Regular text - Story
Italicized text - thoughts
Chapter 13 - Wellesley
7:45 pm
When I touched his arm, I almost wept at the instant connection; the zing had traveled up my arm and settled warmly in my chest. I'd snatched my hand back quickly, feeling almost nauseous as the joy at finding my match warred with the shame I felt over my past. Here was a person that had literally been destined to be mine. He was brave and honorable and decent, and he certainly did not deserve a whore like me ruining his life. A whore, just like Marcus said. That thought struck me bitterly, and I fought and won at keeping a rueful smile off my face. I managed to push the sorrow and tears I felt welling up aside long enough to give Zoro reassurances about Gunther. While Celia may be the youngest of us, she had also always been the wisest, and if she trusted Gunther with her life, then I would as well.
My satisfaction as Marcus became more enraged and helped distract me from my inner turmoil. He had always been so sure that he had complete control over everyone under his thumb, and the evidence that not only had his brother been conspiring against him but had obviously been doing so for a while must have angered him beyond belief. The quick recovery he made probably fooled almost everyone but not me. I could see how his eyes were slightly squinted, and his mouth was pulled down at the sides into a slight frown, his jaw pulled tight as he ground his teeth hard. He'd also pulled both arms up and crossed them tight across his chest, hands balled into fists. It was a position he often took right before he knocked someone across the room. I fought to keep the shiver of fear that had started at the base of my spine from spreading, taking deep breaths in through my nose and releasing them slowly through my mouth. I was safe. He couldn't touch me. Not with Zoro and Gunther here to protect us.
I could feel Zoro's solid presence at my side, Celia's delicate hand in mine, and I had almost convinced myself that I was safe when I heard a shuffling sound come from behind us. I turned to see Fredric and Henric mere feet away, identical looks of malicious glee stretched across their faces as they lecherously looked at Nami and Celia's backsides. With everyone so distracted by the threat of Marcus, no one had noticed them creep in from a hidden servant's door. Quickly moving behind the girls, I prepared to use my body as a shield; even if I couldn't take either of them in a fight, I'd at least be an obstacle to give Zoro and Gunther time to mount a defense.
However, I did not expect Henric to reach for a knife or launch it in my direction, where it stuck fast into my shoulder with a sickening squelch. Fredric unleashed his Fear Fog immediately after and, watching it speed toward me, coupled with the intense pain from the knife, caused a frightened cry to slip past my lips. Almost as soon as that fearful sound left me, Zoro flung himself in front of me faster than I could track. I stared in horror at the back of his green head and watched as the fog sped toward him. Tears finally spilled out of my eyes, and having seen what was heading our way, Zoro turned his head toward me. He didn't quite have fear in his eyes, I'm not sure Zoro even could be afraid, but something uncertain had filled his dark greys as he faced an unknown entity.
I reached out to him, desperate to pull him away from the danger. His arm moved as if he meant to reach back, but it was impossible with a sword in each hand. Before he could take a step toward me, the fog gripped his leg in a vice and froze him in place. The dark cloud moved quickly, climbing from his ankle to hip to chest in seconds. Just before it completely engulfed his head, a harsh shout left him, but that too was quickly swallowed up, and then he was gone, just a black twisting and squirming smudge hanging in the air not two feet from me. A jarring clang of metal on marble echoed briefly in the room as a black-bladed sword fell to the ground where Zoro's feet had been, the only sign he had even been real.
Fat tears dripped down my cheeks as I stared blankly at the writhing mass. The pain in my shoulder was forgotten; a new searing ache had replaced the dull throb of the knife. The pain of being unable to protect Zoro, to save him from the pain he was undoubtedly suffering while trapped inside his fears, burned like acid inside me. The loud whooshing of my heart in my ears blocked all other sounds around me, and all I could feel was crushing despair. I kept thinking how unfair this was. He was mine, and I'd barely even really got to meet him. Fredric's fog could break even the strongest of minds, and if Zoro came out broken, I just knew I wouldn't survive it.
I reached my hand back out toward the fog; a vain hope that I could infiltrate Zoro's fearscape and somehow save him was weaving itself through my mind. I'd had recent contact with soothsy pollen, so theoretically, that could give me dream-walker abilities. My fingers had just brushed the dampness of the fog, and I'd half convinced myself it would work when an abrupt harsh clapping echoed across the room, the sound so familiar it caused an icy wave of fear to reignite. The sound chased away my lingering numbness and made me snatch my hand back to my chest, the hilt of the knife still sticking out of my shoulder knocked harshly against my knuckles in my haste. After trying to compose myself for a moment, I turned my head toward Marcus. He met my stare head-on; his smile was feral, eyes gleaming viciously. I could hear Nami and Celia crying behind me, and I could feel Gunther standing stiff and tense beside me, but my eyes were only for Marcus, watching him the way one watches a predator they happen upon unexpectedly.
He casually dropped his arms to his side and walked, more like sauntered, around us to stand beside the brothers. His eyes roved across us all before zeroing back in on my face. He stared hard at the tear tract drying on my face, at how my body trembled, and how I clutched my hands tightly to my chest. His smile dropped into a deep frown, and he spoke to me in an acidic tone. "Lavender, usually I'd love to see that look on you. Getting you so defeated and broken is normally a feat I'd take great pride in; however, we both know that it's not for my benefit that you cry." He cut his gaze over toward the fog surrounding Zoro's body, and his face warped with disgust and, worse, jealousy. When he spoke next, his voice was booming, "This!" his arm swept in Zoro's direction, "You weep for this useless mongrel! You pathetic ungrateful whore! After everything I've given you, everything I've given up for you? You disrespect me like this?"
That irked me and snapped me out of my stupor. I hated the way he spoke about me, about Zoro. A vein in my forehead throbbed, and my temper flared brightly. "What you've given up? You are a monster that has given nothing, Marcus. All you have ever done is take and take from me until there was almost nothing left! My family, my kingdom," I paused to take a shuddery breath, "my childhood and innocence have all been ripped from me. Your gifts and love are nothing but the delusions of a sick, power-hungry man!" My breathing sped up as I got more and more worked up. In the face of my anger, Marcus just continued to look at me, and slowly an empty smile stretch across his face, and he began to speak to me in a very flat tone,
"Lavender, if you know what's good for ya, you will shut your fucking mouth, wipe your sniveling face, and come take your punishment like a good girl."
He points to the spot directly in front of him as if he fully expected me to be willing to walk over and stand before him like I hadn't just spoken against him, and on any other day, I may have listened. I may have admitted defeat, walked over there with my head down and metaphoric tail tucked, and taken a beating, or worse. But today, after everything that happened, it's just too absurd and too delusional. I felt Gunther tensing beside me at Marcus's tone, and it was such an odd feeling knowing he was here to protect us from Marcus, not feed us to him. The whole situation is so ridiculous that instead of the trained fear Marcus expects to leak out of me, I laugh. It starts as a soft chuckle that startles Nami and slowly evolves into something explosive, echoing off the bare concrete block walls and up into the wooden rafters above us. I laugh until my stomach hurts, and Nami and Celia have to hold me up with their grips on my arms.
During my outburst, one of the brothers quips to Marcus, "Uh oh, boss. I think you've finally scrambled her marbles." Marcus does not join in the laugh that the brothers share. I can feel his stare, but my laughs just keep bubbling out of me. It goes on for almost a full minute before I manage to get a hold of myself and wipe a few tears from my eyes. Dropping my hand from my face, it knocks against Henric's knife, jacking pain up my neck and across my shoulder. That's going to have to come out before we can move forward.
It takes several deep breaths to settle my nerves before I can reach up and grab the handle of the knife still sticking out of my chest, and with a pained yelp, I pulled it free from where my skin had healed around the hilt. The wound healed quickly with barely a sting and no mark left even to prove it had happened. I held the knife up to gaze at it. The blade was four inches long and slightly curved at the tip. It was well crafted, perfectly weighted, as all Henric's weapons were, with sapphires and opals inlaid in the hilt and a bronze finish on the handle.
If this blade had hit a non-devil fruit user like Nami or Celia, they would be dead. It made me feel grateful for the burden that had been forced on me for the very first time. The blood on the blade was cherry red, fat drops dripping down my hand onto the floor. I was briefly reminded of how Jezza's blood had reflected a similar color on my knuckles earlier today, an inappropriate flicker of pleasure welling up inside me. I wiped it quickly on my harem pants and then tucked it into the band.
I shifted my gaze back to Marcus, whose expression had gone apoplectic. Never in all the time I'd been trapped here had I ever laughed in his presence, let alone at him; his fragile ego could never have handled that. But I don't feel scared or nervous in the face of his rage. Instead, I feel a strange sense of calm. For the first time in years, I meet his gaze with the full extent of my hatred for him shining bright in my eyes. Hurt and surprise briefly flash across his face as if he doesn't understand why I might look at him like that. A scoff of disgust burst out of me, "You call me pathetic. At least I'm not delusional. You look at me with hurt and confusion as if you have really convinced yourself that I love you." Another laugh of disbelief huffs out of me, "You disgust me, Marcus, and I will never submit to you again. I'll die first."
My breath is coming fast when I finish. For the first time in years, I felt proud of myself. I'd finally stood up to the bastard, finally hurt him, even minutely, and the smile that flowed across my face was mean and pointed right in his direction. Silence surrounds us, thick and heavy. Marcus was almost supernaturally still at first, his head down, dark brows hiding his eyes, then he let out his own dark chuckle and raised his head slowly, the movement controlled and his body tense.
"Oh, Lavender. My lovely, foolish Lavender. You weak, pitiful bitch." Bitch was barked out harshly, "You'll beg for death by the time I'm finished with you, and I'll keep you there, right on the edge of life and death. I'll twist and pull and push you until that brilliant mind I love about you so much has withered and turned to ash. And when there is nothing left, when you think of nothing except what I allow you to think, say nothing except what I tell you to say; I'll give you to Henric and his brother and let them do it all over again."
I stared at Marcus hard when he finally stopped speaking and let what he'd said settle around me. He smiled triumphantly, so sure he'd said just the right thing to bring me to heel. The threat of being given to the brothers had always kept me in line before, but I was pretty sure I was about to die, one way or another, so I met his stare head-on fearlessly. His face grew meaner, and he began excitedly running his hands together. Like the thought of hurting me was something to anticipate and look forward to. Which, for him, it probably is. But he supposedly loves me, huh? What a fucking joke.
A movement to my right pulled my attention from Marcus. I had been so focused on him that I had missed the moment Henric had started forward, his Haki pushing him faster than I could track. Gunther's firm grip yanked Celia and me back just as Henric's sword flew through the air, swiping right where we had been standing just a second prior. I felt the wind just in front of my face and watched transfixed as a lock of lilac hair fell to the marble.
Fredric couldn't move, not with his fog busy surrounding Zoro, and Marcus usually liked to let others fight for him, so it was just four-on-one, which would typically be great odds if three of us weren't small, unarmed, under-trained women. Gunther continued to pull us with him, but I could tell it was taking its toll, and if we stayed on the defensive, it was only a matter of time before we got tired, and he caught up with us.
Nami, who had been keeping pace behind us, met my gaze over Gunther's shoulder. I spoke quickly, "Nami, on my mark, throw yourself as fast as you can to the left. We have to get out of their path, or this is just going to wear us out." I could hear Gunther disagreeing, could see him tightening his grip on Celia with panic in his eyes, but Celia just nodded at me, and after a few more paces, I gripped my sister's arm firmly so I could get her out of Gunther's hands, and on the count of three, I yelled, "NOW!" Celia was briefly caught in a tug-o-war as Gunther tried desperately to keep her beside him. But it was either he let go or dislocate her arm, and I knew he'd rather die than hurt her, so reluctantly he let his hand slide from her arm and she fell to my side.
We all collided with the marble floor hard, almost immediately followed by Henric and Gunther's swords clashing. I could hear Gunther cursing loudly as soon as Celia was out of his grasp, his protection. I was charmed by his desire to keep her safe; I just hoped that he didn't allow himself to get too distracted. I didn't have to worry long as he took the frustration and pushed back hard against Henric, their sword clashing and dramatically throwing sparks all around them.
They slashed and bounced across the room in a furious blur. Gunther was obviously the better swordsman, but Henric had tenacity and aggression and just kept coming no matter how many cuts Gunther dished out. Finally, one of Henric's heavy-handed swings clipped Gunther's arm, slicing his fancy guard uniform from shoulder to wrist. A steady stream of blood trickled to the floor, and Nami and I had to grip Celia tight to keep her from running to him when he let out a grunt of pain.
Henric laughed and cockily held his arms out to his side. "C'mon, boy. The same man taught you and me the sword. I know all your moves, all your tricks. I've watched you fight for years." He quickly turns his horrid face toward us and moves his eyes up and down each of us in a way that made me feel greasy; then, after a quick smirk, at Marcus, he turns back to Gunther with a chuckle. "Is that little piece of ass you're all worked up over really worth all your giving up? Cause I gotta tell you, if she's anything like her sister, I've had better. For sure, nothing worth giving up your position over." Henric's rotten smile flashed when it became clear he was getting under Gunther's skin. Their battle had led them close to where we were standing, Gunther darted forward, and when their swords crossed and their faces were close, we could hear Henric whisper, "Now, your sister, Lena, that was some ass worth giving something up for."
Gunther's face froze, and he quickly bounced several feet back from Henric till he could compose himself. "What are you saying? You never even met Lena."
"Sure I did." His words are like poison. I can see the toll each syllable takes on Gunther. "She and I shared a passionate night together on her last birthday."
"She died at fifteen. She was kind, sweet, and innocent. She'd never of touched an animal like you." He ground his teeth hard as he tried to keep his anger from overriding his sense.
His opponent continued to smile his vile smile, chuckling meanly before responding. "By the time my brother and I were done with her, she wasn't any of those things. We wrecked her as best we could. Probably why she threw herself off that balcony."
Gunther's face went paper white. And given he was already pale as a ghost, that was really fucking saying something. His red eyes went wide, and his pupils shrunk to pinpricks, "My sister died of a fever." His words were hard, but the tone was shaky. Even I was shocked. The brothers and Marcus usually loved to regal me with stories of their horrible past exploits, so keeping this close to the chest for so long was surprising. I knew the brothers almost as well as I knew Marcus, and I knew what Gunther was discovering would wreck part of the foundation his life had been built on.
Henric looked across the room at his brother, and they shared a nasty smile. Looking back at Gunther, he says, "Nah, that's just what your brother decided to tell you, and your coward father and harlot mother were too scared of him to say any different." Gunther's face fell further, and like the baby brother he was, even if they were currently combative, he looked toward Marcus. For what I wasn't sure, comfort maybe in the face of sudden hard truths, a shared sense of outrage on their sister's behalf, but Marcus was unphased by what Henric had spit out. He even looked bored at the news that was obviously tearing Gunther apart. Clearly, what Henric had said was true, and watching Gunther's heartbreak was agonizing.
He continued to stare at his brother for a few more seconds, begging him with his eyes to say something, anything, but when it became clear Marcus was not interested in speaking about their sister further, Gunther's face blanked out before dropping into the sinister mask I had always known him to wear. He threw himself at Henric with a renewed fury that pushed them both to the boundaries of the throne room, a scream of anguish bursting out of him. Henric's sneer dropped into a mask of concentration as he was finally put on the defensive, and the girls and I began walking around the room, trying to keep them between Marcus and us while also keeping Marcus distracted so he didn't try and go after Zoro while he was defenseless.
I shifted my gaze to Marcus; he was keeping pace with us, staring at us like we were gazelles, and he was a lion in wait. He'd occasionally take several quick steps forcing me to drag the girls and myself faster around the room, which I was already panicking about because we could not keep this pace up. Well, I probably could, but I could already see that Nami and Celia were exhausted, and Marcus could see it as well and was baiting us with his quick pace and grabby hands.
We had completely circumvented the throne room, and I was quickly running out of ideas for escape. The door would obviously be guarded, and if Bruno and Vic were the guards, I'd rather not find out what they'd do to us if they caught us, and the door we'd taken to get in here only led back to the cell I was kept in. The frustration was making my head throb, Nami and Celia were chattering, brainstorming ideas of their own, and we were all coming up with bupkis. I could feel the stirrings of a panic attack building; my mouth had run dry, dizziness was setting in, and along with the shaking, sweating, and rapid heart rate, I could barely focus on keeping my feet under me. I cursed myself for being so weak during a time like this and pushed harder to stay ahead of Marcus and pushed the girls faster.
A sudden loud crash echoed outside the throne room, drawing our attention as we neared the grand door. The wall around the door was raining small bits of stone and dust. Nami let out a small gasp, and looking at her, I saw a look of hope spread across her bruised and weary face. Maybe it's more of her crew.
She met my stare, and after a brief silent conversation, we each grabbed one of Celia's arms and took off across the marble floor. The hard floor hurt my bare feet as we pounded toward the heavy wooden door, but I only pushed myself harder. If we could get to whoever was outside, maybe we could win. Save Zoro, save Celia, save...me. It could finally be over. I let out a small smile when we finally were near the door. I reached out my hand, and as my fingers brushed the heavy iron handle and had just begun to turn it, I heard twin gasps of pain just before a firm grip on my neck ripped me backward.
I flew through the air, my hands flying up to pull at the vice around my neck. I could see that Nami and Celia had been knocked back to the ground, bruising and swelling already spreading across their faces, Nami cradling Celia in her arms as she wept. I'd been so focused on the possibility of my freedom that I had blocked everything else out. Stupid! How could I have been so stupid? Despair swept through me as the hand on my nap tightened painfully. I was hauled up close to the front of Marcus's body, and the feeling of his body on mine, even through both of our respective clothes, was enough to sicken me. I didn't immediately look at his face, though. I may be in denial, but looking at him felt a little like giving up. Instead, I strained my neck and managed to look toward Gunther. He was fighting tooth and nail to get to us, but every path was blocked by Henric throwing himself and his blade into Gunther's way. The frustration on his face grew with every minute, and his eyes bounced to Celia weeping in Nami's arms with terrifying anxiety.
Marcus must have grown tired of not having my full attention since my head was yanked hard, and suddenly Marcus's face was all my eyes could see. The flat green eyes filled with bloodshot rage, nostrils flared, and teeth bared in fury. In the immediate face of his anger, the tiny flame of my earlier defiance began to waver, and I felt it start to snuff under the pressure of his stare. With Zoro incapacitated and Gunther trapped in a never-ending pyrrhic battle, there seemed to be no more options, so I tried the only weapon I had left, and I felt my stomach turn at what was about to come out of my mouth.
"Marcus, my love, I'm...hmm" I was silenced almost immediately by his mouth on mine. His too-sharp teeth and use of too much tongue caught me by surprise. His hand around my throat tightened, the bones and ligaments in my neck groaning, and I knew when he finally let go, I'd have deep bruising that would take hours to heal. He finally pulled back with a satisfied smile, his lips red with my blood, and before I could react or say anything else, he slammed his giant hand hard over my mouth and nose, cutting off my air supply.
"Shh, oh no, no, no, my sweet Lavender. The time for talking is done. I think you have said quite enough this evening don't you?" His voice was calm and measured, with none of the anger I had expected, and that was more terrifying than if he had yelled in my face. He continued to hold his hand over my airways, and I began flailing from lack of oxygen. My vision began to spot black, and I could hear Celia's piercing scream from the floor below me, begging Marcus to let me go. He had just opened his mouth; I'm sure to spit some vicious retort at her when the door not five feet from us exploded inward, sending Marcus and me back with the blast.
I smacked the ground and was getting really fucking tired of hitting the marble. I couldn't even brace myself since as soon as Marcus let go, I could only suck in large gulps of air to try and clear my vision. Dust once again suffused the room, and the sound of multiple feet crunching over broken wood and stone filled the air. Hands grabbed my shoulders, and after an initial flinch, I realized the new gentle touch was Celia pulling me back toward her. She hugged me tight and smoothed my hair as our mom used to, and tears gathered in my eyes as I took deep breaths. At least I can blame the dust for the tears.
Nami was standing in front of Celia and me, and everything about her stance told me she would defend us with her life, shoulders squared, fists half raised, and balled tight. I struggled to sit up to try and stand with her, but I'd suffered too much trauma too fast and could barely lean on Celia without sliding to the floor. She patted my hair again, wrapped her arm around my waist, and leaned me against her front so we could both look toward the door. When the dust finally settled and when we got a clear view of the doorway, I felt Celia tense behind me, and I followed right along.
A ghost stood in the doorway—a taller broader ghost with a bad dye job and our father's eyes. Al, our long lost brother, stood in the broken door and froze the same as us. He looked almost as shocked at finding us as we were to see him. His gold eyes were warring between unbridled happiness and anger as his eyes bounced between us and the men and chaos around us. There were three people with him. One woman with straight-cut black hair, a dusky complexion, and the most beautiful teal eyes I had ever seen. She stared at Nami with distress and relief; her feet twitched as if forcing herself to stay in place, and her hand wrung nervously on the strap of the bag slung across her shoulders.
The two men were vibrating with violent energy. The shorter man with scruffy black hair and a bright red vest was bouncing on his sandaled feet. His fist balled up, ready to fight as soon as the word was given. He gave off heavy protector energy, and it helped ease me slightly that we now had him on our side. Beside him was the opposite of the warm buzzing energy that he seemed to give off in spades. The cold fury coming from the second man made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and goosebumps pimple across my skin.
He had the brightest blond hair I had ever seen, cut short and sweeping across one eye leaving only one dark blue eye visible beneath a strangely curled eyebrow. My gaze stuck to him immediately, and would not let go. Trailing down, I took in his tall six-foot frame, wrapped in fitted black slacks and a cream dress shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows. While he wasn't as powerfully built as, say, Zoro, there was strength in his slight frame. You could see it in how he had his large feet planted firmly on the hard marble floor and how his arms flexed muscles as he clenched and unclenched his fists.
From my prone position on the floor, I watched as his gaze locked onto Nami; relieved devotion poured out of him in waves. A tired smile crossed my face, and I suddenly felt safer than I had since Zoro had been wrapped in the fear fog. Nami had given me a brief rundown of her crew prior to us being dragged here. The beautiful woman had to be the fierce Robin, the scruffy guy about to bounce out of his shoes, their captain Luffy, and the blond man with such determination and affection in his eyes when he looked at Nami had to be Sanji.
Sanji's mouth split into a grin around the burnt cigarette butt wedged between his lips. I managed to shift my head to look at Nami. She was returning Sanji's smile with one of her own full of relief and love. I watched her eye shift, and a different kind of love began to shine from her eyes. I lolled my head back around and saw that she and Luffy had locked eyes. Mutual pining seemed to simmer just below the surface, and honestly, I wasn't sure either of them was aware that they were looking at each other like that.
Man, what I wouldn't do to have someone look at me like that.
A/N Well, it's not perfect, and I'll probably edit it to death in the next few weeks, but I think this chapter hits all the notes I was trying to hit. Please feel free to leave a review to let me know what you think and how you think I could improve. Wish everyone a Happy Valentine's -CL.