A/N: Warning, angst ahead. Most of yall seem to like the angsty stuff, so I guess the warning is unnecessary. My husband wasn't a fan. Said it wasn't very One Piece (uh, to be fair, there's slave trading and implied cannibalism in ONe Piece. I mean, it's not exactly rainbows and unicorns).

On a lighter note, I've written to chapter 32 and am still going strong. I am really close to catching the flashbacks up with the main storyline! Woot! Straw Hat hijinks will then ensue!

Also: I believe I described Lady as being a red or crimson snake in the past. I'm changing her to being an ivory colored snake, because I want her to look a little less threatening. She isn't venomous, and I figured her being this pretty, light color would make her feel more ,well, lady like. (Plus, she's a descendant of Salome, so my color choices were red, white, and red/white. I didn't want her to be pink or speckled (I really think the speckles take away from Salome's design, personally. Would love it if she looked a little more threatening). If Lady were a person I picture her as wearing a pastel summer dress and holding a parasol.

Ch. 28 – Unforgivable

The final scene of the show took its emotional toll. Though they'd switched out the Navy Lover for Zoro, they hadn't really changed the ending all that much. Not for the Sun Queen.

It was time for her to playact taking her own life in penance for the loss of her country. After all the feelings she had successfully repressed throughout the course of the show, this moment worried her the most. It worried her so much in fact that she didn't notice that Kuina had disappeared from back stage. Helena had slipped into a meditative state, emptying her thoughts and attachments so she could perform.

A soft version of Helena the Heretic filled the air, the playful tune turned somber by the now minor key. She took a deep breath, knowing her entrance was nigh.

"I can do this," she murmured to herself.

Misha stood beside her. He must have heard her, for he shot her a look, opened his mouth as though about to offer encouragement, but then he checked himself. The solemnity that had settled around the Prima Ballerina must have affected the Danseur Noble, and for a moment he looked hopeful that she would channel this feeling into her dancing. He let the solemnity settle into his own face: he was about to leap out to find his lover dead, after all. He needed to be in the proper mode.

Helena took the first faltering steps onto the stage. Special effects filled the scene with fire; the fire of Iliad houses burning to the ground. The set designer had done his research to be sure. For a moment, Helena was there, standing in the sweltering, cobbled streets of her homeland. She took a deep breath, but the scent of invisible ash filled her nostrils. She heard screams that weren't real; cries for help she could not answer, echoes of desperation now dead on forever stilled lips.

Her people, gone forever into the land of Hades. Had Bags fulfilled his promise to perform the proper funeral rituals for them? Or did they wander now as shades, shades like the shadows of dancers around her, people she couldn't see clearly through glazed vision as they played the part of fleeing villagers covered in ash.

Soon she stood alone on stage. All the movement around her had slowed, as the dancers who had not fled made the mime for death, and lay still on the stage about her.

She lifted her arms toward them, as choreographed, as if trying to raise them up again. She gritted her teeth against the tears threatening to spill.

This isn't real, she reminded herself. This isn't them.

But it didn't matter. The dancers may not have actually been her subjects, but they represented something very real indeed.

"Oh gods, forgive me!" she screamed in sudden agony.

She plunged her dagger into her abdomen, curled about it, and fell.

"Well done, Yelene," Misha murmured. He and the cast stood entranced from the wings. Tears spilled freely from their eyes. "I knew you had it in you."

He entered, his face and posture the very picture of distress. She feebly raised her head to look at him, and he went to cradle her in his arms.

"Zoro…" she murmured, eyes straining to keep tears at bay. "I'm so sorry, Zoro. I never meant to hurt you on top of everyone else."

Getting into character! Good. – He didn't bother reminding her that it was a ballet so they should portray any feeling through gesture and not words. If this was what it took to get her to feel, then he wasn't about to put a stop to it.

This close to her he saw a depth of pain in her face that alarmed him. For a moment he wondered if she had actually stabbed herself. After all, she had insisted on replacing the prop dagger with one she said she'd bought in Ilium. It was actual sea stone apparently.

Thankfully he could see that the dagger rested by her side, not actually through her. She closed her eyes and pretended to perish, willing her trembling shoulders to be still.

"Akainu" then entered the scene. He wasn't actually a dancer. Just a large-built actor who resembled the actual Sakazuki admirably. He appeared to laugh at "Zoro"'s plight. The danseur leapt to his feet. Spinning once, he artistically drew all three katana and pointed them at his foe.

Yelene had insisted on this choreography. Balanchine had suggested they have the pirate try to run like a coward in the end, to juxtapose the righteous might of the Government over the moral weakness of pirates. The very thought seemed to wound Yelene to the core:

"Roronoa Zoro is a swordsman," she had explained, gesturing to her own swords. "Scars on the back are a swordsman's shame! He would never retreat! Anyway, it's far more romantic to have him fight for his love than to die abandoning her."

Misha had backed her up whole heartedly on that one. Besides, it meant they didn't have to change too much of the choreography from the Navy Officer role.

As Misha made to charge, The Admiral pointed at him, then made the mime for death. Before Misha could reach his person, "Akainu" appeared to blast him through the chest with a wave of magma. He fell beside Yelene, and placed an arm around her.

The audience burst into applause and the curtain fell.

Misha jumped upright. "Come on! We have to clear the stage for curtain call!"

Yelene didn't sit up right away. Curled around herself, she clutched at her face, her entire body shaking with emotion.

"Are you…are you ok?" Misha ventured, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Yelene let out a little moan. "They're…they're all gone. How could I survive when so many didn't?"

"The show is over, Yelene," Misha assured her. He could see the stage manager waving at them frantically.

Yelene sat upright quickly, face clear of tears but eyes full of pain.

"It's not over," she murmured, "Because we have two more weeks of shows." She looked at Misha, chest heaving as she forced herself to speak. "I-I don't think I can do that again."

He helped her to her feet and pulled her off the stage just in time for the curtain to rise again. As the principal dancers, they would be last to come out for their bow.

"You were phenomenal," Misha gushed, not sure what else to say to the clearly overwrought woman. "You'll get better with every show the more you let yourself be vulnerable like that."

"Not true," Yelena countered,chest still heaving as she took deep, steadying breathes. "You must have seen how I started stumbling about in the end. I can't emote and dance at the same time. And certainly not that last scene…"

"You'll get the hang of it," Misha reassured her, but he had to wonder what kind of battle she had lived through to leave her with such heavy survivor's guilt.

She forced a smile. Something about it said she really didn't want to get the hang of it, didn't want to put herself on the line like that again.

"I just hope that wasn't too hard for Ku…Kina to watch. It may have reminded her of…things from our past," she murmured, looking around for her daughter. "And seeing her mother die like that…wait a minute, where is she?"

Misha cast a glance back over his shoulder but couldn't see her. He did catch a glimpse of the snake nursemaid, Lady. A bunch of stage hands had her pinned down. When they saw Yelene looking their way, one started shouting at her:

"Your stupid snake tried to eat one of Balanchine's cats!"

He held the soaked, bedraggled and clearly shaken Twila in his arms. The cat mewled pitifully, and Lady let out a hiss.

"But where is my daughter…?" Helena started again. Lady turned to her and made a fresh bid for freedom. It took five stage hands to hold her down.

"We'll look for her in a second," Misha insisted, grabbing her arm and tugging her toward the stage, "That's our cue."

He had to drag her a bit to get her to stop looking into the wings over her shoulder as she entered for her final bow. The crowd gave her a standing ovation and rained roses at her feet, but she didn't seem to care. After giving a graceful reverence, or curtsey, to the Maestro, she then turned to do it toward the audience.

She stopped dead, her eyes staring straight ahead at the Nobles' Box.

It was empty.

No Rotherbart. No Kuina.

Panic paralyzed Helena for a moment, stopping her reverence mid curtsey. Stopping her very heart for all she could tell.

And then the panic gave way to rage:

"Where's my daughter?" she demanded.

"Yelene, wait til the curtain falls," Misha tried to insist.

"Where. Is. My. DAUGHTER?" she bellowed, drawing the Amazonian swords hidden as decorative belts about her waist. The applause from the crowd gave way to a confused silence, followed by awkward murmurs.

Lady slipped free of her captors at last, and rushed toward Helena. The ivory snake snatched the shaken Twila from the stage hand, and nabbed the plush green fox by its pink tutu along the way. Frantically, she held toy and cat toward the principal dancer.

And suddenly the dots started to connect.

"Balanchine," Helena growled.

Lady released the cat and nodded.

"I don't care how hungry you were, you would never try to eat an animal that Kuina had befriended," she said, throwing aside the use of Kuina's false name in her rage. "Those stupid cats helped him take her, didn't they?"

Lady nodded even more vigorously.

"BALANCHINE!" Helena bellowed. "WHAT IN HADES DID YOU DO?"

"Yelene, please!" Misha attempted, grasping her by the arm and trying to drag her off of the stage. Strong though he was, she wrenched her arm easily from his grasp. "I'm sure Kina is fine…!"

Helena caught sight of Balanchine up in the back corner of the otherwise empty nobles' box. He sat counting out berry bills from a suitcase balanced in his lap. So intent on his prize was he, that he didn't even notice the drama unfolding on stage.

"He sold her…" she murmured, the bottom of her stomach dropping out to make room for more burning rage inside her chest.

"What?" Misha spluttered.

"HOW DARE YOU!" Helena bellowed. "WRATH OF ZEUS!"

A smattering of applause rippled through the theater. Apparently they thought they were still getting a show when the woman playing the Sun Queen shot through the air like a streak of lightning, two swords and a dagger drawn. She crashed into the chairs of the box, smashing them aside until she stood over the now trembling cat man.

"Yelene, what do you think you are doing, nya?" he dared to ask in a tremulous voice.

"That is not my name, and you know it," she growled. "I don't know how you figured it out, but you are going to pay for what you've done. Where has he taken my daughter?"

"Who?" he squeaked.

"ANSWER ME!" Helena slashed the chair next to him, slicing it in two with threatening fervor.

"I don't know what you are talking about!"

Helena let out a primal yell, slicing the suitcase of money right out of his hands. He let out a yowl of dismay, reaching into the sudden snowfall of tattered bills as they fluttered down around him.

"TELL ME WHERE ROTHBART IS TAKING HER!" she bellowed, her sword now pointed to his throat.

"I don't know, nya!" he cried, trembling. "To Marie Jois, I imagine! But he said something about a m-m-m-marriage."

Helena could feel the haki bomb explode out of her, killing all the lights, knocking everyone in the theater out cold. It shook the building itself to its foundation. Balanchine flew back into the wall behind him, hitting it with an audible crack.

She walked up to his body and nudged it with her toe, lip trembling. Through the fading twilight coming through an enormous, stained glass window in the ceiling, she could make out blood trickling from his dark hair. He had a concussion at the very least. She hoped it had killed him.

Rage trembling through her, she raced out of the building and after her daughter. A nightlong, fruitless search had just begun.

Aboard the Thousand Sunny, Helena had to stop her tale. Trembling with rage, she could no longer speak. When at last she found her voice, her tone cracked as she fought to keep everything down:

"It is the worst fear of a parent; looking away for a moment only to find your child gone. It's like the feeling of missing a step on the way down the stairs, only a thousand times worse. Excuse me, I need to use the restroom."

She stood and walked out.

"Zoro, aren't you supposed to be carrying her everywhere?" Nami reminded the swordsman.

"She needs a minute alone," he said in a low voice. "I'm sure she'll be fine."

"But…"

"I said, she'll be fine," he repeated darkly.

Zoro didn't think he could look her in the face right now. He wanted to be understanding. Wanted to be forgiving. Wanted to tell her it wasn't her fault. But it was. She had lost their daughter while dancing. Dancing! And in front of a World Noble, no less. Not just any World Noble, either. Saint Rothbart! The very man who had wanted to marry Helena as a babe!

It was so irresponsible, so outside the realm of what Zoro believed Helena capable of doing that he had a hard time believing it. His face showed no emotion, but he felt all the same vivid anger toward her now as he had when he'd first discovered Kuina's brand.

The crew sat in silence, listening to the rain as they waited for Helena to return. When the minutes dragged on into a quarter of an hour, Sanji finally spoke:

"I think someone should check on her," he said, and they all looked at Zoro.

The swordsman sighed and stood.

Before long he found her. She had apparently collapsed onto the ground out in the hallway on her way back from the restroom. Guilt shot through him as he knelt over her and placed a hand on her shoulder:

"You ok?" he asked, as her eyes blinked open.

"What…what happened?"

"I think you fainted."

"Oh," Helena sat up, then leaned back against the wall. "I guess there's a reason Chopper said he wanted you carrying me everywhere. I thought I'd be fine."

"Has he told you what's wrong?"

"No, we haven't had a moment to talk yet, but I think…well, I haven't been able to keep much down, so…."

Zoro took a seat beside her. "You're telling me you just threw up?"

Helena nodded, glancing askance. "Don't tell Sanji. The food tasted fine, it's just…everything hurts my stomach these days. I don't feel hungry, but I know my body needs the food, so I force myself to eat, but it seems like it makes everything worse."

"How long have you been feeling this way?"

"I don't really know. I feel like it started after Ilium fell," Helena said, "Maybe before, but I just…I just kind of assume it's all the stress, you know?"

Zoro's brow furrowed. This explanation didn't make much sense to him. "You have been through a lot," he conceded.

Helena bowed her head.

"I don't know if I want to tell my story anymore," she murmured. "But it's Kuina's story too, you see. I feel like you at least need to know."

"You don't have to tell it in front of everyone," Zoro pointed out. "Or even keep telling it right now. We can pick this up tomorrow if you want."

"No, I don't think putting it off is a good idea," Helena said, her chest suddenly heaving. "Just, give me a minute."

"You gonna puke again?"

Helena shook her head and hid her face in her hands.

"Want me to get Chopper?"

Helena shook her head again, and let out a rough sob. She was crying.

Zoro placed his arm around her and she curled into him immediately with a desperation that said she was hoping he'd hold her but hadn't dared to ask. She could obviously tell he was still angry with her, despite his concern, and this gesture helped him show her that, angry or not, they would get through this.

As he listened to her tormented sobs, he realized how much she had had to hold inside for so long. He was her safe harbor now. And though he knew his anger was justified, he started to wonder if it had been necessary:

"Listen, Helena, I…"

"Don't say it," she choked out, cutting him off.

"Don't say what?" he asked, amused despite the gravity of the situation.

"Don't say that you're sorry."

"How did you know that I…?"

"Zoro," Helena curled into him tighter, as though in physical pain. There were still tears in her voice. "I do not deserve forgiveness, do you understand? My negligence didn't just hurt Kuina, either. Think of all the children just like her who are dead or displaced now because of me. I don't want your pity. I want your anger. I want all of their anger. I want to feel every ounce of it!"

Zoro shook his head. His anger had melted away completely now, her inner turmoil all the punishment she could possibly deserve.

"It's not all your burden to bear. I left, remember? Even hearing what Athena said to you through the Lotus. If I had stayed, none of this would have happened."

"I made you leave," Helena countered.

Zoro chuckled wryly. "Nah, you can't make me do anything, Beloved. Besides that, you're being awfully greedy here."

"Am I?" Helena retorted.

"You are always taking all of the credit for everything. Maybe you could learn to share for a change," he went on dryly. "After all, I had a hand in Ilium's fall, and so did your citizens. You get that, right? They supported your decisions. They were just as angry with the government as you after Troy, and after Regent! I am sure they did not go out blaming you."

"This wouldn't have happened under my father's watch," Helena insisted into his chest.

"Your father supported you too," Zoro pointed out, pulling away so he could look her in the face. "In the end, they agreed with your decisions. Anyone who blames you is a coward unwilling to accept their own culpability."

"Zoro, I am the one who angered the gods and lost Ilium its protection. That is something that neither my people nor my father ever supported."

"But it is something I support," Zoro growled, but then he sighed. "Helena, when will you learn that you can't keep shouldering all this alone?"

Helena looked up at him, the tears still staining her face. "Zoro, I believe that there are some sins…" she took in a shaky breath. "Some sins should not be forgiven…"

With the Opera House still out of power after Helena's Haki bomb, she found her former coworkers stood outside underneath a flickering street lamp, deep in conversation. When they saw her approach, a presence of palpable anger in the shadows, all of the dancers took a step back.

"Yelene!" Machovsky cried in melodious voice. "What on earth was all that? You nearly killed Balanchine! He's in the hospital now!"

"So, he's not dead," she replied in a flat voice. "Pity."

"What…?"

Lady slithered after her in the darkness. Her animal senses and deep love of Kuina hadn't been enough to aid Helena in her search with more than companionship. The serpent held as much anger in her lithe posture as Helena did. She hissed at the dancers from the darkness.

"You all did nothing," Helena murmured softly. "You let him take her."

"Let him take who?" Misha asked, voice trembling. "Yelene…"

"I AM NOT YELENE," Helena barked, her voice strong and military. "I am the real Helena de Zoro of the Line of Prometheus. I am a daughter of Ilium, and the deposed Queen of her charred walls."

The cast took to murmuring to one another. Helena didn't care if they believed her or thought her delusional and caught up in her role:

"My daughter, Kuina du Helena et Zoro, has been sold to the Celestial Dragons for her connection to the gods," she stated bitterly, "And you all stood by and did NOTHING as she was kidnapped. A child. A babe! You're not human."

"We didn't know," one of the other dancers gasped.

"No one saw it happen," a stage hand insisted.

"Yel…Helena…Your Majesty, please…" Misha attempted.

"DO NOT CALL ME THAT," she barked again, and Misha cowered. Further proof that he was not worthy to play the role he'd been given, the spineless milquetoast. "I am no longer a Queen."

She drew her sea stone dagger, and pulled out the flask that Mihawk had given her. She held it aloft toward the enormous opera house, darkened already by her anger.

"Mother, give me strength," she murmured, a drunken rage already burning in her eyes, even before she took a swig.

She stumbled, then looked at Misha and Machovsky, who stood rooted to the spot with horror while the others fled.

"You wanted to see me bear my soul?" she growled. "Let's see what you think of it now."

"I don't remember much. Destruction. Flames. Embers. It was like destroying the Temple of Hera all over again, I imagine, but my rage made my memory hazy," she explained in deadpan. "There were…there were people screaming though."

Rage and alcohol, Zoro amended in his mind, knowing she would never admit to having been drunk.

"Did you hurt anyone?" he asked.

"I have no idea," Helena replied staring at nothing. "Probably? I hope not. I realize now that they were not to blame, those performers. They were actually just as much victims it turns out. Balanchine would have sold any of them at the drop of a hat. He saw them as expendable."

She took in a heavy breath and looked up at him:

"I had always believed myself to be in control of my emotions. But apparently my rage can be more powerful than I have trained myself to contain, particularly with regard to my children."

"I can't say I fully understand the mother's instinct; however, I have noticed that you have spent your life suppressing, rather than channeling your emotions," Zoro told her frankly. "We can work on it together if you like."

"I fear I'm out of time," Helena replied softly.

Out of time?

"What?" Zoro shot her a confused look, and she backpedaled:

"I mean, I...it's too late, isn't it?" she fumbled, "I destroyed the Temple of Hera and doomed my country. I destroyed Saobody Opera House and possibly hurt innocents in the process."

"You can't change what's past," Zoro reminded her bluntly.

"Indeed," she agreed in a soft but gravid tone. "All I can do is try to atone for my mistakes."

Zoro didn't respond to this. On the surface, this seemed like an acceptable answer, but something about the way she said it worried him.

"Anyway, we should get back to the others," Helena insisted, nervous in his silence. "I…the next leg of the journey isn't pretty, but I'm almost done with my tale."

She made to stand, leaning heavily on the wall to pull herself upright. Zoro soon came to her aid, and though she tried to walk at first, he soon swept her up into his arms.

"Doctor's orders," he grunted.