One Piece fic-PoSM, Chapter 10
Title: The Psychology of a Shattered Mind
Chapter Title: Letter of Marque
Rating: PG-13/T
Characters: Usopp, Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, OCs.
Word Count: About 4.6k
Warnings: Disturbing imagery, implications of non-con/dub-con, and violence. Angsty Usopp and blatant excuse for nakama comfort. This will be intense. Possible spoilers for entire series. Jumps off from Usopp being stuck on the Bowin Islands.
Can also be found at FF.net here. If you want to comment it will be much loved, and feel free to do so here or over at FF.Net. I've begun to feel increasingly at home here on LJ. Con Crit loved also.
Chapter links (on LJ): Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15
You can hardly smell the sea in Mariejoa, and this, Adel thinks, is a pity. There is something about being close to the sea that gives the air a pleasant bit of zing and heaviness, and Mariejoa lacks that. Instead, the air fluctuates between crisp and cloying, not unlike those who live here.
But Mariejoa has many things that all the cities closer to the sea do not. It has the sprawling villas that are home to the Celestial Dragons. It has a plethora of strong marines constantly coming and going. It has all the finery and luxuries anyone could ever need. It has the ultimate power in this world-the World Government's HQ.
It has it all.
When the building stands partially shrouded by early morning mists, the roofs and spires loom distantly above, unmoving, like the peaks of mountains, and it's impossible to imagine that anyone could attack it with any measure of success. The palace is powerful. Intimidating. A silent warning of the all the strength that can be brought to bear on the rebellious. That to defy such power would be idiocy-or worse.
It is a symbol that even Fisher Tiger couldn't destroy. Much of the city burned the day that that fishman came, but the HQ building had stood. It had stood as a partially charred shell, yes, but it stood, as had the World Government and the Celestial Dragons, and that was what mattered. Now the only mark of his coming that remains is the very small number of mermaids and fishmen enslaved by Celestial Dragons, in comparison to how many there had been a little over a decade ago. As far as all the Celestial Dragons now are concerned, he was a falling star that succeeded but at little while, then burned out in the face of their strength. For the slaves … he is no more than a name. Yet she still smells the smoke in dreams some nights, and thinks about the day that everything could have changed, but didn't.
Turning a corner, she brings a wide smile to her face as the security men in black suits come into view. Although she casts her eyes to the floor as soon as she stops, she inclines her head to the man on the right and gives a short curtsy.
She hears the man click on the transponder snail. "Lady Adel requests an audience with Saint Gathram."
"Acknowledged," a static-filled voice responds after a long moment. "Saint Gathram says her visit is most welcome."
The man on the left opens one of the double doors and bows slightly. Adel lifts her skirt so that the hem doesn't sit so disconcertingly close to the floor. Saint Gathram will like it; the newest creation of her tailor, it has a train and too many ruffles in pale blue and silver to be at all practical. With one last check that no stray locks have come loose from the matching snood that gathers up her hair, she steps through the doorway.
Even though Adel doesn't look to the right for a moment, she can feel Saint Venosa's eyes glaring as she walks toward Saint Gathram. The other woman is no doubt at her desk, her legs crossed and propped up on her footrest-slave; just like always, she'll have a book in her hand but whether she actually reads anything worthwhile-whether she actually reads at all-is questionable. Adel keeps the smile on her face as wide as possible, trying to ignore the way her throat seems to be closing in on itself at the thought of Saint Venosa. She does not let her gaze stray from Gathram. As long as she does that, she will not falter.
Adel steps up to the large plush chair that Saint Gathram is lounging in, wearing a high-collared robe of white trimmed with gold. He watches her approach with the faintest of smiles, see as they are in the holy city, there is no helmet getting in the way of his expression. Wife twenty-she really needs to learn the woman's name, the lady certainly has been here long enough for that-waits in attendance with a tray of fruit. Wife thirty-one sits at Gathram's feet, her long blonde hair cascading down her back and pooling on the floor. Gathram idly strokes thirty-one's head as he watches Adel's approach. Adel doesn't look at thirty-one too closely, but she registers the dark circles under the other woman's eyes and frowns inwardly. Thirty-one is stone-still under Gathram's hand.
Not much longer for her now, then. Even with natural beauty, a broken-hearted woman only holds her lord's attentions for so long. Such a waste of a pretty woman …
Adel curtseys deeply, her skirts swishing as she spreads them wide.
This is how you do it, don't you see? The world could be yours if you'd only please him.
"Adel, darling, come here and sit," Saint Gathram says, lifting both arms in a beckoning gesture.
Let him have a taste of you … She leaps up into his lap without a moment's pause, breaking out into a wide grin. Circling her arms around his neck, she plants a quick kiss on his lips. "You're such a kind father, to let Iddis have his very own slave-and what an interesting one too! Can you believe that nose?"
Charm him with silliness and gaiety and unbridled admiration …
"Nose? Ah. Yes, that."
"I was disappointed that he doesn't have a nose ring or a nose bone, however. I thought he was supposed to be an island native," she says, sticking out her lower lip a little.
One of Saint Gathram's eyebrow quirks up, creasing the lines in his forehead. "Nose-bone?" He snorts, but it's close to a chuckle. "Then I suppose you'll have to suggest having one put in to Iddis," he says, stroking with the edge of a finger what little hair is uncovered between the band and her hairline, then lingering at the band itself, teasing and testing it, looking for any looseness. But Adel knows him far too well after all these years, and has secured the whole piece firmly, so that Saint Gathram will have to go to a little more effort than that to get at what he wants.
Without warning he brings his lips to hers again, and this time the kiss is longer and deeper. Gathram presses her closer with a hand on her back; Adel can taste the strawberry and sweet wine on his lips. She almost forgets how many others are there watching.
He breaks away, but lingers close, his forehead to hers. "Come see me tonight," he whispers.
She entwines his free hand with his. "Of course," she whispers back, and lingers a few moments more, leaning against his chest as he strokes the back of her neck softly. At length she sighs and, pulling back, says, "… I should be getting back to Saint Iddis. He'll be hungry for dinner soon. You can't trust mere bodyguards to look after a child properly."
Gathram nods, and she disentangles herself, backing away in a half bow.
"Make sure he isn't giving that thing any delusions of grandeur, my dear," Saint Gathram adds, almost as an afterthought, so that she has to pause in her exit. "No feeding the thing from his own plate. New slaves needs to learn their place. This one seems remarkably meek but if he tries anything, you know what to do."
Adel curtsies again. "Certainly, my lord. I have been carrying my gun and collar activator."
Gathram smiles. "As usual, you are insightful on all matters. I shall be expecting reports on how things are coming along."
No doubt he'll want to know about how both Iddis and the new slave are behaving toward each other. He's never taken risks with his son. One last curtsy of confirmation, and Saint Gathram dismisses her with a nod, even as he motions for twenty to bring the fruit tray closer.
She's almost to the door when Saint Venosa calls out after her, tone dripping saccharine, "Oh dearest Kitten, will you really leave without greeting your lady?"
Adel wants to freeze, to really hesitate before stopping, but she can't afford that with Saint Venosa, so she squashes the notion. Instead she gathers up her skirts once more and gives a small curtsy. "I should not dream of it, except that you seemed so involved in your reading that I was quite loathe to interrupt."
"Nonsense." Saint Venosa waves her free hand, uncrossing and then crossing her feet the other way. They remain propped up on her footrest-slave, the long split up her skirt leaving her legs exposed well past her knees. Her high heels shape her feet elegantly. "When else would I have a chance to inquire about the health of my own son?"
Again Adel bristles inwardly, and again she has to squash it. Fortunately she has a good deal of practice at ignoring her first instincts, so her reply comes easily and evenly enough. "How kind of his mother to express such concern! I assure you he is quite well-"
Saint Venosa lets out an irritated hiss as her feet take a sudden, brief dip. Of all times to let your arms give out, Adel thinks, taking care not to look down too much, instead focusing on a point on the wall just above Saint Venosa's head. Still, it's easy to tell that Saint Vanosa now is slamming her heel into the footrest-slave's side, cursing under her breath. Adel twitches inwardly but the footrest only makes a strangled, choking sound. When Saint Venosa's vehemence seems to wane, Adel lets her eyes drift down. Small drops of blood are starting to spot the floor.
"He might so enjoy a visit from you-" Adel says, clasping her hands and smiling widely. Saint Venosa pauses in her kicking and even glances at Adel, before glaring at the slave again. Adel takes that as Saint Venosa's blessing and continues on. "-And it would give him a chance to show off his very first purchase."
Saint Venosa shoves the slave over with her foot, then quirks an eyebrow and purses her lips, suspicion evident. "Is he that enamored? I suppose I should, then. After all, how will my son know how to treat slaves if he does not see enough good examples?"
"Indeed," Adel nods, refusing to let herself look down again. Irritation wars with the sick feeling of her stomach curling in on itself.
"Very well then," Venosa says, opening her book once more. "I may visit on the 'morrow, if it suits my schedule. Carry on, Kitten. Tell the guards to clean this waste off the floor." Venosa motions with her foot at the collapsed slave, who doesn't seem to have moved. Maybe she's unconscious. Maybe she simply doesn't dare it. "And send another slave from my reserves. I'll expect her here in the next fifteen minutes"
"I will," Adel says with a final curtsy, finally deeming it safe to turn and leave. She notifies the guards and then heads down to Venosa's personal chambers, which the "reserves" should be finishing up the daily cleaning. By time she arrives she's already decided who to send-the twenty-something with a braid of long black hair down her back. Venosa bought her last winter, so she must be the one longest here.
Adel sighs. It's a pity and a boon that Venosa's slaves are never around long enough to make learning their names worthwhile.
Luffy had planned to move his full attention to the problem of the cannonballs once the last invader was enthusiastically ejected from the ship. However, now that he has gotten a moment to figure out where the cannon fire is actually coming from, he realizes the onslaught has already stopped with as little ceremony as it started-not that the invaders themselves had been much of a fight to begin with. They were kinda disappointing, actually, since this was the New World, and he didn't even break a sweat. Even if it was only the first island on the surface, after Fishman Island Luffy'd been expecting better.
Brook, meandering over while twirling his resheathed cane-sword on one arm, grins down at Luffy, a gleam in his dark eye-sockets. "Splendid work, if I may say so myself," he comments, finishing one last twirl and setting the cane's end down on the deck with a thunk.
Luffy gives him a grin back as unease settles in the pit of his stomach. His hand twitches, and he ponders what could be the source of this feeling. At last his grin fades into a frown. Turning, Luffy scans the grey-white haze shrouding the line between sea and sky, and it occurs to him that there should be a big ship or island that these attackers could come from, yet he doesn't remember seeing anything. Maybe he missed it?
"Master Luffy?"
He scratches under his hat. Would Brook have noticed this sort of thing? Maybe he should ask-
The door to the galley bangs open. "Luffy!"
He whips around. That note in Sanji's voice solidifies the unease into alarm, and thoughts of enemy ships fall from his mind.
"Luffy-" Sanji seems to notice Brook's presence then, and he glances between the two, his gaze hardening. "Brook. Get Chopper. Tell him it's-" he pauses here, and glances down briefly. "-it's Usopp. He's not so bad physically, but he's really damn shaken up."
"Oh my, yes, at once!" Brook says.
Sanji continues, "Luffy-"
Luffy'd started moving at the it's Usopp. Even as Sanji addresses him, he is already at the doorway, intent on the sick bay beyond the galley. Their shoulders knock against each other, and Sanji stumbles back with little resistance, silent.
Luffy gets a few more steps before the wrongness hits him full-force and he freezes. Sanji-
He looks back. Sanji's staring out the door still, even though Brook is long gone. Lifting a lighter to the cigarette between his lips, Sanji shields the flame from the wind with the other hand. Luffy blinks and cocks his head to the side, not liking the way his cook is hanging back. "Hey, aren't you coming?"
The lighter disappears into a pocket. Sanji takes a deep draw from his cigarette and exhales, then answers with an absent wave, the cigarette between two fingers. "No … no, I'll just…"
"Just what?" Luffy presses, narrowing his eyes.
That, at last, is sufficient to drag Sanji's full attention from his thoughts-broody thoughts for sure-but then he mutters, still not turning from the doorway, "… get some drinks…"
Luffy is puzzled, but not against drinks if he gets to drink some of them. He is about to question what Sanji means exactly when he straightens, and adds a little more firmly, "I'll make something hot; Nami-san's probably freezing, trying to navigate in this weather." Sanji turns, slamming the galley door hard against the wind, and heads over to the stove top. "You go ahead." Luffy watches in silence as Sanji begins filling up a large kettle and sets it on the stove. There's a beat before the cook looks over, expression unamused, and he says with some heat: "If you don't get in there now you won't even be able to get near him until Chopper's done fussing."
Luffy grins. Everyone's acting a little off these days, but the plain-old, perfectly normal irritation in Sanji's voice is satisfactory for now, he supposes. "Make me some meat snacks," Luffy says. "I'm hungry."
Sanji's expression sours even more. "I'll make you your snacks when I'm good and ready," he snaps, the hell no, you useless piece of rubber there in his tone. Like it should be.
But Luffy is pleased to see that Sanji's already moving toward the refrigerator door.
Robin looks at him when he comes in, like she might look at a book, seeking and scanning until she finds exactly what she's looking for (when she does, who knows what will happen next. It's usually impossible to tell what she's even looking for in the first place, let alone what she wants with it. Robin looks for things Luffy wouldn't even dream of, but the usually turn out to be important, so this is true for him, at least: that's why they have Robin, to know to go looking for things that they don't even realize are lost yet.)
But after a moment Robin nods, gliding past him and out into the galley in silence.
"Usopp?" Luffy takes in a breath and holds it for a moment, cocking his head at the lump in a yellow coat and familiar brown overalls curled up on the bed. Muffled crying pauses before Usopp, who is pressing some sort of white cloth to the side of his face, curls up even tighter.
Luffy shrugs out of his coat as he approaches, draping it over the back of Chopper's chair. He's slow to come and sink onto the edge of the bed to the right of Usopp, neither as far or as close as he can get. From here he notices that Usopp's boots are dotted with drops of melted water and his overalls are damp on the cuffs. So he was definitely outside, and it's the fighting that's freaked him out like this. Luffy crosses his legs and waits.
Usopp doesn't say anything, just goes on crying and sniffling and Luffy slips his hat from his head, fingering the edges and staring into the crown. It's not like Luffy particularly needs to hear what Usopp's thinking or feeling, but it's not very Usopp-like to say nothing at all. And out of all the things that are wrong right now, this seems like one of the most wrong to Luffy. That and the fact that Usopp doesn't tell stories anymore. Come to think of it, that is probably even more wrong for Usopp than not talking in the first place.
Now that they've gotten rid of the bad guys and the bad things and it still hasn't helped, there are only a few more things that Luffy can think to do, and just maybe he can fit one of them in before Chopper gets here.
Taking his hat by the crown, he moves to set it on Usopp's hip-not too fast, not too slow. Luffy doesn't want to freak him out but he doesn't want him not to notice, either. Usopp props himself up on his left elbow almost as soon as it touches down. The movement dislodges the hat, and Usopp has to grab for the rim, which causes him to drop the cloth pressed to the left side of his face.
"Luffy-wha-" The drop reveals the swelling around his eye-it'll probably become a pretty impressive shiner-and an assortment of cuts, a few of them deep and jagged, most of them starting to ooze blood not long after the cloth is dropped. Moving into a sitting position, he leaves the hat in his lap and takes up the cloth again. He looks away, new tears still forming and dripping down. "Why-why are you … ?"
Luffy stares up at the ceiling while he thinks about something about the hat to get Usopp started with. Looking up like this, it occurs to Luffy that Franky did a really good job on this ship, just like everything else he builds. The grooves are tight and straight … and it's impossible to count the lines in the grain of the wood, they're so close together and never ending. That tree that must have grown up big and strong for years and years …
"It's good at keeping secrets," Luffy says, finally, realizing he'd almost completely drifted off somewhere else.
"W-what?" Usopp asks, like he hadn't quite been paying attention for a moment, either.
Luffy grabs onto his ankles and rocks forward and back a little, elaborating with some care. "The hat, of course. It always listens. Likes to hear stories. It prefers the happy ones, of course, but it doesn't mind some sad ones every once in a while, either."
Here Luffy pauses, trying to decide how Usopp now feels about the hat. And stories! That's actually the important part. But Usopp just looks confused and still on the verge of more tears, so Luffy grins big and wide and sure, something Usopp probably needs to see. "You can hold onto the hat for a while. Maybe you'll have something to say to it later."
Usopp looks away, scrubbing at his face with one hand and then taking up the cloth again. He shakes his head slowly, eyes looking a some point far off beyond the sick bay wall. "I…I don't…"
Luffy blinks, wriggling his toes. There's black stuff stuck under his big toenail so he starts digging at it. It would be difficult with his fingernails this short but the funny thing is, even his toenails are kinda stretchy. You'd think he'd be used to it by now but at the moment it's as fun as the first time he'd realized they did that. Usopp's trying to put the hat into Luffy's lap now, but Luffy pushes it away and keeps busy picking, at least until Usopp goes silent and stops.
Luffy glances up occasionally, but the silence begins to stretch out as Usopp stares off at something it seems only he can see, the crown of the hat looking slightly squashed in Usopp's tense hand. Luffy wonders what's taking Chopper-not that it really matters, but he shouldn't he have come screaming by now? … Huh. Probably needed to treat someone else first.
"I thought … everyone's always coming, hunting, and it seemed … " Luffy looks up without lifting his head, but now Usopp is staring hard down into the hat's crown. "I didn't-I couldn't-and then…" His voice drops to a hoarse whisper. "… and I just left them there. Now-now they're probably all…"
Usopp's hand is clamped on the crown so tight that Luffy is inwardly cringing, but he knows Usopp doesn't mean to hurt it-and his hat it tougher than that, anyway-so he grips his ankles and makes himself listen. Still, whatever had prompted Usopp to talk fades. His grips loosens and the hat drops onto the bed. Usopp curls his free arm around his legs and presses his forehead to his knees.
"I don't want to tell you about it anymore."
Luffy frowns, uncertain. It's not really that surprising, since it kinda seemed like Usopp'd been trying to tell multiple stories all at once. "That's okay," Luffy says, and he thinks it sounds rather mild, which is good.
Then that awful silence reigns again, and Luffy hates it more than ever. He wants to scream and tear at this heaviness that muffles everything like a thick blanket, until Usopp's all right again and they can't shut him up, even if they want to.
But Usopp-all the thing that are wrong need time to heal. To Luffy there's all the time in the world, but he knows that not all the crew feels the same.
The door opening so fast that its thud against the wall jolts both of them to attention. Chopper's hooves clip-clop on the floor in a nervous rhythm as the wide-eyed reindeer starts a few sentences, something about Robin that sounds like some sort of explanation and several that are simply fretting, though he then doesn't finish them. Finally, however, something seems to click and Chopper hurries over to Usopp, swinging the door to the kitchen shut as he does. "Let me see. What happened? What'd you do?"
Luffy watches, chuckling, as Chopper moves with a decisive assurance, one that leaves Usopp too surprised to even think of protest or withdrawal. By time Luffy's risen from the bed Chopper's already finished his prognosis and begun cleaning most of the scrapes.
Leaving the hat where it is, Luffy ambles over to the door to the aft deck, to the outside. Usopp should hang onto the hat for a bit, Luffy decides, at least until he figures out what else to say to it. Maybe he just needs some time to think the story through. In any case, it seems good to leave the hat with Usopp for a while. It's a lucky hat. It'll look out for him.
Luffy needs a moment to himself to think. There's something about that story that's bothering him now. He can't put his finger on it, but maybe if he has a chance to mull it over….
Once he's let the door shut behind him, he notices Zoro is out here, looking out at the curtain of snow with a hand resting on the hilt of the foremost katana at his hip. Luffy is surprised and yet not surprised to find him waiting. Like opening a present and finding out it was the one you put on your list all along, the you-should-have-seen-it-coming sort of surprise.
"Zoro?"
Turning his head a little in Luffy's direction, Zoro nods.
Luffy comes over to Zoro's side and rests his forearms on the railing. He eyes the stray flakes blowing in close enough that maybe if he just stretched his neck a little, he could catch them in his mouth.
Zoro sighs, his breath a small white puff in the cold. He seems about to say something, but pauses when he looks at Luffy. Then there's a moment of consideration … then, something in Zoro's gaze pulls back. "…This didn't go well," he says finally, tone nothing more than factual. Luffy kinda wonders what Zoro changed his mind about, but then decides he probably wouldn't have liked it for some reason.
Luffy blinks at him. "We beat 'em, didn't we? Usopp's a little freaked and he kinda took some bad knocks but…"
Zoro gives a slight shake of his head, his hand tightening on the hilt of Wadō. "I've been below. Robin told me about what happened with Usopp. There's something down in the hold you need to see, and you need to see it before the rest of the crew does."
The look Zoro gives him now is the only convincing Luffy really needs.
Continued in Chapter 11: Ring the Bell