A/N Regular text - story

Italicized text - thoughts

Chapter 1

12:45 pm

God, I want to sleep. As if the hard mattress and scratchy blankets weren't enough to chase sleep away, a constant wailing from one of the newer girls was going to drive me bat-shit if she didn't shut up soon. It's not like I don't feel for the girl, Sady, I think her name is. It's just that once you've been through the first night of someone's slavery over one hundred times, the crying begins to wear thin. Wendie and a few of the older girls had been tending to her; the guards had dragged her back around ten last night. And with it now creeping toward one in the afternoon, I was completely over it.

"Shut her up!" I screamed from underneath my pillow. Silence met me. Sady's hiccuping sobs still pierced the air, but all the hushing and soothing noises had stopped.

"How can you say that!" spat Tara. She'd only been in our cell for three months. I hated her. I still would have hated her even if she weren't so sour. She wore an air of arrogance and entitlement that did not belong in a slave, especially not one that had been a peasant beforehand. Every word she spoke dripped with malice. Her piggish nose always trusted up in the air as if she thought she was better than you. She had hated me from the first moment she had met me when I laughed at how ridiculous she looked in another girl's harem clothes. Not my fault that she looked like a skeleton in a pillowcase. The memory made me smile; thankfully, she couldn't see that from under my pillow.

A loud noise was still buzzing in the otherwise silent room. Oh, right, Tara is yelling at me. I tuned back in on her screechy voice and let out a sigh, already over her.

"You understand her pain; you know what they did to her. How can you have such apathy for her? Are you this heartless?" Her calling me heartless. What a joke. That wicked bitch calling me heartless as if she doesn't bully new girls all the time and steal their food if she thinks she can get away with it.

I scoffed, threw my pillow to the side, and met her amber eyes with my green. "I'm not unsympathetic. I'm just tired. She's been crying for hours. All they did was slap her around a bit. If this is how she reacts to her first night with Marcus, she won't last a month once His real attention sets it." Of course, more groans came from Tara and her crony Jezza. Jezza's wavy purple hair hung in thick layers, covering her eyes, but I bet if I could see them, they'd be glowering. They had stood as if they meant to confront me. They were under the mistaken impression that being a slave implied you needed to be miserable every waking second. Permanent scowls and frown lines had already worn their way into their faces, and they took my constant stone-like expressions and my laid-back nonchalance as personal affronts to their hell. While it's accurate that no moment is joyous, not taking the time to sleep or share a happy story with a bunkmate was likely to unwind your mind much faster than any torture our captors could dream up.

They met me with more silence and glares. They had yet to take a step, but I could see Tara's foot trembling as if she wasn't sure she knew what she wanted to do. Preparing myself, I threw my blanket aside and gave off a deceptive air of apathy. The others in our cell kept quiet. They had all been with me for at least two years, so they knew what I would do to Tara if she decided to take that first step.

"Tara. Maybe tone it down a bit, yeah. We've all been up all night and were a little stressed. Let's not do something you'll regret." Oh, sweet Wendie, always the peacekeeper.

Tara rounded on her with a pinched shriek. "Oh, shove off, Wen! I don't understand why you put up with her. She's lazy, sarcastic, and it's as if she doesn't care about what's happening to us!" I care, I thought at her. You'll never know how much I care. A painful squeezing started in my chest, but I managed to keep my face blank. I rubbed at the circular scars on my wrist, trying to keep myself calm. It wouldn't do any good to start smacking Tara around, even if she was dumber than a box of hair.

"Yeah," Jezza added with a sneer, leaning back on the wall near Sady's head, "I bet she even likes it when King Pin picks her. I've certainly never seen her come back beaten or bruised, but I have seen the hickeys and love bites up and down her body when they bring her back, and we all know how often she volunteers. Tell me, Lav, what exactly do you do for him that he's so gentle with you." My blood froze. Flashes of the man who claimed to love me, touching and kissing me, made my stomach turn. Of all the things Jezza could have said, this was undoubtedly crossing a line. Before she could finish laughing, I had left my bed and smashed my fist into her jaw, one of her teeth flying out of her mouth with the impact. I dazedly watched as it skittered underneath a nearby chest, leaving a hopscotch path of blood drips in its wake. Huh, a molar. Cool. Sady screeched as Jezza collapsed. I stood over her, looking at her blood drip off my hand and breathing hard.

Tara fell to Jezza's side and wrapped her arm around her shoulder. She fell hard on her knees, no doubt ripping the material of her pants as she hit the hard stone floor. She was grasping her face and making gurgling sounds as blood from her split lip and missing tooth flooded her throat. She stared up at me with a stern scowl. Can she even make any other face anymore?

"What the hell is the matter with you?! Don't we get enough abuse from them? Now we have to get it from you, too!" I couldn't speak. I was too focused on how the early afternoon sun made Jezza's blood on my knuckles candy red. I wondered how it tasted. Pushing that thought away, I forced every breath, trying to stave off the oncoming panic. I tried to focus on something else; the dark grey stone walls, the equally dark stone floor that seemed designed to suck heat away from anything that touched it, but it wasn't working. Too many flashes of Him had started to stream through my brain, and I could feel my carefully crafted facade cracking at the edges. No other girl in all my time here ever spoke of Marcus if they didn't have to. Our cell was our safe space, where he never dared to tread. It was our most strict taboo, bringing Him up against another prisoner. My hands had started to tremble.

However, before I could completely break down, Wendie grabbed me around the shoulders, giving me a firm shake. Leaning close, she whispered in my ear, "You need to calm down. Think! If you hurt her anymore, you know He will react badly. He might even hurt, well, you know who." Wendie's words brought air back to my lungs as they sunk in. I had to behave. Quickly wiping Jezza's blood on my harem pants, I moved back to my bunk and met Jezza's eyes. I thought about saying something but felt that we had already interacted more than we probably should for the time being.

"Tara," she looked at me, furious; what else is new? "Tell your friend to watch her mouth. Her teeth seem to have a habit of running away. I'd hate for it to happen again." I put extra malice in my words but didn't feel them. I did not relish attacking fellow captives. Tara was right, our lives were already too hard, but I would be damned if I let her get away with that.

Tara didn't respond. For once, she seemed to know when to shut her cranky mouth. Jezza, however, seemed to have other ideas; as she opened her badly bloodied mouth to speak, only a gasp came out as the pain in her mouth cut her off. I did hear what might have been the tail end of 'bitch,' but I chose to ignore it. I chuckled a little and rolled my eyes. Tara went back to comforting Sady, but having caught me laughing at her friend's pain, she began trying to glare a hole in my head. I blocked her out, though, my mind already on its way back to numbing indifference. Closing my eyes, I tried to meditate. I attempted to project an air of calm that I most definitely was not feeling. I had almost reached a point where I could probably attempt a few hours of sleep.

I didn't get the chance. At that moment, the door to our cell began to crack open. Every hair on my body stood at attention as the poorly oiled door squeaked open. My head was frozen, suspended halfway to my pillow, my long lilac-colored hair blocking my view of the intruders. Various scenarios ran through my head, none making sense at this time of the day. Usually, the door only opened when our owner wanted one of us, and the guards had come to make a selection. It was a hellish experience because selection was always random, and you had no way to prepare yourself. Another reason for the immediate fear was the sun flowing through our barred window. At no point in my eleven years in this cage had our door ever opened during the day.

Standing up slowly, I turned my whole body and faced the door, subtly putting myself in front of the other girls. It was always better to meet danger head-on rather than have the fear be an unknown at your back. My mother used to say that. She'd been a brave woman. We released deep breaths in shudders as we all got ready for this sudden intrusion. Screaming was the first thing we heard through the open door — an outraged, muffled cry from a woman rang through the hall. Must be a new girl, I thought with a frown. Three figures came out of the shadows; two of them hurled the third into the room, and she landed roughly on the stone before us. The guards looked around until their eyes fell on me. The shorter of the two grinned evilly and walked toward me.

"Lavender," he purred in what I'm sure he thought was a silky tone but came off more like oil, and he stopped in front of me. From behind him came, "Prepare her. King Pin wants her first thing this evening." Fredric said from his spot by the door. A rotted sneer stretched across his thin face. King Pin's right and left-hand men stood before me. Fredric was tall and prematurely grey with rotten teeth and sallow skin. He had never had a kind word to say in his entire life. Anyone King Pin decried needed punishment. Fredric happily slipped out his signature curved blades and gleefully tore them apart. These qualities are what made him the scarier of the two. The stouter one, his brother Henric, was more likely to kill you quickly, but Fredric liked pain. He enjoyed the slow death from a long-drawn terror.

"Yeah, make sure she's done up real well, babe. You know how King Pin likes em'." Henric's mangled face became even more horrendous as he grinned. He reached a hand toward me, catching a lock of my hair and bringing it to his face, taking a deep whiff. "You remember how I like it, too, baby, don't ya?"

Internally, I shrieked and ranted about how I'd rather die than let him touch me, or rather, ever touch me again, that I'd rather die than subject another girl to the horrors I had suffered, but I did nothing. I did not need another beating this week. I just stared them down as he released my hair, some of it catching on his jagged fingernails, pulling free of my roots. He just chuckled as I winced, and he tucked the strands into his pocket. Fucker did that on purpose to get a reaction from me. My spine remained stiff and unbowed as they slowly backed out of the room, their chuckling grating further on my nerves as they left. When the door shut, I let out a weary sigh. The bravado drained from me as the immediate danger moved on. Shaking myself, I looked down at the girl shaking at my feet.

She was so slight that even my small hands could probably go around her waist. Her shoulder-length orange hair was in complete disarray, I suspect, from the grip of a sweaty, unsympathetic hand. Though she was still lying where the guards had thrown her, her hand had come up to cover her mouth, muffling her breathless sobs. Tears were running nonstop from her vibrant brown eyes. Her soft lips split, and her left eye was swelling slightly, most likely from being backhanded.

"Have they hurt you much?" My voice in the otherwise silent room seemed to shock her out of her stupor. She raised those coffee-colored eyes to me and subtly shook her head no, though I noticed her hand was gently cradling her swelling eye and cheek. I'll admit this surprised me. Typically, girls who had been hand-picked off the street were severely roughed up. Marcus must want to break this one all on his own. I grimaced at that thought and lowered myself down to my knees beside her. Gently, I rested my hand on her shoulder and gave it a light squeeze.

"What's your name?" My voice was gentle. I'm sure it surprised Tara and Jezza. I was away with Marcus when they first got here, and they were the first to talk to Sady, so they've never seen me welcome a new girl before.

She shivered a little, and her voice shook, but she managed to say, "N-nami. My name is Nami. What's yours?"

"Names' Well-Lavender; call me Lavender." Looking at her as gently as I could, I asked, "Where did they get you?"

Tears suddenly refilled her eyes, and she hung her head.

"I was in the shopping district with my crew. Sanji wanted to get some fresh fruits, veggies, and other supplies for our ship, but I said I wanted to buy map materials, and then I saw this perfect gift for my crewmate Robin. I slipped away without telling him. They probably don't even know I'm missing yet." Her head hung suddenly as if her sorrow was just too heavy.

I thought about it for a second before I asked, "Was it a clothing store?"

Her head popped up in shock, her eyes widening slightly, "How did you know that?"

I grimaced sadly and continued, "Was there a girl there, mostly beige, who didn't speak much?"

"Ya! I thought it was so weird. She saw me getting taken and didn't do anything! She closed the blinds and walked away." a fresh wave of tears followed.

I gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze before saying. "Most likely, Nami, she's the one that called Fredric and Henric."

"What?! But why?!"

Wendie answered first, "She used to be one of us. A slave, but they broke her and gave her to the two guards who brought you here. They use her to scout for potential girls for their master."

Nami didn't speak. She just stared at Wendie as if she had grown a second head. Finally, after a very long second, she turns back to me and asks, "What is this place?" Nami asked, trepidation threading through her voice.

Sighing heavily, I rose from my knees, bringing her with me with my grip on her arms.

"This is hell. Or as likely as you are to encounter it while still alive." Nami's pale skin went whiter, and the color drained from her lips. I think only my grip on her kept her upright.

"What do you mean by that?" Her voice had gone high and raspy.

"We are a harem for Marcus 'King Pin' Urasea, Nami. Do you know what a harem is?"

Horror fills her eyes as the reality of her circumstance fully registers. Her pupils were going to pinpricks, and her skin went clammy under my hands.

"No, it can't be. I mean, I can't. I won't!" She is crying harder and holding my hands tight across her chest as she tries not to freak out completely.

I sigh and hold her through her freakout, wrapping my arms around her as she shakes. I murmur what I hope are comforting words, but honestly don't even know what I'm saying. Mostly just hushing sounds. Finally, she pulls away slightly and meets my eyes.

"Wait, what did they mean by 'Prepare her'?" There is a thread of hysteria in her voice.

Tara answers from across the room, her voice gruff, "We need to get you ready to fuck. Duh." Jezza promptly smacks her upside the head for being so crass.

If possible, Nami goes more rigid.

"Isn't there anyone to help?" She was grasping for straws. Everyone goes through it in the beginning. "Like the police or something?"

Shaking my head, I say, "No, Nami. The men who threw you in here were the police."

"B-But how could that be? What kind of messed up place is this?"

"Fallnia. A nation that exists completely under the hard thumb of a power-hungry despot."

She attempts to argue several times. Her mouth was opening and closing so that she almost looked like a fish, but no sound came out.

Without her noticing, I began walking toward my bed and sat her down on it. I can see the wheels in her head spinning. She's trying to work out a way out of this, but I can see she's coming up short. Slowly, I work my way through my few outfits. Even if she's taller, we are still about the same size, and one of my dresses might fit her.

Tara catches on to what I'm doing and scoffs derisively. "Why bother Lav? We both know he's picking you when he sends for someone tonight. Even if she's new, he hasn't requested you in a few days. We all know he can't resist." She and her cronies share a laugh at my expense, and I do my best to ignore her. Is she deaf? They literally just said he wanted Nami prepared. Even as anger begins to boil in my gut, I push past it, grabbing the hem of Nami's shirt. She comes out of her shock when she feels the cold air of our cell on her navel.

"What are you doing!" I flinch away from the sudden shriek in my ear and ignore the sting of her hands slapping mine.

Sighing, I say, "Changing your clothes."

"Bu-but you can't. I will not be a sex slave!"

I sigh heavily, hating every moment of this. "You're already a slave, Nami." It's blunt, but I think that's what she needs. She resolutely crosses her arms over the front of her shirt and shakes her head. "No, I'm just temporarily inconvenienced." I almost would have laughed if it didn't make me so sad.

"I will NOT be changing my clothes. I will sit right here and wait for rescue." Nami swings her head around, sticks her turned-up nose in the air, and huffs. As if that's the end of it. Maybe she's stupid?

Groaning, I look over to the far left wall and get an idea. Sitting with knees pulled up and head bowed is Alice, the only slave that's been here longer than I have.

"Hey Alice, come here a second."

She doesn't even question it. You need autonomy for that, and that was all gone by now.

She stops shy of me, and I take her hand and run soothing circles on the back of it with my own. If not for our bond, she would probably be just like Jane by now.

"Please show Nami what King Pin did to you when you first got here and refused to do what he wanted." Anxiety suddenly showed through her otherwise empty, grey eyes, but I just smiled gently and continued to stroke her hand.

She sighed and knelt by Nami. Looking the girl dead in the eye, she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, well, the nub where her tongue once was. Nami cried out when she saw it, the nub in a mouth empty of teeth. She put her hand up as if she was going to touch it but dropped it down to her lap, where she took a death grip on her other hand.

"They did that to you?" Her voice trembled.

Alice nodded. She looked at me, a question in her eyes. "Yeah, Alice, you can go." Alice nodded once and then swept back to her bunk.

Nami turned her horrified eyes to me, "Why did they do that."

"She was rebellious. The daughter of a rich noble from before the war thought she'd get rescued any day. So she refused to wear the clothes, refused to use the right words, and our master had her tongue cut out and her teeth pulled. It did the trick when they brought me in; it was just after it happened, and the fight had left her. She wasn't who I remembered."

"You knew her before?" I froze suddenly. I looked at Nami's eyes, and I think she saw the panic sink in. Waving her hand in front of her face, she seemed to wave off the question and looked forward. My breath left me in a whoosh, and I continued to hand her clothes.

Sighing sadly, she grabbed the dress and harem-type shorts. "Could you guys turn away for a few seconds?" Nodding, we did as she asked. She cleared her throat, and I turned to see her looking about as uncomfortable as I'd expected. "Don't worry; when you get called, they will at some point take your measurements and get you clothes that fit." I placed my hand over my mouth as soon as I said it. God, did I say that? Dumb-ass.

"Oh yeah. I can't wait till those thugs come to get me for the rape. You think this Marcus will do it by himself, or is he going to let them join." Tara started to say something, but my face must have made her think twice. "But hey," Nami continued to yell, "at least I'll get some new clothes out of it, though, huh!" She sounded a touch hysterical, but at least now she was angry instead of the hopeless woman I feared she was.

Crossing her arms, she sat hard on my bunk, shuddering. "Well, this won't matter by tonight anyway."

Looking at her sideways from my spot beside her, I motioned with my hand for her to continue. "Once my crew knows I'm missing, they will tear this island down to its foundations."

Tara and Jezza laughed. I looked over at them with another scowl. Jezza had managed to wipe most of the blood from her face, but I could tell her mouth was still bleeding and pointed to my own with a chuckle. She scowled harder. Damn, if her scowl gets any deeper, her eyebrows are going to touch her cheekbones.

"Sure, Nami. I just bet they will." I could hear the giggles in Tara's voice. What a wicked cow.

"You don't know them!" Nami shouted. "Luffy, my captain, will be king of the pirates, and he already tore up one island to make me his navigator; I can't see how this will be any different!"

Tara and Jezza still laughed at her. Nami turned red under their dismissals. Tapping her elbow slightly to get her attention, I asked, "Do you honestly think they will come for you?"

"I know it." There was no tremor in her voice. That one sentence was the most steady thing she had said her entire time here. She was so confident that it gave me hope, and I gave a small smile as I looked away toward the window. The sun was going down. Had it been that long already? I felt somewhat bewildered to notice the fading light. It feels like only minutes, but I'm sure the sun has moved for at least two or more hours.

"You think they might be able to help us?"

She looked at me with suddenly bewildered eyes. I understand, I thought, can't expect strangers to help when one of their own is in danger. I nodded and went to turn away.

Nami put her hand on my shoulder, and I turned just my head.

"Lavender, it was never a question of if we will help you. Of course, we will."

Hope bloomed in my heart. It was small but warm. I looked at her a second longer and then turned entirely onto my side, laying my head down on my pillow. Maybe this is what we have been waiting for all this time. We didn't say anything else. I could hear Wendie explaining to Nami the routine of how dinner is at 5, how they come every night at 6 to get the girl King Pin wanted that evening. Sady was crying again. Tara was now tending to both her and Jezza, who was finally letting her tears fall against Tara's shoulder. I drowned them all out. And at last, I drifted into a fitful sleep. A solitary tear slid down my cheek as I dreamed of freedom.