A King Named Miles - Nami
Who: Nami of the Edelverse
What: A conversation with Miles Edgeworth reminded her of her times around a young King to be named Miles. This is that story. Rough Drafted with no beta testing or editing.
When: Nami at age 16 to 17
Rating: PG - 13? 17? I donno.
It had been easy to get aboard the King’s ship, which was more then surprising. She was just sixteen years old and had already gathered a lot of money for her cause, but this trip expected to be the mother load. If she won her goal here, she’d be done with her goals, win her village back, and all would be right again. She could leave the Arlong pirates and be happy.
Today though, today was the day. She had put on the best she could find in local wear, showed up for a call for the King. Some king of some small island wishing to have entertainment on his ship, his voyage to another island some ways away. Entertainers were needed, as were dances. And Dancer she would be. Wearing the best possible cleavage showing attire, her hips nearly bare, and a sway in her walk, she managed to be as alluring as she possibly could. There were 20 of them all trying to catch his eye, but as the King himself, an outrageous looking man appeared he selected just four girls, Nami included.
As the trip began, she was escorted with the three others to a room they would share, clothing for each of them, and a rule that they shell always be dressed ready to please. Nami never realized what exactly she had gotten herself into. While the other three girls coo’ed over their chance to be the Kings personal dancer for a night, she herself was attempting to take count of how many guards where here, what kind of ship it was, how exactly to get what she wanted and where the treasure was held at.
It never occurred to her that she would have to play at this charade.
“Bring the orange haired one.” She heard someone at the door say, then two guards showed up, pointing at her. “The King will have you first.” One said, pointing a long meaty finger at her. Surprised by this she nodded, pulling her vial around her face and hooked on her ear. Walking with such a sway, she followed them, getting into her role as easily as she could. It was evening and the King wanted entertainment. Meanwhile she planed to figure out the lay of his room, and what goodies she could swipe from there too.
When she arrived, the kin lay in his red velvet bed, stretched out, half dressed and lazy, resting there, waiting. “You may leave her now. Be gone.” He said, waving a hand off at the guars. King Edwardo the 4th, son of King Milton the 5th. He was a rotund man, with a beard of blue and a crown so big it fell over his eyes. His voice dipped with boredom and sarcasm, his eyes roamed in all the wrong places on her body. She didn’t like it, but she stayed in role.
The King said dance, and so she did, a sway of the hips, a curve of her back, her arms moving gracefully, telling a story almost as they moved. She got into it, dancing like this was easy, as it was just a form of artistic expression. Sure, as a child all she did was run about in daisy chain dances or on occasion stood on the feet of Mr. Genzo as he tried to teach her to slow dance. Wild dances were silly and easy, but this was graceful, fluid in movement and step. She was nearly enchanting with how her hips moved, or her belly danced, her hands waved.
It had caught the attention of the king as well. While she danced, she moved around the room, getting an idea of the lay out, where keys were, and gold, and treasures, and all. But as she was moving, his eyes stayed on her, hungrily. Before she knew it, and as she was closer to the bed, he had grabbed her, pulling her down to the bed, down to him, and holding her there, hands on her hips. Startled she let out a small scream, but had it fizzle out as his lips covered hers.
She fought for a moment, trying to break away, but his large hands were on hers before she could react, before she could move. Her heart thumped, beat hard and raced. Oh hell, what had she gotten herself into! He was mauling her now, barely giving her a moment to breath, his tongue invading her mouth, his hands invading… other places. She fought, and started to cry. This was not good, and she felt helpless again, which was a feeling she despised.
Just then the King’s door opened, and a young man came in. This was… the disturbance that she needed. The distraction she wanted.
“Father!” the young man yelped out, glaring darkly at the large King of a man. “What are you doing!? We’ve barely left port and already you are cheating on mother?!” the young prince looked at them both on the bed, clearly seeing the fear and distress on her face. He waved a hand, telling her to come here, to which she, once the King’s hands broadly dropped from her, ran and did. She scampered to the door, pulling her clothing, what little there was of it, back on, over a shoulder, over a hip, fixing a hoop that held it all on. Her hands ran over her face, over her mouth and eyes, drying them. The Prince had told his father off, talking to him, telling him that he could at least wait till they were away from home a day or so.
After the two exchanged words, and the King scowled at the little Dancer Nami, she was then escorted out of the kings room… and to the Prince’s room. Her belly felt full of doom once again, but she followed. There was no good way out of here, and swimming didn’t sound appealing. Besides, she needed to steal their treasures to finish her debt to the village.
“I am sorry for what my father must have done to you.” The prince said softly, closing the door behind them, locking it, and moving to a closet. He pulled out a long silk robe, and draped it over her shoulders, helper her arms in, and turned the stunned Nami around to tie the belt around her front then back, a bow hidden behind her. She was covered and warm now. After this he offered her a chair, to sit in, then took one himself, at a table.
After today’s event’s she was very lost on what was going on here, and sat there silent, watching him. It took a bit, but as he offered her an apple to eat and water to drink, she… nodded, taking it, and curled up watching him. He was a pretty young man, dark blonde hair, fairly long and shiny, almost golden. Heh ad silver eyes though, and pearly white teeth. He was good looking, but also tired looking. None the less he held himself as gracefully as he could in her presence.
“As soon as I heard he took a dancer within his chambers, I knew there would be trouble. I came as soon as I could. I do hope… you can forgive him. He’s not exactly the best of men when it comes to the ladies, but he’s not a bad king either.” This wasn’t exactly true, as the King was known for all sorts of unscrupulous things, but she made no note of that.
For the rest of the evening they talked. He never once touched her, nor did h look at her indecently. His name was Miles, the 2ed son of the King, and he seemed to hate his life, or so Nami could tell. He spoke of lots of things, about travels and political things. He spoke of how if his father died, he’d be the hair, but his dimwitted older brother, a revolutionary wanted to destroy the kingdom.
His stories were interesting, and for the next 5 nights Nami was brought to his chambers, given a robe and a soft seat, and they talked. She grew to like him, very much, and wanted to help him in any way he could, though there wasn’t much she could do for him. They were nearly at their destination, and she would be left at the next port for what ever else work she needed to do. It was tonight, or never, she decided. To steal the boat and drop it’s people off near an island would be hard to do single handed, but she could. Or… could she.
For some reason she wanted to help the prince though. He was kind and caring, and talked of good things, talked of freedom for his kingdom and an end all to the war. She heard others talk of the prince as well, a wide eyes green behind the ears political figure that was more desired then the rotund king they had. The longer she kept her ears out the more she realized the Prince was sorely loved and the King was despised.
She… couldn’t steal the ship, in the end. They reached port, and the entertainers were free to go, paid what they needed for pay and let lose. She however was… asked to stay, by the Prince himself. A offer she could easily refuse, for the gold they gave her was well off for now, but not enough. She took the offer though, not knowing why. She didn’t LIKE helping others out like this, and the King was still a slimy asshole that she wanted nothing to do with. None the less, she stayed on, masquerading as Prince Miles’ personal dancer.
For six months she stayed with the group of people, she stayed hidden from the King at all chances, and stayed wit the Prince, telling stories, hearing them, never having to dance for him. She learned of his plans, to take out the King, to end it all and save the people. She told no one. She said nothing to anyone, and even gave ideas to help. She had already mapped out the place they were at, at the moment. She had already figured where she had to go to steal the riches, and how to get it out of there too.
But after 6 months she had really grown attached to the young Prince, enjoying the visits to his chambers, the stories, the glances and looks she received. It was almost heart breaking to know she had to steal everything from him the day of his revolution. The day he over threw the King and took over a country. That was the plan at least, to use the distraction to get what she wanted. Even if it meant taking it from this very nice Prince Miles.
This was were all the trouble came for her though. The night before the revolt, the Prince asking her to his chambers once last time. He was a gentleman about everything and had never touched her once, but today he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her in a hug, whispering that “I am so grateful to have met you, My Nami.” His voice soft, head tilted into hr hair, just holding her. It made her tummy flop and flip, the sound of him calling her ‘My Nami” made her feel sick, hearing Arlong’s voice for a moment. But the feel of being held close was… new. Nice. And heartbreaking.
After so much time, he had asked her to stay the night, to share his bed, to stay in this Kingdom and be adored. It hurt, a lot, to know what she had to do. She’d nearly give it all up for him at this moment, held close and wanted. To be wanted, in this way, was something she’d not known. To be wanted and loved at all was rare and normally fleeting. She had to… choose.
Home or Here.
That night she made her choice and danced for him. She danced with grace and care, for a while telling him a lovely story with her hands and body, her movements. She fell into bed with him that night and stayed. She stayed until the morning, to which she woke to the news that the King was dead, Long live the Prince Miles. She had known the plans. It wasn’t Miles doing, but he knew it would happen. She knew he would feel bad about it happening, but knew he’d be better for the lands too. She told no one.
Dressed before anyone noticed, Nami left a note. The note was simple, a kiss of red, and a few words of good bye. He had already known she would refuse his offer. He knew he couldn’t catch the waves upon the shore. She’d taken a few things, it seemed just enough to get by, and at the port she left the island and the new King Miles to his things.
She took no reward, and stole no coin or gold. It was a sad day. Stories though, she stole his stories, though they were willingly given.
Months later, back at Arlong’s Park, she sat, curled up at her desk, hand bleeding, sore and red from days of writing, drawing maps. She had been so busy for Arlong once again that she had barely taken a break. Nothing. She came back with nearly nothing. Nothing but a few trinkets here and there to show for her time. Nothing but memories.
New had traveled to Cocoyoshi island, about the celebrations of King Miles, his suitor, a Princess from a near by Island, and their new beautiful lands. The island prospered, and she was happy. Once in a while she’d receive a letter, a small thank you tucked inside, and a note of missing her, but other then that she never bothered to see him again. She kept an ear out for him and his tails, but that was all she kept of the King that was called Miles.
Years later, it would please her to know, and meet, another kind man named Miles as well. Something that always made her smile. No matter how much he hated it when she used his first name, and how rude he felt she was for it, it made her happy to say it. A good reminder of better times in such a dark place. It also helped that he was a good friend as well.
Nami has never danced since that last night with the Prince, and even goes so far as to say she can’t though it’s not true. She’s started to believe it herself that she cant and even when a sweet young white knight among a dark and evil setting asks for her hand in a dance, she finds it hard to do and flutters a lot. She doesn’t know how to dance like a normal human does, and tends to step upon their toes often, but with some, it’s fun. She tries, and doesn’t do bad, but she will never dance again like before.
Not like before.
What: A conversation with Miles Edgeworth reminded her of her times around a young King to be named Miles. This is that story. Rough Drafted with no beta testing or editing.
When: Nami at age 16 to 17
Rating: PG - 13? 17? I donno.
It had been easy to get aboard the King’s ship, which was more then surprising. She was just sixteen years old and had already gathered a lot of money for her cause, but this trip expected to be the mother load. If she won her goal here, she’d be done with her goals, win her village back, and all would be right again. She could leave the Arlong pirates and be happy.
Today though, today was the day. She had put on the best she could find in local wear, showed up for a call for the King. Some king of some small island wishing to have entertainment on his ship, his voyage to another island some ways away. Entertainers were needed, as were dances. And Dancer she would be. Wearing the best possible cleavage showing attire, her hips nearly bare, and a sway in her walk, she managed to be as alluring as she possibly could. There were 20 of them all trying to catch his eye, but as the King himself, an outrageous looking man appeared he selected just four girls, Nami included.
As the trip began, she was escorted with the three others to a room they would share, clothing for each of them, and a rule that they shell always be dressed ready to please. Nami never realized what exactly she had gotten herself into. While the other three girls coo’ed over their chance to be the Kings personal dancer for a night, she herself was attempting to take count of how many guards where here, what kind of ship it was, how exactly to get what she wanted and where the treasure was held at.
It never occurred to her that she would have to play at this charade.
“Bring the orange haired one.” She heard someone at the door say, then two guards showed up, pointing at her. “The King will have you first.” One said, pointing a long meaty finger at her. Surprised by this she nodded, pulling her vial around her face and hooked on her ear. Walking with such a sway, she followed them, getting into her role as easily as she could. It was evening and the King wanted entertainment. Meanwhile she planed to figure out the lay of his room, and what goodies she could swipe from there too.
When she arrived, the kin lay in his red velvet bed, stretched out, half dressed and lazy, resting there, waiting. “You may leave her now. Be gone.” He said, waving a hand off at the guars. King Edwardo the 4th, son of King Milton the 5th. He was a rotund man, with a beard of blue and a crown so big it fell over his eyes. His voice dipped with boredom and sarcasm, his eyes roamed in all the wrong places on her body. She didn’t like it, but she stayed in role.
The King said dance, and so she did, a sway of the hips, a curve of her back, her arms moving gracefully, telling a story almost as they moved. She got into it, dancing like this was easy, as it was just a form of artistic expression. Sure, as a child all she did was run about in daisy chain dances or on occasion stood on the feet of Mr. Genzo as he tried to teach her to slow dance. Wild dances were silly and easy, but this was graceful, fluid in movement and step. She was nearly enchanting with how her hips moved, or her belly danced, her hands waved.
It had caught the attention of the king as well. While she danced, she moved around the room, getting an idea of the lay out, where keys were, and gold, and treasures, and all. But as she was moving, his eyes stayed on her, hungrily. Before she knew it, and as she was closer to the bed, he had grabbed her, pulling her down to the bed, down to him, and holding her there, hands on her hips. Startled she let out a small scream, but had it fizzle out as his lips covered hers.
She fought for a moment, trying to break away, but his large hands were on hers before she could react, before she could move. Her heart thumped, beat hard and raced. Oh hell, what had she gotten herself into! He was mauling her now, barely giving her a moment to breath, his tongue invading her mouth, his hands invading… other places. She fought, and started to cry. This was not good, and she felt helpless again, which was a feeling she despised.
Just then the King’s door opened, and a young man came in. This was… the disturbance that she needed. The distraction she wanted.
“Father!” the young man yelped out, glaring darkly at the large King of a man. “What are you doing!? We’ve barely left port and already you are cheating on mother?!” the young prince looked at them both on the bed, clearly seeing the fear and distress on her face. He waved a hand, telling her to come here, to which she, once the King’s hands broadly dropped from her, ran and did. She scampered to the door, pulling her clothing, what little there was of it, back on, over a shoulder, over a hip, fixing a hoop that held it all on. Her hands ran over her face, over her mouth and eyes, drying them. The Prince had told his father off, talking to him, telling him that he could at least wait till they were away from home a day or so.
After the two exchanged words, and the King scowled at the little Dancer Nami, she was then escorted out of the kings room… and to the Prince’s room. Her belly felt full of doom once again, but she followed. There was no good way out of here, and swimming didn’t sound appealing. Besides, she needed to steal their treasures to finish her debt to the village.
“I am sorry for what my father must have done to you.” The prince said softly, closing the door behind them, locking it, and moving to a closet. He pulled out a long silk robe, and draped it over her shoulders, helper her arms in, and turned the stunned Nami around to tie the belt around her front then back, a bow hidden behind her. She was covered and warm now. After this he offered her a chair, to sit in, then took one himself, at a table.
After today’s event’s she was very lost on what was going on here, and sat there silent, watching him. It took a bit, but as he offered her an apple to eat and water to drink, she… nodded, taking it, and curled up watching him. He was a pretty young man, dark blonde hair, fairly long and shiny, almost golden. Heh ad silver eyes though, and pearly white teeth. He was good looking, but also tired looking. None the less he held himself as gracefully as he could in her presence.
“As soon as I heard he took a dancer within his chambers, I knew there would be trouble. I came as soon as I could. I do hope… you can forgive him. He’s not exactly the best of men when it comes to the ladies, but he’s not a bad king either.” This wasn’t exactly true, as the King was known for all sorts of unscrupulous things, but she made no note of that.
For the rest of the evening they talked. He never once touched her, nor did h look at her indecently. His name was Miles, the 2ed son of the King, and he seemed to hate his life, or so Nami could tell. He spoke of lots of things, about travels and political things. He spoke of how if his father died, he’d be the hair, but his dimwitted older brother, a revolutionary wanted to destroy the kingdom.
His stories were interesting, and for the next 5 nights Nami was brought to his chambers, given a robe and a soft seat, and they talked. She grew to like him, very much, and wanted to help him in any way he could, though there wasn’t much she could do for him. They were nearly at their destination, and she would be left at the next port for what ever else work she needed to do. It was tonight, or never, she decided. To steal the boat and drop it’s people off near an island would be hard to do single handed, but she could. Or… could she.
For some reason she wanted to help the prince though. He was kind and caring, and talked of good things, talked of freedom for his kingdom and an end all to the war. She heard others talk of the prince as well, a wide eyes green behind the ears political figure that was more desired then the rotund king they had. The longer she kept her ears out the more she realized the Prince was sorely loved and the King was despised.
She… couldn’t steal the ship, in the end. They reached port, and the entertainers were free to go, paid what they needed for pay and let lose. She however was… asked to stay, by the Prince himself. A offer she could easily refuse, for the gold they gave her was well off for now, but not enough. She took the offer though, not knowing why. She didn’t LIKE helping others out like this, and the King was still a slimy asshole that she wanted nothing to do with. None the less, she stayed on, masquerading as Prince Miles’ personal dancer.
For six months she stayed with the group of people, she stayed hidden from the King at all chances, and stayed wit the Prince, telling stories, hearing them, never having to dance for him. She learned of his plans, to take out the King, to end it all and save the people. She told no one. She said nothing to anyone, and even gave ideas to help. She had already mapped out the place they were at, at the moment. She had already figured where she had to go to steal the riches, and how to get it out of there too.
But after 6 months she had really grown attached to the young Prince, enjoying the visits to his chambers, the stories, the glances and looks she received. It was almost heart breaking to know she had to steal everything from him the day of his revolution. The day he over threw the King and took over a country. That was the plan at least, to use the distraction to get what she wanted. Even if it meant taking it from this very nice Prince Miles.
This was were all the trouble came for her though. The night before the revolt, the Prince asking her to his chambers once last time. He was a gentleman about everything and had never touched her once, but today he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her in a hug, whispering that “I am so grateful to have met you, My Nami.” His voice soft, head tilted into hr hair, just holding her. It made her tummy flop and flip, the sound of him calling her ‘My Nami” made her feel sick, hearing Arlong’s voice for a moment. But the feel of being held close was… new. Nice. And heartbreaking.
After so much time, he had asked her to stay the night, to share his bed, to stay in this Kingdom and be adored. It hurt, a lot, to know what she had to do. She’d nearly give it all up for him at this moment, held close and wanted. To be wanted, in this way, was something she’d not known. To be wanted and loved at all was rare and normally fleeting. She had to… choose.
Home or Here.
That night she made her choice and danced for him. She danced with grace and care, for a while telling him a lovely story with her hands and body, her movements. She fell into bed with him that night and stayed. She stayed until the morning, to which she woke to the news that the King was dead, Long live the Prince Miles. She had known the plans. It wasn’t Miles doing, but he knew it would happen. She knew he would feel bad about it happening, but knew he’d be better for the lands too. She told no one.
Dressed before anyone noticed, Nami left a note. The note was simple, a kiss of red, and a few words of good bye. He had already known she would refuse his offer. He knew he couldn’t catch the waves upon the shore. She’d taken a few things, it seemed just enough to get by, and at the port she left the island and the new King Miles to his things.
She took no reward, and stole no coin or gold. It was a sad day. Stories though, she stole his stories, though they were willingly given.
Months later, back at Arlong’s Park, she sat, curled up at her desk, hand bleeding, sore and red from days of writing, drawing maps. She had been so busy for Arlong once again that she had barely taken a break. Nothing. She came back with nearly nothing. Nothing but a few trinkets here and there to show for her time. Nothing but memories.
New had traveled to Cocoyoshi island, about the celebrations of King Miles, his suitor, a Princess from a near by Island, and their new beautiful lands. The island prospered, and she was happy. Once in a while she’d receive a letter, a small thank you tucked inside, and a note of missing her, but other then that she never bothered to see him again. She kept an ear out for him and his tails, but that was all she kept of the King that was called Miles.
Years later, it would please her to know, and meet, another kind man named Miles as well. Something that always made her smile. No matter how much he hated it when she used his first name, and how rude he felt she was for it, it made her happy to say it. A good reminder of better times in such a dark place. It also helped that he was a good friend as well.
Nami has never danced since that last night with the Prince, and even goes so far as to say she can’t though it’s not true. She’s started to believe it herself that she cant and even when a sweet young white knight among a dark and evil setting asks for her hand in a dance, she finds it hard to do and flutters a lot. She doesn’t know how to dance like a normal human does, and tends to step upon their toes often, but with some, it’s fun. She tries, and doesn’t do bad, but she will never dance again like before.
Not like before.