen for nothing," Cygnus acknowledged with another grin. He had by now finished massaging the first foot. He set it on the floor, then toweled off the second and set to work.

Theodora flexed the newly soaked and massaged foot. Of course he couldn't undo the deformity, but he had loosened her unconsciously tense muscles to the point that the toes and ball of her foot spread out more steadily upon the tile floor.

She may not be able to walk with complete stability, but she would certainly have more than before. And less pain.

As he saw to each woman in turn, even bandaging Marie's open sores with a first aid kit, Theodora realized he had stabilized them more than their gait. The king's candor and kindness had helped them relax their guard and speak openly to him and to each other. Giselle had even stopped murmuring so quietly every time she had input. It gave hope, perhaps not for an immediate healing to the trauma they had endured together, but that they could move forward and find their footing here in their new home.

Eventually he had to leave, and he made sure they didn't révérence his exit. Theodora watched him go and realized she would gladly do whatever this man asked of her.

No wonder his citizens loved him, even in the midst of their own fall.