#And now you lie at my feet defeated and snoring

[pure-garbage]

Tale Of The Scar... An Unpleasant Realization

Lana liked it when neither she nor Zoro drew the night watch. She always welcomed his warmth in whatever corner of the cabin she eeked out after the straw hats' daily scramble for the softest spots. Even so, something bothered her tonight in spite of her contentment.

Her hand crept under the hem of Zoro's shirt while he sleepily twirled a lock of her hair around and around.

'What a terrible wound,' she thought, tracing a troubled line from his right waist all the way up to his left shoulder. Zoro watched her turbulent expression for a long time while she stroked the scar over and over.

"Tell me what you're thinking," he requested softly. All around them, their crewmates snored and muttered in their sleep.

"Just... you're such a skilled swordsman," Lana sighed, continuing the motion of her fingertips over his chest lightly. "This scar... it must be really old. Did you get it before you started training?"

"No. It's only been a year since I got this one."

Lana stopped her tracing, resting her open palm over his heart. Its strong, steady beats usually consoled her, but she only frowned more deeply.

"Who were you fighting? How were they good enough to cut you so badly?" she wondered.

"His name is Hawk-Eye Mihawk. I challenged him because he's the world's greatest swordsman."

"And he cut you down."

"He let me live and told me to seek him out again someday. And I will. One day when I'm strong enough I'll defeat him and claim my place as the best in the world."

Suddenly, Lana realized that one day, that would be the way she lost Zoro.

Sadness washed over her in a devastating wave. She knew better than to think he could be swayed from his course. Zoro's determination to achieve his goal was utterly resolute, his stubbornness and drive to keep his word unbreakable. The weight of the promises he carried with him were matched only by the fires of his own ambition.

'Even if he can defeat this Hawk-Eye... he probably could, to be fair. But then he'll take his place. He'll inherit the mantle of the world's greatest sword master and when that happens, he'll face an endless sea of challengers. I'm sure he'll love it, I'm sure that's what he wants and he knows what's waiting for him when he finally achieves his dream. Even so... the only way this dream of his ends is... with his death.'

Lana's despair was evident on her face.

"It's fine," Zoro comforted her, oblivious to her internal catastrophizing. "It's healed now. It only hurts if I fall on something wrong... oh, and sometimes when it storms hard enough."

'I guess every relationship has a timer on it from the very beginning,' Lana mused darkly. 'We're not special, but... how am I supposed to feel, having such an unavoidable good-bye always looming over me? What logic is there that can make this burden easier to bear?'

When her expression didn't lighten, Zoro placed a kiss to her forehead. He moved to her cheek, but she pulled away from him before his lips could meet hers. She rolled, turning her back to him. He followed, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her hair.

"Laaanaaaa," he sang, voice muffled by her thick locks. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"Nothing."

"Don't lie. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but don't lie. 'Kay?"

"Hmph."

"Lana..."

Zoro's words became a whine. He nuzzled her neck, clutching her tighter as her abrupt, inexplicable distress started to genuinely bother him. "Say something."

"I'm going to sleep."

"You're upset though."

"Yeah, upset and sleepy. Good night."

Zoro grumbled and held her even tighter.

"Fine. But don't blame me when you wake up with bird feet."

The comment was so bizarre that for a minute, Lana forgot to be depressed.

"When I... what?!"

"Come on, everyone knows that if you go to sleep upset, you wake up the next morning with bird feet," Zoro replied, tone implying that this should have been obvious.

"You mean like... pigeon toes?"

"No, that's when your heels point out sideways. If you go to sleep upset, Nicorigull, king of the doves, will feel sorry for you. So he'll come in the night and make a trade to take away your worries. But since he's a good, law-abiding king, he won't take something without leaving fair payment. So he leaves behind his feet and the person he pities will have to wear them for the rest of their life."

"Uh... Zoro, what kind of messed up fairytale is that anyway?!" Lana demanded, swiveling her head to fix him with a tart stare of consternation.

"It's a classic where I'm from," Zoro chuckled, unfazed by her sternness.

Lana gave in with a sigh. She couldn't resist the charm of his smile.

"I don't want to tell you why I'm upset," she explained, "... because I know you. I know the way you think. And I know you won't have any respect for my reasoning and we'll only end up fighting about it. I'll get over it in my own time... and you can't do anything to help, so just let it go and let me get some rest. Please?"

"Huh. Well, okay," he shrugged, conceding easily. "Fair enough."

He yawned and let his eyes slide shut. A second later he opened one again.

"But I can still hold you though, right?" he checked.

Lana rolled back over, burying her face in his chest.

"Please do."

He did, wrapping both arms firmly around her before he passed out.

Lana didn't sleep immediately despite what she'd said. She stayed awake, listening to Zoro's heartbeat and slow, even breaths. He talked in his sleep, demanding gruffly that Luffy 'get out of the water!'

"I'm drowning, Zoro! Save me!" Luffy responded sluggishly from a hammock across the room. Lana stifled a giggle as the exchange went on.

'All I can do is enjoy the time we do have,' she concluded with grudging resignation. 'However long it is. I can't let myself worry about what's to come. Especially the things I have no control over, like Zoro's determination to get himself killed.'

Zoro's unconscious dialogue was reduced to grumbling mumbles as Luffy's ear-splitting snores overtook the room.

"Zoro... I love you," she told him softly. "Okay?"

"Okay, Lana," he mumbled back. "Love you too."

Lana's heart skipped a few beats and her eyes shot open wide. Zoro had never told her that before. A bittersweet smile spread over her face as she considered the irony of the sentiment being realized at a time like this.

'Good to know anyway,' she thought, tickled in spite of her persistent melancholy. 'I wonder if he would ever say it while awake.'

That was a question for another day. Lana finally passed out, her soft snores joining the symphony formed by those of her crewmates.

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== First Chapter ==

[iantoyawrites]

“I told you that we had our own problems,” Astarion says with folded arms, his hips cocked in a way that clearly says “I told you so.”

“She was pregnant,” I say, defeated. “I never thought that she'd…she'd be so delusional as to expect the hag would make everything as she wished it to be.” I sigh, covering my face with my hands.

“There, there, darling, there will be other times to give your misplaced acts of heroism to someone whom appreciates it.”

I make a sound that sounds like a whine. I'm ashamed of myself.

“Well, you can either keep wallowing in your self-pity, or, and I like this one, you get your head in the game for the next skirmish and come along now. We've got too many enemies to stand still for too long.”

I lower my hands, gazing at his red eyes. I nod.

“That's a good lad. Come, let's catch up with the others.”

~

That night, when I'm tucked into my bedroll and hear the crackling of firewood and the light snoring of my sleeping companions, I lie awake.

I had invited Astarion to feed from me earlier in the day, and as I think of my given permission earlier, my stomach tenses in a mix of anxiety and anticipation.

The last time I'd been awake for his feed, it hurt. Since then, any other time he'd fed from me I had been fast asleep, and when I awoke I was quite surprised to discover the fang marks on my neck, swollen and bruised for all to see, without so much as feeling a trace of it as it happened during the night.

Such is the skill of an adept rogue, I suppose. It makes me wonder how he hunts for prey in the woods. I've…considered watching—I could always disguise myself as a wolf, or raven, and follow. But sleep is too precious out here in the wilds, and I never care to take it for granted. Besides, it is his business, and what kind of beast would I be if I stalked the vampire spawn that stalks its prey?

My thoughts unsettle me. Then, I hear a rustle of fabric.

I slow my breathing and strain my ears to listen. I am certain it is Astarion crawling out of his bedroll. I hear him get to his feet, the earth quietly crumbling under his otherwise stealthy footfalls. He's walking away from the campfire, I realize with disappointment heavy in my chest. I continue to listen for him, and besides the distant sound of trickling liquid which leads me to believe he must relieve himself just like the rest of us do, something I'd always been curious about, I do not hear him again.

I roll over onto my side, resting my scarred cheek onto my hand as I seek warmth from my sleeping bag and the fire nearby. I glance at Artemis and Karlach, as they sleep a respectful distance from one another.

They contrast against Astarion and I so differently. Karlach's fiery engine is just as passionate as any heart. And although Arty isn't verbose about her emotions, it's clear to me how much she loves the tiefling, and the lengths she'd go to to help her.

I don't feel that same warmth from Astarion. I long for that warmth, I've come to realize. It wasn't until we escaped the ship that I realized I too craved to be needed and desired by someone.

I just am not sure if offering my neck to a vampire spawn is the same thing. I find myself feeling quite jealous when I overhear the other two discuss their plans for when Karlach finds a cure for her overheating.

It warms my belly though, when I think of how excited Astarion was when I told him he could drink my blood; the curve of his lips as he smiled, and the interest in his eyes as his gaze met mine, and how I shivered when I caught him staring at the artery below my ear at a healing bruise from before. Fortunately my skin color hides most of the evidence, resulting in a dark blemish where paler skin might bruise very noticeably.

I sigh and clear the thoughts from my mind. It does me no good to dwell on such things, I reason. I do eventually doze.