Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was warm outside. Not as hot as in summer, but still warm. Summer was unbearable in Alubarna when the sun burned skin, made plants wither and the residents crave for a little rain. However, inside of the large house it was cool, the soft splashing of the fountain sounded through the inner courtyard, and a man with a white beard and the frame of many lived years rested on a divan bed. His eyes were a milky gray from the illness that took most of his sight away.

Benn entered the room, soundlessly as always, tray in hand, filled with some tea and cookies. His bare chest was covered by a necklace, golden and heavy, the attached ruby a constant reminder to the world that he was nothing. Nothing but a thing people could buy, use and sell.

He shifted the tray in his hands and some of the glasses chinked together. The sound caused the old man to turn, his eyes trying to see, even though it was hard and nearly impossible by now.

“Benn, is that you?” he asked, his voice rusty and low. He wouldn't live much longer, probably not even long enough to have to face total blindness. It was nothing Benn really cared about. He would not remain in this house when time took the life of his current owner.

“Yes Master, it's me,” he spoke, voice neutral as ever. His whole being was indifferent. His voice, his eyes, his expressions and his stance. Some people would call it arrogant, others bold. For Benn, it was the only way to not totally lose who he was, even though he wasn't sure if he even was someone.

When he reached the man who owned him, he placed the tray on a small table in front of the divan and knelt in front of it. Benn picked up one of the glasses and placed it into the hand of his master. He couldn't assume the old man would pick it up by himself, because he couldn’t see it anymore.

Benn’s hand softly but firmly opened the fragile fingers, then closed them around the glass again. He made sure to show were the cookies stood, too, before he pushed himself up, ready to leave.

“Wait, before you go,” his master said, and Benn halted in his movements, turning to face the man, even though that wasn't necessary to speak with him. There had been a time when the old man had loved to strip Benn with his eyes, but this was some months ago. Now he couldn't do that anymore.

“Yes, Master?” Benn said to indicate he was still here. He wondered why. He wondered why he never tried to run, to just risk it and leave. His fingers brushed the ruby, and he frowned. He knew why. Because he still treasured his life, and the moment he would go, the jewel would release its energy, explode and take Benn with it, down to the darkness that was the only thing remaining in death. No one had been able to answer his question if freedom is valued higher than your own life. He would wait until someone could honestly answer it.

By now, the old man had sat up, and his hand tapped the cushion next to his body. “Come here,” he said, and Benn followed his wish, as he was supposed to follow every demand his owner made. He could force Benn, if he refused, the small golden ring on his left middle finger ensured it.

“I'm getting old, Benn. Really, really old. You served me well. Always a nice sight. Always polite. You served me well. But I'm not really active anymore, as you know. I'm sorry I can't keep you. But I will take a high price, to make sure you will get a nice home. Mhm mhm, yes, a nice home you will get, and I will get some nice money for my grandchildren...”

The voice broke and faded, but Benn could see that the thought made his master happy. He didn't discuss any of it. It wasn't worth telling a person who always got what they wanted and if not, could buy it with money, that a slave never had a home. One needed to be free to have a home, and Benn wasn't free. He had seen more houses, cities and countries than most people would ever see in their lives. But still, all that was left was nothingness. He wasn't free and so he didn't see the need to correct the old man. People like his master would never understand, and tended not to listen, anyway.

As a pleasure slave, Benn knew his master would make good money. They were sold by the highest prices, if famous, people would actually kill over some of the best slaves. Benn was one of them. His body was in perfect shape, his owners usually made sure he could train several times a week, to keep it that way. He had no scars, at least none visible, alabaster skin and the face of a foreigner, just enough mystery and elegance in it to drive people wild by merely looking at him. He knew how to pleasure both men and women and he could fulfill random other tasks, like serving, which was highly appreciated by the ladies. People loved to desire him, and they loved even more to use him. It was what he was bought and sold for. He wouldn't tell those lords and ladies that he could actually do a lot more, that he knew how to handle money, knew how to run a business. Those things, people didn't need to be aware of. They spent their money so he could please them. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Yes, Master,” Benn answered the little speech, not giving anything away. What could he do about it, anyway? He could only live with it and hope the next one who bought him would treat him nice enough. Not all of the lords and ladies who bought themselves slaves were nice to them. Nevertheless, as a pleasure slave, torture was mostly done mentally, to not harm the body that would bring money when sold. Also, a lot of people didn't want to look at scars while having sex. Benn could endure mental torture. He had and he would again.

“You're still sitting next to me, right Benn?”

The voice was saturated with triumphant, as if the man was proud he had managed to see at least that much, and Benn answered with a plain, “Yes, Master.”

“Good. Make me feel good!” came the command, and Benn's eyes went neutral again. He locked his heart behind steel as he opened the buttons on the shirt and the trousers while brittle fingers touched his chest and tried to claim him. Benn let them believe they succeeded, even though he knew no one ever did. Because even though they claimed his body, nobody would ever own his soul.

It was warm outside the house. Not as warm as in summer, but still warm. However it wasn't the reason Benn Beckman only wore some light trousers and a necklace. It never would be, Benn knew it never would be, as his current master, blind, old and rugged, moaned under his touches.

The procedure was always the same. Slave stood next to slave, body next to body. It didn't matter if they were men or women, as long as they wore the necklace, they were slaves and therefore worth some money. Normally, a lot of people, mostly lords or ladies, people of wealth and fame, would stroll through the auction house, looking at the merchandise and deciding what was the best they could afford with their money. If two buyers wanted the same slave, they had to outbid the other and the last owner could be happy over some extra money.

Today, though, it was different. The hall was empty, except of each and every slave the auctioneer had in stock. All of them, Benn was sure of it, had been displayed today, even though he didn't know why. Then a man, he was called Disko, entered and his usually friendly looking face was distorted with anger and disgust. He knew how to fool the buyers, he just didn't put that much effort in his mask when facing his goods.

“I want all of you to behave yourself today. If one of you doesn’t, I will personally punish you and beat you up until I can see your bare bones. One of the Yonkos is coming today, got it? Behave!” he shouted, and Benn could feel the mood shifting. Fear rose, mostly in the children and women, but some of the men shivered too, while others stood straighter than before, maybe hoping to make a good impression and being bought by one of the four most powerful people in the world. Benn didn't care. This was the territory of Kaidou. He wouldn't want to serve that monster. He wouldn't want to serve any of them.

There were four people who ruled most of the known land. They were called the Yonko, and their territory covered most of what people had explored so far, which wasn't much. A lot of places were still unknown, and as they were discovered by adventurers working under the Yonko, they were also claimed. The people either loved or feared those four, mostly depending on the area they lived in. Despite what people said about them, Benn knew they were powerful and therefore no one he wanted to be owned by. Powerful people tended not to care for their underlings and throw away their slaves like garbage. If he could avoid the attention of that Yonko, he would.

His expression was indifferent as ever, fully aware that it could bring down the wrath of either Disko or that Yonko, but he didn't care too much. He was probably one of the highest priced people in here. That idiot of an auctioneer would stop anyone from killing or torturing him before he got his money. Dead people didn't sell well. Benn would start worrying when he was sold, and not before.

When the door opened, all eyes were drawn to it, Benn's as well. However, he heard a voice before he saw the matching face enter the room. It was a tall man, with black hair and a frown on his face. He didn't look very happy at all, as he crossed his arms before his chest and looked at someone Benn couldn't see yet.

“Do you really think this is wise? Honestly, I don't want a war just because you want to act like a saint. I'm not fighting for you, you hear? I am not! Kaidou can beat you to the ground, and I will not care at all...”

Whatever those words meant, Benn knew in an instant that it wasn't Kaidou who visited. It was strange, as normally a Yonko didn't enter the other one's territory. Not that it changed much, but it baffled Benn. Both that this Yonko seemed bold enough not to play by the rules and also that the black-haired man was talking like this to his superior, without being punished, locked away or killed.

“Come on, Yasopp, don't be a scaredy-cat. This will be alright. It's a free country, after all,” someone laughed and this laugh sent chills down Benn's spine. He had never heard such an open and honest laugh, ever. It was straightforward and true and something Benn wished he could do himself, too.

The man who entered now had vivid red hair, a smile that seemed to cover all of his face and the brightest eyes. He was handsome, even though three parallel scars ran over his left eye. Only a moment later, Benn realized who he was. Shanks, a Yonko, one of the most powerful men in history… and totally in the wrong territory.

“It's a free country, but it's not your free country,” another voice answered, and eventually, Benn managed to look away from the Yonko and to his second companion behind him. The man was at least thrice his size, but not in the height, but in the width, and he still had something to eat in his hand. What kind of companions were that?! he wondered.

“Yes, yes, I know. Thanks for the reminder,” Shanks answered and finally looked away from his company into the room. Benn had never seen an expression shift so fast, but what had been happiness and joy before, was now covered rage and a fury that was very well hidden somewhere deep down in the Yonko's heart. Only his eyes betrayed him. Maybe not even those, but Benn knew this look. He knew the indifference that covered everything a person  wasn’t allowed to give away. He wondered whether he had been the only one who noticed that shift. As subtle as it was, and most people would just call it neglect, Benn knew it wasn't. It was rage, a rage no one was allowed to see, not even his companions. Benn just wondered why Shanks was looking like that. He was a Yonko after all, a person seen as a king and ruler. He should be used to buying slaves. He certainly could make people into them.

Shanks stepped into the room, and a moment later, Disko was by his side, bowing in front of him.

“Your Highness, I'm very happy you're here. If you wish anyth–” he started, but was interrupted by the Yonko. Shanks' voice was neutral, but the cold edge was audible. This man was dangerous, Benn knew it instantly.

“I don't! Just get on with it.”

“As you wish, Your Highness, as you wish. What kind of sla–” Disko went on, but again, he was interrupted.

“No one specific,” Shanks said, and as Benn watched him, going through the rows, picking random slaves, mostly kids, but also men and women, he realized that indeed nothing of this was planned. There was no system in his choosing. The Yonko neither asked about the talents or tasks the slaves normally did, nor about the behavior of the people he chose. Instead, he looked them in the face, asked for a name and the price, before he decided to buy or not. After a while, Benn noticed Disko's prices were way too high, but Shanks had not even once declined to take a slave because of it. When he was told the price, Shanks shrugged his shoulders and nodded. He either didn't notice or didn't care that he was swindled.

When the Yonko said yes to a person, his black-haired companion paid the money, and Shanks got the ring that controlled the necklace. He let it slip into one of his pockets before he went on without saying anything. The mood was clouded by silence, which was only interrupted by questions Shanks asked and Disko answered.

It took a while until they reached Benn, but eventually they came over to where he stood. He didn't bow his head as all the other slaves had. He probably would have, if he had seen any advantage in it like staying unseen in the crowd, but he had the feeling that today not a single one of the slaves would be overlooked. Those bright eyes didn't miss a person just because they looked away.

Then they took hold of him and a shudder went down Benn's spine. He gulped, but he didn't flinch and he didn't look away. There was no use in it, and Benn realized a small hint of astonishment in the other man's face.

“What's your name?” Shanks asked, his gaze unwavering and somehow something in his tone was different than before. Benn couldn't tell what, but he suddenly felt as if he and the Yonko were alone in this room. He felt as if this question was spoken to a man on the same level as Shanks, though he knew this would never happen. But it didn't change the strange connection between them.

“His name is–” Disko wanted to answer the question, as he had all the others as well, but Shanks only lifted his hand and the man hushed, surprised.

“I didn't ask you.”

The voice was sharp, but it were those eyes that irritated Benn. Shanks wasn't looking away, not a second. He held his gaze, and for the first time in a long time, Benn wanted to look away, but couldn't. As he didn’t answer, the other spoke again.

“So what is it? Your name?”

“Benn,” he answered slowly, trying to remember how to speak. What was wrong with him?

“Benn,” Shanks repeated, as if he wanted to taste the sound of it on his tongue. Then he nodded and in the short moment he looked away, the spell was broken. A small sigh escaped Benn's lips even though he didn't know why, just to find his attention drawn back to the man again. “What's your profession?”

The question made Benn stare at the Yonko for a moment, before he laughed bitterly. It just happened and wasn't planned. Usually his selfcontrol didn't slip that easily. The moment the sound escaped his mouth, Disko took a deep breath, anger swelling in his eyes, but he was ignored and not bold enough to act in front of a Yonko.

Meanwhile, Shanks frowned, asking, “What is so funny about it?” If Benn hadn't known better, he would have thought he'd seen a little pout on the redhead's face. A man of this power didn’t pout, did he?

“I'm a slave,” Benn answered when his dry laugh faded and indifference was back in his expression. “A slave has no profession. A slave does what he is ordered to do.”

It seemed as if Shanks wanted to say something, but he didn't open his mouth. Instead a certain kind of sadness enveloped him for a moment. It was gone when Disko interrupted them again, smiling friendly as if nothing had happened at all. His anger was hidden behind a friendly mask, but Benn knew he would be punished, if he was still in here after the Yonko left. He didn't mind, it had been worth it.

“He's a pleasure slave, Your Highness. One of the best, to be precise. Maybe a little dumb, but very willing,” he praised him, but Benn could see Shanks didn't really care what the auctioneer said. He could also see that the redhead didn't believe the other man for a moment when he called Benn dumb. Shit, he would have preferred to keep his charade of being a not-good-for-anything-but-sex.

“What's his price?” Shanks asked, and Disko smiled. He saw the big money and already thought of everything he would buy of the percentage he got from it. It even lessened the fury from moments before.

“Three billion berry, Your Highness,” he said, and Benn suppressed a snort. He was worth much, yes, but not that much. He knew any moment now this Yonko would shake his head and declare he couldn't afford to pay that much money for a single slave. However, Shanks surprised him.

“Fine,” he said neutrally, and for the first time one of the other two men who had been with the Yonko stepped in. It was Yasopp, the one who handled the money.

“Shanks, that's too much,” he declared, eyes wide at his superior's behavior and a frown on his face. The other man who Benn had overheard being called Roo nodded and actually forgot to eat for a moment. Benn had known it. There was a certain amount of money people were willing to pay and maybe the top price was set a little higher for a Yonko, but still not that high.

“Nothing is too much for the right person,” Shanks answered sharply and just held his head up a little higher. Suddenly he had the air of a person who ruled. He looked like a man who rightfully was one of the most powerful in this land, even though he could hardly be older than Benn himself. “I will pay it out of my own account.”

“Are you serious?” Yasopp asked, unsure how to handle the antics of his ruler, but Benn knew the other wouldn't back down now. Somehow the impending change of his ownership didn't bother him too much anymore, even though he had not wanted to serve a Yonko only hours ago. He had no idea how this man would treat him. Normally Benn could guess as much, but in this case he was just clueless. It still didn't bother him as much as it should. He would find out soon enough, that was for sure, as Shanks just held out his hand.

“My purse!” he said firmly, and Yasopp fished for a brown leather purse and handed it to the redhead. But before Shanks handed over the money, he looked at Disko. “I want the ring beforehand!”

A slight shadow of greed showed on the auctioneer's face, but then it disappeared and he was his friendly self again. However, Benn had seen it and to his astonishment Shanks had as well, because he raised his eyebrow slightly. Then Disko opened a metal ring and searched for what would allow any person to control Benn, and take his life with nothing more than a thought. A golden ring was handed to Shanks and this time the Yonko slipped it on his finger instead of putting it in his pocket. The magic it contained allowed the ring to fit perfectly, and Benn could feel how his life shifted. The necklace got warmer and burned his skin, an agonizing pain Benn had to endure with each switch. The ring had accepted his new master, and Benn had been sold again.

Shanks' eyes widened as he pushed the ring over his finger, and he stared at Benn before he stared at his necklace. It was as if Benn could see pain in those bright eyes. Pain and concern and hatred for the situation and shock, as if he saw Benn in a new light. But then it was gone, locked away behind steel walls. Again, something Benn knew all too well. This couldn't be. How could he know all those things, how could he know what the other was feeling? He didn't know that person, Yonko or not, he would not become attached to someone who owned him. He had learned that emotional bonds only led to misery. He would not allow that, though a small part in Benn was drawn to the redhead.

With a swift movement, Shanks shoved the money into the auctioneer’s hand, visibly not caring that he just had paid a fortune for a slave and crossed the small distance between them. Even though Benn wanted to flinch and back away, he didn't. He wasn't allowed and he should get used to it. As a pleasure slave, privacy was nothing he could call his own.

Meanwhile, Shanks stood before him, looking into his eyes and searching for something. If Benn hadn't known better, he would have called it a search for permission, but why should a master ask his slave for his consent? That was insane. When Shanks didn't find what he was looking for, he sighed. His hands reached for Benn's neck, and Benn locked a part of himself away, making sure he wasn't thinking, wasn't feeling, wasn't really there. He just needed to function, though he never had experienced a man touching him right here in the auction house. Well, there was a first time for everything.

It nearly knocked him over when Shanks lifted the necklace without touching him. The Yonko's expression shifted from concern to a mild aggression, though so very subtle that Benn was sure none of the others was even aware of the killing intent that flooded through the Yonko's veins. He was equally surprised that the redhead took extra care in not touching his skin at all. As if he knew that each time someone claimed Benn's body, it killed him a little more.

“This normally doesn't happen,” Shanks mumbled, his eyes fixed on the burned flesh underneath the necklace. Benn's neck was scarred, and he would always wear a mark, even if he could someday get rid of this thing. For his entire life as a slave, the scars had been hidden under the necklace, which was why he was praised as unmarred and whole. He knew he was the only one whose necklace burned its way through his skin, leaving a scar for each new master. He had had a lot of different masters during his life and not even a handful knew. Shanks had found out the moment he wore the ring. As if he had felt the pain himself.

“With others, no, it normally doesn't. With me, ‘normal’ doesn't apply,” Benn answered, his voice low so only Shanks could hear him, and ringing with an edge of sarcasm. He didn't really know why, Benn just knew people normally didn't care.

Shanks, however, didn't react to his comment but whispered silent words. They were so soft-spoken Benn needed a while to realize it was a seal, the form of magic people used in this world. Seals were words, and those words carried power. When Shanks let go of the necklace, Benn prepared for the pain the metal would cause on the fresh wound, but he didn't feel anything.

The shock must have been visible on his face for a single moment before he had himself under control again. But Shanks had recognized it. The seal prevented the necklace from touching his skin and again Benn wondered why the Yonko even cared. But he did, and as Benn locked eyes with him, Shanks’ gaze said everything.

“Being ‘normal’ is overrated anyway,” Shanks whispered, before he backed away and turned. Benn knew his new master's face was as indifferent as before, even though he couldn't see it. When Shanks declared they were finished and would leave, Benn still wondered why this man was so different from all the other masters he had ever had.

Shanks turned and looked at Yasopp and Roo, who regarded him with concern. They had seen the shift in his mood, even though he was sure they could only assume half of what was really bothering him. The moment Benn had looked at him Shanks knew the man was something else. There was power and grace and kindness, but also stubbornness and hidden pain. Benn was no normal slave; he was strong enough to be king, if it weren't for the necklace around his throat.

“Get the people out of here. Make sure they are treated kindly, maybe let the women take care of the children. They surely are afraid. We will move in the morning,” Shanks ordered, but his thoughts were with Benn. The rest of the procedure was routine, but Shanks had other issues to take care of. This ring around his finger gave him power he didn't want. He had to seal it and someone else had to do it, so he could never, not even accidentally, harm Benn.

The rush of power the ring had granted him the second he had slipped it on his finger still frightened Shanks. The hidden magic in this piece of jewelry ensured that a slave could never be stronger than his master. It blocked the main part of the power flow in the enslaved and led it to the one who owned. Nevertheless, the ring, as Shanks knew, only channeled as much magic as the wearer of the ring could handle. Shanks could handle plenty of magical power, but he still couldn’t be sure if the ring wasn't blocking some of Benn's power for him.

“You're coming with me,” Shanks said, as he turned to Benn. It hurt him physically to see a man like him enslaved. The way Benn locked all feelings away just didn't sit well with him and when he had searched for the other man's permission to touch him, Shanks realized Benn wasn't believing he had the right to demand or refuse anything because he was a slave. Shanks would make sure to change that. He would make sure Benn wouldn't be a slave any longer, but become the man he could be.

For now, though, he needed to find Doc, and he needed the doctor to tend Benn's wound. The necklace bothered Shanks. He had never heard of a necklace that burned the slave's skin. The fresh wound had looked awfully painful, and Benn's words still rang in Shanks' ears. ‘Normal’ wasn't applying to him… How often had the man had to endure it? What kind of necklace was it that he wore? Shanks hadn't looked at the seal yet, but he already guessed it wouldn't be a common one. Even the ring wasn't feeling like a normal one. Subtle differences, but still, they were there.

Shanks moved without showing much care whether Benn followed him. He was lost in thought, but when he reached the entrance he turned around to look at his new companion. The sight caused Shanks to slightly step back. When he had first spotted Benn, he had been impressed that the man hadn’t looked away. There had been something different in his eyes, in his face and expressions. While Shanks had spoken with him, he had been fixated on the low words, the strange feeling of closeness, but now, now Shanks was able to really look at Benn and the sight took his breath away. Long, black hair like silk framed an edgy but handsome face. His eyes were gray and mysterious, his lips a natural red that people would want to kiss, and his stature was broad, strong and invited to lean against it .

It took all of Shanks' willpower to force himself to look away. He understood why people had wanted Benn in their houses, in their beds, as their slave, and the thought made Shanks incredibly sad. Benn was beautiful and all he would ever see when he looked in the mirror was a body others tried to own. Shanks would never touch him without consent. He would never kiss him, even though for just a short moment, it had been everything he'd wanted to do. But Shanks would only take what was given to him freely. He doubted Benn would ever give himself freely. There had been too much damage done to his soul.

With swift fingers, Shanks loosened the scarf he wore around his waist and slung it around Benn's neck to cover the necklace. He made sure not to touch Benn, but he could feel how the other man tensed, even though he tried to hide it, and he hid it well. Their eyes met and Shanks could see surprise in Benn and again it made Shanks sad. The man had endured so much pain that he couldn't believe in the smallest kindness.

“Let's go, I want you to see a doctor.” Shanks smirked bitterly, before he led Benn outside. He somehow had the feeling that with each step his life would change now. For better or for worse, he wasn't really sure.

Chapter Text

Benn followed Shanks, but his thoughts ran wild, his brain tried to catch up with the situation, but couldn't fully. The scarf around his neck was soft, the fabric a really good quality and shimmering red in the sun. It didn't match any of his clothing or his skin tone, but that didn't matter. It probably was the most expensive thing on his body now. Heck, it probably was even more expensive than Benn was himself. He refused to think about the amount of money Shanks had spent for him. No one in the world would spent three billion berry for a slave, and still the man in front of him had just done that, and even out of his own wallet.

The street was dusty, the sun warm on his skin, but not as hot as it had been when they’d had to march to the auction house. It was around six in the evening, maybe later, Benn could guess as much looking into the sky. The orange shimmer of the sinking sun danced on the white houses, and as he looked ahead again, his eyes caught on the red hair, the single strands dancing like flames. Automatically, his hand rose to touch the soft silk around his throat. He had done it a dozen times now during their silent walk past the houses of the town, and he still couldn't believe he was wearing it. Normally, it was forbidden for a slave to cover the necklace. Each person who looked at him should know what kind of person he was. If an owner found out his slave had tried to or actually had hidden the necklace, he was allowed and even encouraged to send power through his ring and either punish or kill the slave who had tried to fool the people around him. No matter how powerful or weak a person was, as long as they were the owner and in possession of the ring, simple words were enough to hurt or even kill the connected slave. It was one of the many aspects of the magic embedded in the jewelry. But Shanks had given him the scarf on his own accord, had hidden the necklace personally, so he would hardly do anything to punish Benn. Only one question remained: Why?

When Benn looked at his fingers he jerked slightly as they were glistening red. It was his own blood that had soaked through the fabric. The only thing that hindered everyone from perceiving it was the red color of the scarf. He hadn't even realized it himself, the spell Shanks had whispered preventing the necklace from touching his wound, as if a thin layer of air separated his freshly burned skin from the cold metal. Nevertheless, it was bleeding, the pain something so familiar to Benn he barely noticed it.

However, he didn't want the blood to ruin the scarf. Usually Benn wouldn't care, but something was different now. He couldn't wrap his mind around what it was, but so far Shanks had only been friendly towards him and how could he repay this kindness by ruining something which was Shanks’? Still, a part of Benn's brain shouted that he certainly would have to pay in some way if Shanks found out what he had done to the scarf even though another part knew it wasn’t true. Shanks wouldn't punish him his whole course of actions spoke against it. Every other owner would, but this man with his fascinating red hair was special.

Benn started to silently whisper a healing spell, the one he always used when he switched owners and the necklace burned his skin, but before he could form the first two syllables, Shanks interrupted him.

“Please stop. We're nearly there and I want my doctor to tend the wound. I know it's bad, but self-healing always contains a risk.” Although he spoke in a friendly tone, his voice was firm. He seemed to know what he was talking about. Benn just wondered how Shanks had realized he had wanted to heal it. The whispers hadn't been audible for any other ears than his own. But Shanks wasn't done speaking and again, he surprised Benn. “If it hurts too much, I can use a pain absorbing spell. I’m not great at it, but it should do the job.”

For a moment, Benn was unable to answer. Shanks had stopped and turned around, so Benn had halted as well. He shook his head at the words, not really sure if this was a joke. It didn't feel like a joke. How could one of the strongest men of the known world admit so easily he was bad at something? Not to mention that a pain absorbing spell was something only fully trained doctors should be able to manage, and Benn was quite sure Shanks wasn't one. If he could manage to form one even though he was untrained, he was not bad but incredibly powerful. But why was he willing to take some of the pain Benn was feeling right now just to make him feel better? Whenever a pain absorbing spell was cast by an untrained person, the pain was only shifted from one to the other and not erased. He was a just slave, so why would Shanks care? Why would he take on pain that wasn’t his?

“No Master, I'm fine. I just didn't want to ruin your scarf,” Benn spoke quietly, feeling as if the words weren’t his own. Why had he admitted he didn't want to ruin the scarf? It shouldn’t bother him. Shanks had put it around his neck on his own. It was his fault if the scarf was ruined, not Benn's. Well, not that any other master would care whose mistake it was. Benn had been punished for other people's actions more than once, but something inside him whispered that Shanks would act differently. He would act in a way Benn was unable to foresee.

“Don't worry about it. It's just a piece of old linen, nothing of value,” Shanks answered after a moment of silence that definitely felt too long for Benn. What kind of ridiculous lie was he telling? The fabric was high-quality silk and nothing less.

He gulped because he could see a certain sadness he didn’t like in those bright eyes. It was a too familiar feeling, showing in eyes that resembled his own when he looked in the mirror and didn't pretend. No one had ever seen him like that, no one and still, Benn had the feeling Shanks knew.

“Let's go, the sooner you see Doc, the better!”

Somehow Benn had thought Shanks would lead him into some kind of palace, a villa or a fancy hotel. A Yonko would surely prefer something classy, luxurious, at least that was what Benn had imagined. He had been in a lot of such houses, escorting whoever his owner was at the moment, and warmed the bed for important guests, business partners or just random people that needed to be impressed. If his master owed something to someone, Benn had been loaned as payment. If his master needed to be in good graces, Benn was the bait, and sometimes he just was a present to ensure a special night.

However, the room he now waited in for Shanks to return to was nothing near as luxurious as he had anticipated. Instead, it was a little rugged, the furniture old and the bed he sat on creaked with each move he made. They had entered a tavern, muffled noises coming from the bar underneath them. Shanks had explained they would stay just for one night before making their way to his home town Manoas and to his palace. Maybe this would be closer to what Benn expected a Yonko's residence to be. He would see in a few weeks, as they still had to travel a few hundred miles to even cross the border from Kaidou's to Shanks' territory.

Benn loved the place; the tavern, the room, everything about the cozy atmosphere that surrounded him at the moment, he honestly did. There was nothing fancy about it, no forced politeness and no suspicious looks at him or his necklace. He didn't have to remember correct titles or bow in front of each person he met. This was as he imagined it would be without his chain. It just got harder and harder for him to remember that the one who owned him now was a Yonko and not just a normal… person. Though he never forgot he wasn't free.

He looked up when the door was opened and Shanks stepped in, followed by a man with long blond hair and skin a little lighter than usual in this region. Not as pale as Benn, but that was hardly possible. The blue eyes of the stranger regarded him, then he turned to Shanks and shrugged.

“I better start right away.”

With those words, he made his way to his patient. Benn tried to stand up but was prevented from doing so when the other man motioned for him to stay put, so he remained sitting. Then the doctor's hand reached for the scarf around Benn's neck. He immediately tensed, not enough for anyone to notice but it was his normal reaction to people trying to touch him. He locked his feelings away so nobody would see his pain.

Nevertheless, Shanks must have sensed his unease even though Benn was sure he had managed not to let his mask slip in the slightest. He knew the doctor hadn't noticed anything, because he looked baffled when he was interrupted by his superior.

“Stop,” Shanks said firmly, and the doctor turned, confused, his hand still lingering in midair.

“I didn't do–” he started, but Shanks shook his head.

“I know. It doesn't matter. Benn, would you please remove the scarf?” Shanks said softly, and Benn followed his order. The red fabric weighted heavy in his hands, as Benn realized it was as drenched in blood as his neck now had to be. He could hear the doctor inhaling sharply.

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath, and Shanks shot him a dark look. His lips twitched up bitterly, showing he must have told the doctor, who hadn't believed his superior.

“Can you open…” the doctor began, but Shanks just shrugged, pain dancing in his eyes. What was it he wanted to open? Not really? That was not possible, why should he remove the necklace just for a healing? The mere minute the necklace was not around Benn's neck, he could do anything without fearing for the ruby to explode. Benn knew he would never allow anyone to ever put that thing back on him again once it was off. He would fight if they should try. Freedom was something he would grab with both hands and never let go of it again.

However, his hopes rose as Shanks started to murmur something. The power of the words shifted the air and goose bumps appeared on Benns’ arms. He always knew when a seal was spoken, and this one was something powerful. However, a moment later the feeling was gone and his necklace still remained where it had been for the last twenty years. The spark of hope that had started to glow in his heart was crushed. He really should have known better. He was a slave and he would remain a slave. All focused on his own pain and disappointment, Benn didn't notice the small tear running down Shanks' face.

Benn focused again when Shanks' knees gave way and the doctor caught him before he could fall to the floor. The other man's expression was even more shocked now, probably wondering what caused his ruler to just lose consciousness. Nevertheless, he held Shanks upright as best he could. Out of habit, Benn shot up, words on his lips. He knew certain spells to stabilize a person, to give back strength and stop her or him from fainting, but it would drain his own energy.

For the second time the air shifted and power filled the room. This time, there was no sudden ending of the spell and Benn's necklace began to glow slightly, the layer of air vanished as if the protective seal had simply dissolved. The hot metal burned what hadn't had time to heal. Blood streamed down Benn's neck, chest and back as he tried to ignore the pain and remain standing. He didn't want to show weakness, didn't want to show how much the burning necklace, the pain and the loss of power that had been needed for the spell to stable Shanks affected him. He wanted to lie down and pass out, but fought against it. In all this agony a small part of him wondered why the necklace was burning again. That had never happened before, even though he had used several spells in his time as a slave.

What should have been a normal spell to break a seal turned out to be absorbing most of Shanks' energy. It was the spell he always used for opening the necklaces of slaves he wanted to free. He never had experienced such a reaction before, and it took him completely by surprise. He would have stopped his words earlier if he had known what would happen, but it just struck him a moment too late. His eyes were fixed on the ring on his finger which seemed to mock him when his vision went black and his knees gave way.

The next thing he realized were soft words flowing through his mind, a soft caress beckoning him to open his eyes. They took away the blackness and the weakness he had felt moments before, as they left his system with a soft caress, like feathers caressing his skin. Shanks’ eyes shot open, his stance steadying in seconds and he freed himself from his doctor, looking questioningly at the man. But Doc only shook his head, negating any action on his part, as his whole expression spoke of wonderment. He didn’t know what was going on, either.

“But how…” Shanks mumbled, confused, and Doc shrugged as his eyes finally wandered to Benn. He made a shocked noise, before he rushed to the man who just stood there, eyes dancing with pain. His whole upper body was smeared with blood, skin shimmering red, because he hadn’t worn a shirt since the time he had been in the auction house. Shanks had intended to give him proper clothes after Doc had seen to him, but that was the last thought on his mind right now. How could Benn just stand there, without saying anything, when it was visible on his face that he was close to fainting? Where did he take the energy from?

While Doc nearly shouted his healing spells, Shanks could only stare wide-eyed. His gaze searched for Benn's, but as he found it, it was empty. The man was too consumed by pain to notice anything else. Guilt built up inside of Shanks. His fingers darted to the ring and he turned it twice as he kept looking down at his hand. It was that little piece of metal that had blocked Shanks' spell. The ring had hindered it from working, absorbing his power to an extent it had caused him to lose consciousness. He had never heard of something like it before. How could Shanks open Benn's necklace when he as his owner wasn't allowed to?

Meanwhile, Doc softly pushed Benn onto the bed. The man had been standing all the time, mind apparently drifting to somewhere he could ignore the pain. However, he didn't resist the doctor's push, and wasn't tensing up at the touch. Perhaps he didn’t even realize it. Doc had stopped the bleeding, but to fully heal the wound, he needed more time and concentration. Shanks wasn't even sure whether the doctor could operate with the metal in the way. But Doc would have to work around it since he wasn’t able to remove he necklace right now. It seemed his doctor though the same as a hiss escaped his mouth and his gaze pierced into Shanks'.

“You have to help me,” he said firmly, and Shanks rushed to him, nodding.

“What do I need to do?”

“Hold up that thing, somehow,” Doc told him and Shanks reached for the necklace, to lift it.

However, the moment his left hand, the one he wore the ring on, touched the cold metal, a wave of dark power crashed through him. He inhaled sharply, trying to hold it back. It was hard, but Shanks managed, though the feeling left him shudder. That was black magic. It wasn't a seal that kept Benn's necklace locked, but a curse. It didn't explain what had happened before, it just made the whole situation more complex and dangerous and maybe it was the reason why a common opening spell hadn't worked.

“Shanks?”

The voice pulled him out of his state of shock, and Shanks looked at his doctor. The other man regarded him with concern, but only got a growl in reply.

“Start your fucking treatment,” Shanks said, and his head turned back to Benn to catch his gaze. His expression was weary, but with relief Shanks realized he was coming back to them. The numbness in his eyes faded away and was replaced by questions. So many questions Shanks couldn't count them. He knew why, but how could he possibly tell Benn that he, as a Yonko and supposedly one of the four strongest people in the world, was too weak to open his necklace and grant him freedom. How could he tell Benn that he couldn't remove his chain, while all the other slaves Shanks had bought beside him would soon be free. No, he would not say a single word, but find a way to open this cursed necklace, too. He would find a way to finally set Benn free.

Healing Benn took longer than Shanks had anticipated. The necklace was in the way, and Doc had to concentrate very hard on the right words. Shanks knew, one false one or a mixed up sentence could require the doctor to start anew and in the worst case it would hurt Benn further. But after what felt like an eternity Doc stepped away and sank down on the floor panting. Shanks’ eyes darted to the skin on Benn’s neck which was still slightly red, and he noticed several scars that weren't covered by the dried blood. Some of them had to be years old while others seemed more recent. With care, Shanks placed the necklace back on the skin, covering up the evidence of all the agony that Benn had endured. Though appearing perfect from the outside, Shanks realized how broken the man in front of him really must be.

“I'm sorry,” Shanks whispered only for Benn's ears to hear and the man looked up, gray eyes puzzled.

“Why?” he asked, a frown on his face, voice low, too. “You helped me.”

“Yes, but it's not enough.”

Shanks' words rang through Benn's mind. He was still trying to get what the other man meant with it when the doctor looked up again. He seemed to be exhausted, but Benn knew he had done good work. This wound had been something not all doctors would have been able to heal, Benn himself would have had trouble with it. He could heal himself, but only to a certain extend. The moment he had helped Shanks and the necklace had burned his skin again, his strength and capabilities would not have been enough.

Helping Shanks hadn't been something Benn had given thought to. He had just reacted, the stabilizing words on his lips before he could wrap his mind around what he was really doing there. He never assumed it would cause his necklace to react, it never had, and he had helped some of his owners before. Never because he really had wanted to, but because he had had to. This time, it had been different, his actions out of free will. But to think… No, surely his decision wasn't the reason for the heat. It would mean a plain piece of metal refused him freedom over his own mind, while already refusing him freedom over his body.

“What happened here?”

The breathless voice of the doctor made Benn focus again. His eyes darted from the blond to Shanks, but the same question was visible in the bright eyes of his new owner, so Benn assumed he had to answer, even though he didn’t have a proper one.

“I don't know. Usually the burning only happens when I switch owners,” Benn explained while he shrugged his shoulders. He made the whole thing appear unimportant to take a bit of the tension away. It failed because Shanks shot him a look that spoke of fury. He didn’t have to raise his voice to make clear he wasn't accepting the understatement. Benn gulped, but didn’t look away. Why the hell did the man care?

“That explains the scars,” came the mumbled reply from the doctor still sitting on the floor. He broke the silent duel between Shanks and Benn who had their eyes locked with each other. The horror in his face shocked Benn. For the first time he realized it wasn't only Shanks who cared. “Whoever had healed you all the time did a good job, though. Even I can't prevent scars every time. I'm sorry.”

The words baffled Benn, but he didn't dare to correct the man. Back then he had healed himself, something he had needed to learn out of necessity. None of his old owners had cared enough to send a doctor to look at him. The first time he had been sold, he had been sixteen. It had been the first time he was solely considered a pleasure slave, desire attracted by a body that wasn't even fully grown. It had been a painful healing. He hadn’t even had a clue what he was doing back then, when a shattered mind had worked on a shattered body.

“He did it himself,” Shanks said numbly and both Benn and the doctor jerked slightly, but Benn managed to hide his surprise a little better. He shouldn't wonder how the redhead knew, since Shanks had stopped him when he had tried to heal himself earlier.

“He did it… what?” Doc stuttered, and his gaze shot from Shanks to Benn and back.

For some reason, Benn wanted to laugh at the baffled man. The way he was unable to grasp the situation was hilarious. The whole situation was hilarious. What was the problem with Benn healing himself? It shouldn't be something important. After a moment, the doctor managed to pull himself back together, and his eyes pierced Shanks, but whatever answer he tried to find in the other man's face wasn’t there. Slowly, he looked over to Benn, and he took a deep breath before he spoke. “Could you tell me who taught you?”

“No one,” Benn answered and shrugged again. He didn't like the tension in the room. He didn't like that these people even cared so much about it that they asked. He would only start to like them if they were friendly and then he would get hurt. There was no need for that. “I had the choice to either be punished for ruining my owner's clothes or heal myself. I chose the latter option.”

Did he sound arrogant? Yes, he probably did, but Benn didn't care. If they punished him for his words, he would at least know they were like everyone else. He even wished they would, just so he didn’t have to wonder anymore why this redhead and his companions were so different. Why he felt so close to him. He felt like he could read Shanks like an open book. The words lay in front of him, he read them with ease, but Benn had no idea where the story would go to. He was even more clueless when Shanks spoke, anger covering his voice.

“You better never worry about clothes again.”

It was an advice, but somehow it also sounded like a hidden threat, as if in case Shanks ever found those who had forced Benn to choose, the last thing these people would worry about were their clothes, but rather their lives.

Chapter Text

When Shanks sent Doc to show Benn the way to his room in the tavern, he was alone with his thoughts for a moment. Absentmindedly, he turned the ring around his finger again and again, trying to understand the mystery behind it. But all he could feel was cold metal, furrowed by the usual carvings that identified an owner’s ring. The subtle difference in its presence was still there, though the longer he wore it, the more he got used to it. He could have spoken a disillusion spell to find out what was hidden beneath the gold, but he was afraid. The thought of hurting Benn again made him falter, and the image of all the blood still shocked Shanks. It had been so much blood, so much…

He jerked when the door opened, but it was only Doc. He shot him a concerned look, and not all of his tension vanished with the recognition. A weary smile was on Shanks' lips as he got up from the floor to sit on the bed. Finally, his fingers let go of the ring and he ran his hand through his hair.

“He's alright?” Shanks asked, his heart beating a little too hard. Only when Doc nodded, it slowed down again. He let out a sigh of relief that got him a risen eyebrow from his doctor.

“You care for him,” he said blandly and after a moment of trying and failing to deny his feelings, Shanks nodded. Yes, he did care for Benn. He didn't know him well, had just bought him from a man he detested as Shanks detested every auctioneer, and still Shanks had to admit that something drew him to Benn. He wondered what it was. He wondered if it would ever go away.

As it became apparent that Shanks didn't intend to say more about the subject, the doctor raised his voice again, expressing his concerns. Shanks had known this would come, he knew what would be said the moment the other man opened his mouth.

“He is powerful,” Doc said, but Shanks just shrugged and nodded. Yes, Benn truly was and Shanks couldn't deny it. Not after Benn's spell had stabilized him earlier, and especially not after the rush of power Shanks had felt by putting the ring on his finger to accept the man as his possession. The thought made him sick. He had never wanted to own someone, he just wanted Benn to be free. But it seemed his wish wouldn't be granted. At least not yet.

“I never heard of someone who naturally managed to learn a healing spell. It took me two years to properly perform one,” Doc added a little more firmly, but Shanks just nodded again.

“I know.” Shanks had been there, had seen it. When Doc asked permission to become a doctor, he had arranged for him to be trained. The man had been a slave himself for five years until Shanks had freed him like he had freed the majority of his most trusted men. It had been three years ago, so Shanks had been only twenty then.

“Shanks!” It was almost a shout. For the first time, Shanks looked directly at the blond man instead of looking through him. He sighed, he couldn’t explain it either.

“I’ll visit Rayleigh when we're back home. Agreed?” he asked, and Doc flinched but agreed. What else could he do?

They traveled by ship from Kaidou's territory to Shanks’. It wasn't the first time Benn had seen a ship as big as the Red Force, but it was the first time he actually was aboard one. It was impressive, and the thought of traveling was exciting to him even though it was nothing new.   He had changed owners more often than most of the other slaves, who had never seen anything else than the house they served in.

After about a week, they crossed the border between the two territories of the Yonkos. No one told them, but it was obvious since the mood on the ship changed noticeably. When they were still sailing on the river Albara, a side arm of the Sandora River which marked the border between Shanks’ and Kaidou’s territory, there had been people out on deck day and night to stand guard against a potential attack. It hadn’t changed when they had reached the Sandora, as they were still not in Shanks’ territory. But apparently another side arm of it – the Mano River - reached into Shanks’ area, or so Benn had overheard during one of the meals. It was only when they reached it that things got calmer and less tense on the Red Force.

They had been in Shanks' territory for a day or so when Benn realized the subtle changes with interest. Laughter was heard more often and the crew, meaning the free men who were part of Shanks' escort, sung and drank. There were less people on watch, only two at a time, and Shanks joined in the fun, too. Benn had seen him dance with all sorts of people, no matter who they were or what status they held. He even took some of the slaves by the hands - men, women, children - and swirled them around laughing and cheering. It didn’t even have to be evening time for the crew to celebrate. The musicians just played whenever they were in the mood and they were in the mood whenever they didn't have any duties to do.

Benn was mostly outside. He even had been on deck when they had still been in Kaido's territory. He loved to feel the wind on his face, the way it tousled his hair, and to breathe in the fresh breeze. This felt like freedom to him, however odd that was because he was anything but free.  He decided that if he ever was released, he wanted to have the possibility to go and sail wherever he wanted to.

To his astonishment, Shanks was on deck a lot as well. He looked at ease when he stood at the railing, his eyes dreamy. It was strange to see the man like that. He usually was – as far as Benn could judge without much knowledge of him - loud, cheery, hyper even, but when he looked at the waves he seemed calm. Still there was a yearning in his eyes, even though it was subtle. Benn wondered what Shanks, who probably could buy anything he desired, yearned for?

The night before they moored and finally went ashore again, Shanks ordered all of the slaves into the great mass hall of the ship. No one had a real clue why they did have to gather, and anxiety spread through the people. Usually a gathering like this meant something drastic. What litte hope and happiness had grown during their journey on the Red Force began to vanish until they saw what awaited them. It was a feast, delicious dishes and drinks for all of them. They were told to forget the necklaces around their throats for a night, to just enjoy what Shanks had to offer, and he had a lot. He offered friendliness and encouragement, joy and hope, a night for happiness only and more than a few slaves really forgot that they were enslaved. Especially the children, who were contagious in their joyous way of taking everything in, reveled in the unexpected celebration as if they had never endured slavery. Benn really wanted to join them, to stop thinking about the cursed necklace for just one night. He wanted to dance and laugh and enjoy life like the kids did, without being constantly aware of the fact that this was just a farce. But he couldn't. Not when he felt Shanks' gaze on him wherever he went.

When they reached the palace, it was huge - bigger and a lot more luxurious than Benn had expected after seeing the tavern they had stayed in the first night. The outer walls glimmered golden and red in the sunlight. They were built of a certain stone from the Redline, a mountain chain that separated one half of the common land from the other. There were some palm trees covering the entrance, but most of the front was shimmering stone. It looked luxurious, yet somewhat cold, but people murmured wonderful gardens could be found at the backside of the building.

The group was led through several hallways and with relief Benn noticed that the interior didn't match the front of the palace at all. What he had seen by now reminded him of the welcoming, cozy feeling of the old tavern they had slept in the first night. The walls were decorated in tapestries that looked classy but a little rugged, the furniture was made out of old polished wood, and when Benn saw some dust bunnies in the corners, he couldn't stop himself from grinning. This was nothing like the noble houses he had been in before, and some of the tension he had felt earlier vanished.

When they entered a huge hall with a raised pedestal in it, the dreadful feeling came back at once. All the other people around him tensed as well, looking around or just staring into nothingness. Shanks and his men would probably tell them now what they had been bought for, and since all of them - children, women and men - were placed in one room, it couldn't be something good. But after the feast on the Red Force no one knew exactly what to expect. Back then they had thought something bad would happen too, and in the end, they had gotten a celebration exclusively for them.

It didn't take long before Shanks appeared on the little stage and Benn stepped into a shadowy corner. He didn't know why, but he still felt different from the others. He was the only one the Yonko had bought out of his own purse. Now Benn was aware of it more than ever.

However, when Shanks smiled the tension vanished and the mood of the crowd seemed to become lighter. It was like he enveloped all of the people inside the room with it, and when he started to speak, his soft voice carried into every corner.

“I know you are afraid and I know you wonder why you're here. You are slaves, some of you have been slaves all their lives. This will change now.” Benn could hear the whole group gasp in surprise, but somehow he himself didn't feel addressed by those words. They only made him sad. “From this day on you aren’t slaves anymore. I never wanted to own slaves and I will never allow slavery in my land. From this day on, you're free.”

The moment Shanks spoke the last words a clattering sound rang through the whole room. All the necklaces had dropped and suddenly cheers, tears and shouts of praise filled the air - it was a happy moment indeed. No one took notice of Benn as he pressed himself further into the corner, tears rolling across his face silently. His hands gripped at his necklace, yanking at it, but it stayed where it was. He still was a slave and he had never felt lonelier in his life.

After most of the noise subsided, Shanks explained they were now free to choose whether they wanted to stay in the palace and work for him, or leave and try to find their luck elsewhere. He then stepped from the stage, leaving the rest of the work to Yasopp, Roo and some other men Benn didn't know the name of, Benn only registered half of it. By now, he sat on the floor, his tears dried and mind somewhere where no one could follow. He had never hated being a slave more than now that everyone else around him was free.

“I'm sorry. Come on, you need to get out of here,” a gentle voice told him, and Benn blindly reached towards it. A hand gripped his, warm fingers entangled with his, but it was the feeling of a cold metal ring that made him look up eventually. Shanks led him, red hair swaying with the rhythm of his silent steps. He didn't turn around until they had left the hall. When they stopped, the Yonko finally faced him, looking sad and sorry. Benn wanted to believe the regret he saw on Shanks’ face was genuine, but how could he when it was clear that Benn would remain a prisoner while everyone else had been released?

It seemed Shanks wanted to say something, he opened his mouth twice, but no words left his lips. In the end, he just remained silent as Benn's expression switched to indifferent again. He had shown his pain and he wouldn't allow that to happen again. This man could own his body, but not his soul. Never, not if Benn could prevent it. There was enough damage done already.

Eventually they started moving again. This time Shanks let go of his hand, but Benn followed either way. Running away would probably cost his life and Benn wasn't ready for that step yet. He needed an answer first. An answer to whether freedom was worth more than your life.

After a few minutes of walking in silence, they reached a door made from simple darkish wood and Shanks opened it, but didn't make any move to go inside. Instead, he spoke for the first time since they had left the hall.

“This is your room here in the palace. No one else is allowed inside, not even me. If you need something, just ask… My room's next to yours. There's a connecting door between the two rooms, though I will not use it. I promise,” Shanks said in a low voice, a hint of sorrow still audible in it. He bit his lip and Benn wondered if he meant what he said. That he wouldn't come inside. Well, he would see.

Silence wavered between them and Benn intended to go inside before it could grow too large. He guessed that Shanks was done for now and he was dismissed. However, the Yonko’s next words stopped him although they were merely a whisper.

“I'm sorry about this. I know you don't believe me, but you were included when I said all of you are free. You're not a slave anymore, Benn. I don't see you as one.”

Benn just wanted to walk on, close that door and be alone. Instead, he turned, without looking at the man in front of him. He was staring right through him when he answered. Feelings locked away, deep down in his soul where no one could reach and shatter them.

“I'll always be a slave.”

Then he finally turned and shut Shanks out. Benn didn't pay attention to the interior of his room, nor did he see the freshly washed set of nightwear laying on a chair. Everything was prepared to make him feel welcome but the numbness in him kept him from noticing. He just slipped underneath the sheets of the bed and forced himself to sleep. But the pained look on Shanks' face when he had spoken haunted him, even in his dreams.

Shanks stared at the closed door, not really realizing he was shivering. The feeling of being the biggest asshole in the world overwhelmed him and weighted heavy on his heart. He had made Benn endure witnessing the release of all the other former slaves, while his necklace remained around his throat. Shanks had hoped it just would fall off as well when he had woven the spell into his speech. He hadn't excluded Benn, but still it hadn't worked. The silent tears, the pain-stricken face, Shanks knew he would not be able to forget those images.

After a while Shanks moved and made his way back to the hall. It was barely evening and there was work to do. He had to help with showing his new employees around, had to make sure those people would get what they needed to settle in. More than half of the now former slaves had chosen to seek their luck elsewhere. Even though Shanks had freed them, they weren't willing to report to him as their superior at work after all. The Yonko understood the choice and bestowed a generous amount of money on each of them to find a new home and start a life as a free man. What happened to them from now on wasn't in his hands anymore.

Those who chose to stay with and work for Shanks would be granted a room and monthly wages. They would be interviewed about what they liked to do and were good at, and based on their answers a suitable position in the palace would be found for them. Also they would be served three meals a day and could rent themselves a flat somewhere in the city if they preferred.

Most of the workers in Shanks' castle were former slaves. Even his most trusted men were, except for Yasopp whose father had died early and left his son to beg on the streets. He had been taken in by an old blacksmith and continued to run the business when his foster father died years later. It had gone well until a trickster had cheated him on some important investments. All of his money had been lost and he had had no idea what to do. Fate had brought the two of them together. Shanks had needed a blacksmith to repair his sword and he had heard Yasopp was the best in town. It had been shortly after Shanks had become Yonko and he hadn’t been sure how to act in such a situation, so he made a deal with Yasopp. He would help him find and sue the trickster who had bankrupted him, and in return the man would become his personal armorer. In the end, it also got each of them a new friend.

The hall where everyone had gathered earlier was now fairly empty. The people who had chosen to leave had already been led to a place where they could sleep. They hadn't had to move right away when the sun was already sinking but could sleep another night in the palace before they would go on to find their own way. The remaining people, many of whom were women and children, talked with several of Shanks' men in the hall. His men were to find out what kind of duties the former slaves had had to do before, to get an idea of what task to assign them to. Shanks didn't want to give them just any jobs but something that matched the skills of each person. Not only because it would help them to settle in his castle, but also because people usually were more efficient and content when they did something they enjoyed. No one had to do what they had been doing as slaves if they didn't want to. Plus, the children would be sent to a school Shanks had set up especially for former slaves.

Shanks’ gaze wandered until he found Roo who was talking with what looked like a small family. The man was holding the hand of the woman next to him while a small girl, maybe three years old, nearly dozed off. She had a cute little face, brown eyes and hair. They all seemed exhausted, but the smiles on their faces were genuine.

Shanks remembered them to be a married couple who had the luck to be still together. He hadn't had the heart to separate the little family so he had just bought all three. He was somewhat glad they had chosen to stay with him. It would have been hard for them out there all by themselves without any support.

“I used to be a history teacher, but I'm used to doing other task as well. I can work hard, carry heavy things, maybe work as a builder. Just please don't make my wife work at building sites...” Shanks overheard the man telling Roo rather desperately until he recognized him and bowed down, as did his wife. “Your Highness...”

A sigh escaped Shanks' lips at the formality and he waved for them to straighten again immediately. “That's not necessary,” he told them firmly. Most of the people Shanks freed assumed their work wouldn't differ much from what they had had to do as slaves, but that was not why he bought and freed them in the first place. Sometimes, it was hard to even find out what they were good at because they were afraid to speak. His gaze caught the curious look of the girl. Her eyes were fixed on his hair. It still amused him how interested some kids were in the color of his strands. Kneeling down, Shanks smiled at the girl and when she realized Shanks wasn't really scary, she crossed the small distance and plucked at his hair.

“You look funny.”

“Rika, stop. I apologize, Goddess, Rika, stop…” the woman cried out, desperate to stop her daughter, but Shanks just laughed and lifted the girl into his arms, not caring that she pulled at his hair.

Instead, he encouraged her a little, pouting in a playful manner. “That is a mean thing to say, not all people can have such fabulous hair as yours.”

The girl giggled, taking one of her own strands to hold it next to Shanks'. Glee sparkled in her eyes. “Mommy look, my hair is fabo... fobu... fabulous,” she stated matter-of-factly even though she had problems pronouncing the difficult word correctly. Shanks chuckled when he saw the woman blush in a bright red.

“I'm sorry, Your Highness,” she mumbled again, but Shanks brushed it off.

“It's fine. I love children and I am glad you could stay together as a family.” His gaze wandered from the woman to the man, who looked a little dumbfounded and shocked. But the expression faded under Shanks encouraging smile. “There are a lot of children under my care, now even more, and I want to make sure all of them get a good education. There is no need for you or your wife to work on any building sites. You can teach at my school, where your girl is very welcome as well.”

For a moment, both of the parents stood in stunned silence, before the man indicated a little bow. His whole stance spoke of honest gratitude. “Thank you so much.”

“Do I have to sit in Papa's class then, as well?” Rika asked, still on Shanks' arm, and for a moment everyone just looked at the girl. Then Shanks burst into laughter and the rest joined in after a second. This girl was an enrichment for the palace, through and through.

“Yes sweetie, I think you’ll have to,” Shanks managed to say after the chuckling and laughing had subsided. These were the moments that made it worth going through the hassle of buying slaves. It was worth it, it always was.

After another three hours every last former slave had been cared for, and Shanks sank onto the floor, sighing. He was soon joined by Doc, Yasopp and Roo, the latter handing him a bottle of sake. He took it with a grateful smile, but didn't drink.

“What's wrong?”, Yasopp asked noting that odd behavior. Usually, Shanks never hesitated to open a bottle of alcohol after such a busy day. Not when everything was alright. So it was obvious that something wasn't. But Shanks didn't answer right away, trying to form the right words in his mind. He was still thinking when Doc spoke.

“It is because of that Benn, am I right?” he asked and Shanks just sighed again before he nodded. Right, Doc had witnessed that strange magic of the necklace. He knew.

“It again didn't work. I've never seen a lonelier, more disappointed man.” Shanks looked up, pain shimmering in his eyes. “He cried, but what was even worse was the indifference that came afterwards. It's like a wall, making sure no one can hurt him. I can only guess what has happened to him and that is enough to break a person. He will never be able to believe he's free until that necklace has come off.”

While Shanks had been talking, Roo and Yasopp had looked equally irritated, until that last statement. When they realized what must have happened, their expressions were shocked. It was the first time they heard of Shanks' power failing.

“How can that be?” Roo asked after the silence became too loud. Shanks, though, only shrugged. He wasn't sure himself. He just knew someone must really have hated Benn to curse his necklace like that.

“I don't know… but I'll find out. I’ll definitely find out.”

With these words, he pushed himself upright and headed for his room. He had to contact Rayleigh. His bottle was left behind, still closed. Concern spread over the faces of the ones who remained sitting as they watched the redhead walk away. They all knew being such a young Yonko was a burden, but somehow they had the feeling the burden had been increased markedly in the last few hours.

Chapter Text

The sun was slowly rising in the east when Benn woke up. He was confused at first, not really sure where he was and what had happened, but then all the memories flashed back to him. The clatter of metal hitting the floor, the warm hand that pulled him away and those sad eyes when Shanks told him he didn't see him as a slave. As much as he wanted to believe in those words, the necklace around his throat reminded him of what he truly was and always would be.

In an attempt of self-pity, Benn considered to just pull the blanket over his head and try to shut the world out. But that wouldn't help his situation and it wasn't like him to act like a teenager. Instead, he rose to his feet and looked around. He still wore yesterday's cloths, rumpled and creased. He sighed and pulled the dirty, white linen shirt over his head. He wore it for two days. In the tavern room in which he had been sleeping for the first night, after he had seen the doctor, he had found these cloths on the bed, ready for him. It wasn't much, just some shirts and two trousers, but at least it was something to wear. After a while he had found out that Shanks had provided all of the slaves with new clothes. Benn gulped. They were now former slaves, except of him.

He threw the shirt onto the bed and ran a hand through his black hair. It hung loosely around his face and he wondered if he would be able to find something to hold it back. His former master had liked it better when it hung open, but it always was in the way. He wondered if Shanks would care. He would certainly find out.

It wasn't really bright in the room, as he hadn't lit any candles or lights. Instead, the orange shimmer of the rising sun lit up the furniture in a soft glow, and Benn spotted a nightstand next to his bed. There was also a huge wardrobe he didn't find much sense in, as he would never own enough clothes to fill it – unless his new master liked to dress him up, but Benn doubted Shanks wanted to use him as a doll.

Then there was the door he had come in yesterday, and on the right was another one that had to be the connection to Shanks' quarters, as the wood of the double wing doors was a shimmering mahogany and contained several filigree carvings. With surprise he also spotted a third door a little next to the wardrobe, and when he opened it, he found himself standing in a little bathroom. Over the sink were the toiletries he needed. Toothpaste and a toothbrush, a comb, as well as some soap. There were also white towels laying ready on the closed lid of the toilet. Deciding it couldn't hurt, he brushed his teeth but avoiding to look in the mirror. No need to face himself, yet.

The last thing he saw when he entered his room again, was a desk. It looked rather empty, only some stationery was placed on it. A few pens, a notepad and, much to his surprise, also a neatly folded package of clothes. He hadn't noticed anyone coming in during the night, but it seemed like someone had brought him something to wear. Or the package had been in here before he had entered the room. But how could they have known Shanks would host him here? The few clothes he had possessed on board of the Red Force and during his travels were in a bag, which he had forgotten in the big hall. Not that he cared, it hadn't contained anything of worth anyway. Only on second thought he realized that Shanks had broken the promise of no one entering without Benn’s permission. Somehow, he doubted the clothes had been in here yesterday night. Benn sighed, suppressing the feeling of disappointment. Why had he given it any consideration anyway?

He reached for the clothes when he saw a small note on top of it. Blinking in irritation, Benn opted for reading it first and unfolded it. His eyes darted over the curved handwriting and despite all the circumstances, he could only shake his head. This man was insane.

I wasn't in your room. I promise. I used a place-changing-spell. I hope I hit the desk. My aim never was good.
Use the scarf.
Shanks

Automatically, his eyes scanned the clothes, and it didn't take him long to spot the red of the scarf he had worn on the day Shanks had bought him. Reaching for it, he pulled it out from between the rest of the fabric and just held it in his hand. It was as soft as he remembered, and freshly washed. Regarding it closer, he scanned it for any signs of the blood that had soaked it the last time he had held the fabric in his hands, and realized it was as new. There was not even a single stain on it. Gulping, Benn sat back on his bed, trying to process what this meant.

He had feared the glances of the rest of the people. It shouldn't have bothered him, but the thought of all the pity he would probably get from the others who had been slaves but weren't anymore, had made him uneasy. Benn didn't need sympathy, he knew he was an outcast, even under outcasts. Coping with it was not the problem, yet he knew it would wear him out. He was only human after all, even though people tended to forget that when seeing the necklace around a neck.

The fabric felt cold and silky under his fingers, and Benn wondered why Shanks went through so much trouble. He couldn't deny he was relieved that the man hadn't been into his room. He just didn't know why. When he looked through the clothes, he realized it was more than just one set, and he also noticed a set of nightwear on the chair. This had probably been in here before he had entered the room, ready for him to sleep in it after the long journey. Well, he just hadn't seen it at all.

In the end, he slipped into what seemed like the most unremarkable set of clothes - black trousers and a dark blue shirt. As all of the cloths in these warm regions, the fabric was light and airy. To his surprise, it also was long enough. He was extremely tall, even for a man. With slight confusion on his face, he regarded the rest of the clothes and then shrugged. As he placed them neatly in the wardrobe, Benn couldn’t help but think that they really looked lost in there, in all that empty space.

There was also a mirror on the inside of the door of the wardrobe, and with a growl, Benn couldn’t delay to take a look at his face anymore. Gray, tired eyes looked back at him, the black rings underneath standing out on pale clear skin. He never slept much, but yesterday evening had taken its toll on him. Whispered words, a simple spell he had learned years ago, covered all evidence of the lack of sleep. This way he could make himself look fresh and as if he had had the perfect night’s sleep. It was just what his masters had wanted from him, even though he almost never felt like it. No spell could grant you energy just like that. He either had to sleep or claim the energy from someone else who would suffer from the loss. Both wasn't possible here, all he could do was illusion. He checked his face again, the dark rings under his eyes were gone. Then he slung the scarf around his neck, made sure his necklace wasn't visible anymore and headed for the door.

No one had told him what to do, but he assumed Shanks couldn't be much different than most of his former owners, who usually just wanted one thing in the morning and that was breakfast. Benn would see if breakfast included him as well or not.

Outside of his room, Benn looked from left to right, not sure where to go. He had a good sense of direction, but he hadn't really paid much attention to where Shanks had dragged him yesterday. Not that it would have helped much, as he had no idea where the kitchen was. Maybe someone would cross his path and he could ask?

Before he could reach a decision though, a man rounded the corner and stopped, looking stunned. Then he grinned and yelled over at Benn, sounding more enthusiastic than it was legal for a man at this early hour. It was Roo, the other companion who had been with Shanks on the day in the auction house, and he grinned like he had had the best sleep in ages.

“You're up early. Good morning!”

Benn blinked, irritated, before his senses kicked in and he stepped back slightly. Bowing his head, he wondered if the man knew about the necklace underneath the scarf or not. Any other person would probably assume he had been freed as all the other slaves, but this man definitely was a closer companion to his master than the other people he had seen on the Red Force. Shanks could have told him.

Meanwhile, the big man closed the distance, faster than Benn had thought he would be able to.  Roo seemed like an easy-going man as far as Benn could say without knowing him well.  They had traveled together, but nonetheless, the slaves had always kept their distance from Shanks' men, out of given reasons.

“Good morning,” he mumbled as a reply, his tone even and friendly. His gaze was locked on the floor, so as not to draw any attention. However, he jerked when Roo spoke with firm, but soft words.

“You can look at me,” he said and Benn did as he was told, just because refusal was nothing to consider. A shadow of sadness rushed over the man's face, but maybe it was just Benn's imagination, because it was gone quickly. What remained was an encouraging smile. “Where did you want to go?”

“The kitchen,” Benn answered honestly, and Roo nodded, waving his hand to indicate Benn to follow him. He just started walking while he talked.

“Good, that's where I'm heading at the moment. You must be hungry, you haven't eaten anything yesterday evening, am I right? I'll make you some breakfast, before I start working.”

The words caused Benn to look up in bafflement, and he had to concentrate on his feet not to stumble. He had looked away politely again, although he couldn't force himself to do so now.  Someone else wanted to make breakfast for him? That had to be a joke. A joke he didn't find funny in the slightest.

“I can make my own breakfast, after I served His Highness,” he declared in a reserved tone, but to his astonishment Roo turned, frowning. He even stopped walking, and Benn nearly bumped into the man. He wanted to apologize, but was beat by his company.

“Listen, Shanks can totally serve himself, and he wouldn't allow it anyway. Not to mention he isn't here anymore, but went to visit someone. Also, when I want to make you breakfast, I will do just that. It’s my kitchen and before someone messes with it, it’s over my dead body. Understood?”

Benn was so taken aback by those words he could only nod. It seemed enough for the other man, and for a while they walked in silence. It was good for remembering the way, though curiosity   got the better of him and he just had to ask. “You're a cook?”

The question earned Benn a chuckle, before Roo answered. “Surprised?”

To be honest, Benn was, and he shrugged, so as not to show it too much. “I hadn't thought of His Highn...” he started, but was interrupted by Roo.

“Shanks!”

So Benn cut off the word and continued, even though it sounded strange to call his owner by his name so casually. “…Shanks would have his cook as one of his closest… ministers,” Benn ended, though he wasn't sure if he had phrased it right. He wasn't sure if Roo was a minister or not, but he assumed he was, as he had accompanied His Highness to the auction house. He was close to Shanks, so he would surely have a high position in this court. Any other thing would just be strange.

“I'm no minister. I'm a cook. Simple as that. Just happened that I'm friends with a Yonko as well. You'll understand after a while,” Roo said as he opened a door which led into what seemed like a big dining hall. There were five rows of tables filling the room. How many people ate here? “Sit down. I'll make you something. Coffee or tea?”

Benn could just stare and follow the words. This hall was huge, larger than some grand dancing halls he had seen. “Coffee,” he mumbled as he looked at Roo's back, who vanished through a door into what must be the actual kitchen. Were there any other rooms as big as this one in here? Was someone like Shanks even having a dancing hall? The man had danced on the Red Force, though it hadn't been any official standard dances. A Yonko had to know the current etiquette, right? Benn would need time to process everything that happened here, that much he was sure of. Especially when he realized he had just for a moment forgotten he was a slave.

After a while in which Benn tried to sort his thoughts, Roo returned with a tray in his hands. It was loaded with a mug filled with coffee, and two small containers filled with milk and sugar, both things Benn didn't need and usually also didn't get. Then there was pita bread, different kinds of cheese and ham, as well as scrambled eggs. He also spotted what looked like some kind of berry jam. The last time Benn had had jam was… He wasn't sure, it had to have been years ago. The astonishment must have been visible in his face, because Roo frowned.

“Anything you don't like?” he asked, but Benn just shook his head no, as the chef placed the breakfast in front of him. This was what he usually served his masters, he had never had such a plentiful meal in his life, ever.

“Well then, enjoy your meal,” Roo added up, when Benn remained staring, not sure if he was allowed to touch any of this. Still swamped by the choices he took the coffee and took a sip. The moment he tasted the liquid his eyes widened. This was one of the best brewed coffee's he ever had. How could this all be for him? He was a slave, people usually didn't care for him. Somehow it seemed to dawn upon Roo what was bothering Benn, because a sad hint played in his eyes, as he leaned back in his stool.

“You never had something like it before,” he said, and it wasn't a question.

Benn just shook his head, readying himself for the pity that would come. His lips became a thin line. He had survived till this day, he didn't need false sympathy from people who didn't understand what it meant to be enslaved.

But Roo just smiled and stole a slice of ham from the plate. “Well, there is always a first. Eat, and when you're done you can help me in the kitchen. There are around a hundred other people who wanna have some breakfast as well. They aren't as frugal as you.”

“You always cook for all of them alone?” Benn asked disbelieving, to both the answer and the way Roo had acted towards him. A hundred different people, and they would all eat here, probably getting a meal like he just got. The amount of time, effort, gosh even the amount of money that breakfast alone must cost the court every day was huge. Why did they do this? How did they do this? None of the questions came out of Benn's mouth, even though they burned on his tongue. But Roo just chuckled at the sight of him or probably at his question, while he considered his statement.

“No way, but my assistant's ill and the rest of the cooks will not come in before lunchtime,” he explained and as the cook went on chatting, Benn finally started to eat, all the while eager to learn more.

Shanks had tried to reach Rayleigh when he had finished all his work and was sure each of his new employees was cared for. However, all he got when their minds connected through the spell he used was a closed door. He wasn't allowed inside Ray's head and when the old man didn't want to speak to him, Shanks had no way to force him. Very few people could shut him out, but his old teacher was one of them.

A communication spell was actually really simple, it was nothing close to mind-reading, which didn't exist. A lot of people who barely even managed seals and spells, where able to use it. The thing was, as far as both parties agreed on the communication, it was like hearing the other in one’s head. The words just didn't need air to travel, the magic itself carried them from place to place, when allowed by both users. What needed more concentration and power was forcing the other person to permit the access into the head. It was like a constant knocking on a door. After a while it became so obtrusive and annoying most people just allowed the entry into their mind. Usually Shanks was really good at being annoying, but Rayleigh could manage to bang the door into his face and close it in such a way, that he didn't have the strength to go on being annoying.

After a while though, when Shanks had nearly dozed off because the day had exhausted him, there was a gentle knock at the barriers of his mind and with a sigh he let Ray in. Closing his eyes he concentrated on the connection. It was always easier to just focus on the voice without seeing his surroundings. He could imagine Rayleigh was somewhere in the room, speaking with him face to face, and not being miles away.

“You really pick the worst times to call.” The familiar voice sounded through his head, and the wish to smack his old teacher rose in no time. Worst times? It had been late evening, what the hell was he doing at that time that was so important, anyway? Than it hit Shanks and he growled, not sure if he should be annoyed or just embarrassed about it. He had no vigor left to deal with something like it.

“Just because you pick the worst times to bang Shakky doesn't mean it's my fault!” Shanks replied sassyly and tried to get the pictures out of his head. It wasn't working at all. He really needed to sleep after that conversation.

“I don't apologize to have sex with my wife, oh Lord Highness.”

Shanks growled at the title. Ray should be glad he wasn't around for him to smack him. Not that he would ever manage to hit him, as Ray was a lot faster than Shanks ever would be, but he could try.

“Stop that,” Shanks pouted and he could hear the laugh in his head.

“You never grow up, do you?”

Shanks could imagine the look on his old teacher's face, and he even waved his hand, as if he wanted to shoo away a fly. The image didn't vanish, though. Sometimes Shanks hated that man for his cockiness.

“No, I don't. Not my fault you made me accept that position, so live with it,” he said and then added, finally coming to the point, “I need to see you.”

“When?” Ray didn't beat around the bush. He probably heard the concern in his voice. Shanks knew it seeped through. There was no need to hide it, as he intended to tell Rayleigh the whole story when they met. He trusted him alone to seal the ring, as the man was the only person alive that had enough power to block Shanks' own magic, which was indeed powerful.

“Tomorrow. The earlier the better.” Shanks hoped the man was at home, but since he had just been with Shakky, the possibility was high he was, even though sometimes he could vanish for more than a month. No one knew where he went then, not even his own wife.

“Meet me at ten at Shakky's place. I'm there.”

Shanks counted in his head. Meeting Ray at ten meant he had to stand up at least at five. Shakky's bar was located at a town called Sabaody, which lay at the border of Shanks' territory and was a neutral area. None of the Yonkos had managed to claim it, as it was one of the fixing points that separated their' areas. After endless battles and the intervention of even the Government itself, it was declared neutral territory.  Shanks shrugged. Six hours of sleep would have to be enough.

“Fine, see you at ten in the morning,” Shanks replied and shut off the connection, but heard the reverberation of Ray's last few words.

“Wait! Morning? Are you serious...”

Shanks had decided to quit breakfast in favor of a few more minutes of sleep. He would need the energy for the ride, sitting on a horse for almost four hours was exhausting but he also didn't want to force Roo out of bed so early. The man would have gotten up for him for sure, but Shanks had convinced him to stay put and make sure everything was alright while he was gone. There was no need for him to stay longer than a day, but with Shakky and Ray, Shanks never knew. He had told everyone else he would be back the other day.

Somewhere along the way, Shanks had stopped for a short break and something to eat, but the sun had prompted him to better move on. It was up high in the sky now and Shanks didn't want to lose time or stay out in the heat longer than necessary. Now his chestnut walked through the dusty streets of the familiar town he visited way too often for his liking. Not that he didn't like Rayleigh, but nearly every time he visited the old man it was because something was not going well in his kingdom.

Pushing his hood deeper over his hair, he made sure no one would recognize him at first sight. His red hair gave away his identity easily, and he didn't need the commotion. After a while the houses became more rugged, the area more filthy. Shakky wasn't living in the noble quarter after all. Then he spotted the sign of her bar and a grin stretched across Shanks' face. 'Rip-off Bar'. Whenever he read that he just couldn't deny that he liked the woman.

Before he was properly off his horse, the door opened with a loud bang and an angry looking Rayleigh stepped out. As soon as he spotted Shanks, the anger made way for worry though, and he reached for the snaffle to lead the animal away, as soon as its rider was back on his feet. Shanks just shook his head and said nothing. There was no need, and he didn't have the energy to do so. He wasn't here to search for a fight. While Rayleigh led the horse to a small stable behind the bar, his eyes followed his former teacher. The silver hair sparkled in the sun. It made Shanks really worried that he hadn't even been greeted.

“You know, you're one of the very few people who can make him act like this at all.” The soft voice managed to make Shanks turn again, and he smiled when he saw the woman. In her hand was a cigarette, as always, but she stumped it out. It was all the invitation Shanks needed to close the distance and give her a hug.

“Hello Shakky,” he mumbled and buried his head in the crook of her neck. He needed this, after all that happened, and the woman was what came closest to his mother.

“Good to see you, Shanks,” she replied softly. It was something unusual, as she was normally very tough. A force nothing could break, and a lot of people would love to own. No one had ever managed. Not even Ray, but he also had never tried.

When they parted again, Shanks felt a little better, even though he was still exhausted and tired. Stepping away from Shakky, he turned to see whether Rayleigh was coming back. He wouldn't have needed to, though, because the man just made his way over to him. His horse seemed to be properly taken care of, as there wasn’t much noise other than a low neigh coming from afar – probably Shakky’s horse greeting his chestnut. Shanks knew Shakky kept a horse herself, since it was the smartest means of transport in these regions.

“Ray-”, Shanks started but before he could say anything more, he felt his former teacher's fist on his head, hitting him hard. He let out an “ouch” and wanted to protest, but was shut off by another embrace. This one felt different. It was more secure, a pleasant reminder that the old man cared for him still, after all those years.

“Idiot,” Ray mumbled, just a quick outburst of his feelings before he let go. Somehow Shanks could only smile at it.

They moved inside, and Shakky even locked the door although there would hardly be any guest coming this early in the morning. Then she excused herself to fetch them something to eat and some coffee. It seemed that the two of them had just gotten up and not eaten a proper breakfast yet. Rayleigh sat down on the couch, while Shanks remained standing. After sitting on a horse for such a long time, it was good to feel solid ground under his feet again and stretch his sore legs.

“Are you telling me now why you come here at ten in the morning, when you have to ride at least four hours to get here? I meant the evening Shanks, I was worried as fuck. How many hours did you sleep? Four? Five?” Ray asked, his voice trembling slightly. He tried to hide it, rather sounding angry than worried, but Shanks could hear the concern. A sigh escaped his lips and he gave in to exhaustion, finally sitting down on a chair across from the older man.

“Six ... and that is why.” Shanks lifted his hand to show the ring. The shock on Rayleigh's face was nothing Shanks hadn't expected and still he felt the lump in his throat. He had never felt so guilty before now, looking the man he had known for almost all his life into the eye and telling him he was in the possession of something they both detested. The way he regarded Shanks was piercing, as if he searched for an answer by merely trailing down his features. Suddenly, all Shanks wanted to do was cry.

“That is an owner's ring,” Ray simply stated, and Shanks could only nod. He lacked the proper words and the hand fell back into his lap again. “Why are you wearing an owner's ring?”

Fiddling with the ring, Shanks slipped it off his finger and looked at it. He never had feared a simple piece of metal like this before. His gaze wandered back to Ray and he shrugged to hide the distress he felt. “Can you please seal it first?” he asked and stood up to give the ring to the other man. He could have just slid it over the table, but he didn't dare to. Benn's tears and pained face when the necklace hadn't opened while all the others did, hindered him from doing so. He would never risk hurting the man again, even if it was just by not taking care of the ring. He had been hurt enough.

Shanks carefully placed the ring into the open hand and sat back. Ray closed his fist around it. Suddenly his eyes widened and Shanks knew he had felt the power rush through him, though it could only be half as worse as the time the ring had accepted himself as Benn's new owner. Never letting his eyes trail off Ray's stance, Shanks watched him lean back while running his free hand through his hair. It seemed like he finally understood.

“This is black magic,” Ray stated, and even though it wasn't a question Shanks nodded. “And you couldn't open the necklace.” Again, no question but a statement. “I guess you want me to seal it, so you can't use the ring?” Shanks nodded again, just to jerk when Rayleigh sighed and shook his head absentmindedly. “I can't.”

His feet hit the floor and he was standing straight, before Shanks realized what he was doing. His expression had shifted into shock and anger, and he made no effort to hide his feelings from his former teacher. With gritted teeth and hands balled to fists he was on the edge, fully aware he was only a spark away from exploding.

“Don't fucking kid with me,” Shanks pressed out, voice strained and quiet in an attempt to not shout at Rayleigh. Luckily the other man knew his former protege quite too well to be offended by the actions. It probably would have caused the bar to fall apart, with two powers far beyond what a normal person could imagine.

“Shanks, sit down!” The voice was calm but firm, though it was the look in Ray's eyes that made Shanks really follow the order, because it was nothing other than that. He would always remember that look, those fierce but also calm eyes, which gave away only a spark of the power that lay deep within. It made it clear Shanks had really fucked up this time and that he better listened closely, because if not, he could count himself really lucky to stay alive and in one piece.

So he sat, slowly and each move controlled, while his eyes never left Ray's gaze. The other lowered his head only after Shanks' back hit the back of the chair, and the tension vanished. Shanks let out an uncontrolled sigh, his hand running through his red strands. He was exhausted and he was afraid. Afraid that he couldn't handle the black magic, that he would never find a way to open that damn necklace and mostly he feared to hurt Benn. A thought that felt like a sharp slash through his heart, even though he didn't really know this fascinating man with the sad eyes, yet.

“Whoever wears the matching necklace to this ring must have really gotten under your skin,” slipped out of Ray's mouth but Shanks just flinched and grimaced at the words. The other one had no idea. “Oh fine, I don't ask.”

The added words managed to draw another sigh from Shanks and he popped his feet up on the coffee table and cross-legged them. It was hard not to just grip something and throw it at Rayleigh's head. But honestly, he was glad the anger had been drained. It wouldn't have ended well, and Shakky would have been really mad at them for ruining her bar.

“He's powerful,” Shanks said after a moment of silence and Rayleigh looked up, tilting his head just to regard him a little closer. Then he picked up the ring which was still in his hand, to hold it between thumb and index finger. It shimmered golden in the light.

“I doubt you mean the ring,” Ray mumbled and Shanks suppressed a huff. Well, the ring was powerful, too, but the other man had been right with his assumption that Shanks indeed didn't mean it. “Oh gosh, Shanks, don't give me that look and rather tell me about this man.”

“I didn't give you any look,” Shanks replied, crossing his arms now . Maybe he was even pouting a little, because he hadn't given any look. He had just stared at Ray, because the old geezer was more interested in his relationships than in actually doing what Shanks had come for. Not to mention that his love-life wasn't any of Rayleigh's concerns … and he shouldn't think about Benn in this terms. “How do you know it's a man?”

A chuckle next to him caught his attention and he saw Shakky approaching them with a tray in hand, loaded with mugs and plates. Breakfast was probably not the worst idea. It would delay Shanks from ripping Ray's head off.

“It's obvious, Shanks. Also, a ‘he’ slipped,” she simply stated, and placed the tray between them on the small table. Shanks just huffed but said nothing. There was no use, he would never win an argument against Shakky. Especially not when she was right. So he reached for a mug, filled it with coffee and added sugar and milk. Then he took a sip, while Shakky lit herself a cigarette. It was such a familiar gesture, Shanks relaxed a little more at the smell of smoke.

“Are you telling me now why you can't seal it?” he asked as casually as he could, because he didn't want to break the peace that surrounded them. It was a dangerous, fragile thing, because as long as the issue of the ring wasn't clear and fixed, Shanks knew nothing was safe in a mile's radius. He was glad to know that Ray could restrain him if necessary.

“Because there is nothing to be sealed,” Ray answered him, his eyes intense. This was no game and Shanks knew he was speaking the truth, as wrong as it may sound. He inhaled deeply, his fingers closing tightly around the mug.

“You said yourself it's black magic, how can there be nothing to be sealed. I even sealed it myself,” Shanks said as he exhaled again. He had held his breath to give his former teacher time to add something, but there hadn't been anything more.

“Yes, I know. That is why I knew it is black magic,” Ray explained and added, “Shanks. I feel nothing coming from this ring. I wouldn't even recognize it as an owner's ring without the engraving. To me, this is just a normal ring, except for the fact that I feel your seal. A seal to prevent anyone from using it. But no one except you would be able to use it anyway. I doubt anyone else than you can feel the power within it. The black magic stops anyone other than the current owner to ever use this ring.”

Mouth slightly open and eyes wide while the air suddenly felt harder to breathe, Shanks could only stare at Rayleigh. The words echoed in his mind, but he couldn't process them. How was this possible? His mind just refused to work properly anymore.

“What does … what does that mean?” Shanks question had been directed at Rayleigh, but it was Shakky who answered. She sat herself next to her husband on the couch, a coffee in her hand as well.

“It does mean that you are the only one that can ever open that necklace.”

Chapter Text

“That can't be… no, I refuse,” Shanks stammered, taken aback by the words. The whole impact of Shakky's words hit him when he realized what it meant. If he was the only one who could open the necklace, the possibility was high he would never be able open it at all. If he was too weak, he would be trying it again and again without any results. No, this was something he refused to believe. He couldn't face telling Benn he was stuck in his life as a slave forever.

Shanks knew it wouldn't matter how often he told Benn he was free. The only way the man would truly believe it, was when Shanks opened the necklace, and he had sworn to himself he would find a way to make that happen. He didn't even know why, but he never wanted to see those eyes tear up again.

The guilt and the anger came back, building up in him. His body was shaking and he didn’t realize he was spilling his coffee. He also didn’t see the alarming glances Shakky and Ray were throwing at each other when the air around him became thicker and filled with unspoken words. His usually bright eyes changed, getting cold and darker, as his thoughts swirled in his head, he himself unable to control his feelings. He wasn't aware of any of it.

“Shanks!” Ray shouted, but it didn't reach the man's ear. “Shanks!” Again, nothing happened. “SHANKS!”

This time Ray's shout was filled with magic, and it thundered through the room, the volume increased drastically. The mug in Shanks' hand slipped and fell to the floor, hot coffee spilling over most of his legs, his wide eyes suddenly full of fear. It wasn't Ray’s shout but the use of magic that had startled Shanks out of his vortex of feelings.  When he looked in the terrified faces of whom he considered two of the most important people in his life, he realized what had happened and bit his lower lip, a poor attempt not to cry.

The lack of words made it even harder for Shanks, his whole self just an inch away from breaking and crumbling. He was glad when Shakky found her composure again, picked up most pieces of the broken mug and mumbled some words to dry the trousers Shanks was wearing. The magic worked immediately, though it didn't help the brownish stain. Good thing he had packed another pair.

“I'm sorry,” Shanks mumbled eventually and Ray sighed, running a hand through his hair in a familiar gesture. His gaze was piercing but not without worry, and it made Shanks feel like fifteen again. It wasn't a time he liked to remember, with too much pain and hurt, too much loss and too little stability in his life. He let his lids shut close, trying to push the cutting memories aside. It only worked partially and instead of feeling his magic twirl, the guilt was back and before his inner eye a face, cold and indifferent but beautiful as marble, stared at him. Automatically his hands wandered to his hair and pulled at it. Benn wasn't like that. Shanks had to believe that one day he would see him smile at him genuinely, but how when he was too weak to open that necklace?

Before he could fall back into that circle of fear, pain and guilt again, strong hands settled over his and pulled them away. When he looked up, his eyes met with Ray's who was forcing him to stop ripping his hair out. Shanks gave in to that power, but not because he wanted to, but because he knew there was no other way.

The tension didn't vanish completely, but Shanks forced himself to regain his composure at least so much that it fooled Shakky and Rayleigh into believing he was calm again. He knew he wasn't, he knew he could break any minute, but a small voice in his head whispered that he didn't have the right anymore. Because he was a Yonko, he had to be strong and finally act like an adult. The excuse of being an unstable teenager wasn't working anymore, even though sometimes he wished it would. What differed him from his fifteen year old self?

“Shanks, talk to us,” Shakky said, breaking the silence while her eyes darted over him. She was looking for evidence that her bar was safe again and Shanks gave her no sign to think differently, though still, nothing was safe.

“I'm talking,” he answered lowly and Ray sighed, making an attempt to stand up, but was pushed back onto the couch by his wife. Instead, Shakky stood up and walked straight to the kitchen. It seemed the time for coffee was over and the time for strong alcohol had just begun. Not that Shanks minded, he felt like he needed it.

“Then please tell me what's on your mind.” Ray's words intended to be sharp, but they only sounded exhausted. That was the sole reason Shanks wasn't exploding again. He wouldn’t have coped well with a scolding now.

“I can't open that necklace. No one else can. I told him he's free but he isn't… he never will be.” No words about the tears, no words about the blood that had seeped down Benn's throat. Not one single syllable about the guilt and the fear and the shame Shanks was feeling. Because he was an adult and therefore had to deal with it himself.

“That is not true. Damn the goddesses Shanks, there is no way this necklace will stay closed forever. You are one of the strongest persons alive, there is no way this -” Ray struggled for words, but was cut off by dry laughter.

“I'm not. You keep telling me that, because Roger told you so, but I'm not. I was barely fifteen. How should he have known? I can't open a simple necklace. You picked the wrong person to rule this country.” The words were as dry and numb as the laughter had been, and just the moment Shakky returned with three glasses and a bottle of whiskey, Shanks stood up. He picked the ring out of Ray's hand, slipped it over his finger, grabbed the bottle of alcohol off the tray and reached for his bag. “I'm gonna sleep,” he announced, before he was off, vanishing into his old room he knew Shakky had gotten ready for him.

Ray fell back onto the couch. He had gotten up when Shanks had moved to snatch the ring out of his hand, feeling shocked and angry, but mostly overwhelmed. To focus was nearly impossible and it was only when he heard glasses clink and sensed a warm presence next to him that he looked up. Shakky's expressions mirrored his own, though she was also concerned about him. The dull shadow in her hazel eyes revealed it.

“I'm afraid, Shak … I'm honestly afraid,” Ray whispered, all his energy gone. His hands were shaking, and he regretfully thought of the whisky Shanks had taken with him. He needed something strong to drink, to calm his nerves. Still he eased visibly when Shakky reached for his hand and entangled their fingers with each other.

“I know,” she answered him, looking at the spot where Shanks had just sat and that was now empty. The spilled coffee still glimmered on the floor, a reminder of what had happed, but also what could have happened but luckily didn’t. “I know… he just left too early.”

The last time Ray had cried over Roger's loss had been years ago, but now silent tears streaked over his face and he made no attempt to stop it. He had selfishly thought Shanks would manage as time passed. He had always believed it, clung to the hope and convinced himself that with age, the pain would fade. But somehow Rayleigh had also always known it had been a lie and today reality had caught up with him.

For the first few months, probably the first year, Ray had focused solely on his own pain. With Roger's death, the people had lost their high king, but not Ray - first and foremost he had lost his best friend, murdered by the government in front of thousands of people. Ray hadn't been there, he hadn't been able to bring himself to watch.

The world had been in turmoil after that incident. The small bits of structure Roger had been able to give his people were crushed in an instant. Once cheered at for being brave and an adventurer, now the civilians thought of their former high king as a criminal. Ray knew better, he knew that most of what had been told to the people was fake. A big charade, to keep the peace. A very fragile peace that crumbled more and more.

The known land wasn't reigned by blood. Neither the former high king, nor the Yonkos had been crowned because of any birthright. The folk didn't believe in something as succession by blood, the only thing they believed in was power. Roger had been powerful, he had been able to wield magic in dimensions Ray hadn't ever fully been able to grasp. Shanks, Whitebeard, Kaidou and Big Mom – the four Yonko - were supposed to be equal in their power, but for different reasons it wasn't true. It was just that some of them were more bloodthirsty and more interested in power than the other. Still, Rayleigh was sure no one reached Roger. Maybe Whitebeard… maybe Shanks, one day. It was impossible to say for certain.

When Roger had been High King, the Government hadn't been able to keep the man in check. They had tried, afraid of his power and the knowledge he had gleaned over his many travels on which Ray had accompanied him. In the end, they had denounced and executed him. For the use of black magic, a magic that was forbidden by a law that prevailed higher than anything else. The world believed in Roger's turpitude and only the fewest looked closer when everything seemed so obvious.

Very few people knew of the connection between Shanks and Roger. It hadn't been a secret, but they also hadn't made it utterly public that Roger had adopted Shanks. It was mostly not an issue, since at that time Shanks had only been eight, and Roger hadn't been High King yet. They had been mere travelers, seafarer, adventurers, who went out to seek truth. But time had changed their situations, people had started to call Roger a king, and later High King. Under him there had been peace, unity, maybe just because no one ever dared to attack him, or accomplished his downfall. But when he had died... many things had fallen apart.

Shanks had only been fifteen when the execution had taken place, but Roger had deemed him strong enough to carry on his legacy. Rayleigh would never forget this one talk in which Roger had told him to watch the boy, so they wouldn't lose another one they held dear. He knew what Roger had wanted to tell him with it. He knew it, but now, now he realized that maybe he had broken his promise. Because he had been too focused on his own pain. Because it hadn't just been his best friend, or the high king who had died. Shanks had lost Roger, the man who was like a father to him, too. His friend would have known what to do. Roger would have been able to show Shanks how to control and wield his power. He would also have been able to convince him to see what he really was worth and could do. But Roger was dead, and for the first time, the tears Ray cried were solely for the loss Shanks had endured, and not for his own, because only now he had realized that Shanks had probably lost even more than he had.

With soundless steps Shakky walked down the stairs, slipping back into the main room of the bar. Normally she was an energetic person, but today all her energy had been spent just for the talk with Shanks. The half empty bottle of whiskey in her hand was the proof that he endured more than he would ever admit to. Shanks was in some way like her son, and it wasn't easy to watch him being so hopeless and angry.

When she closed the door behind her, Rayleigh looked up, the question visible in his eyes. He hadn't really moved since she had walked up to check on the boy. Oh yes, he may be an adult now, but for Shakky he would always be a boy.

“Is he asleep?” Ray asked her with a weary voice, and the woman nodded, holding up the bottle. The alcohol had probably knocked the redhead out. Scarier was the amount that had been necessary to fulfill the task. A normal person shouldn’t be able to drink half a bottle of whiskey in one go…

It wasn't long anymore until she had to open the bar. Maybe an hour or one and a half. Hopefully they wouldn't have much to deal with today. She knew that even with Ray to help her, they both were currently at their limit, and the constant worry for Shanks carved at her. For a moment, she closed her eyes, then she walked up to Ray and sat down in the chair Shanks had sat in before the whole situation had escalated.

She could see Rayleigh running a hand over his face, before his eyes locked with hers. It was just like that, that he knew what was going on with her and maybe, maybe he knew what was on her mind. One question haunted her, and she bit her lips.

“Spill it, Shakky. I won't judge you,” he said with a tired sigh. It wasn't the time for pointless discussions or wasted energy on forcing someone to speak, so she went with it, and just asked.

“Is he really as strong as you said?”

It seemed Ray had seen the question coming, because he didn't even blink. Instead, he forced himself to smile, but his lips barely turned upward. It was answer enough for Shakky, and she knew all the things he would explain to her now were about the details.

“Yes he is. I wouldn't call him the strongest yet, considering there are people out there like Whitebeard, like the other Yonko, but yes, he is strong. Stronger than he thinks he is and definitely one of the most powerful people alive,” Rayleigh told her and then looked down at his open hands. It felt like he hadn’t spoken the truth entirely. There had been something in his tone that told the woman it wasn't all. One little detail he hadn’t told her yet… yet?

Her eyes grew big, and she had to force herself to not spring into a standing position, grab Rayleigh's shoulders and shake him. Her body shook heavily at the thought that had just struck her mind. That couldn't be. It just had to be a mistake. But a quiet inner voice told her it wasn't.

“What do you mean, not yet? Ray, he is twenty-three. He must have come off age by now. Tell me he has,” she nearly shouted, and didn’t realized she pierced the arm rest with her fingernails.

The sad and weary look of her husband, the apologetic smile, the slight shivering of his lips. He didn't need to answer. He didn't need to say it out loud. Her body fell against the back of the chair, her eyes darting upwards to the ceiling, to where Shanks was sleeping. With shivering hands she massaged her temples, and yet it was hard to process the news. Shanks wasn't just one of the strongest people alive, no, his magic was also still growing, twirling in him, and the older he got the less he would be able to control it, until he would finally come off age and reach his prime. Only after the magical growth had come to an end, they could be sure of Shanks being able to control his power. But until then… until then a lot could happen.

“We’re nearly done,” Roo said with a smile on his lips and Benn looked up, his hand darting to this one strand of his black hair that had escaped his ponytail He pushed it out of his face, but it fell just back in place. After a while of working with his hair open, which had been annoying as hell, one of the girls, she was around fourteen, fifteen, had offered him a hairband. He had taken it gladly, and Roo had told him Aissa, the girl, always helped with setting up the breakfast before she went to school. She was a friendly though energetic person, and Benn couldn't come around to like her.

“Good to know,” he answered the chef, a tiny grin on his lips, as he dried his hands on one of the many towels they had used to dry the last bits of water off the crockery. They had used a drying spell, though some last parts of drops still stayed, which was only normal when Benn considered the amount of plates, cutlery and pans, bowls and what not all they had used. It was only breakfast, for shouting out loud. He was glad Roo had help for lunch and dinner. Feeding around a hundred people wasn't easy work.

“I have...” Roo checked the clock on the wall inside the kitchen, “...two hours of free-time, before I have to head back and start preparing lunch. You wanna have a quick tour through the palace? I can show you around."

Benn's eyes darted through the kitchen, over the freezing box which cooled down perishables thanks to a cooling spell that worked only inside the wooden box. There were a few last dishes they had to dry and put away, and they probably needed to clean the counters again, but there wasn’t much left to do. It seemed Roo caught his thoughts as he grinned and held out a hand. With a smile Benn gave him the towel he still held, and nodded. It seemed Roo intended to clean the rest later on. “Sure, a tour would be nice.”

They walked out of the kitchen, back into the hall. A few people still sat at the tables and chatted, but it was relatively empty considering the buzzing it had been earlier. Breakfast was served for two hours, and in these two hours people came and went, getting whatever they liked to eat, before starting their work. Roo had just chatted away the whole morning, so by now Benn had a good idea of how things worked in this castle.

It seemed like most of the workers were former slaves who had been freed by Shanks and then had decided to stay. They did what suited their skills, from cleaning and doing the laundry for almost all of the court to administration task. There wasn't anything that didn't exist in this castle, even farmers lived here, working on nearby fields, providing the court with a decent amount of food.

When Roo had pointed out the people were free to go or stay, Benn had suppressed the urge to reach for the necklace under the scarf. He was sure the chef was telling the truth, after all he had been in the hall when the necklaces had dropped. But he was also sure he was the one exception that confirmed the rule. There had been a strange side-glance from Roo, who had easily changed the topic, but the lingering feeling of unspoken words had stayed for a while until it got too busy in the kitchen to think of anything other than frying bacon and saving the scrambled eggs from burning.

It was a strange feeling to face the man without the safety of the kitchen. In there, Benn had been able to shut off his thoughts. He was a pleasure slave, but that didn't mean he had never done other tasks before. Working was safe ground for him. Roo treated him nice enough and he hadn't felt out of place. Being back in the hall now changed it, and suddenly Benn wasn't so sure anymore if it had been a good idea to accept the invitation of a tour. His brain told him that he still was a slave, no matter what, and things like private tours through the house weren't what he usually received.

“So where do you wanna start?” Roo asked him with a smile, walking past him to head for the door. The chef probably assumed Benn would follow, but he didn't move. What should he answer anyway? What was he supposed to see and what not? Where there places he wasn't allowed to go to? There were always places he wasn't allowed in. He didn't want to get Roo into trouble for showing him around without permission of his… his friend? Higher-up? Superior? What was Shanks to Roo and the rest of the people who lived here, when Roo had stated so well he was just a cook.

When the chef realized Benn wasn't following him, he turned and looked at the man critically. To avoid the questioning look, Benn just gazed at the floor, biting his lips. He was torn between believing in the friendliness that he had received throughout the day, and the cold metal around his neck that was a constant reminder of who he was. Even though he had no idea what Shanks was for the others, it was unmistakably that for Benn, he was his master and the man who owned him. It would always be like that as long as the necklace stayed locked around his throat.

“I better should go back,” he mumbled, wondering how his daily routine would look like from now on. He couldn't be sure, as Shanks was not here to give him any orders. He doubted he would be lucky enough to run the meals with Roo in the kitchen. That would be… nice. But it usually wasn't what he was bought for. Until he knew, though, he considered it the safest to not draw attention. Or get people who were friendly to him into trouble. By now he could feel the gazes of the few men who were still in the dining hall oh him. They weren’t even speaking anymore, and it was too quiet for Benn’s liking.

“No, you shouldn't. There is no need for you to be sitting in the kitchen all alone,” Roo told him, sounding friendly and firm at the same time. He didn’t seem to notice the stares. Or maybe he just didn’t care. However it was, he had his own way to be encouraging and when he reminded Benn that Shanks wouldn't be back before tomorrow and therefore he could perfectly well join him while walking around, Benn gave in. The chef was right, and it wouldn't hurt him to know his way around.

“So, again, where do you wanna start?” Roo asked when Benn had finally moved and caught up with him. At the question though, Benn just shrugged - how should he know what there was to see? He never had been in the palace before. Or in any other palace this big, even though there had been some houses that came close. But before, he had usually been placed in one room to serve in whichever way his current master had demanded. Most of the time, it had been him being the present to please the favored person of his owner. The room hadn't always contained a bed, though, and serving hadn't always been painless.

For a short moment, Benn's expression had gone numb and he hadn’t realized the concerned frown that swept over Roo's face. But then he managed to push those haunting memories aside and concentrated on reality again. His mouth twitched in apology before he spoke. “What special places are there that I need to know?”

“How about the gardens, the gym, the baths and sanitary rooms… ah wait your room has an extra bathroom, so no need to know that, even though I should probably show you, just in case. Then there is the library, ...” Roo counted and stopped with a grin. Benn's face had visibly lit up with the word library, which hadn't gone past the other man. It seemed even he was easy to read, well at least sometimes. With a chuckle Roo opened the door that lead into a hall, and let Benn pass him. “We'll start with the library, I’d say.”

The library was huge. Benn had no other word to describe it as his eyes widened in awe. There were hundreds of books, all neatly placed in wooden shelves, standing next to each other, whispering with those tempting voices, telling him to reach for them, read them and learn. He turned in a circle, looking up and trying to get the size of the room, but it was near to impossible. Even he, as a very tall man, couldn't possibly reach to the highest shelf by himself. There was a glass dome covering the main entrance he was now standing in, next to Roo. The light shining through bathed the whole library in natural light, and Benn guessed it served to create a friendly and easy for the eye atmosphere. Working here would be a bliss.

There were also several tables, with cushioned chairs or actual couches, that invited to sit down and just drown in the different worlds a book could contain while reading. Benn always had loved escaping his actual life for a while by reading, but the time he had been granted to do so had been limited. His eyes darted to the edges and walls, but he couldn't tell how far the library reached, as it went on behind a corner he had no way to see around from his position.

“It was a good idea to come here first,” Roo eventually spoke, after letting Benn take in the sight, and the man who seemingly had been lost in his thoughts forced himself to look up from the books and their secrets to his present company. Roo smiled softly, his hands in the pockets of his trousers, his body as relaxed as Benn knew his would never be. “I haven't seen you this much at ease until now. It suits you.”

A pang of misery rushed through Benn at hearing those words, but he locked the yearning away. He knew Roo hadn't meant it to be some kind of scolding, but it reminded him that he wasn't in the place to start dreaming. Granting himself a last quick look to the hidden stories each of these books contained, Benn forced his mind back to reality. His far-away expression was replaced by a friendly but forced smile.

“Thank you,” he said politely as always, but at the same time could see how the soft happiness fell from Roo's face. It was just minuscule before the smile was directed back at Benn, but now it was different. He could see the wish in the other man's eyes to not have said anything at all. It made Benn wonder again why the people here were so different from everyone he had ever had to interact with before.

An oppressive silence developed between them, both of them realizing that those few words had managed to shift the mood into something heavier than it had been before. What saved them from having the stillness become awkward though, was a relatively small man who was past his best years. For Benn, it was as if he appeared out of nowhere, but Roo seemed to know him because a sigh escaped the chef's lips and he seemed to relax again.

“Hello Professor,” Roo greeted the older man and got back a nod. He didn't seem to notice Benn, at least not until he was being introduced. Then the old eyes swept over him, and somehow it made Benn shudder. The look wasn't piercing in the way many people watched him, people who regarded his body as if it was a product they could consume. Instead there was recognition in his gaze, even though it was nearly hidden behind years of life-experience. And there was astonishment, too. For a short moment Benn wanted to disappear, to get away from eyes that seemed to know too much, but then he gathered his wits again while Roo said, “May I introduce to you, this is Benn. He arrived here yesterday. Benn, this is Professor Clover, our librarian.”

“Nice to meet you, Professor,” Benn managed to say, his voice wavering under the strange feeling that spread through his veins. His words though seemed to pull the older man out of his thoughts and the knowing expression changed.

“Nice to meet you too, Benn...,” he answered, his words trailing off, as if he wanted to hear a second name, to complete the sentence. But Benn only gave him a courteous nod. “Just Benn.”

It was rare for a slave to have a second name, those who had been born into slavery never got one. They weren’t deemed worthy to be gifted with such, as names hold power - a legacy slaves shouldn't carry. It was believed to be easier to handle them when making them think there was no place they came from and there would be none to go to. Benn had a second name, given to him by his parents before… before… he closed his eyes, breathing in and out, suppressing the tears that began to blur his sight. The memories would only tear him apart, so he locked them up in some deep, dark corner of his soul. All he needed to know was that once he had been someone. He treasured his name, as well as the smile of his father and the scent of his mother. No one needed to know his second name, so they couldn’t use it against him.

“Did you want anything, Professor?” Roo asked, unaware of the surfacing sadness, and provided the last bit of distraction for Benn to face reality again. The memories were once again securely locked up. There was no need to give them room to hurt him.

“No, I mean, yes, but...,” the professor said absentmindedly and then shook his head, before he ordered his thoughts and remembered what he actually wanted to say. “I heard Shanks went out. There are uproars in, ah I forgot the name again, however, I wanted to talk to him. I'm not sure but-”

“But you think it could be Nico Robin?”, Roo finished his sentence, sounding concerned. The Professor only nodded, his eyes speaking of misery. Benn wondered who this Nico Robin was, but she must be someone pretty close to the old man, because beside the misery were also fear and concern visible on his face.

“He plans to be back by tomorrow. I’ll tell him to see you when he comes down for breakfast… or lunch,” Roo promised, and then he turned to Benn, who had just stood next to them, listening. “You can come here whenever you want and have time to. Feel free to borrow whatever books you like, just tell Professor Clover. He keeps track of them all.”

“I'm here most of the time, but if I'm not, you will find lists on the counter of my desk, to add the title and author of the book you borrowed,” Professor Clover added to Roo's explanation and eyed Benn again, before he shook his head in negation, as if he wanted to tell himself it couldn't be. “It was nice meeting you, Benn,” he finished, and again Benn had the strange feeling the other one wanted to add a second name, even though he couldn't know he actually had one.

Chapter Text

When Shanks woke up, his head hurt immensely, which wasn't a real surprise considering the amount of whiskey he had downed to be able to forget and find some sleep. He wished he couldn't remember the accusations that had left his lips, the swirl of magic and the pain that had confirmed his inability to open Benn's necklace, but he could see the events clearly in front of his inner eye. Nothing had gone as planned, and now it was added up by a hangover. Brilliant.

He swung his legs over the edge of his bed and looked around the room - his old room, where he had lived for three years. There were still the old pictures on the walls, happy faces smiling down on him. A young looking Roger, his arm slung over Rayleigh's shoulder. His grin as wide as it had always been, and the mustache seemingly grinning as well. Shanks had taken the photo when he had been ten. It was the only one that had worked out. The others had been blurred because neither Shanks nor Roger or Rayleigh had been able to stand still for long.

Next to the photo was a map, drawn by Ray. It showed great parts of the known land, even though there had been discovered even more now. Shanks knew his old teacher could draw an accurate map of the world as it was known today, but he kept this one for sentimental reasons. Ray had drawn it for him on their big journey with Roger, as part of one of his lessons. They had seen places no one else he knew or had heard about had ever been to, they had traveled the sea, and they had landed on that one island people spoke of as if it was an illusion, a dream only. It wasn't, as Shanks knew himself. He had seen it, but… it didn't matter. Things got lost after Roger's death, knowledge died with him. But Shanks knew he wanted to see the ocean again. Sometimes, in silent moments like this one, he wondered if there was more to the world than what he had seen with Roger. He wondered if the world went on, behind that massive body of water that was called the great sea. He probably would never know, because his duties as a Yonko kept him chained to this land. He couldn’t just abandon the people that trusted him to keep them safe.

Roger had never wanted to die, Shanks knew that much. But he knew life wasn't a bowl of cherries, and things didn't always go as planned. After those many months, years of travel, when Roger had become High King, Shanks had stayed with Rayleigh and Shakky in a small but comfortable house in Manoas. It never had bothered him - he had visited the castle more often than he could count. Roger had just wanted to keep him out of trouble, so officially he was just a worker's boy. Unofficially he knew the castle better than everyone, even better than Roger. He had strolled through the corridors, without people taking notice of him. The hidden rooms, the concealed doors, Shanks was sure he knew all of them. When he had been a young boy flipping tapestries aside in search of secret passageways, he had believed things would stay like this forever. Now it was his own castle.

His left hand pushed the sleeve of his shirt up and a golden armlet appeared. It was heavy, similar to the metal most of the slave's necklaces were made out of, but this one wasn't holding the cruel magic that bound a human to another, just because their luck had left them. In the middle of the shimmering gold was a red stone, surrounded by engravings, old words written down in a language people had forgotten in the last hundreds of years. It was called Poneglyh, or so Roger had told him. He had also told Shanks this metal held strength, but until now it had only been a reminder of what still had to be achieved.

A single tear rolled down Shanks' cheek as he tried to keep the memories at bay. He had promised to carry on Roger's legacy, a promise not even Rayleigh knew of. He had promised to find the one person that would reveal the lost century, a forgotten history, but sometimes he doubted he could succeed. He couldn't even open a simple necklace, how could he ever think of making a change?

Fifteen was too young an age to claim a throne or a crown or whatever people thought was claimed when someone became the ruler of a large area. Shanks had never really cared, he had thought he had time. He had thought Roger would once more explain what he wished him to do when he was older, so he could understand it better. When he had accepted that armlet and made a promise he wouldn't break, he had thought time would show him what to do, where to go, but instead there had been an execution, and Rayleigh had taken him to safety. A safety that had been supposed to be this room, this bar Shakky had opened, which had been a try to build some kind of stability in times of grief and uproar. Nevertheless Shanks had been attacked, which had led to the three scars over his left eye. He knew who had attacked him, but he could only guess at the reason. The excuses Ray had made were just that, mere excuses, and Shanks knew it was more than the talk about people not wanting him to claim Roger's status. He had only been fifteen, and far from being a threat.

When Shanks turned eighteen, he had claimed the title as a Yonko. There had been people who had served gladly under Roger and remembered the worker's boy with the vivid red hair. Rayleigh, who had once been first minister under Roger, had fought hard to retain at least a part of the territory, even though Whitebeard, Big Mom and Kaidou had divided big parts among themselves. Shanks had started out small, but fought his way up. Now he was equal to the other Yonko, or at least people believed it. He wasn't sure he believed in himself like others did.

In those three years between Roger's death and him claiming the title as Yonko, Shanks had lived in this bar, serving drinks, washing dishes and helping out Shakky. This small room, with its bed, the photos and the map on the wall, the desk and a wardrobe had been his safe haven. There would probably still be some clothes in the wardrobe, even though he doubted they still fit. He was taller than he had thought he would become when he was fifteen, and nowadays only a few people matched him in height. A lump formed in Shanks' throat. Benn did, the man was minimum a hand taller than himself.

Instead of walking down a road of long past memories and thoughts that made him feel miserable, Shanks rubbed his temples and averted his eyes from the map. He craved a good's night rest, even though he had just gotten up. But he wanted to get back to his castle, better today than tomorrow, though the growing darkness of evening made him realize the two elders probably wouldn't let him ride. Not when it would be way past midnight when he arrived at home.

Some spoken words lit the candles in the room, and Shanks looked in his bag for his second pair of trousers. The other one needed to be laundered properly before he could wear it again. Damn coffee. When he was fully dressed he sighed and headed for the stairs. Yonko or not, he knew what it meant to run a bar, and after all the trouble he had caused Rayleigh and Shakky, he could at least help them out since it was too late to leave for home anyway. It was the busiest time of the day, now. He just hoped no one would recognize him as the Yonko he was, but thankfully the clientele that usually frequented Shakky’s bar would rather bet on heaven to fall down than believe a Yonko would serve them.

His hand shoved the white fabric of his sleeve back down, covering all evidence of a once spoken promise, before he made his way downstairs. Hopefully, his headache would vanish soon.

The noise from the bar couldn’t be ignored and Shanks wished someone would just shoot him dead, before the ache in his temples managed to killed him. If sleep would come easier to him, he would probably drink less, but nightmares were a constant reminder of the past. It was either waking up screaming or drinking half a bottle of booze. He had chosen the latter as the lesser devil and lived with the constant hangovers. Sleeping peacefully had been even harder after the conflict he had just had in the morning.

From behind the bar he could see Shakky scurry through the considerable number of guests, carrying a tray with bottles and glasses in her hand. Ray must be in the kitchen, as Shanks couldn't spot him. He moved his shoulders in circles in a try to get rid of the tension, but it didn't really help, so he just started making his way through the tables to collect the empty tankards.

The bar was lit with several oil lamps, hanging from the wooden pillars or on the walls. In a corner were couches arranged around small round tables to relax and chat. On one of them he had sat in the morning with the two others, when everything had escalated. There was a small raised area where people could dance, too, though it was almost empty at the moment. The rest of the space was filled with tables and bar stools, all made from rustic, dark wood. Wide linen cloth spanned over the ceiling, creating a feeling of divided areas even though it was just one open room. Maybe the bar was a little rugged, and definitely not the cleanest, but it was comfortable. To be honest, the area Shakky and Ray had decided to settle in wasn't the safest or wealthiest anyway, so neatness didn't matter to most guests. When he had been younger, he had wondered why they had chosen exactly this place to live, but now Shanks knew it had been for his own safety. Many people avoided places where they could be stabbed from behind, the sole reason being greed.

People would say a bar like this wasn't the best place to keep a boy like him safe, but soon after they had opened, the place had obtained the reputation of being even more dangerous than the streets if you didn't pay, which was true. No one ever managed to swindle Shakky without her finding out and taking the double amount of berries, which was the currency in the known land. The 'Rip-off Bar' hadn’t gotten its name without cause.

Picking up several empty bottles with ease, he tried to remember all the randomly called-out orders for new booze, without mixing anything up. Being hungover didn't help. At least it was a little comfort to know that ninety percent of the people here drinking themselves into oblivion would have one tomorrow, too.

Shanks reached the bar again, dropped the bottles into the bin, and started to prepare the many drinks. He was a decent barkeeper, most of the things he had learned over the three years he had worked here on a daily basis never forgotten. When he reached for lemon syrup to give a whiskey sour a last final note, soft hands touched his temples. He closed his eyes, feeling quiet, easing words floating through his head, and his pulsing headache slowly started to fade. But before the spell was completely finished, Shanks pushed the hands away and turned to face those sad, brown eyes that belonged to Shakky.

“Don't,” he mumbled with a low voice, and when he put his hand down again, his eyes caught a quick flash of the golden owner's ring. Pain, like a slash with a sharp dagger, cut through his heart, reminding him again why this misery was his and his alone. “Don't take what isn't yours.”

“Shanks...,” Shakky started to protest, but his expression was enough to keep her from voicing her objections. Taking away his headache was a nice gesture, but it had cost her a certain amount of energy. As Shakky was no trained doctor, she certainly would feel at least part of the pain herself, and that wasn’t something Shanks wanted. It was his fault alone things had ended like they had and he would not allow her to suffer more than she already did.

“You're no hero, so don't act like one,” a dark voice said from beside him. Rayleigh’s voice was filled with accusation, but Shanks could see the concern in his eyes. He sighed and turned to face his old teacher. “I'm not, I just want to savor my hangover a little while longer,” he smirked with sarcasm glinting in his eyes. Hero? Rayleigh was right, he was the last person who should be considered a hero - he was just trying to do his bloody job!

“I need to talk with you, let’s get out of here for a minute,” Ray just replied without responding to the snide comment. The way he let those words sound, Shanks knew he wouldn’t accept a no, so he quickly informed Shakky of who had ordered what, and followed the older man through the tables and stools to the exit.

The cold air slapped him awake and a sudden sting bolted through Shanks' head, accompanied by a sudden dizziness that dared to kick him off his feet. His hand darted up to rub at his temple, but before it could touch the skin, Ray had snatched his wrist. The skin felt rugged against his own.

“What are you doing?” Shanks asked while he watched the other man eyeing the golden ring that shimmered in the quickly fading light of the evening. Soon, the cicadas’ chirping wouldn’t allow a normal conversation anymore. Rough fingers that weren't his own softly touched the ring, as if they were searching, testing. Maybe Shanks would have jumped to conclusions a little faster, but the headache that had just increased due to the sudden oxygen shock hindered him from thinking clearly.

“Shakky gave me an idea about sealing the ring without me being able to feel the magic,” Ray answered absentmindedly. A raised eyebrow was the only answer to that statement, then the old man started to speak. The magic that formed around them was strong, yet familiar. Whenever words were backed up with as much power as Rayleigh had at his command, something in the air would shift. Had he had the desire to do so, Shanks was sure he could have grabbed those shimmering swathes and influenced them to his liking. Instead of interrupting, though, he just watched as the ring seemed to absorb them like a sponge. After a minute or so it was already over, the only thing surrounding them the cold night air and the chirping sounds of the nocturnal animals.

The silence filling the space between the two man was interrupted by a deep intake of breath on Rayleigh's side. “I can't believe you can see them just like that. I mean, I know and with effort and concentration, I could force myself to do so, too, but...”

The voice faded into nothingness. There was no need for Rayleigh to go on with his sentence, Shanks knew what he had wanted to add. Roger had been able to see the words of magic as well, without actually concentrating on it. Seeing magic could be learned, but the most people didn't bother to. It took years of training, and concentration as well as willpower. Shanks however had always been able to see them without any effort – a rare ability he didn't fully understand himself.

“What is it you have placed on the ring?” Shanks asked to steer the topic back to the spell Rayleigh had just wielded. Talking about his power was nothing he wanted to do right now. It would just lead to his title as Yonko again, which would in turn lead to the memory of the morning that still left him feeling sick with guilt. He shouldn’t have lost his control like that, he thought. Not anymore, at least.

“A seal,” was the answer and again, Shanks raised an eyebrow. It was exactly what he had asked for a few hours ago. Back then the old man had refused his request, and told him in plain words there was no way. What had changed that assessment so suddenly?

Holding up his hand to regard the ring, Shanks furrowed his brow. If the ring really was sealed now, it would keep Benn a little safer. That was the only thing that counted, but he still had doubts. He needed this to work, so he couldn’t accidentally harm Benn the next time he tried to open the necklace. Because he would certainly try, again and again until this damn necklace opened and the promised freedom became tangible reality.

Rayleigh must have seen the concerns on Shanks' face, because he started to speak again, his voice a little lower, and not as confident as Shanks wanted it to be, but he would take any help or advise he got. “I didn't seal the ring, I can't seal what I can't feel. But when Shakky told me to describe everything again, she pointed out I could seal your seal, Shanks. It's what I did. If you ever consciously or unconsciously want to remove your own words, you have to remove mine first.”

“I hope you didn't go easy on it.” Shanks' voice was filled with a little mocking, however he was glad to hear those news. It was not what he had hoped for, but it was at least something, another layer of protection for Benn.

“When did I ever went easy on something?” Ray asked with a judging look out of his wise eyes, his voice matching the inflection of the question, and suddenly both of them laughed, the tension vanished with the relief that it had not been all for naught. No, Rayleigh wasn't someone to go easy on something. Shanks still knew from the years during which he had been learning from him. He would never forget his methods to beat mathematics into his head. Just the memory made him shudder. There were reasons he hated numbers.

Dust swirled up when Shanks spurred his chestnut and waved, his horse already moving down the street in a quick trot. A coughing fit made Shakky bent down, her hand covering her mouth as she tried to get air back in her lungs, and Ray's eyes darted to her worriedly, trying to figure whether he should run into the house to get her a glass of water or not. But it lessened slowly, and a sigh escaped his lips, while he stepped closer to her, his arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her to his side. Her head rested at his shoulder as they watched Shanks becoming smaller in the distance. Only his red hair was shining vividly as always, until he pushed the hood of his coat over his head to hide his appearance.

“Will he be okay?” Shakky asked, her voice a little raspy from the coughing, and Ray let his head lean against hers too, taking in the scent of smoke. It was silent around them, apart from the usual noises of the still sleeping city. There were actual birds chirping audibly, a rare thing in the ever so busy Sabaody.

“I believe in his strength, just like Roger has believed in it... and him,” Rayleigh answered his wife after a while and then let out a yawn. They had worked till late in the night, as usual when the bar was open. To say goodbye to Shanks, they had both risen way earlier than usual, and the tiredness was visible in eyelids wanting to close over red eyes that were circled by shadows. They really needed to get back to bed soon.

The sun was warm on the skin, even though it was early in the morning. Shanks had decided to ride back early, after all he would sit on his horse for around six hours and a trip like that was always safer when taken in daylight. Sabaody was a strange city, the districts varying greatly from sandy and hot at the edges that faced the Redline, to cool and green close to the Sandora River. It was why the rich and famous lived next to the scalawags of this land, as if they were totally unaware the other party existed.

“Do you think Shanks will figure out your seal is only fake?” Shakky asked in a low voice, her eyes darting from the spot Shanks had vanished to Ray's face.

“Hopefully not,” was the simple answer, and both knew it would be for the best if Shanks kept on believing Ray had still the power to constrain his old pupil. But if Shanks really wanted to break his seal, he would be able to do so, simply by the power that grew in him to dimensions neither Shakky nor Rayleigh knew the limit of anymore. “When he believes he is safe from his own power he will be calmer.”

A sigh sounded next to Ray's ear and as if it was a signal for both of them, they stepped back from their position. “Let’s go to bed.”

It were simply words, but they also carried a lot more than just their original meaning. Shakky was right, they couldn't do much now, other than waiting and hoping there was a way to open that necklace. It was a gamble to guess whether the necklace would open before Shanks came off age or the other way round, but not one Ray would bet his money on, though normally he took idiotic risks when it came to gambling.

“I will be away for a while in a few days.” The words Ray spoke sounded like he was far away with his thoughts, and he was surprised when he felt a hand on his neck, pulling him down. The kiss was just a reassurance that is was okay.  Shakky didn’t even seem to be surprised.

“I know, it's okay. After all, you always come back,” Shakky told him, and fished out a cigarette from one of the boxes in her pockets. Some words were mumbled, the stick waggling in her mouth before smoke began to rise that scented the air with her favorite flavor. A sly smirk crept up Rayleigh’s lips while he watched her smoke. He would take some time off to see if he could find something out about that black magic that blocked the presence of other magical seals. His searching methods were just not the most legal. Not that anyone in this family cared.

“Yeah and I'm not going before tomorrow,” he smirked. When Shakky was done with her cigarette and gripped his hand to lead him upstairs, Ray knew there would be something else, something enjoyable, before they finally went to sleep.

The ride back to his castle had been exhausting, but a lot easier than the one to Sabaody. It was strange what a little bit of sleep, and a proper breakfast could do, but for a person who slept rarely well or through a whole night, it made a huge difference. Also, there had been no rush. Roo was aware Shanks would be back some time during the day, but no one would miss him if he arrived one or two hours later. It also was a good excuse to get away from his duties for a little while. So he had taken his time, had given his horse a little peace and had watched the passing landscape as he rode through it.

The known land varied in its climate, flora and fauna, even though it was in general situated in a warm place. Only the Redline, a massive mountain chain that separated his and Kaidou's territory from Whitebeard's and Big Mom's was covered in snow. But that was to be expected since its highest peak could not even be seen when the sky was serene and cloudless. There were a few mountain passes that connected the two sides of the land, but it was a lot easier for the people living in either Whitebeard's or his territory to pass the border in the east, because there the land became flatter and finally merged in a massive jungle area.

Shanks was aware that his and Whitebeard's people, especially those living near the Dragon's passage, were in contact due to trading. It was a solitary exception to the normally stiff relationships of the Yonko and their people, to phrase it nicely. But the old man and him had always had a certain kind of respect towards each other, and as Marco was one of the other Yonko's sons and his ex-lover, Shanks couldn't help feeling favorable towards Whitebeard. He much preferred the truce over constantly having to be on guard, and as it had been Marco who ditched Shanks, Whitebeard hadn't even had a reason to be mad at him.

A sigh escaped Shanks at those memories, while he slowly rode through his city, Manoas, to get back home. Having a person to relay onto was nice, but Marco never had been that kind of partner. Even though there had been trust, the awareness that both of them should be enemies had raised nagging doubts. The end of that ill-fated relationship lay now years in the past, and Shanks held no ill feelings towards the other. What shouldn't be together normally didn't make it anyway.

His eyes darted over the houses of his home town, taking in the familiar scenery. Most of the walls were painted white, to keep the inside cool, despite the burning sun. It was spring time, still, but summer would come soon and make living harder with its heat. Water was provided by the Mano, a big river that ran through Manoas. It granted the city a quality of life a lot of other towns could only dream of. It was a lot greener, palm trees, hibiscus and aloe vera were just a few of the many plants and trees that grew between the houses, and in the gardens. It was so different from what he had seen on his ride from Sabaody to here. Even though the two cities were cornered by both the Sandora and Mano, there was a stretch of land in between where Shanks had only seen dry land. Cacti, tufts of grass and maybe some small bushes with tiny leafs were all that was left, fighting against the burning heat of the sun-rays. A lot of these plants would die in summer, and only when the winter brought some rain, the nature in these dried-out parts of the known land would come to life again.

It had taken him a while to reach his palace. Even with his hood covering his red hair people recognized him in his own city and wanted to greet him. He wasn’t too sublime to ignore them, so he talked with people and listened to whatever they told him. It was a good way to discern if his town’s folk was happy, and arrange for changes if not. Without these people, he would be nothing but a man sitting in a palace, and as a Yonko he had responsibilities. How could he reign a whole territory without making sure his own capital was safe and sound?

Entering the cool halls of his home was a relief nevertheless. The ride had been long and exhausting, but he knew each passing mile had been needed, to ensure Benn’s safety. His heart became a little heavier thinking of the man, with those sad eyes who revealed so much and nothing at all.

Usually he would walk up straight to his room to take a nap and rest, but the haunting thoughts kept him from doing so. With swift steps, he headed towards the kitchen, hoping to catch a coffee, no matter it was already midday and lunch probably over. When he opened the door to the huge hall he saw he was right. Aside from two small groups who greeted him with smiles, no one else was around. Clattering sounded from the actual kitchen, while only some baskets of bread and one last stack of plates stood on the buffet, ready to be tidied up. A soft sigh escaped Shanks’ mouth, as he looked around to be sure, but his fears had come true, the coffee already gone. Damnit.

While a small pout graced his face, the door to the kitchen opened and Roo stepped out. The chef hummed, smiling inwardly, perfectly at ease with himself. It took a while until he recognized Shanks, who hadn’t stepped far into the room. However, when he did so his smile grew a little wider and he changed direction, to move to his superior.

“Shanks. Good to have you back. You’re hungry?”

As usual his first question was about food, nothing else to be expected from Roo. A little chuckle left Shanks lips and he shrugged. It wasn’t that he was particularly hungry, but he wouldn’t say no to a snack and last but not least a cup of good coffee. It would be some time until he went to sleep tonight, and somehow he had the feeling that a nap wasn’t going to happen today. “How about coffee and sandwiches? Or are there leftovers?”

“There are, but I’ll get you your sandwiches,” Roo answered and nodded to the kitchen, before he reached for the last few baskets and picked them up. Shanks followed him into the other room, always a little amazed how the chef managed to whip up such delicacies from this place. He would just mess up with all the pans, bowls and wooden spoons. Leaning against a counter he watched Roo put away the baskets before he filled a silvery kind of pot with ground coffee and water. The whole construct was placed on the hearth and Shanks shook his head, still astonished that something as simple as that could produce the finest coffee he knew – even though he had watched Roo making it many times by now.

“How was your trip?” The question wasn’t surprising, as Roo was one of the few people who actually knew why Shanks had ridden to Ray in such a haste. While the scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the room, the atmosphere became a little heavier. The tension was only interrupted by Roo’s constant working on the sandwiches.

“Strange,” came Shanks answer after a while of thinking how to phrase it. Trying to get rid of the lump in his throat, he forced himself not to think of the few moments his magic had slipped control. It was a burden he did not want to place on Roo’s shoulders.

“It will be difficult. More difficult than I believed.”

Holding a plate in his hands, Roo turned around to look at Shanks. The sad smile could not be missed, but instead of saying something, he shoved the food into the others hands. It looked delicious and when Shanks caught a glance that told him to start eating, he did as he was told. Tastes of cooked ham, sweet butter, sun-ripened tomatoes, basil and cheese melted on his tongue, again proofing why Roo was a master of his trade. “Thanks to all gods you’re my chef. Seriously, I’m always amazed how good a simple sandwich can taste.”

“You’re just easy to satisfy,” was the snide remark and it made Shanks grin. His chuckle sounded over to the other, and even though it didn’t seem very polite since his mouth was still full of his bite, it’s effect was still the same and a bit of the heaviness drained. Coffee was filled into a mug, topped up with sugar and milk. Roo hadn’t had to ask, he knew how Shanks liked his drink. “Don’t worry, this necklace won’t stay on forever.”

With a thankful nod Shanks took the mug to take a sip. The plate had been placed next to him on the counter, and now his hands were wrapped around the warm porcelain. Searching in Roo’s face, he tried to find some evidence that the tone of voice really mirrored his feelings, and a small but determined sparkle in the other’s eyes confirmed that indeed the words weren’t just spoken to sooth Shanks’ stressed-out mind, but also because Roo wanted to see Benn free. “How has it been while I was gone?”

For a moment there was silence around the two men, but then Roo grinned and Shanks couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “Tell me!”

“You can see yourself if you like. If I remember correctly, he should be with Yasopp now, making the poor guy look like a fool with his bow.”

During their walk to the gym Shanks was informed about what had happened during his absence. It wasn’t much beside the news that Benn had been working with the chef in the kitchen and that Professor Clover had possible news about Robin. Shanks pondered this second issue and decided to visit the older librarian during the day.

The gym was an extra part of the palace, for free use by the staff whenever they liked. It contained a swimming pool, a running area as well as some fields to play different team sports, an area to train swordsmanship and an archery. The halls were connected to the palace by canopied passages, pillars out of red stone holding the ceiling. Several arcs gave a brilliant view into the large gardens that sprawled at the back of the building. Citrus and palm trees, hibiscus, some ponds and flowers over flowers invited to take a walk through the green that was spotted with colors. Shanks loved to sit outside when he needed time to think, but his duties kept him from doing so most of the time.

Few people were at the gym at this time of the day, most of the members of the palace busy with their work. When Roo and Shanks reached the archery building, they heard commotion coming from inside. The large wooden door was opened by Roo and gave sight to a group of people standing at a safe distance from Yasopp and Benn, each holding a longbow.

It was strange not to be noticed, but all of the attention in the room was focused on Benn, who stood at the end of the hall, bow raised, arrow nocked on to the string. His concentration could be gripped with bare hands as he aimed for the target. Shanks breath halted, while he couldn’t avert his eyes from the man. Muscles tensed, small drops of sweat running down his temple, Benn was nothing but beautiful.

A low whirr announced the releasing of the arrow. A second later cheers filled the large hall and while everyone admired the accuracy of Benn’s shot, Shanks wasn’t able to. His eyes felt like glued to the other man’s face, taking in every single shift in the concentrated expression. Those grayish eyes became a little darker, the brows were furrowed and when Benn bit his lower lip, Shanks wanted to kiss that frown away.

Guilt filled his stomach when he realized what he was thinking and how he reacted to Benn once again. Just like in the auction house, Shanks wished for things to be different but knew they weren’t. Benn had endured enough and no way would he increase this burden by imposing his own selfish desires on him.

The thoughts helped to force his gaze away from Benn and to the target, a round disk, and again Shanks’ eyes widened when he noticed that Benn not only hit the bull’s eye but there were three arrows already stuck in the very center of it. A large part of Shanks wished at least one of them was Yasopp’s doing, but when a hand patted his shoulder, he knew it wasn’t.

“Amazing, isn’t it,” Roo grinned and pushed Shanks further into the archery. He stumbled but didn’t fall, no matter it felt like it. “I showed him around yesterday between breakfast and lunch. We went to the gym after he had seen the library, where Yasopp was testing a new bow. I convinced him to shoot, and he hit every single time. I never saw someone give Yasopp a run for his money like that!”

It was amazing to see how Benn could shoot, but Shanks immediately wondered why the man had looked so dissatisfied with his skills. As if he felt what he did wasn’t good enough. The thought was scary, making Benn appear like a honed weapon. Had he been a dangerous toy for previous masters who craved for blood? Cause no matter how much Benn would have wanted to deny the orders - with the necklace, he wouldn’t have had any chance to refuse.

“The bow’s too small. It’s the largest bow we have and it’s still too small. Didn’t believe I would ever meet someone who… oh,” Shanks heard Yasopp talking to Benn, the cheers having died down to exited whispers. However, as soon as Yasopp spotted the two new members of the audience, his eyes met Shanks and he stopped in the middle of his sentence “Shanks.”

Hearing this name, Benn turned to face the new spectators. Their gazes met and for a short moment, everything else was forgotten while Shanks took in the other man’s features again. This time the connection was mutual. Without a word spoken, he knew Benn was surprised to see him, confused even as he wasn’t sure how to handle facing the redhead. Shanks would have loved to speak up, to tell him he didn’t need to be afraid, didn’t need to see Shanks as his superior, owner, master, whatever, but before any words could leave his lips, Benn broke the eye contact, attempting to bow.

“Stop!” he called out, making Benn halt in his movement. With long strides Shanks closed the distance, ignoring the stares of the other people, trying to smile no matter it felt near to impossible to do so. “You don’t have to bow in front of me. No one has to.”

“As you wish,” Benn replied, tone indifferent as usual and it was like a strike to Shanks’ heart, but he took the blow without hesitation. There were too many people around to lose his face.

“I didn’t want to interrupt you. I…,” he said and then stopped because he wasn’t sure how to go on. Usually Shanks wasn’t afraid to just speak what was on his mind, but right now he feared he might say something inappropriate, things that would destroy more than they would help. “I would like to ask for a little of your time in the evening. Can you come to my room after dinner?”

A short nod was all Shanks got as an answer and at once he wished his words hadn’t sounded so suggestive. He wished he hadn’t seen disgust washing over Benn’s face before a cool neutral mask slid into place like a well practiced disguise that didn’t betray any feelings.

Chapter Text

Shanks used the time between the visit of the archery and dinner to have a talk with Professor Clover. The news about Robin worried him, even though he had no idea what to do about it. Those commotions could be caused due to Robin showing herself in public, or maybe she had just been spotted by accident. Both versions were possible, and there could very well be a whole lot more reasons for the uproar. The problem was that nothing of it had happened in Shanks’ territory, and therefore open investigation was not permitted. He couldn’t risk a war, and Kaidou had always had an aggressive attitude. Buying and freeing the slaves had been risky enough - Shanks knew he would better not set a foot on the other Yonko’s land for a while.

“I’ll promise to send someone to check things out, but it needs to be undercover,” he said, a frown on his face, as he sat on an armchair in the library. “You’re sure the commotion has been in Nanohana?”

He got a resolute nod from the professor, who had looked the place up again to be sure as he had forgotten the name earlier during his discussion with Roo. Nanohana was the harbor city where Shanks had anchored the Red Force while they had been in Alubarna to free all those people… Benn. To think he had been so close to Robin but missed her managed to form a lump in his throat. His heart felt like a stone, becoming heavier with each passing second. For years the girl had been on her own, and Shanks hated that he hadn’t managed to convince her she was safe with him. Damn those government dogs, damn those Warlords who judged people with no consideration of their age, character or their circumstances. He knew Robin was no bad person, he knew the girl needed someone to care for her, but the world didn’t allow her to live freely. If he had just been a little older back then, a little more powerful... It was just another example of how wrong it was for him to be a Yonko. He couldn’t free Benn. He couldn’t protect a person who needed protection. He wanted to scream, but refrained from it - the surprise would probably cause the old professor to have a heart attack, and he didn’t need that on his conscience together with everything else already weighing him down.

“I’ll see who can ride there early in the morning tomorrow,” Shanks finally said, forcing himself to stop brooding and to concentrate on the present instead. Light was playing on the floor, coming from above. Some golden sunrays sneaked their way into the library and played with the shadows, lost in their eternal dance. Suddenly he realized that the professor was watching him with a peculiar expression. He had tilted his head a little, as if he wanted to have a better look at his superior.

“You were in Sabaody, visiting Master Rayleigh, right?” Professor Clover asked and the unexpected statement made Shanks jump a little. His head snapped up and his back straightened. How did the man know? He had only told a few people why he had been away from the palace, and he knew they would not gossip about his whereabouts or reasons. But Clover had always been a very thoughtful and wise man, so Shanks shouldn’t be surprised he had guessed his destination right.

His eyes wandered over the older man. His phrasing alone told Shanks the professor had been at the palace for a long time. Only those who had lived under the reign of Roger and had known how life had been in this palace during the times of the High King called Rayleigh master. Not out of fear or because a necklace forced them to do so, but out of respect towards a man who combined wisdom with strength… and sometimes recklessness. Roger had never wanted to be addressed so formally, but Rayleigh had allowed some people to use his title in order to rise and lead as the first minister and right hand of the highest king. Shanks had had to call Ray ‘master’, too, or else he would have never learned how to be respectful and would still be the insolent brat he used to be.

“Yes, I was there,” Shanks answered carefully, absently plucking at some strands of his hair. Realizing what he was doing, he lowered his hand. Unconscious movements always betrayed his nervousness.

“Have you possibly been talking about that new young man, Benn?”

Shanks tensed, his suspicions roused. Magic twirled in his soul, the memory of what had happened still fresh in his mind. He knew the professor had met Benn while he had been gone; maybe that was the reason they were suddenly discussing Benn instead of Robin. Or had Roo let something slip about Shanks’ reason to visit Rayleigh?

“I take your silence as a yes… has something, well, happened?” Immediately his loss of control came to Shanks’ mind, but when Clover went on speaking, only confusion remained. “Has Master Rayleigh behaved strangely when you told him about Benn?”

Unlike Shanks, Rayleigh had been his usual self. Sure, he had been surprised to see Shanks wearing an owner’s ring, and even appalled when he discovered the black magic clinging to it, but other than that there hadn’t been a moment his old teacher had acted odd. Only he, only Shanks hadn’t been himself.

“No. Nothing out of order has happened with Ray,” Shanks answered truthfully, relieved he hadn’t had to admit his outburst. Worrying his people wasn’t something he wished to do, and nothing bad had happened anyway, hadn’t it? After all, no one had been hurt… “Why?”

The question hung in the air, wavering like a balloon, ready to pop. But the bang didn’t come -  instead, the tension slowly subsided due to a mumbling from the old professor.

“Not important, not at all. I guess I was just mistaken. I never knew them well enough anyway.”

“Who?” Shanks asked, now curious rather than concerned. It felt like, for a moment, the professor had been lost in memories of times long before Shanks had known Roger. He loved hearing those stories, they always were entertaining and often promised a good laugh. Before Roger had become High King, the duo of his adoptive father and Rayleigh had always been up to adventures and crazy stunts. Sure, Shanks had witnessed that behavior for quite a long time while he lived with Roger, but he knew there had been a time before him, and he longed to know more about it to get a better image of the two men who raised him.

He was disappointed when Professor Clover shook his head and smiled with forced politeness. “No one important, Shanks. No one Rayleigh needs to be remembered of. We should probably go to get some dinner.”

With those words, the old man got up from his seat and headed through the large room towards the exit. When he crossed a fading beam of light, his shadow fell on the ground and Shanks wondered what sad memory lay hidden behind those words. He refrained from asking, he knew there wouldn’t be an answer. It had to be quite gloomy, Shanks thought, to drive the librarian out of his familiar surroundings into the arms of a large group of people out of his own free will. He usually avoided showing up for a meal too early.

Despite the few days Benn had now lived in the palace since he had arrived, he still was amazed by the small things rather than those people would call impressive. He didn’t pay attention to the large pillars holding up the ceiling of the dining room, but noticed all the scents that filled the hall at dinner time. The cheery laughter surrounding him amazed him. Roo was a brilliant cook and the atmosphere during the meals was never hostile, as he had experienced it many times before in other households. There was no fear of getting too little food and leaving hungry. For slaves, it wasn’t uncommon to go with very little food - not particularly for pleasure slaves like him who were kept in good shape because they were expensive and had to look attractive and vital, but the maids, the kids, the old and weak ones were pushed even further into misery as they wouldn’t make high prices even if they were properly nourished and healthy. But here… Roo would rather cook something extra than allowing a single person to go hungry.

Working with the cooks and assistants was a hard but welcomed job. Benn wasn’t used to working in a kitchen and didn’t yet know how to do things properly. He never had learned how to cook but no one had gotten angry at his mistakes and he was a fast learner. After his training with Yasopp, he had hastened to the kitchen and while he had been able to occupy his mind during work, it was hard to continue doing so while he sat at one of the long tables, a plate of the food he had helped to prepare in front of him. His eyes drifted around the hall aimlessly until he caught a sight of red hair.

Benn suddenly felt sick. He picked at the sweet potatoes on his plate, but couldn’t force himself to eat anymore. Instead, his thoughts wandered back to that awkward moment at the archery when Shanks had asked to meet him in the evening. To Benn, it was quite clear what the Yonko wanted. No matter how nice he was treated here, no matter he was allowed to wear a scarf to cover his necklace, he still was and would stay a slave. A pleasure slave. Bought to be used and discarded like an old worn-out shirt.

Shanks isn’t like that…

He wanted to believe the voice that whispered to him from the back of his mind, wished he could believe in Shanks’ friendliness, in the strange connection which always formed when their gazes met, but that would be naïve. Benn knew his place and yet he hated it, hated everything about it. The more people were friendly to him, the harder it got to lock his feelings away.

He rubbed his face with his hands which got him a strange glance from Roo who was sitting next to him, but who thankfully was chatting with one of the other chefs. Benn shrugged casually, a gesture meant to tell the other man not to worry. And why should he? What was about to happen wasn’t new to Benn – he knew his place – and Roo had been with the Yonko when Shanks bought him, so he should be aware of what would come to pass eventually.

“I have to excuse myself. I should get ready,” Benn said in a muted voice and reached for his still full plate, but Roo stopped him. The cook’s hand softly touched his arm, but the brief feeling of warmth didn’t make the situation any better. Neither was that sad look on Roo’s face.

“You haven’t eaten at all. I’ll put it away so you can have it later when you get hungry.”

Doubting his appetite would return after the meeting with Shanks, Benn nodded nevertheless, thanked Roo and left the room. He felt eyes following his steps, but he refrained from turning to see who was watching him. He could guess. It didn’t matter.

A last glance into the mirror showed Benn he was almost ready to go over and knock at Shanks’ door. He had showered, changed clothes and was now wearing a button up shirt and a simple trousers. The fabric was dark and airy but the fit was rather tight and emphasized his muscular body. Though he didn’t own much clothes, just those he had been given at his arrival, it had taken him a while to decide what he wanted to wear. He knew he wouldn’t wear what he had picked now on a daily basis, only for … occasions like this.

With each part of clothing he had stripped off, he had locked parts of himself away and when he had stepped into the new pair of trousers and put on the shirt, thick walls protected his self. Walls that would ensure he wouldn’t give away his pain, disgust and misery. Walls that distanced him from what he knew could take parts of himself and just crush them.

Shanks hadn’t given any orders about how he was supposed to look. Different owners had different preferences. While some liked to strip off his clothes, others enjoyed pure nakedness right at the beginning. There had been wishes concerning almost every detail, from the way he had to keep his hair to the position he had to take when his owner entered the room. But as Shanks had just kept quiet, Benn went with what he knew people usually liked. Hence the body-hugging clothes.

He ran a hand through his hair and pulled the band holding it together off. Strands, black like the night and still slightly wet, spilled over his back and framed his face. He had bound them up while he had changed, but he knew the long hair suited him, especially when he wore it open. The better he was the sooner it would be over… or so he hoped.

Next, he opened the first three buttons of his shirt, giving a glimpse of the smooth defined muscles underneath. He tried to swallow his nervousness, but his throat suddenly felt parched. Soft gray went dark, his eyes losing their shimmer. His left hand rubbed over the edges of his jawline, the pale skin a stark contrast to his lips. Dark lashes blinked away the wariness, and he straightened. There were steps sounding through the wall from the neighboring room. Shanks was walking up and down, probably waiting for him, so Benn closed the door of his wardrobe, shut away the mirror and left his self behind when he walked out of his room.

A longer distance would have granted Benn a little time to prepare himself for what was coming, but as Shanks’ bedroom was directly next to his there was no chance of a delay. Shimmering red wood decorated with ornaments and carvings invited him to enter and after a deep breath Benn raised his hand and knocked once. The sound echoed through the wood and into the room. In this moment Benn realized he still wore the red scarf. He had gotten used to it by now, even though it had been just two days since he had found it freshly washed among the rest of the clothes he had been given. Somehow covering his necklace now when he would soon be used like the slave he still was, felt like a self-delusion, so he reached for the silk, unwrapped it from his throat carefully and clutched it in a tight fist.

Just when the red fabric revealed the gold underneath, the door opened and he found himself facing wonderful bright, brown eyes that seemed to devour him.

With every step Benn took out of the dining room, Shanks felt guiltier. Even though the other man’s stance was upright, it felt like he was fleeing from the hall, fleeing from what he assumed would happen despite Shanks having no intention of fulfilling those nightmares. They would stay just that; images conjured by a past he could do nothing to erase. But he would try to save Benn from adding another bad memory to his collection.

His glance met Roo’s who subtly indicated he should wait for another few minutes. Benn would need the time to prepare, Shanks thought to himself. But still the desire was there to just follow the man and to tell him, show him, that he was safe.

Hunger suddenly gone, he pushed his half-eaten meal aside. A risen eyebrow from the Professor, who sat across him, reminded Shanks that very few knew of Benn’s former occupation, and even less could probably guess what bothered Shanks so much.

Before the librarian could say anything, Shanks picked up his fork and forced another bite down his throat. He wasn’t tasting anything and he knew he wouldn’t be able to empty his plate. Roo seemed to have realized as much. He got up from his spot, a full plate that probably wasn’t his own – Roo would never leave leftovers on his plate – in his hand. When he reached his friend and superior, he smiled. “I assume you want to prepare yourself, so I’ll put your dish away. Come down again when you get hungry, okay?”

Shanks nodded gratefully and pushed his chair back. Nothing in him indicated he would ever feel hunger again, but the thought was as foolish as it was unrealistic. When he would be lying in bed, tossing and turning because sleep wouldn’t come, his hunger would probably return, since he hadn’t eaten enough to keep it at bay the whole, restless night. And there was no way he would find sleep tonight.

“Thank you. I’ll see you all later.” With this words he rushed out of the hall, to wait for Benn to show up at his door.

Usually Shanks wasn’t an impatient person, but as he waited for Benn he realized that this trait only applied to matters he didn’t really care about. He cared for Benn, and with each step he took pacing in his room, his anxiety rose. He wanted Benn to feel at home in his palace, to live without the constant reminder of his past and finally realize he had the freedom to choose his own actions and that only he owned his body. But Shanks had the feeling none of this would happen until that necklace came off.

When the knock sounded, he halted in his movement, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. This would be just a simple talk, he told himself, but still he felt like it could decide the course of the whole relationship he would have with Benn. The thought had been planted in his mind by his own fears, and he hoped he wouldn’t damage what little trust had grown between them.

Sighing, Shanks moved to the door. Letting Benn wait was both not polite and wouldn’t do either of them any good.

He had expected to find himself facing Benn the way he had been since their first encounter in the auction house. However, what was awaiting Shanks wasn’t even close to it but breathing temptation. Grayish eyes looked at him out of a beautiful, angular face framed by long silky dark hair. It were those eyes that captured Shanks’ gaze first, with all their hidden sadness and pain though his features seemed like an impenetrable mask, betraying no emotion at all. Next he let his gaze wander lower, and something in him stirred involuntarily as his body reacted to the man in front of him. The dark clothes emphasized Benn’s pale skin, the cut of the button up shirt and his dark trousers showed enough to let Shanks guess how well-built the other was, but still left enough to his imagination. He had the sudden urge to undress this man just to discover if those pictures his mind threw at him – pictures of muscles and smooth skin and perfection - were real. Goddess, he was weak in regard of his own desires.

Shanks swallowed hard, tried to get his mind out of the gutter and cleared his throat. Then he stepped back to make enough room for Benn to come in. There was a flicker in his own eyes, the edges of his mouth pulled downwards while he watched Benn’s graceful movements. Just then, as the man passed him, Shanks noticed the red scarf clutched in his hands. He realized once more that Benn would never believe himself to be a free man and put trust in him unless he managed to free him of the metal circling his neck. That thought quenched his passion like a bucket of icewater. He really had to get a grip on himself, otherwise he might do something he would regret forever.

Benn stood in the middle of the room like a statue that didn’t seem to belong with the chaos that reigned in Shanks’ quarters. His grey eyes regarded him warily which forced Shanks to act. Even though he was quite sure he knew what Benn expected to happen now, he couldn’t think of a way to prove that he was not like all the other people who had abused the man in front of him. While Shanks sat down on his bed he gestured for Benn to take a seat on one of the chairs next to his desk.

“Sit down,” he mumbled, feeling embarrassed and self-conscious – a great contrast to his usual boisterous behavior. “You make me feel nervous with expecting something that won’t happen.”

Benn had no idea what he had expected but surely not this kind of a mess. Clothes had been tossed everywhere. They were strewn all over the desk that stood by a window, lay crumpled on a massive bed and even formed heaps in the corners of the room. They were probably everywhere but in the simple wardrobe that stood next to the door through which he had just come in. Bottles of different kinds of alcohol, mostly rum but also sake, added up to the picture. Roo had explained to Benn that he had to keep his room clean by himself, something he didn’t mind at all since it meant that no other person would enter his room without his permission. Faced with Shanks’ chaos, he wondered whether this rule applied to the Yonko as well. But that would be ridiculous, right? A man as powerful as Shanks wouldn’t be expected to clean by himself for he certainly had more important things to do, like running his country. But his chaotic surroundings seemed to attest to the fact that even if tidying up was Shanks’ duty, he obviously didn’t do it very often.

Unsure what he should think of it, Benn was standing in the middle of the room trying not to look too curious. Controlling his expressions usually was easy for him, but he wasn’t sure what feelings his face betrayed at the moment. The urge to turn around and take a look at the rest of the room pulled at him, but he was neither allowed to do so, nor had he any idea why he was so interested in his current surroundings. Probably because despite all this mess it felt like Shanks was truly living here. On the nightstand was a picture of him in his younger years with two men that seemed familiar to Benn. He could only see it out of the corner of his eye so he wasn’t too sure if he actually knew them. There were pictures and maps on the wall, and random personal belongings were placed across the room. But nothing in here gave away Shanks’ status. The furniture wasn’t any more elaborate than his own, the room was only slightly bigger. Only the bed was made for two. All in all, Shanks’ quarters didn’t fit Benn’s preconceived notion of how the ruler of a whole part of the common land should live.

Shanks’ words pulled Benn out of his thoughts and his gaze darted to the chairs, while he tried to wrap his mind around the others’ words. What exactly would not happen?

Finding two chairs that weren’t actually covered by something surprised Benn, so he obeyed the command – or was it just a request? – and sat down. His back was stiff, his nerves tense, but mostly because he couldn’t figure out how things would evolve from now. Shanks hadn’t yet shown any intention of just taking him, but if not for that, for what other reason was Benn here?

“Benn…”

Upon hearing his name, Benn raised his head. He had avoided looking into Shanks’ eyes directly, fearing that strange connection more than he longed for it. He wouldn’t allow himself to get attached. Not when he might be faced with rape, as it wasn’t anything else. Now, though, making eye contact couldn’t be avoided any longer. The sadness that shimmered in Shanks’s gaze caused him to forget his own fears for just a moment, and for the first time this evening he truly looked at the redhead. The other man’s posture didn’t fit a powerful ruler, but rather showed his doubts and uncertainty. Hunched shoulders, bitten lips, fingers that kept picking at the blanket again and again – Benn was surprised at how self-conscious the other man acted. Even though he had seen Shanks wearing his current clothing before, he only now realized that they weren’t by any means luxurious. A simple linen shirt that was white and airy, brown trousers, sandals. His appearance wasn’t impressive by any means, but damn, those brown eyes matched with the tousled red hair made him anything but plain. The angles of Shanks’ face, the fine lines around his eyes when he narrowed them a little in concentration and his lips when he pulled the corners down a bit… no, Shanks probably couldn’t be described as beautiful by usual standards, but there was something about him that made him stand out. It left people with the urge to dig deeper than the surface, to really get to know him and this urge pulled at Benn, too. It pushed at the walls surrounding his heart, pulled at the thin threat of trust that had begun to connect him to this man.

“… I won’t touch you!”

These words somehow managed to cut through his stream of thoughts, and suddenly, Benn was on his feet again, staring at Shanks disbelievingly. His hand clenched around the already crumpled scarf, his body was vibrating with tension. This was a joke, it had to be one. He had been so lost in his thoughts that he must have misheard. What kind of game was played here, and to what purpose?

Even in times when Benn hadn’t had control over what was done to his body, he had always managed to keep his mouth shut. Saying anything, insults, dares, shouts, would only have led to punishment or even his death. This sudden reaction alone would have actually been enough to enrage certain owners Benn had had before, but Shanks… Shanks still hadn’t moved. The silence stretching between them was unbearable, even though noises from outside could be heard through the walls. The sound of bright, carefree laughter reached their ears, maybe a child’s, but it felt far, far away. In this moment, everything outside of the room felt like a different world. A world where Benn would never belong.

His eyes followed Shanks’ movements as the other man pressed his hands, plain with the exception of the owner’s ring, into the mattress to push himself up from his sitting position on the bed. A low creak sounded through the room and as the man came closer, Benn’s wish to run battled with his fast beating heart. The scenery was a familiar yet despised one and without effort, Benn’s walls that had lowered before went back up again. Shanks’ notion of not touching him was a strange one.

As Shanks silently reached for the red silk, softly pulling it out of his grip, an irritated “What?” escaped Benn’s lips. The warmth that was radiating from the other man’s body made his nerves prickle, every sense in him screaming to just do something, but Benn couldn’t move. Frozen to the spot he waited and a shudder ran down his spine when the cold fabric touched his neck. A gentle breeze of breath brushed Benn’s cheeks and his long hair got tangled in the scarf. Shanks was so close that Benn could smell his scent, a mix of what he believed to be rum, honey and something… something that was uniquely Shanks and that made his heart ache with longing.

An endless moment later Shanks stepped back while the red fabric stayed draped loosely around Benn’s neck with the ends hanging down his chest, covering the necklace and the skin his partly opened shirt revealed. Only now he realized Shanks had stuck to his word. He hadn’t been touched. Not even once.

“I am sorry if I gave you a wrong impression. I should have thought about what my words would mean to you. I’m just not good… with words,” Shanks said, while he moved back to sit on the bed. It creaked softly under the weight. A weary smile graced his lips. Benn was still keeping silent, too shocked to form a coherent sentence. His gray eyes watched the other intently from above, tracing the softened lines of Shanks’ face. His expression betrayed his disbelief of what had just happened. And it wasn’t only disbelief he felt, his inability to predict what would happen next made him feel uneasy, like he had lost any control over the situation and therefore was completely at Shanks’ mercy.

“Roo has told me you work with him in the kitchen,” Shanks kept on speaking. He had probably realized Benn wouldn’t say anything. Not yet. Or never again. Benn felt like he had forgotten how to speak. Or how to exist. Maybe he would just disappear any moment. However, he managed to nod. It was a small gesture but it seemed to encourage his current… his… Shanks to continue speaking.

“Do you like the work?” It was a simple question. A question a considerate employer would ask his employee after some days of work, to see if everything was alright. It was the kind of question that made Shanks into a very good person… and let Benn look like the fool he was. Suddenly shivering, he sat himself back down onto the stool, afraid his knees wouldn’t hold him any longer. A slave… he was a simple slave but yet a part of him wasn’t feeling like it anymore. Just because Shanks had had the chance to use him and had decided not to take it. And maybe also because of the consideration he showed by asking Benn if he was happy with his assigned work.

“Yes…”

The answer came after an endless moment of silence and Benn’s voice was uncharacteristically flat. It wasn’t a lie – after all, he did like the work. He felt appreciated working with people who valued his help, and it was good to see how something as simple as food could make people happy. Food was important and in Shanks’ palace it was both good and plenty. It was a place where people lived without fear, where you could feel secure, and where even a slave like Benn was only ever treated with respect and kindness. This was what being a free man must feel like, Benn thought with bitterness and yearning alike, for he wouldn’t risk opening up to this new life. What could he believe? What was he to expect? Why was Shanks not using him like the slave he was? He didn’t behave like any other person who had owned him before. Who was that man, and especially, who was he to him, to Benn?

“Good, I guess. Roo has already said he would like to keep you in the kitchen, so that’s settled. Go talk to Yasopp about the salary. As a cook’s assistant, you don’t earn that much, but it should be decent enough,” Shanks said smiling encouragingly, but despite his cheerful demeanor, something about him told Benn that he was still sad. Maybe it was the tone of his voice? Or his eyes which seemed less bright, looking dark and exhausted?

Benn wanted to reply with a ‘Thank you’ but was struck silent. His brain hadn’t fully processed Shanks’ words. He had been so lost in his thoughts that it took a while before he realized their meaning. A sharp inhale announced his surprise, and he clenched his hands into fists.

“Salary?” Benn asked, searching the other’s face for the lie. But he could find no hint of it, and when their eyes met, he saw surprise in them. Real, honest surprise about the redirected question. It made his heart beat faster, though he was unaware of the reasons.

“Yes, as I said it won’t be much. Yasopp can tell you the exact sum. And you will also get two days off,” was the simple answer out of Shanks’ mouth, his ever-fidgeting fingers coming to a rest for a moment. Laughter sounded again from outside, cheery and loud, and it would have been a good opportunity for them to break the eye contact as it had grown more and more intense. But they were unable to look away, lost in each other’s gazes. Invisible strings seemed to bind them together.

“But I’m a slave.” The words had slipped without thought, and already Benn wished he hadn’t spoken his mind. The metal felt heavy around his neck and he forced his hands to keep still, so they wouldn’t reach for it and remind Shanks of the tangible truth of his words. All he could do was stare into Shanks’ eyes, watching them becoming more and more dull. Everything in Benn wanted to shout, to scream, that it was not fair to be treated with so much kindness and understanding, when this cursed necklace spoke a different language. He wanted to insult Shanks, dare him to take the thing off. He wore the bloody ring and therefore owned him. Yet he treated Benn like a free man.

The contrast between Shanks behavior towards him and Benn’s apprehension of how people used slaves like himself made him feel unsettled. The constant fear of Shanks changing his mind about him forced Benn to keep his guard up in the other’s presence constantly. He already dreaded the moment Shanks would decide to make use of the golden band around his finger. The moment he would decide solely looking at him wasn’t enough. No person was that generous. The worst was that Benn knew it would hurt, and if he opened up to the other man now, it would only be worse. Not wanting to make himself more vulnerable by revealing any more, he decided to keep silent.

“No, you are not,” Shanks said while he pushed himself up from the bed. Red hair covered his face as he turned to the window over the desk. Maybe he was looking for the source of laughter that had already faded away. A pang of guilt made Benn’s heart ache at the sight. He longed to see the expression on Shanks’ face, yet he remained seated. Shanks’ sadness was his doing, but he felt unable to take back his words for they were true. “Go to bed, Benn. You’ll have to get up early for work tomorrow.”

The voice that reached Benn was so saturated with defeat, it felt like a slap in the face. He realized his words had really hurt Shanks and anguish filled him. He wondered what had happened to him in the past. He had sounded so insecure and lost, it physically hurt the tall man. Had Benn permanently damaged what had been between them? He was unable to find the answer as Shanks had turned away from him. He had shut him out as it was his right, and Benn had to accept the dismissal. Getting to his feet, he crossed the distance to the door, opening it. Before he went out, though, he looked back at Shanks who still stood in the same spot, hair covering his face. Yet he couldn’t hide the tears that silently fell on his clothes.

Feeling the need to say something to make Shanks better but unable to apologize, Benn fled. Guilt drove him and as soon as he had shut the door, his feet started to move until he ran in an attempt  to get away from a whirlwind of feelings he couldn’t quite place.

Chapter Text

Patter of feet echoed loudly through the stone hallways that lead Benn farther and farther away. Not one single thought was spent on the direction he ran in, instead whole sentences, single words and emotions swirled in his head. None of it made sense. Shanks had had the opportunity to take him, claim him, rape him, and yet he hadn’t. The friendliness left Benn feeling guilty, as he was unable to erase the picture of the falling tears on a face hidden behind a veil of red strands. It was his fault. His fault alone had left Shanks crying. The person who owned him. For the first time in his life Benn cared about someone, and he realized that caring was something he couldn’t handle. It hurt. It hurt so much.

It was late, and the setting sun bathed everything it touched in a golden shimmer. Rays of light flooded the hallways in an interplay of shadow and light, a scenery so beautiful only nature could create it, yet Benn wasn’t seeing any of it.

He had slowed down from his running to a fast stride after several people had watched him in irritation when he had rushed past them. It was too early to retreat to one’s rooms, and most people were enjoying the last rays of daylight after another day filled with work. The only thing Benn was glad for was that he had had the farsightedness to cover his necklace properly again, before he had run into anyone.

Through wide panes of glass, he saw the gardens, oasis-like in a world that was shaped by the dryness of the warm weather. Splashes of red, yellow and pink attracted the attention of the observer, and all the colors were embedded in a fresh green that invited for a walk. He hadn’t sought it out willingly, but after some more time of mindlessly walking through high halls that looked similarly confining for no other reason than that there were walls left and right, Benn stepped out into the open space of the backyard.

Suddenly scents hit his nostrils, the sweet flavors of the flowers that entwined the red pillars of the canopy, mixing with the fresh ones of basil and thyme. A quick glance showed him he was close to the gym, and therefore still too close to people. Handling company, or even the presence of someone else seemed unbearable, so Benn choose the direction that would lead him deeper into the gardens and away from the - at least around this time of the day - well frequented area of the gym. When he realized no one else was around, he slowed down, taking in his surroundings.

The tall man had never been one to give much thought to the many names plants could hold, so he only knew the most common ones. He may have remembered a lot more, had he ever made the effort to look them up, but his interest had lain in other things. Medicine, the geography of the common land, the secrets of building the perfect bow and the many, many stories that spoke of creatures and far-away places he would probably never see in all his life. Still, he recognized many flowers that grew here, yet many more were unknown to him. Stopping at a hibiscus bush with big pink and orange flowers, he carefully brushed his fingertips over one of the big petals. Not a soul seemed to be close, only the songs of the birds and the far away noises of frogs probably coming from some pond rang out in the quiet of the evening.

When he let his gaze wander around aimlessly, big palm trees that grew straight up into the sky caught his eye, dozens and dozens, hanging full of dates that weren’t ripe yet. The red sunlight still shimmered through the leaves, but soon the remaining light would make way for the night sky and its stars. No matter it wasn’t bright anymore, Benn guessed the place would make a good spot for escaping the sun even in the hot midday hours, and a hammock proved someone else had had this thought, too. The place was surrounded by various herbs, some of which Benn remembered Roo used in the kitchen. Basil, Thyme, Oregano he knew, but there were others he couldn’t place a name on. Was the chef aware of all the different herbs that grew in this place in abundance? Benn decided to ask tomorrow, when he was back at work.

“Go to bed, Benn. You’ll have to get up early for work tomorrow.”

For a moment, he had been able to forget, his thoughts having been sidetracked by the beauty surrounding him. Yet, as his mind drifted back to what Shanks had said, the despair rushed back mercilessly. Ignoring the hammock that looked so invitingly comfortable, he sat down on the sunbaked ground. Leaning against the trunk of a palm tree, he felt the rough texture of the fibrous bark through the light fabric of his button-up shirt. He had meant to never wear these clothes in his everyday life, planning for them to become his workwear. Now his state belied his plans and with shaking fingers, he closed the three buttons he had undone earlier.

“I won’t touch you.”

And he hadn’t. It hit him like a slap in the face, that indeed Shanks had kept his word since the moment they had met in the auction house. No matter he had not yet spoken that sentence back then. But the Yonko had stuck to it from the beginning, and Benn realized that in the whole time he was in Shanks’ possession, the redhead had not lain a single finger on him. How could he have believed he would do it now?

Tears welled up, wet his lashes and collected in the corners of his eyes until salty pearls rolled down his cheeks silently. The muffled sobs were only bearable because Benn knew he was alone. Pulling his knees to his chest he buried his face in them, the knowledge that things had suddenly changed making his whole frame shudder. For a long time, he had been resigned to being a slave and therefore not feel anything. Whenever he had been bought, used and sold again, his inner walls had held his emotions in a secure cell, numbing him so that he could endure all that was done to his body. Shanks however had not done anything to him, hadn´t used him in any way but instead shaken the walls that had always kept his mind safe. He felt like they were crumbling brick by brick, and Benn was afraid of the moment when they would fail entirely and he would be vulnerable, his self at the mercy of his owner – who had so far only shown him kindness.

“You’re no slave anymore.”

Believing these words wasn’t easy, but for a split second Benn wanted to try. Slender fingers slipped under the red silky fabric of the scarf to touch the metal that bound him to the man, trying to imagine it wasn’t there. But it was, and it made accepting Shanks’ words impossible. If Benn was no salve, yet not a free man either, what was he then? Nothing. Absolutely nothing, and he knew that living in a body of flesh and blood but without a soul was nothing he could do. Dragging his hands back to look at the open palms, he forced his tears to dry up. If Shanks wanted to make him believe he was no slave, he would have to prove it. But Benn wouldn’t care. To care would cost him his sanity. And yet he knew that he already did.

A feeling of loneliness had entered the room and left Shanks unable to move, even minutes after Benn had fled. In his mind's eye, he could still see the man standing before him, the shock, the utter disbelief of what he had heard and the guilt plain in his features. Shanks had sensed the guilt that had shown after his dismissal but he hadn’t been able to face it. Not Benn should feel guilty, when it had been him who had left the man in a state of uncertainty, telling him he was free time and time again yet unable to prove it by taking off the necklace. Benn had stated the obvious so simply - that he was a slave - and Shanks felt wretched for not being able to change it.

Minutes passed but the redhead wasn’t keeping track of time. His back was bent as his hair covered his face and gave room for the tears. Why it bothered him so much was beyond him, he just knew he wanted to see this beautiful face smiling. Truthfully. At least once. But nothing seemed farther away than that.

Dragging himself up from his bed, Shanks closed the small distance to his desk, which was placed under the window. He rounded it and pushed himself up onto the table top, then seated himself on the windowsill. The ease of his movements and pose showed he wasn’t doing it the first time. One foot was propped up, while the other was stretched out. Brown eyes darted over the atrium which he could see from his high perch. Children played in the fountain, cooling off by splashing in the water. He remembered he had done that himself when he had been younger. Sometimes with Buggy, a worker’s boy. They had fought, laughed and fought again. Now Shanks had no idea where the other was. Or if he was still alive. Strangely enough it didn’t even bother him. The boy was just a memory. One memory of many.

Red stone shimmered in the sinking sun and the numerous terracotta pots placed on walls and windowsills were overflowing with flowers while tendrils found their way up the building. Laughter sounded from down below. Shanks was sure it was the same they had heard before. When Benn had still been with him in the room… why did he feel so lonely without his presence around? He didn´t even really know him.

Shaking his head, Shanks knew he wouldn’t find sleep tonight, and drinking another bottle of booze wasn’t on his mind. Shakky had looked concerned enough when he had come down the steps into the bar the other day, and the memory of her worried expression was what kept him from considering the possibility. She had served alcohol long enough to know what it did to people, and Shanks had sworn to her to never be one of those who lost themselves in the poison. He drank, yes he did, but he wasn’t intoxicating himself. At least not constantly. If he wanted to sleep, he would need to find another way.

Looking around his room which gave the impression like something had exploded in there, his gaze got caught on his sword that leaned casually against the wall. Some clothes lay just inches from it on the ground, white shirts, brown trousers and a sash. He should clean again, getting rid of the mess. When had been the last time he had picked up all his clothes to give them to the laundry, dusted off his shelves and changed the bed linen? Probably the last time his underwear had run out…

Putting the task on his imaginary to-do-list, Shanks jumped down from his sitting place and reached for his sword. The cleaning had to wait until tomorrow, it wouldn’t work out now anyway. Reaching for the hilt, he pulled the sword out of its sheath to look at the shimmering steel. Small, almost invisible engravings were carved in the blade, in a language people had long forgotten. It was the same one that graced the armlet around his upper arm. Poneglyph. Signs that held power. Or so he had been told.

Roger had given him the sword shortly before he had been executed. It had been way too big back then, but the old High King had known that his protégé would grow into it. Always fond of swords and the fighting style, Shanks had accepted it with honor, and he absorbed what Roger said when he handed it to him.

“This sword will protect you.”

Those had been Roger’s words and he had been right. Yet, just protecting himself wasn’t enough for Shanks. There were so many people other than himself he wanted to see happy and safe. His friends – Yasopp, Roo, Doc – his family – Shakky and Rayleigh. The people of his court, every slave he had freed and every person that lived under his rule. Benn. Especially Benn. Even though he didn’t know why.

But he felt sure of one thing. If he wanted to be the power that protected them so they could live a happy life, he would need to become the best he could be. The way there was probably not an easy one, with a lot of stumbling, falling and getting up again. But for his people he would work on himself every day to become better than he was the day before. To always be able to protect, more than just himself.

When he left the room and the door clicked behind his back, he hoped the exhaustion resulting from hard training would help him sleep as well.

The sun had already set behind the horizon and only a shimmer was enlightening the scenery before him. It wasn’t night, yet it wasn’t day anymore. Hours had passed while Benn had just sat under the palm tree, felt the scratchy bark at his back while he banned any thought that wanted to appear on his mind. It had worked for the most parts, yet not completely, but the more time passed, the more his focus shifted from the turmoil in his mind to his six senses.

Different flowers and animals had demanded his attention, the scent of hibiscus had vanished as the blossoms had closed and a heavier scent of jasmine hung in the air. Bats flew above his head, sometimes even birds he couldn’t quite place. His eyes had gotten used to the dim light, yet the colors seemed softer and a slate blue was the dominant hue. Benn knew he should sleep, but he feared the swirling thoughts would come back the moment he lay in bed. It was irrational, why should he think more about what had happened today there then here in the garden? But he knew the answer. Because Shanks would be in the room next to him, his presence too close and the urge too big to tell him he was sorry.

Forcing the image of red hair covering a tear-streaked face out of his mind, Benn shook his head and pressed his hands on the grass. Suddenly his sight faded and darkness surrounded him, stars appeared before his eyes and he blindly felt for the footing of the tree. He had been sitting here for too long and his circulation did him justice now. Taking a deep breath, the feeling of faintness wore off, his sight became clear again and only pangs of hunger stayed. He hadn’t eaten enough and he wondered if Roo still had some leftovers in the kitchen. It was worth a try before he went to bed.

Soil stuck to his palms and he dusted them off on his pants, then he made his way back. As he had mostly just walked straight, it was easy to find the right path. Benn’s good sense of orientation helped, too.

His feet had just stepped over one of the many small streams that connected the ponds and kept the gardens green, when he heard faint crying. It sounded like a child, a girl probably, and her sobbing was heart-breaking. Changing directions, Benn followed the sound until he spotted a figure in the distance, standing alone in the middle of a clearing and looking utterly lost.

The small girl wore a blue striped summer dress, her brown hair was bound together in two pigtails and her cheeks were blotchy from all the shed tears. Small fists had gripped the fabric of the dress and she wasn’t moving, as if she found it useless to walk. The sight nearly broke Benn’s heart and he wondered where her parents were - or if she even had parents anymore - when he realized he knew her. She had been bought by Shanks on the same day he was. On the Red Force she had been a constant sunshine, always smiling and running around. If Benn remembered correctly, Shanks had also bought her parents. It seemed like they had decided to stay.

So far, the girl hadn’t seen him, and not wanting to frighten her by suddenly showing up in front of her, Benn decided to start humming. The only song that came to mind in the spur of the moment was an old lullaby, and a wave of sadness rushed through him. The melody was stuck in his mind, a very old memory connected to a blurry face. His mother had sung it to him almost every night. Benn remembered the words. He didn’t remember his mother’s face.

For a moment he debated with himself, then another sob reached his ears and broke his resistance. Soft hums, an almost sad melody, left his lips as he walked closer, and slowly the sobs died down. Benn could see how the girl’s head lifted, her fists released the dress and she just looked at him. When Benn was sure she wouldn’t get startled, he stopped the humming, and blinked and smiled as if he had just seen her. By now, he wasn’t far away anymore and the last few steps were crossed effortlessly. Thinking about it, Benn realized he didn’t know her name.

Kneeling to be on a par with her, Benn looked at the girl gently. “Hello sweetheart. Do you want to tell me why you’re crying?”

A short glimmer of uncertainty washed over her face and she stepped back slightly. Looking at the ground, her hands found her dress again, but now they were rather fumbling with the fabric than gripping it. How old was she? Probably around three, maybe a little older.

“Daddy said not to talk to strangers,” she mumbled and Benn smiled, sitting down as the position became uncomfortable after a while. The earth was still warm from the day and the grass was dry.

“You have a smart Daddy. He’s right, but I’m no stranger. I’m Benn,” he said and wondered why in the common land this should make him into someone reliable. Sure, he just wanted to help her, but actually he was still nothing more than a stranger. So he added, “I work in the kitchen. You have been eating breakfast today?”

She nodded, looking up at him again, her eyes rather curious now. Some small tears still clung to her eyelashes, but she looked better than just moments before. Not so lost anymore.

“Have you eaten from the scrambled eggs? I helped making them.”

Again she nodded, and then found the courage to speak. Her voice was a little shaky, but Benn didn’t mind. “So you’re not a stranger?”

A little chuckle left his lips and he shook his head. It was as if she wanted to have permission that she could talk to him, without acting against her father’s words. What a smart girl she was. Her parents sure must be lucky to have her. “Not anymore. What’s your name?”

“Rika,” she answered and Benn nodded, tilted his head and answered cockily, “Hello, Rika. I’m Benn.”

His reply made her chuckle and she came even closer to look at him. Tentative fingers brushed at a strand of his loose hair and she giggled. “They’re soft.” Before Benn could reply, the deep call of an owl sounded. Jumping, Rika pressed herself against him, tears welling up again.

“Sshh,” Benn tried to sooth her, his arms wrapping around her small frame. Stroking her back up and down, he started to hum again, the same lullaby that had helped him sleep when he had been Rika’s age. When she stopped shivering, Benn stopped humming, too, and gave her space to move. She looked up with big, round eyes and he said, “It was just an owl. Do you know what an owl is?” She shook her head, so Benn added, “It’s a bird. It sleeps during the day and is awake in the night. It’s probably looking for breakfast.”

The words seemed to intrigue the girl, because her eyes became less big and then she looked up in the sky. “Breakfast? Like screm… scram…bl’d eggs?” It made Benn chuckle again and he pushed himself up into a standing position.

“No, I don’t think owls like scrambled eggs. More for you,” he said with a grin, though he knew the girl would probably not understand the little joke. Then he regarded Rika, who still looked into the darkened sky as if she expected to see an owl sitting in a tree with a bowl of scrambled eggs before it. “You have been lost, haven’t you?”

His voice distracted her from her search and when she looked up to him, she nodded. She really had to bend her head and it reminded Benn of his enormous height. Even for a man he was tall.

“I wanted to see the birdies. Daddy said he would go with me, but he didn’t,” she said and her voice reminded of her former sobbing, though she wasn’t starting up yet again. Her hand had clutched her dress once more and she looked rather guilty - probably because she hadn’t been allowed to go on her own. Benn wondered what birds she meant. Where there cages somewhere?

“So you decided to go on your own, hm? Come on, let’s go find your parents and get you to bed. It’s late and I’m sure your mom and dad are worried.” With these words, Benn bent down, lifted her up by placing his hands under her armpits, and to put her on his shoulders. A squeak sounded through the night but it swiftly changed into happy laughter.

“Tall!”

The canopy that was the entrance to the garden and connected the gyms to the main buildings was farther away than Benn had assumed, and by the time they reached it, it was already completely dark. Moths flitted around the lanterns that hung from the pillars showing the way. The steadiness of the flames in spite of a light breeze showed that they were enclosed in magic, probably to hinder a fire from breaking out should they in any case fall down or get in reach of something burnable.

Rika, who sat on his shoulders, had babbled constantly, telling him about the birds she had wanted to see, and by now Benn had a good idea of how the idea had struck her. Today had been her first day in school, and they had visited the cages with their biology teacher. She had been fascinated by all the colors of the animals she had never seen before in her life, and had wanted to show them to her father. The man however, he was called Kai, hadn’t had time, so in an attempt of childish stubbornness she had gone on her own and got lost in the gardens. First, Rika hadn’t had given it much attention, or so Benn believed, but when the sun set she had become scared… and then Benn had found her.

Benn stepped under one of the many arches. Next to it was a bush that bore hundreds of pink blossoms with white stamen that looked like they were little flowers themselves inside the pink one. Looking from left to right, he wondered where Rika and her parents had their room. Only now he realized that the girl had become rather quiet, and when a yawn sounded from above his head, he realized why. She was probably dead tired. Actually, he should be too.

“Hey sweetheart,” he said quietly but loud enough so that she had to hear him. He even shrugged his shoulder to get her attention, and after a moment small hands patted his head and her legs thumped his chest. She sighed wearily. “Don’t doze off, okay?”

With those words, he picked one of the pink blossoms from the bush - he now recognized them as Bougainvillea - and held it up for Rika to see. “Will you hold on tight to it for me? Don’t lose it, okay?” he said and he felt her shift a little to take the blossom from him. Small hands brushed his and made Benn smile. At least now she had something to concentrate on, which hopefully would help her stay awake. Neither did he have any idea how her parents looked, nor where to search for them. He needed a little help from her, which was only possible when she was awake.

“Benn?” her voice sunk down to him and he replied with a short yes to tell her to go on speaking. Meanwhile he had started walking again, into the building, down the hall he had passed hours ago. Intrigued, he realized that the moment he stepped in, flickering flames awoke in lanterns that hung from the high ceiling, enlightening the hallway. Magic was such a practical thing sometimes, and whoever had spoken those words had used them wisely. “I want Mommy and Daddy.”

“I know, but I don’t know where they are. Do you know where your room is?” he answered her, but already guessed the answer. Rika was too young to consciously keep track of directions, and she had only been here for two days. It would be a miracle if she even recognized the right door.

Muffled sobbing sounded from above and Benn closed his eyes, telling himself that her crying was due to her tiredness, as well as the fear of being lost. What was going through the head of someone her age who had just changed places and then got separated from the parents? Benn was glad he had found her. “Don’t cry, little one, we’ll find them,” he said and wondered who would know where her parents had been accommodated? Shanks… probably.

They reached a junction, and Benn was suddenly glad of the tour Roo had given him the other day. With his sense of orientation, he had a rough map he could follow inside his head, even though he knew there were quite a lot of parts of the palace he wasn’t even aware of. Deciding he had no choice, he headed for the right hallway, relatively sure it was a fast way to his and therefore also Shanks’ quarters. He would have asked Roo instead of the Yonko, but he had no idea where the chef’s rooms were. He didn’t look forward to seeing the redhead so soon again… but Rika was more important than his own irritating emotions. Suddenly his heart ached.

Lost in his thoughts, Benn only realized the sobbing had stopped when he felt the body on his shoulders slump forward and the blossom he had given Rika fell onto his scarf. The girl had fallen asleep. Stopping in his tracks, Benn reached up and carefully lifted her down to settle her in his arms. He feared she would fall down otherwise, so he rather carried her like this. Her eyes cracked open again, she plucked for the pink on his red scarf, clutched the flower and buried her face in his chest. A soft smile tugged on Benn’s lips and he wondered how the girl had started to trust him so easily.

Orange light illuminated the hallway, magic making the stone walls look softer, but it was still bright enough to see without strain. The red stone out of which the whole palace was built intensified the feeling of walking through fire that was brought to life. It would probably take him another ten minutes to reach Shanks. The palace sure was huge.

His footsteps were the only sound around him, and Benn wondered how late it was. Probably sometime close to midnight. Most people were probably asleep by now. Then he heard voices coming from farther down the hallway. They sounded strained.

“Calm down, Ririka. We’ll find her.” It was a male voice, not really low-pitched, more of a soft tenor and yet firm and encouraging.

“But what if something happened to her?” This one belonged to a female. Tear-struck, pained, drained. There was fear in the voice, it even wavered.

It seemed Benn had found Rika’s parents and his sigh was followed by a soft smile. They would be glad to hold their daughter in their arms again.

“Don’t worry, Miss. As long as she’s in the palace, nothing will happen to her. These walls watch their children.”

A shudder went down Benn’s spine when he recognized Shanks’ voice, so firm with his words that he could have said the sky is red and Benn would have believed it. Yet they were gentle and soothing, a sweet caress to a broken soul and it left him wonder how this man did it? Only on second thought he started to wonder about the meaning of the words. These walls watch their children… what did it mean?

For a moment Benn had forgotten to go on, his heart beating fast, so fast and loud he wondered why the others weren’t hearing it. The image of red hair covering a crying face came back into his mind, letting the guilt surface again. Biting his lips, Benn wished Shanks weren’t with Rika’s parents, but then he looked down. Sleeping peacefully in his arms, the girl looked like a goddess’s child. Without the conversation, the guilt, the painful emotions, he wouldn’t have found her. These walls watch their children… it left Benn wonder if this was what Shanks had meant.

Sighing, Benn pushed all the questions and confusing emotions aside. He walked down the hallway and rounded the corner. In front of him stood Shanks, wearing a simple white shirt, his hair slightly wet. It were different clothes than before. Had he showered? Then Benn recognized the sword hanging at his hip. It distracted him enough that he only noticed the other two people when a soft cry of joy reached his ears.

“Rika!”

While the girl shifted in his arms, Benn looked from Shanks, who seemed honestly surprised, to the woman. Ririka, Rika’s mother. She had similar brown hair and her daughter’s eyes - or well, Rika had her eyes – which now sparkled with joy, and her skirt fluttered against her legs when she stepped to Benn, arms outstretched, to take and hug her child.

“Rika,” she said again, relieved, voice a melodious sob, tears rolling down her cheeks. She was a beautiful woman, not in a direct way, but more naturally, hidden like a flower behind leaves. “Thank you, sir, thank you, thank you, thank you very much!”

“Mommy?” Rika mumbled, waking up from the sound of her mother’s voice. With drowsy eyes, she looked from her mother to her father, who had stepped closer looking as equally relieved as his wife, and then back to Benn. Smiling at her he wanted to tell her to go to sleep again, but then the girl looked at her hands. They were empty.

“Gone,” she said, her voice a little whiney. Her father, a man with broad shoulders that however didn’t really suit him, shut his mouth. It seemed as if he had wanted to say something, yet was irritated by his daughter’s comment. When Benn saw the pink blossom lying on the ground, he understood. Picking it up, he gave it back to the girl, who took it with an expression that almost seemed proud. “Didn’t lose it,” she mumbled, holding the flower close and snuggling closer to her mother, before she fell asleep again.

Taking a step back from the little family and shrugging his shoulders, Benn explained, “I gave it to her to keep it save for me so she wouldn’t sleep off. Seemed she took my words quite serious.”

For a moment there was silence, then Rika’s father stepped forward. There was genuine thankfulness shining in his green eyes. “Thank you very much for finding our daughter! We owe you something, Mister…”

“Benn,” he answered and shook his head. “You don’t owe me anything. Anyone would have done the same.”

He believed it was true, and yet a little voice in his head whispered that even if, what kind of slave had ever gotten something in return? The idea alone was ridiculous and what should he wish for anyway? Receiving kindness or even gifts was nothing Benn knew how to do. Was it even allowed? His gaze flickered to Shanks, who stood quietly and watched. A sad smile graced his face, but it was hard to guess what he really thought. However, when their eyes met something changed in the redhead’s face, and for a moment Benn believed he had formed a silent thank you, as if it had been Shanks’ own child.

They had escorted Rika and her parents to their door, talking in quiet voices so as not to startle the girl awake again. With few words Benn had told them how he had found the girl crying in the gardens, how he had talked to her, and he had smirked apologetically when he admitted the little trick he had used to make the girl believe he was no stranger. In regard to the outcome no one had blamed Benn. All the while Shanks had stayed irritatingly quiet, yet only Benn realized the silence of his master and tried hard not to think about it.

When the good-nights had been said and the door behind Rika, Ririka and Kai had been closed, Benn was suddenly faced with the fact that he was alone with Shanks again. He couldn’t even excuse himself because of some task. It was in the middle of the night, midnight obviously long over, and their rooms were next to each other. Even the kitchen, where Benn still wanted to go, was roughly in the same direction.

Closing his eyes and giving in to the exhaustion that seemed to engulf him, he forced himself to turn to the redhead. When he opened his lids again, he saw too many expressions on the other’s face to place any of them. It was as effective a way to hide your feelings as not to show any of them. For a moment, the two men just looked at each other until Shanks nodded into the hallway and sighed. “We should go to bed.”

“We probably should,” Benn mumbled and realized that even though nothing of his guilt had vanished, it didn’t hinder him from forming normal sentences. If he wanted to make up for the tears, he had to speak to Shanks… because what else could he do? He was still a slave, unable to leave as the necklace kept him close to Shanks. He had never considered stealing the ring. The magic in it ensured that such actions led to immediate death, and Benn wasn’t willing to die yet. Also… he wanted to not make Shanks cry again. His heart clenched at the thought.

For a while it was quiet and only their steps echoed through the empty hallways. Whenever they changed from one corridor to another, light flickered awake just as it had happened before. A small part in Benn wanted to ask about the magic, but the bigger part in him kept him unable to say a word. The fear that he would blurt out something about their former meeting was like a tight knot in his chest. Usually he was in control of his tongue, and light chatting had often been part of his role as a slave. He would have liked to excuse his silence with the late hour or the tiring day, but all his exhausted mind could think of were Shanks’ words from earlier. He wasn’t a slave anymore. Why was it always coming back? And why was the necklace still intact, when a huge part of him desperately wanted but couldn’t believe in those words?

Biting his lips, Benn glanced at the man next to him. The red hair hung damp at the temples of the Yonko, his white shirt seemed clean and fresh, and was revealing just a little of his chest. The sword seemed expensive, even though Benn could only go by the handle. Did Shanks know how to fight? Had he ever had to do it? Benn’s thoughts didn’t want to stop and no matter how hard he tried, it wasn’t working. The silence between them didn’t make it any better. To fill the silence and his head with something, he started to hum again, the lullaby from earlier quietly leaving his mouth.

For a moment, Benn had the feeling Shanks was stiffening next to him, but then he strode on with the same pace as he had before. Just out of the corner of his eye Benn realized Shanks was forming silent words. Words he knew by heart, even though he should have long forgotten. Words his mother had sung to him in his younger years.

Sleep my child, dream away
while the ocean’s calm today
Hear the waves, as they sing
a song of darkness they will bring
to your heart, as you sleep
believe tomorrow the sun will keep
shining bright as you wake
death has come and forgot to take…

For the first time Benn realized the sadness and darkness of the lullaby. There was nothing peaceful about it, but a hidden threat. It also hit him that it was about the sea. A place too far away to reach. Why had his mother sung to him about something she couldn’t have known herself… how should she ever have been to the see? And why did Shanks seem to know the words so effortlessly that he could mumble them silently? Benn was still lost in his questions when they reached Shanks and his quarters. His humming died down, but the questions stayed and when Shanks turned to him to wish him a good-night, Benn was shocked to see the sadness radiating off of those brown eyes.

Chapter Text

„Beeeeennn!“

The long-drawn-out word was loud enough to sound through the thick walls that separated the kitchen from the dining hall. Immediately the whole staff began to smile and some of them almost grinned while the called man wasn’t sure whether he should roll his eyes or join the rest and smile, too. Drying his hands at a cloth he turned to the door that was pushed open some moments later as a small figure pressed herself between the door and the frame. Brown, curious eyes searched the room until they settled on him.

“Benn,” Rika exclaimed again, smiling and brightening up the kitchen with her cheerfulness. Thankfully for everyone, the busiest part of the breakfast preparations was over, just in time for when most people would come down to eat before going to work - or in Rika’s case, going to school. It usually started at eight in the morning, so Benn was pretty sure it was somewhat around seven. By now it was easy to keep track of the time while being in the kitchen, since many people came down for their meals at the same times of the day. Just like Rika and her parents.

“My flower is broken, and Mommy says I have to throw it away,” Rika went on before Benn could greet the girl. She held something clutched in her hand. For a moment the man wondered what it was, but when he saw something pink shining between her small fingers, he had a rough idea. Blinking in irritation he wondered why the blossom hadn’t withered long ago. Already a week had passed since he had found Rika in the gardens and had given her the Bougainvillea.

“Attention, small lady.”

Before Benn could answer, Rika was softly but firmly pushed out of the way, as Roo’s assistant carried a bowl full of fruits out into the hall. She had recovered from her illness some days ago, which made work a little less stressful for Benn, but there wasn’t much space to maneuver. Obediently the girl stepped aside. By now she knew that she had to stay out of the staffs’ way to be allowed into the kitchen.

Ririka and Kai had made her come there on the day after the encounter to thank Benn for helping her. She had nearly missed him, as Roo had shooed him away to catch some sleep after only an hour of working. That night, he’d only had three hours of sleep, and it had been his hunger rather than any obligation that had dragged Benn out of bed. When the chef had found out about the lack of sleep, no denying and arguing had helped Benn, and actually he had been thankful for a little break. When he had walked out of the kitchen, Rika had stepped in, one hand in her mother’s, looking shy. The expression had changed to cheerfulness when Benn proved he was still kind and not an adult who would scold her for her mistakes.

Since that day, the girl had come into the kitchen every morning, greeting the rest and then demanding Benn’s attention. It was probably her father’s doing that she picked the time when the kitchen staff was taking a small break for a cup of coffee and breakfast themselves. In easy words and a clam voice, Benn answered every question she had - and she had many - or just listened to her rambling on about what she had experienced the other day. Kai and Ririka sometimes sat beside him, and somehow, they had become friends. Or at least this was what Benn would call them, as he wasn’t too sure how a friendship worked. You didn’t have friends when you were a pleasure slave who had to change places every few months.

However, the two were good company and even though they had never pried about Benn’s past, he had found out a little about theirs. The family had lived close to the Calm Belt, a huge salt dessert. No one had ever managed to cross it, yet rumors said the former high king had tried. It was questionable if it was true, and even more questionable if he had succeeded. For Benn, however, it was more interesting though also concerning to hear that the Clam Belt was growing.

Kai had told him it was the growth of the salt dessert that had driven them into slavery. Food and water had become less and less, and many had left their village – Kiramura – to seek their luck elsewhere. The little family though had stayed until slave hunters had attacked the village. Too few people were left to fight back, and afraid for his wife and child, Kai had made a bargain to surrender without a fight in exchange for the promise that he would be sold together with his whole family. The deal had been sealed by magic.

They had had the luck to be sold to a rather nice elderly couple who had fallen in love with Rika. Kai had built a bathhouse, Ririka had been responsible for the household, and Rika had been able to wander around more or less freely. Even though they had been slaves, it had been a good life. However, when business crashed for their owners, they had found themselves standing in the auction house again. Kai had confessed to Benn he had never been more scared in his life than when he heard a Yonko was to come. The possibility of being forcibly separated from his family had been great. Yet it had been Shanks who had bought and freed them, and Benn had been able to see in the man’s eyes how thankful he had been and still was for it. Honestly, Benn could understand. Somehow.

Being lost in thought for a split moment, Benn was dragged back when he heard an energetic voice asking a question. His stormy eyes darted to the owner and smiled at what he saw.

“Fix it?” Rika asked again and held up her hand, a crumbled and withered blossom in her palm. For a short moment Benn had thought magic had been involved, but now that he saw the Bougainvillea, he knew it wasn’t true. A petal was missing, probably broken off by Rika holding it in her fist, and the edges were brown.

“I’m not sure…,” Benn said. It was not impossible to revive the flower, but it would demand a huge amount of magic, and as always when casting a spell on a living thing, it would cost a price.

“But…”

Rika’s face fell, sadness gracing her usually smiling face. With all the questions she had been able to ask Benn who mostly knew an answer, she had probably assumed he was able to bring the blossom to bloom again.

“I can try. But I can’t promise you it will work,” came out of Benn’s mouth before he had really made up his mind what to do. It was true, he could try, but he doubted he was strong enough. It would cost him some minutes of his lifespan, but that was the least thing that bothered him. A second more or less in the life of a slave didn’t matter anyway. What he feared more was raising Rika’s hopes and then failing her. She looked at him expectantly, her brown eyes beaming at the words, and Benn wished he had tried it before mentioning anything. She didn’t really understand that there was a high possibility it would not go as planned.

“Whatever you do, do it outside,” a voice suddenly chuckled and Benn turned to find Roo grinning at him and pointing at the door. Benn was dismissed for the time being. Before he could step out of the door into the dining hall, though, the cook shoved a box in his hand. “And make your lady a cup of hot chocolate.” It was cacao.

Outside, Benn stepped to the large buffet tables, and following Roo’s orders, filled a cup with the powder and heated milk. As he got himself coffee and something to eat, he heard a proud voice claim, “Mommy, Daddy, Benn is fixing my flower.”

Some chuckles filled the hall, and Benn felt several pairs of eyes on him. Strangely enough, it didn’t bother him. He would have loved to keep the story about him finding Rika in the gardens a secret, but the small sunshine was fast to tell everyone about how Benn had rescued her. It was far from a rescue but the little exaggeration didn’t seem to bother the people. By now the whole palace knew, and Benn had to face the fact that people under Shanks’ care seemed to value people who helped little children. From his point of view, the attention wasn’t required, but when Benn realized no one was asking about his past or his status, he submitted to it. As if he could stop the gossiping anyway.

Looking around the large hall, Benn recognized a lot of people who came here every day. Only a few names were known to him. Kai had introduced him to his colleagues from the school, some of them eating their meals together with the other man. Ririka had found some friends to chat with, and at a table further away, he saw Yasopp talking with Shanks. For a moment Benn’s heart clenched. He hadn’t spoken to the redhead since that evening.

Forcing himself to look away, Benn focused on Rika and her parents again, who seemed to be having an argument with their daughter. He went over to them and placed his tray on the table. When he put the hot chocolate in front of the girl, Ririka looked up to him.

“Benn, Rika says you’re going to resurrect her flower. Please tell her it’s not possible, as she’s apparently not believing me anymore,” the woman demanded, her arms crossed in front of her chest, an annoyed expression on her face. Kai simply sighed.

“Darling, in fact it is possible, yet I doubt anyone in this room is strong enough to do so,” he corrected his wife. Benn noticed how Kai’s green eyes darted around, just as his had done a moment ago. They rested on a certain redhead, before they settled on Ririka again. Then he added, “Well, maybe except Shanks.”

“So we’re at the starting point again, as we’re not going to bother our Yonko to resurrect a blossom for us. We can pick anothe-“ Ririka was interrupted in her firm speech by her daughter who almost shouted.

“No. Benn fix it.”

“Fixes it, Rika. With an s, and your mother is right,” Kai corrected her almost automatically and then looked at Benn who had listened to the banter silently. He knew a strong spell was needed to resurrect a flower, and he wasn’t really sure whether he would be able to do it, yet he deemed it possible that he could accomplish it. Would he make a fool out of himself for trying?

Shrugging his shoulders to ease some tension, Benn reached for his cup and took a sip, clearing his mind before he placed the coffee back down and spoke. “I said I would try. All that could happen is that it’s not working, isn’t it? No harm done.”

“Well technically yes, but…,” Kai wanted to say something more, but trailed off when Benn picked the withered flower out of Rika’s hands. At the first moment it was just a flower, not even lovely anymore, separated from its source of life and therefore left to die. Then, when Benn closed his eyes and concentrated, he felt the last bits of energy that still held the blossom together in the most part. Imagining how it had looked when he had plucked it from the bush, he channeled the picture from his mind through his hand into the weakly pulsing heart of the blossom. His mouth opened to speak some words, but before he could utter the first syllable, it felt as if his airways got closed off, right where the necklace circled his throat. Wanting to cry of frustration, because the chain wasn’t even allowing him to make the child happy who was so dear to him by now, he forced the flow of magic harder. The impulse to rip the metal hidden behind his scarf off his skin was overwhelming, but he suppressed it. Right before Benn wanted to give up defeated, something in him snapped as if a  knot had been loosened.

“Come to life,” he muttered silently, each word carrying his magic, while so many more were left unspoken – there was no need to say them aloud. Something in the air shifted, so subtle Benn knew a large part of the people in the hall didn’t even notice a spell was being cast. Yet Benn felt a tingle on his skin and his heart was beating faster, as it always did when he used his magic. It was such a huge relief to know his determination had been stronger than a stupid piece of jewelry, that it didn’t even cross his mind that his spell could have failed. Yet, when a gasp reached his ear, he knew the Bougainvillea blossom was back in its fully beauty.

“Impossible.”

The voice belonged to Ririka and made Benn open his eyes again. A smile lit up his face, when he saw the perfect pink flower in his hand. Ignoring the shocked expressions, he gave the blossom to Rika, who shouted out with joy. Her small hands held the gift like a trophy. “See mommy, daddy, Benn fixs it.”

“Fixed it, Rika… fixed it,” Kai said sounding incredulous, but then he shook his head and looked at Benn. It was clear as day that he tried to suppress the shock of seeing the flower in full bloom again. “I guess we have to thank you once again.”

“There is nothing to thank me for,” Benn answered. Somehow it didn’t sit well with him that people he already considered his friends looked at him with awe.  After all, he was a slave, not someone to look up to. He was glad when Roo showed up in the kitchen door to call him back to work. Any further reply had died on his tongue.

He had not closed the door behind him completely, when Kai’s voice reached his ear faintly. The man probably believed Benn was too far away to hear him, which was why he talked so openly. How the words made it to his ears over the chatting was beyond Benn, too.

“I wonder why a man who can resurrect a flower into eternity is working as a cook’s assistant,” reached Benn and he gulped. He had not wanted the flower to bloom into eternity. He had not even thought of it. All he had wanted to do was make Rika happy.

“Eternity?” Ririka asked, and again Benn heard it clearly. Too clearly with all the noise. It felt like the voices had been magically amplified for his ears only. Turning around, his eyes found the two still sitting in the same spot, only Rika had wandered off to some friends she knew from school. At least she wasn’t hearing it.

“I can be wrong. I mean…”

But Benn didn’t want to know what Kai meant. He didn’t want to hear people talk about him like this, looking at him in awe, indicating he was more than his status allowed. All he wanted was the two of them to be his friends, yet he felt like not even that was granted him. No one needed to tell him he was an outsider, different… strange. He knew that himself. The cold metal always reminded him, no matter it was hidden underneath the red fabric. When he shut the door, he also shut the voices out, suppressing the tears when he looked at Roo who had waited for him. There was a skeptical expression on his face but thankfully he kept silent when they went back to work.

“Ouch,” Shanks exclaimed when he felt a hand tear out one of his hairs. Turning, he faced Doc who was looking down on him from behind, his face stern as he held the single hair in his hand like an accusation. It was gray and had lost all its shimmer.

“I hope it was worth it,” was said with a voice that made the Yonko almost wince. He didn’t back down, however, but snatched the hair out of the other man’s hand and carelessly dropped it on the floor. Laying on the grayish stone ground of the hall, it immediately became mostly invisible. A stark contrast to Shanks usual vivid red hair.

“It was,” he snapped, a little pout on his lips while Yasopp, who sat across from Shanks, shot a sharp look at the doctor. He obviously felt the need to defend Shanks who only now realized he must have seen Doc approaching before him, with the way he sat, facing the grand hall.

 “Don’t judge him,” came out of Yasopp’s mouth, an accusation towards Doc who dropped on the bench next to Shanks. He felt the man brush his shoulder, a silent apology for his action and words though there were still doubts visible in the doctor’s blue eyes. He turned his upper body, put an elbow on the table and rested his chin in his hand. A relaxed stance to hide how concerned he really was.

“I do not judge him. I am worried,” Doc said.

A sigh escaped Shanks’ lips at the words and he ran a hand over his face, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. Sleep had been short in the last few days, as he had tried to work through the reports he was getting about Nanohana and Robin, next to his normal duties as a Yonko. “Don’t be. I am alright.”

“You just sacrificed a second of your lifespan to resurrect a flower,” Doc pointed out, implying with his words that shortening one’s own lifespan for botanic reasons was not a way to make him believe someone was quite right in the head. But all Shanks felt was pride filling his chest and he couldn’t prevent that a warm smile tugged on his lips. He knew seeing it was worrying the other’s more than it calmed them. His actions weren’t always planned, he trusted his instincts and he trusted the people around him. Their happiness meant a lot to him, every single person under his care was someone he wanted to see happy. It didn’t matter how old or young they were. Giving a second of his lifespan for the laughter of a child seemed like the easiest prize to pay.

 “No, I just sacrificed a second of my lifespan so Benn could resurrect a flower. Also, it made Rika happy, so it’s been worth it,” he answered nonchalant, his arms outstretched, as a yawn slipped his mouth. There was a twinkle in his eyes, making him look more alert than he actually was. The tiredness had him still in its grip, but he didn’t allow it to show. It had cost him way more energy than he had presumed to help Benn perform his spell. Unfortunately, Doc was not that easily fooled, because his raised eyebrow spoke volumes of what he thought of the yawn. There were reasons he was one of his closest friends and the head doctor of this castle. It was his job to look behind a person’s mask and see the truth to help and heal. He surprised Shanks when he still decided to change the topic.

 “Why have you even needed to interfere?”

Somehow this topic wasn’t better than the one before and again Shanks felt the urge to yawn. Instead of doing so, he sighed, knowing there was no way he could hide his reasons. Seeing Doc raise his eyebrow again in doubt and cross his arms in front of his chest, he could feel a scolding was coming on. The noises that rang through the hall were loud enough to cover their conversation but Shanks really didn’t want to talk about this in the dining hall, with all the people around them.

 “Shanks!” Doc exclaimed. Apparently, he was fed up with not getting the answers he wanted. It made Shanks jerk up a little and erased a little of his tiredness. When Doc sounded that harsh, he really was worried and that was nothing he wanted. So he pushed himself away from the table, attempting to get up.

“We shouldn’t discuss this in public.”

His voice was weary, and his eyes roamed around the room, taking in the few glances he got. All these people believed in his strength. They placed their trust on his shoulders and no matter he gladly did what was expected of him, it felt like a heavy burden sometimes. Especially when he felt like he wasn’t able to fulfill what the title of a Yonko brought with it. Why did he have to help Benn with his seal anyway? Why was he not strong enough to open this damn necklace and have all of this not happening?

 “I’m sorry,” Doc said as if he had felt what was going through Shanks’ mind. There was a sadness in his eyes and he nodded to the exit, indicating he would not pry further until they were somewhere private. Probably Shanks’ office, that was just used for occasions when he needed a place to discuss things without people listening in. He never really used it for working - sitting at a desk for too long drove him crazy. He preferred to read his reports outside, or in his bedroom… or not at all.

A bit surprised, he watched Doc stand up and head towards the kitchen. Yasopp seemed confused, too.

“Where are you going?” Yasopp asked, speaking for the first time since he had stood up for Shanks, but Doc waved it aside.

“Getting Roo. Or do you want to leave him out?”

At the words Shanks had to laugh truly. They would never leave Roo out, even though Shanks knew exactly that he wasn’t done with his work yet. He waved at Doc, telling him to go get the fourth of their little round.

“Get him, but ya don’t let him leave the kitchen without something good to eat,” he exclaimed and Yasopp groaned. His black locks flew as he shook his head in lack of understanding. His words made Shanks grin.

“Goddess Shanks, didn’t you just have breakfast?” 

Slender fingers held the cloth like a valuable piece of silk, the white of the skin almost pale, even though Roo knew the sun took as long to burn it as his own rather dark skin. The figure a few steps away from him worked with precise movements, drying and arranging cutlery like it was the most important task. For a man, his movements seemed almost graceful and no one could be more misplaced in a kitchen than Benn, yet he did all he was told without fail.

Sighing quietly, Roo wondered if he should talk to Shanks about his new assistant’s job… if he could even call the work Benn did a job. He didn’t really need another assistant. Sure, any help in the kitchen was welcome, especially from such a man who didn’t need long explanations, who caught on to what he was told in seconds and memorized everything in a heartbeat. By now, Benn probably knew half of his recipes by heart, just by watching. To work with him was the most pleasant Roo had ever experienced, and that was what made him believe there had to more for the man.

He pushed away from the worktop and walked up to Benn. His eyes searched and found the gray hair in between the raven black. The sight made him furrow his brow. Roo didn’t know if it had been intuition or coincidence that had made him go check up on Rika’s talk about fixing whatever she had meant. Whatever the case was, he had left the kitchen in the right moment to see her mother’s eyes go wide. It was a big deal to resurrect a living thing, even if it was just a small flower, and what had shocked Roo even more had been the subtlety of the spell. Almost none of the people dining in the hall had realized what was going on. Where others would brag about their strength, Benn was not even mentioning it… and Roo had the feeling he didn’t even realize what power he held. A power suppressed in years of slavery. He sighed again.

“Are you here tomorrow?” Roo asked to push the depressing thoughts about wasted talent and missed chances away. He couldn’t change things, which was why he would allow Benn to work here for however long he wanted. This man needed time, and Shanks did, too, to get rid of the chaining necklace hidden under red silk.

The cloth Benn still held in his hands was lowered, a fork placed carefully to the rest and gray eyes looked questionably in his direction. They looked so wise, yet so utterly clueless, it felt like a mistake in the goddess’s system.

“Where else should I be?”

His voice could have been mistaken as arrogant, but Roo knew it was rather matter-of-factly. For Benn there was no other option than following this fragile routine he dared to believe in by now. Roo would have loved to shake him until he woke up and realized there was more to life. But it would be rather inappropriate. Also, he didn’t believe it would help.

Instead of tugging the gray hair from Benn’s head as he wanted to, Roo walked up to the hearth. With a flick of his wrist he lowered the flame. There was lunch to prepare and the water he was heating was now hot enough to boil some eggs in it. Without any word, Benn reached for the box and handed it over. The first egg was carefully placed into the water, then another and another. A soft clonk sounded every time a new one hit the bottom of the pot.

“You might have planned to take your day off and see the city,” Roo said and tried to sound as casually as possible. He knew someone must have told Benn about the days off, because there was no irritation in his face. Yet, Roo also knew that former slaves tended not to believe such luxuries counted for them, too. As must have Benn. It was visible in his eyes.

“I haven’t,” he mumbled and lowered his head as if he was expecting a punishment for even allowing his thoughts to wander to such selfish notions like having a day or even just some hours to himself alone, to do something he enjoyed or nothing at all. It was saddening, in fact almost painful to go through this charade, but Roo knew it was the easiest way, at least in the beginning. He had gone through the same game of ordered freedom. Shanks had pushed him into the right direction softly but firmly until he had realized it was his own choice to be free. Roo would be forever grateful for it.

“Good,” replied and let the word trail off a little, until he looked up from his pot, the last egg placed in it. They would be part of a salad for later. On his face was a smile that was met with wonderment. But Roo just took the cloth out of Benn’s hands and threw it aside, onto a pile of already dirty ones. “There is a fair in about a month. It’s a highlight of Manoas’ season of spring. You shouldn’t miss it. Take the weekend … or better the whole week off on that date and enjoy yourself.”

While he had spoken, some soft expressions had washed over the other’s face, none of them giving away that massive shock of surprise Benn was feeling, or so Roo believed. It was impressive how well some human could control their emotions. Somehow it was also sad someone had to do so. But with Benn’s former life as a pleasure slave, Roo expected it had been necessary to survive.

Just when Benn opened his mouth to answer, the door opened and saved him from saying anything. Instead, Doc peaked in and Roo cursed his bad timing. The man better had a good excuse for interrupting his attempt of getting Benn out of his nutshell.

“We’re having a meeting and Shanks demands food. You’re coming?” was voiced into Roo’s direction and the chef’s mood changed from slightly angry to surprised. Glancing at Benn, who still stood more or less emotionless, Roo wondered whether the man was curious about this news. But maybe you were only surprised when you knew that Shanks only wanted to meet like this when something important was to be discussed.

“Tell him, if he wants food, he has to wait another twenty minutes,” Roo answered after a moment and turned to Benn, while Doc moved out of the kitchen as he had come in. Through the closing door, Roo heard him chuckle. Eying the boiling eggs for a moment, he snorted and walked to the cupboards.

“Mind to give me a hand? It’s a shame an empty brain doesn’t go well with an empty stomach,” he huffed at Benn, who just went to get plates without an answer. Yet the twinkle in his eyes revealed hidden amusement and that was enough for the chef. He would get more out of Benn at another time.

Chapter Text

The sound of a creaking door woke Benn. Startled, he opened his eyes and sat up just to realize it was still dark in his room.  Slowly, his sight adjusted to the silvery light the moon was spilling onto the floor. A yawn escaped him. It was too early to get up, even for him. Another two hours of sleep would do him good. There was still enough time before he had to get ready for work.

With a sigh he lay back down and felt the soft mattress yield beneath his weight. How he wished he would be allowed to sleep for however long he wanted, if only for once. When he started to weave a spell that would wake him two hours from now, it hit him. Today, he could sleep for however long he wanted because he wouldn’t have to work in the kitchen. It was the first day of Manoas’ spring festival, and therefore he had the whole week off.

Vacation… it still seemed odd to him that he wouldn’t have to work. He was a slave, yet in the whole month he had spent here, it had been easy to forget. Or it would have been if the cold metal around his neck hadn’t been a constant reminder of what he truly was. A yawn escaped his lips and he closed his eyes, trying to find sleep again. It would be a lie to say his life conditions hadn’t increased drastically since Shanks had bought him. No more people trying to claim him. No one who watched him with longing eyes, desiring him for his looks only. No more pain and no more mental or physical abuse. It seemed like a dream, but Benn knew that his dreams tended to suddenly burst like soap bubbles that were touched for their beauty.

Turning on his side, he pushed the depressing thoughts aside. They wouldn’t help him understand Shanks’ reasons for keeping him collared, while every other slave living in the castle had been freed.

He reached for the airy blanket and pulled it up to his chin, his fingers brushing some of the silky black strands out of his face. Silvery moonbeams fell through the window and calmed his restless mind. The pillow under his head was soft and his body slowly relaxed, the soothing atmosphere drawing him back into the blissful darkness of sleep, where he saw soft brown eyes framed by red hair.

“You are no slave anymore!”

The next time Benn opened his eyes, sunrays were falling through the window and tickled his nose. The blanket he had tugged under his chin before he fell asleep again was just short of slipping to the floor and barely even covered his legs anymore. The last time he had been allowed to sleep as long as his heart desired had been ages ago, and he felt relaxed and just a tad drowsy.

Benn sat up and stretched his arms over his head, then he got out of bed, undressed and decided to take a shower. Just when he opened the door to the bathroom, he heard something hit the floor with loud bang, followed by equally loud cursing. Smiling inwardly, Benn shook his head and stepped under the shower.

It became harder and harder to keep a neutral attitude towards Shanks. The man was charismatic in every way and sometimes just a little bit scatterbrained, which made him even more likable. But maybe only Benn was aware of the latter since his room was located next to the Yonko’s. Ever so often, he heard the man drop things, mutter to himself or curse either because he could not find what he was searching for or because he had tripped over the mess on his floor. By now Benn was aware that even a Yonko had duties he liked to avoid.

As hot water was running down his chest in rivulets, different thoughts crossed his mind. On the one side, Benn knew that Shanks had a genuine and cheery nature, on the other side he didn’t want to get too close with him. Every time he caught himself thinking of the redhead as more of a superior than a master, he wished the necklace would just disappear so he would be free to act on his feelings and hopes. But since he couldn’t imagine the necklace coming off anytime in the future, the only thing he could do to protect himself was keeping his feelings at bay.  Being ripped out of his surroundings again would just hurt more if he grew roots here. A sigh escaped his lips. He was just glad that aside from some random encounters he didn’t have to see much of the other man.

“Mommy, can I go? Please?” Rika pleaded, looking at her mother with big, round eyes. Her gaze could have melted even stone, yet it did not affect her parents. They were sitting next to Benn, the group for once having breakfast together without him needing to get back to the kitchen at the end of his break.

“We’ll go tomorrow, Rika. You have school today, as has your father. And I have to work, too,” was the consequent answer of Ririka, who flicked a short glance to the magic influenced sundial hanging over the archway of the entry. The festival traditionally opened on Fireblossom Day, but since this year it fell on the day before the weekend, there would be no skipping work or school. Otherwise, Benn would have taken Rika with him. “Also, drink your hot chocolate, we’re already late.”

Rika pouted for a second but then she reached for her cup. Benn gave her a sympathetic look when the Bougainvillea hanging around her neck caught his eye. He recognized it as the same flower he had resurrected and it was still blooming like it had on the first day. After a week, Ririka had made a pendant out of it so the girl could wear it on a leather string as a necklace and wouldn’t misplace the flower. Kai had told him Rika had once forgotten it in her classroom and when she had realized it, she had cried until they went back and found it. The story had made Benn smile, just like he was smiling right now. It was a lovely contrast, the pink against her green dress.

The way she looked, Rika could be a goddess’s child, Benn thought. Legend said that Maali, their highest goddess, had fallen in love with the earth and became pregnant. Yet she lost the child, and her tears were like fire, dripping onto the earth. Wherever those tears fell, though, colorful flowers sprung up and spring commenced. The most precious tear, the one she shed as she held her dead child in her arms, brought forth a crimson blossom of such unearthly beauty that men could burn just by looking at it. Out of it, two children crawled, and Maali raised them as her own. These two children became the offspring of humanity. This legend of the origin of mankind was the reason the people celebrated Fireblossom Day every year.

“I’ll get you something, alright?” Benn suddenly said, after his thoughts had wandered for a minute. Rika’s face lit up immediately, while Kai groaned.

“You’re spoiling her rotten, Benn.” He accused his friend in a mocking tone. “She’s talking about marrying you, already.” Kai seemed a little aggrieved at his daughter’s notion.

“And I always thought three-year-old girls want to marry their father,” said a familiar voice behind Benn. It saved him from having to come up with a witty reply. Turning around, he saw Roo standing behind him, who grinned mischievously at Kai. He was holding a tray with empty tea glasses, all of them decorated with a golden filigree pattern. People here usually liked drinking a certain kind of mint tea that was a specialty of Manoas, but too sweet for Benn’s liking.

Brown curious eyes shifted from Benn to Roo. Rika had placed her now empty cup back on the table. She frowned in concentration as she apparently tried to make sense of Roo’s statement. When she spoke, her voice was filled with the sobriety only a child could muster. “But I can’t marry him. Daddy’s already married to Mommy. And Benn tells me stories.”

They exploded in laughter, even more so when Rika looked more confused than before. No one got the opportunity to explain their mirth, though, as her mother shooed them up, telling them to hurry. Roo sat down in the place she had abandoned, setting the tray down on the table. Automatically, he fished for the cup the family had forgotten to take to the kitchen and put it next to the tea glasses.

“You’re excited to be going to the festivities?” he asked Benn, who shrugged first but nodded then. He was indeed, but it also scared him to have free time on his own. Suppressing the need to reach for his scarf, he opted for picking up his coffee and taking a sip.

“I hope I won’t get lost,” he mumbled into his cup, which made the cook smile.

“I doubt that. And even if you do, there will be enough people who can point you back to the palace.”

Benn watched him check the sundial as Ririka had done just before. The kitchen did not wait, not even for its head-chef, and it had to be even more stressful without the additional help. From time to time, Benn wondered how they had managed before he had started to work in the kitchen, but Roo was a master in his calling. That the kitchen was running well was not due to his giving an extra hand.

“Have you gone to see Yasopp?” Roo added, before Benn could reply anything.

“Not yet.”

Yasopp was in charge of the castle’s finances, and one of his tasks was the handling of everyone’s pay account. Sure, he had assistants who paid out money when someone wanted to withdraw it from their account, but he insisted on registering the monthly wages of every staff member himself. Usually, that happened on their first day in the palace - for the former slaves it had been part of allocating their rooms and jobs to them. As this hadn’t been the case with Benn, he still didn’t have a pay account… It had probably been the memory of that day when all the necklaces had dropped except for his that had made him delay seeking out Yassop, yet. But he had promised Rika to get her a gift, and without money, buying something for her wouldn’t be happening. He hadn’t even asked how much he would earn for helping out Roo in the kitchen. Same as having vacation, owning money was beyond Benn.

A frown appeared on the chef’s face at the answer. For the last few days he had repeatedly reminded Benn to finally seek out Yasopp to get a pay account and shift his salary on it. Benn had always nodded appeasingly, but hadn’t really realized what it would mean for him to own money. Now, though, it couldn’t be avoided anymore, and still he just couldn’t really grasp the implications. Roo however didn’t back off this time. He just called Raki over to take the tray away and then closed his eyes. Benn watched his lips move silently, before Roo looked at him again.

“I hate using this spell when there is chatter all around me,” Roo groaned, and Benn knew he had used a communication spell. “Yasopp waits for you in the library and, thank the goddess, you can’t ignore the issue any longer. After all, you now need money to buy a gift for Rika. I know you are a modest person, but do me a favor and don’t just buy something for her. Sometimes I really think you’re too nice for your own good...” With those words he got up and headed for the buzzing kitchen again.

Light flooded the library, and as always, Benn’s gaze was drawn to the enormous glass dome above. Beams of sunlight fell through the clear glass panels, danced with the dust particles in the air and illuminated the tightly packed shelves of dark wood that lined the walls of the circular room. Hundreds over hundreds of books bound in leather or linen glowed in the soft morning light. So much knowledge waited here to be found, a multitude of information about plants and medicine, long forgotten spells, geography, philosophy, politics and more. So many undiscovered stories and other worlds slept between the pages, waiting to be brought to life by the imaginative mind of a reader. A soft smile appeared on Benn’s face and he breathed in the dry and slightly dusty air that smelled of ancient leather-bound tomes, paper and just dried ink. Libraries had always been a sanctuary for him, a place where he could escape from reality and dream. Suddenly a loud sneeze sounded, making him jump and then look around rapidly.  Benn spotted Yasopp sitting at one of the small tables that were scattered in groups all over the center of the large room. He preferred conducting most of his business as the minister of finance from here as the treasure chamber down in the basement wasn’t nearly as comfortable as the library.

“Are you coming over to me or do you plan to stand there for eternity?”, the man asked with both humor and a little impatience in his voice. It made Benn smile. The two of them had started to train their archery skills together once a week, and by now he knew that he could forego the formalities and say whatever was on his mind. It had needed a lot of teasing and riling him up from Yasopp’s side, but after a while, Benn had dared to make his first sarcastic reply. Instead of getting angry, Yasopp had laughed and it had somewhat broken the ice.

Benn walked the few steps over to the other and sat, as he was told.

“Hello to you too, Yasopp.”

Yasopp harrumphed at the dry sarcasm lacing his voice and rolled his eyes.

“Took you long enough.”

A bit ashamed that he had kept the other waiting for so long, Benn dropped his gaze. On Yasopp’s small wooden desk lay a book, a quill and an ink jar, as well as a leather pouch, which probably contained money. One glance showed Benn that the book listed expenses and earnings, probably of the whole castle, because he could spot an entry about renovations. He didn’t dare to look closer, as not to seem prying, but he wondered how Yasopp managed to keep track of everything, as there were a lot of crossed out points and corrections. He himself would probably go mad if he had to work with such a mess.

“But as you’re finally here, we rather start before you run away from me.” There was the same amount of mockery in Yasopp’s tone as when Benn had greeted him. It was hard to take any offense in it, so he grinned lopsidedly. The other wasn’t so far off, after all.

Benn would have expected to be given a lot of paperwork, but instead Yasopp handed him a flat piece of silvery metal that could fit in any pocket. Surprised, Benn turned it in his hands, and spotted a number carved into it, as well as three parallel lines over an eye. His eyebrow rose, because he doubted it was a coincidence that the symbol looked like Shanks’ scars.

“What is it?”, he asked, sounding curious.

“This is the identity disk for your pay account. Every time you want to withdraw some money, you have to show the disk, as well as silently recite a security code. The security code consists of four numbers only you know. I will embed them into the metal with a seal, and every time you think of them or say them silently, the metal will change from silver to gold for a short moment. It’s the proof that you’re the rightful owner of the identity disk. You can use it in most of the stores here in Manoas, and we automatically pay the bills we get once every month,” Yasopp explained, and Benn nodded to indicate he had understood. It seemed like a useful invention and he eyed it again, weighting the metal in his hand.

“I would recommend, though, that you take some cash with you for the festivities. Not everyone accepts the disk, especially not the people working at the market. And this way, it will be much easier for you to keep track of how much you have spent already,” he continued and again Benn just nodded. It sounded logical enough. Not that he intended to spend much money anyway.

“So have you thought of the four numbers for your security code?”

“I have.”

He was holding the gleaming silver disk flat in his open palm as Yasopp closed his eyes and started to mumble some words. The air shifted slightly. Fascinated by the concept of the spell, he tried to concentrate on it. For a moment it felt like different hues of colors appeared in the air, looking a bit like a scrambled rainbow. But it must be a trick of the light, Benn was sure, because it was gone again in a second. A moment later, the piece of metal changed its color and material to gold, and Yasopp looked at him and smiled. “Now think of the four numbers. The metal will change its color again when the seal is done.”

His four favorite numbers slipped through Benn’s mind and he immediately repeated them again, to not forget the sequence. Just when his concentration switched back on the metal, he realized the seal was already woven into the identity disk, because it had turned back to silver.

“Fascinating,” he mumbled and looked at the engraved number, while Yasopp pulled the pouch closer.

“So how much do you want to take with you in cash?” Yasopp asked. Benn realized he had no idea how much money he possessed even though he had already decided on the way here that he wouldn’t take more than half with him. Who knew when he would desperately need money… or whether he would suddenly have to pay it back. If that were to happen, not even saving half of the money would save him, as none of it would have ever really belonged to him.

“How much do I have?” he asked a bit reluctant, feeling strange to ask such a question after years of not even owning his own body, much less any personal belongings. If he had to pay the money back, he knew what would be asked of him.

“Well, as you haven’t yet received your welcome money,” Yasopp mumbled and opened another empty page, starting to write down the keyword ‘welcome money’ and next to it a number, “and also get your salary for last month,” another line followed “and some extra cash from Shanks who told me to tell you to buy some necessities you need,” the third entry was made “you’ll have all in all 190,000 berry at your disposal.”

The number echoed in Benn’s head and somehow everything started to spin around him His eyes had followed the calculation, but he had needed Yasopp to actually say the sum out loud, in order to realize it was for real. Falling back into the arm chair, Benn rubbed his temples and tried not to start laughing hysterically. Because this was truly absurd. In all his life, he had never dreamed to own such a sum. Heaven, in his younger years he hadn’t even been worth as much.

“Benn, you okay?” Yasopp suddenly asked and he tried to focus again. Nodding slowly, he wondered why he was not just shaking his head, asking when this charade would stop. Was this all a big joke? Or maybe he was dreaming and would wake up any moment, finding himself still living in his old master’s house, and not in a Yonko’s palace.

“Benn?”

Realizing he had zoomed out again, he sighed and looked at the book. The last line sprung into his eye. ‘Extra cash from Shanks’. Yasopp’s choice of words wasn’t really creative but straight to the point. Why was the redhead giving him money? Benn couldn’t figure it out, so he decided not to dwell on it. It would just confuse him even more than he already was, and he was very confused indeed. Confusion seemed to be the new usual state of mind for him.

“Sorry I’m fine, I just didn’t expect it to be so much. Would you just give me the 10,000 Berry of the welcoming money? I’m sure I won’t need more,” he finally said and after a perplexed gaze at Benn, there was comprehension in Yasopp’s eyes. The coins at the bottom of the pouch clinked together as Yasopp reached in and counted out the notes.

“You can always withdraw more… I won’t be here for the next few days, but someone else will,” was replied a lot more quietly then before. Then a gleam appeared in Yasopp’s eyes and he fished for some more notes, placing them on the table in front of Benn. “When you find some nice bow-strings, would you buy them for me? I need to repair some of the practice bows.”

Taking the money, Benn counted it so he would remember how much Yasopp had given him. “Sure,” he replied while the other wrote down how much Benn had taken from his account, and how much he had given him for the bow strings. “Ehm, Yasopp, it’s 80,000 Berry, not 70,000.”

Looking up at hearing the words, Yasopp made a noise of surprise before he looked at the page again where he had just subtracted the money from the total sum, writing down ‘Bow strings – Benn’. “But didn’t I…,” he mumbled and then sighed, crossing out the number and writing down the correct one. “You’re right, thanks for telling me. I hate numbers.” He looked slightly disgruntled.

This made Benn, who had just stood up and placed the money in his pocket, raise an eyebrow. After all, the man was the minister of finance. Or something equivalent to it – the people living in the palace didn’t care much for titles, this much Benn had found out until now. But Yasopp was handling the castle’s money and therefore it was strange he didn’t like mathematics.

“Not the best qualifications for handling a palace’s finances,” he mused, waiting for the other to pack up his things, but Yasopp just sighed and grimaced.

“True enough, but everyone else is worse. I at least have run a business once before. However, enjoy the day. You’ll love the city! And if you don’t find bow strings just use the money for whatever and we’ll deal with the differences when I’m back.” Firmly, he closed the book, placed the cap on the jar of ink and tied up the pouch with the money.

Benn’s eyebrow rose. It would only be right for him to keep the money safe should he not find bowstrings, and not spend it as Yasopp hat suggested, he thought. Wondering where the man was going, his curiosity got the better of him and he asked:How long will you be away?”

“Just a few days, four or five I guess,” he answered and finally got up to leave the library with Benn. “I’m picking up my wife and son.”

The words made Benn halt and he scrutinized the other. He hadn’t known that Yasopp was married, even though he had lived here for over a month now. The woman had not been in the kitchen once, or at least Benn hadn’t noticed her. Where was that… but Yasopp just grinned and fished for something hidden under his shirt. It was a thin leather band and on it was a simple piece of wood. The symbol made Benn smile. “I see.”

To show the marriage of two people, the custom prescribed that the partners had to plant a tree or bush, and when the branches were thick enough, they would carve something out of a piece wood to wear it on their skin. It was supposed to symbolize the life flowing through the plant and the growing of their relationship, because only a growing, living, cared for plant could form branches thick enough to bear the loss of a little wood.

“Now off with you,” Yasopp shooed him, grinning widely and it was obvious he was eager and happy to see his family again. And how could he not?

Making his way from the palace to the center, Benn took his time to regard the city with awe.

In his life, he had seen many different cities and many different houses. It also wasn’t the first time for him to walk through streets by himself, yet it was the first time it was his decision alone where to go, how fast to move and when to stop to just observe the city and the people living in it. This was a feeling so new to him he wanted to savor it and lock it in his memory forever, as he wasn’t sure if he would have the chance ever again.

A small grin constantly tugged on his lips as he looked around, taking in the view of the white or sand-colored houses, their light colors chosen for their capability of reflecting the sunlight and therefore keeping the heat outside. Signs of spring could be seen everywhere, whether it was in the flowers that stuck their heads out through intricate metal fences, or balcony rails blazoned with thriving plants in clay pots. The green hues of grass and trees, palms and bushes, were mixed with sprinkles of white and pink, violet and yellow. Hibiscuses seemed to bloom on every corner, the palm trees would carry dates soon and the air was still morning fresh. Not long from now, the raining season would start, and Benn could imagine the people dancing outside on the dusty streets, welcoming this precious source of life after a long period of scorching heat.

The closer he came to the center, the more people lingered on the streets, some alone but most in groups, friends and families alike. When he first realized he was being stared at, his grin faltered and automatically his hand darted for his red scarf, as if to hide the necklace beneath the fabric. But then he met the eyes of a group of friends, all women around the age of eighteen maybe, giggling and blushing when they realized he had caught them watching him. Suddenly something dawned on him and he closed his eyes, taking a slow breath to shut out the disgust gnawing at him– he didn’t believe the intentions of the young women to be wicked – before he put on his most charming, but to him obvious fake, smile.

“Can I help you, ladies?” he asked, as he moved closer, placing his hands in his pockets to hide their trembling.

Most of the women just blushed even more, looking away or fidgeting with their dresses and hair. One however, a tall woman with henna-dyed red hair and a cigarette between her lips stepped forward. Only her eyes revealed that she had to be younger than the rest, and it surprised Benn to see that her cheeks weren’t flushed at all. A nice change from all those hormone-driven fools, he thought, and her wide, open and honest grin relaxed him as he couldn’t see any immoral intentions in her caramel colored eyes.

“We wondered if you’re from around here, mister,” the woman said, and it was easy to follow her gaze which swept over his face, taking in the features that were clearly not common in the known land.

Keeping his smile up, he shrugged and tilted his head a little. “I’m not from here,” he stated and then added, “but I’m also not from there. At the moment I’m from the palace. And you are?”

His gaze was on the woman who had spoken solely, as the others made him nervous and edgy with their constant stolen glances, their way of taking in his body, even though a part of him reminded him that it was usual for young woman to do so, and they probably would with every other man who was slightly good-looking. He just wished it wouldn’t affect him this badly.

“We are heading for the festivities, mister,” the red-haired girl answered and the boldly spoken words made Benn widen his eyes a little before he chuckled. Such a cheeky one. She was indeed different than her friends.

“Well then, have fun! Ladies…” He bowed a little, which elicited some giggles again, before he walked off. Staring eyes followed him until he rounded a corner, and only then he allowed himself to sigh. Trembling hands moved through his black hair redoing his loose ponytail, before he shook the feeling off. It was silly to let such a simple encounter affect him, especially considering that they had been young woman with too much hormones in their blood.

Scolding himself silently again, he also realized that most people had probably stared because he was foreign looking, and not because they wondered about his scarf. Letting the realization sink in, he finally gave himself a push and continued his way to the center. This would not ruin his day. To be honest, he actually felt better knowing him being a slave had not been revealed, and he finally managed to convince his brain that no one could guess at his status just by looking in his face. As music sounded from afar, his grin was back.

The sun was already high in the sky, when Benn reached the site where most of the festivities were held.
The city itself had been a sight, but the marketplace was astonishing and decorated beautifully. Lanterns were hanging from every palm tree, not lighted yet, but they surely would be later in the day. Paper-folded flowers hung down from windows and archways, their color a shining red, and Benn wondered if it was due to the legend of the fireblossoms having been red, or because of the people honoring their reigning red-haired Yonko.

To take in the sight, Benn had stopped walking but soon realized he was standing in the way. With swift steps, he went into a corner of the passage that was one of the many entries to the marketplace, and where a big pot was standing. The clay was a slightly dusty, but garnished with pieces of glass, red and yellow, symbolizing either the sun or a fire. Above him a majestic orange tree stretched out its branches, providing a little shade.

The buzzing was enormous, noises filling the air from everywhere as a constant flow of people walked into the huddle of market stands and booths. Somewhere at the other end Benn could spot a banner flowing in the wind and he guessed there had to be some kind of center, probably with a stage or something similar. It was where the music was coming from, which was competing with the relentless chatter of the crowd. He tried to pick out what instruments were being played, but it was impossible from this distance.

The different hues of fabric the people were wearing mixed and flowed together until Benn could see all the colors of the rainbow. They swarmed down the street like flies, yet looked like butterflies dancing in the sun. Compared to the other areas of the known land Benn had lived in until now, Shanks’ capital looked like pots of colors had tumbled over and the paint had mixed to create a giant, chaotic and marvelous painting. Spring was truly in force here, making Benn feel bleak compared to everyone else. The only clothes he owned were dark, blue, green, black. Then a gust of wind lifted his scarf lightly and the red moved into his vision. With his hands he pressed it down to not reveal his necklace. The silk was cool under his touch, and bright red, like fireblossoms or vivid hair that had snuck its way into his dreams.

Laughter sounded from afar, making his head turn to look for it. Delighted, bubbling and charming it floated through the constant humming of the crowd and pulled Benn forward as if he was connected to strings. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his pants, but this time just because it was more relaxing and not to hide any trembling. Too much thinking most often didn’t help, and this day was not one to waste on brooding. Today, he wanted to set all his worries and fears aside, savor this freedom and enjoy being part of the vibrant festival.

Bodies brushed past him when he joined the stream that moved towards the center, and the more people surrounded him, the more invisible he became, like it always happens in a big crowd. Some curious glances still found him, but there was so much to see and experience that after some time Benn just stopped to care. Taking a deep breath, he became one of many, feeling just like an ordinary person. And for Benn, this was the most extraordinary thing of the whole day.

Chapter Text

A part of Benn would have loved to create a painting of the sight in front of him. There were sacks filled with different spices placed next to each other and the colors shimmered, as shadows played catch with the sunrays. Wide stripes of linen fabric held up by simple wooden poles were stretched over the crowd to block the sun, yet the many holes didn’t really keep the sunlight out.

Scents of oregano, thyme and pepper filled his nostrils, when a small wooden box filled with a red powder-like spice caught his eye. A label claimed it to be Redline Chili. He had never heard of it before and after one month of working with Roo in the kitchen he had gathered a wide knowledge about food. He had learned more about it than he had ever thought necessary.

The spice merchant was talking with some other customers, so Benn took his time to regard the colorful display. He eyed the bright yellow curcuma, perfectly small round pink pepper kernels and lots of fragrant bundles of dried herbs, but his gaze was always drawn back to the red powder in the box. There were a few other spices he didn’t recognize, but this one had caught his attention because of its name. This particular chili probably grew at the far-off mountain-chain, Benn thought, a place everyone had heard of but only few had ever been to. People said there was snow on its peaks all year round, something Benn couldn’t imagine, even if he tried. Ice was a rarity and ice-cream only served to the richest people. The production required wide knowledge and consumed more energy than most people could afford. Magic did make it possible, but because of the hot climate here, it had to be eaten very quickly or it would melt right away. 

“How can I help you, mister?”

The voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he looked into the open face of the salesman who had finally turned to him. His tanned face was weathered, the eyes and lips surrounded by fine lines seen on people who spent most of their life outdoors. Nodding, Benn pointed at the chili.

“Can you tell me something about this spice? I have never heard of it before,” he said and the edges of the other man’s mouth curled upwards.

“Which is probably because it’s pretty rare. I live near the Redline but travel here every year for the festivities. I stumbled over the plant a year ago and tried to grow it ever since. The pepper is very spicy but holds a certain kind of sweetness, too. I really recommend it.”  This answer sparked Benn’s interest. Roo would surely love to try it.

“How much would a spoonful cost me?” he asked and the man shifted his weight from one foot onto the other.

“It’s a little more expensive than the others because the plants need so much water. 5000 Belly for one hundred grams.”

Gulping, Benn realized that that was indeed a fucking high price for a simple spice, but before he could ponder back and forth too much, he decided to just disregard the costs. For the first time in his life he owned money, and he was determined to enjoy spending some of it today.  Who knew if another chance like this would come again? 

“I’ll take fifty grams and a way to contact you, if you don’t mind. The head-chef of the palace surely would want to know a way of ordering more if he enjoys the taste,” Benn told him and the man’s eyes widened in astonishment.

“I can’t charge the full price to a member of his highness’ staff. You should have… I’m sorry.” The words fell out of the salesman’s mouth like tumbling stones and surprised Benn to such an extent  that he barely registered the others attempt to bow. As soon as he did, however, he made a sharp noise, stepping back slightly. If anyone had to bow to somebody it was Benn and not the other way around. Not to mention that Shanks wouldn’t allow him to bow to him, so he wouldn’t want this to happen.

“Stop, please,” Benn didn’t so much say but almost pleaded, a panic gripping him he hadn’t felt ever since he had stepped on board of the Red Force. Now it came rushing back to him. What if someone found out that he was treated like royalty? He was a slave and certainly Shanks had his reasons to keep him as one, otherwise the necklace would be long gone. This shouldn’t happen!

“I’m just a -“, he hesitated, the word slave already on his tongue but he bit it back for the cause of not shifting attention onto himself. “-I’m a cook’s assistant. If you want to bow in front of someone, please choose someone more worthy than me.”

“But you…” As the man started to speak, visibly baffled by what he had heard, something in Benn’s mind started to swirl, his vision darkening at the edges when he was eyed. Concentrating on his breathing, in and out, in and out, he fought against the panic attack that threatened to overwhelm him. He forced a smile, to not show how he was feeling. Just smile and function. 

“I’m sorry. 50 grams you said, right?”

The words eased him back into reality and Benn nodded slowly, still smiling, not sure if it fooled the salesman or not. He dared to believe it had, because the man started filling the chili into a little bag, closed it with a ribbon he pulled out from under the counter and bent forward to hand it over. As he did, his chest touched a bottle filled with what Benn had spotted earlier was olive oil. It wobbled and then lost the fight against gravity.

“Switch” Benn mumbled almost immediately, when he realized the glass would break, should it hit the cobblestones under his feet. The money he had just pulled out of his pocket vanished and for an instant there was nothing but air in his hand. Then his fingers tightly gripped the bottle while his money fluttered to the ground.

Hand still outstretched, holding the little bag with the chili, the salesman stared incredulously at him, then he shook his head and the edges of his mouth twitched. “Thank you, Mister…?”

“Benn. And you’re welcome. Your oil!” Benn pointed out, giving the bottle back, before he reached for the notes on the ground. Flipping through them he held out the right sum to pay.

As the salesman took the money and finally handed the spice over, he shook his head again, this time almost looking what Benn considered amused. “Is it required to have such quick reflexes as a cook’s assistant in your highness’ palace?” he asked and it made Benn frown.

“Not that I know of.” To be honest Benn couldn’t quite place the question. Instead of another remark, though, Benn just watched the man scribble something on a small piece of paper.

“If the head-chef wants to order some more spices just find this shop here in Manoas. It belongs to a friend of mine who distributes my goods for me.” Benn read the address and nodded. “Have a nice day, Mister and enjoy the festivities.”

“Thank you, I will,” Benn answered just a little irritated. It took a few minutes to shake off the uncomfortable feelings that still lingered after the conversation had ended. But after a while he was enthralled by all there was too see, the stands and goods, again.

By the time Benn reached the center of the market, he had forgotten the strange encounter with the tradesman. His chili was safely tucked away in one of the many pockets his trousers had, and he carried a small linen bag around. In it was a hairband for Rika, pink like the bougainvillea and with a little wood-carved bird attached, as well as the strings Yasopp had asked him to buy. They indeed had only cost a fraction of the money the other had lent him but even if he was allowed to, Benn wouldn’t consider touching the rest. The thought spending someone else’s money didn’t sit well with him. However, he had bought some colorful feathers for arrows, too, as a gift.

His eyes roamed around the piazza, a wide open space, cobblestones covering the ground and many booths framed it. At a stone-wall that must be part of the gateway he had come in earlier, stood a stage. The wall probably marked the historic center, and the tradesman from whom he had purchased the bow strings had told him that Manoas had once been a citadel, yet only as much as the wall and some old houses remained of it.

During his walk around the market he had been able to get a good sense of the place, of its size and he had spotted some of those old houses the merchant had mentioned, because the market made its way through alleys and streets. It was amazing how many trees and plants grew in Manos, yet the river granted the townsfolk a constant source of water, a necessary a lot of different towns lacked. There were palms, all right, but also citrus trees, fig trees and hibiscuses. So many hibiscuses, Benn imagined to smell them without having any of the plant near. Still, he smiled the most when he saw a Bougainvillea.

Banners and lanterns hung at the wall and houses, red fireblossom decorations reminded of the holiday Manoas celebrated and a group of people stood before the stage, watching amazed as some fire-breather performed a show, which – Benn figured by now – should transport the legend of mankind and their highest goddess’ Maali. A band accompanied them, flutes playing a saddening melody as the main actress – her hair a fiery red and obviously dyed – slumped to the ground to show her grief of losing her child. Then drums started to fill the air with rhythmic pounding until its pace rose to thunder, letting the audience feel the ecstatic energy. Then there was a cry and the stage exploded in fire, before little drops of soap bubbles extinguished the flames except of many small candle-like spots that flickered like roses in the wind. It was a magnificent show, and Benn was completely engrossed in it.

He was so focused on it, he didn’t realize the commotion forming a little away from him, until someone was pushed against him, nearly falling. His hands shot out and steadied the man, a middle-aged person with brown hair, green muddy eyes and a thin mouth. He shot Benn a thankful gaze, getting back on steady feet and muttered under his breath, “This goddess-forsaken bastard. Thank you, mister. I can’t believe someone’s being so bold to openly act against our highness’ law. Fucking shit.”

With those words he looked at Benn again, posture full of rage, bitten back with an attempt to straighten his clothes. He wore dark wide trousers and a grass-green shirt that fitted his eyes. It was bright, just like most of the dresses and clothes he had seen on the people today. Nodding once, the man retreated and vanished in the crowd. Blinking, Benn stepped back automatically when some men rushed past him, to give them space and tried to make up what was going on.

He could hear shouts and even those close to him who had initially watched the show were now focused on the tumult. There were too many people to see something, no matter he was taller than most around him. Letting his eyes wander around hastily, he spotted a rock a little left to him, next to a stand with porcelain and moved to stand on it. Ignoring the incredulous expressions on the owner’s face, he stepped onto it. Holding one hand at a post of the stand, he steadied himself and turned a little, to have a better look.

Even further down between a stand selling different kinds of teas and beverages and one selling wooden sculptures was a smaller one, where by now different people shouted obscenities. The first thing Benn realized was that the stand was more like a wagon, as if its purpose was to move it easily. The next were the different cages hanging between ropes of seeds and plants as well as lashes, collars and baskets. Whoever this tradesman was he was selling pets.

Narrowing his eyes, Benn focused on the different cages and only then he saw that the animals weren’t usual ones that were kept as pets. There were parrots, monkeys, even snakes. All of them rose pity in him, because Benn was well aware that the living conditions in the desert were in no way suitable for the animals. They didn’t do well with heat, drought or direct sunlight, and nothing of it changed with them being locked away behind bars. Maybe because he could relate to the feeling of having no freedom himself, he grieved deeply over their cruel fate.

It didn’t explain the commotion though, and the owner was nowhere to be seen.

Stepping off the rock, he turned to the woman who owned the stall next to him. Her eyebrows were raised skeptically and she crossed her arms. She was old, probably around sixty, her white hair framed a tanned and wrinkled face. Yet her eyes were of a sharp brown.

“Young boy, no matter the tumult, staring so openly is offensive and rude.”

The words made Benn blush and he felt how his skin grew warm. It was just as well the scarf was hiding his neck.

“I didn’t mean to…,” he started and then stopped abruptly when the woman hissed.

“Apologizing won’t help the poor animals down there. That bastard is long gone, serves him right, but people gawking on rocks will always summon more of the kind. Our Highness banned the selling of uncommon animals to keep people like you and that bunch down there out of this town. A shame it’s no-“

She stopped at the sound of something cracking and Benn almost jumped out of his skin. Turning in a rush his eyes went wide when he saw the wagon crashing down and people being shoved around. The animals screamed in horrid noises, mixing with the shouts of the people. By now even the artists on stage had stopped their play. They probably had a good view of what was happening from their slightly higher position. And with the looks on their faces they had to be seeing horrendous things.

More and more people came running towards the tumult or tried to get out of it. In a few seconds the peaceful scene had turned into one of chaos and Benn turned to the older woman again. She looked pale under her tanned skin, only slowly realizing what was going on.

“You should get away from here, madam,” Benn insisted and she nodded slowly, before she made her way around her stand. Her eyes swept over the porcelain ware and then to the mob of people that grew bigger by the second, therefore moving closer and closer to her stand. She feared for her goods and Benn could understand. If this was what she made a living of, and her stand broke down like the wagon, she would be ruined. But there was nothing to be done about it, at least not in this short time.

Not knowing what he could do to help, Benn fidgeted with his hands. With the movement, he realized he still held the linen bag he carried his gifts in. Looking at it and then at the woman, he decided she was right and it didn’t really help anyone if he kept on staring. With long steps, he closed the distance to her and softly touched her shoulder. When she turned to him, he saw how shaken she looked, and he could feel her shivering where his hand touched her arm. 

“Madam, would you take this, keep it for me until I get back here? I promise to help repair whatever gets broken.” With those words, Benn shoved the bag into her hand and before she could accept or decline, he gently pushed her to go. There were already enough people around here, and it would be hard enough for an older lady to make her way away from the crowd as it was without waiting any longer.

Benn watched her eyes grow wide, before she straightened her back and made her way away from the tumult. When Benn was sure she was safe, or as safe as she could be at the moment, he turned and darted for the crowd around the broken wagon. He had no idea what he attempted to do, but surely there were people who needed help, having been shoved to the ground. The mental image of someone trampled to death rose in his mind. There was magic in the air, so rich and colliding it felt as if he could grab the different hues of the seals and spells with bare hands. It added to the tension, and adrenaline was rushing through his veins, fueled by the people and their panic and terror.

His head jerked from one side to the other while he scanned his surroundings. The many bodies that bumped into him would cause bruises, he was aware of that, but he ignored the pain for now. A hiss escaped his lips when an elbow met with his ribs forcefully. He knew how to deal with pain from bitter experience, so he didn’t dwell on it. A chirp shifted his attention to the sky and he saw several birds flying towards the sun. His hands balled into fists, and he was nearly choking on the lump in his throat. There was nothing he could do, but he knew they would die miserably after a few days. Macaws and budgies were not suited to survive in this part of the land.

His mind was still dwelling on those depressing thoughts when he was distracted by a high-pitched scream somewhere close to him. It wasn’t loud enough to draw a lot of attention,so the heated shoving and pushing went on, but some of the men and women next to him turned. Not a moment later they jumped, screaming and cursing as well, and as they quickly backed away, they collided with the people behind them. Only the mass of people kept most of them from falling. Benn steadied a man who had bumped into him, then he went forward to have a better look.

In front of him, there was a small girl on the floor, maybe ten or eleven years old, scrambling away while a cobra stood in its attacking position, head lifted in the air, mouth open. It had to be one of the animals from the cart that had been freed when it fell over. With horror, Benn watched the snake surge forward, a scream filling his ears.

“Freeze,” he shouted, his mind conjuring a picture of the deepest cold he could imagine. Simultaneously, the cobra’s momentum halted and it slid to the ground, it’s head only inches away from the girl’s feet. Little chips of ice scattered around the dropping form of the animal, while a wave of heat rushed upwards, burning Benn’s face slightly before it vanished in the air. Closing his eyes, Benn felt his skin itching like after a severe sunburn, but he suppressed the pain and was glad he had spent so much energy on the sudden change of temperature, he couldn’t lift his hands to scratch his cheeks.

He shivered mercilessly, his body suddenly carving for rest and he wondered why. Dark spots danced in front of his eyes, and he concentrated on his breathing. In and out. In and out. After some deep breaths his vision focused. Several eyes stared at him, some hands even held his arms, he must have looked like he would collapse. When he was asked from different sides if he was alright, he just nodded, unable to answer. There was awe in the people’s eyes and many eyes looked at him. Too many.

“I’m fine,” he whispered, shook the hands off him and tried to find a way out of the chaos. People further were still shouting, trying to get away or closer, shoving into each other. Benn just hoped someone would put a stop to this hellhole. He knew he couldn’t. Not anymore. Too much poured down onto him. Too much gazes, too much touches, too much eyes.

While he pushed himself out of reach, just away as far as it was possible, he realized out of the corner of his eyes that an elderly man lifted the girl who had been attacked by the snake up. He just put his faith in him being her father and not someone who wanted to hurt her further.

His feet moved automatically, bodies pushing against him, while he tried to get away. The mass of people was only a blur of colors, noises and pain. He didn’t know how many elbows hit him, and how many feet stepped onto his, but when he sank down in a side-alley against the wall of a stone-house everything ached. With closed eyes he caught his breath, breathing in the sandy air. The noise filtered through him and he could diminish orders after a while. It seemed some guards had finally figured out there was work to do. It wouldn’t help the poor animals, all the birds and monkeys that surely would die if they didn’t find a way to adjust to the weather conditions.

When something soft tickled at his elbow, he jerked a little and could hear a mewl from his side. Opening his eyes and tilting his head, he could see a furl of red fleeing from him. The animal limped, though, and Benn pushed himself up a little. It was a fennec, probably also a rarity that had fled the cages. While it wasn’t an animal often seen, it still had better chances of survival than all the jungle animals. Yet, the way it limped Benn wasn’t so sure about it either. Without thinking much, he pulled himself on his feet and jumped for the fennec.

Pain shot through his arms when he landed on his elbows and he grimaced, as all he held was dusty air. The animal had jumped away at the last moment. Another leap though got his hands around the waist of the fennec and he lifted it up, mumbling soothing words that didn’t help. The fennec still struggled under his grip, clawed him and biting. But Benn didn’t let go, pressed it to his chest, letting it feel his warmth.

“Hush,” he murmured, lacing the words with magic unconsciously, trying to get a link to the animal. He had heard it was possible, similar to the way people could talk over the distance through magic, but yet different as the minds of animals were much simpler. He wasn’t sure what it was in the end, but the fennec stilled in his arms and Benn used the moment to regard it a little closer. It had beautiful red-brown fur, dark scared eyes and white paws. The rear left one had a wire around it though, which had cut into the skin of the fennec. Some tiny blood drops seeped into the fur and were probably what had caused the animal to limp.

“It’s a horrible thing to chain some beauty like you,” Benn murmured, while he tried to loosen the wire without hurting the animal further. Part of his mind pondered if he should give it a name, just to not call it fennec in his head all the time, but he discarded the idea right away. A name was something powerful and he had no right to name a free living being. Like no slave-master had a right to name a person but still they did.

“Here we go,” he said, when he finally managed to get the wire off and then just closed his eyes again, took a deep breath and searched for the connection to the animal, again. The pulsing heart of the fennec was somewhere there, under his fingers and Benn listened. Blood ran through its veins, a soul was buried deep within this beautiful creature. It was hurt, which wasn’t right. It screamed, was pained, but still had soothed under his touch. Benn knew he had to repay that trust.

“You want to be free again,” Benn mumbled, his eyes still closed, only feeling the magic swirl in him. A part hoped he could go through with it, that his necklace allowed it to him, but then it was swiped away by the soft almost purring sounds coming from the fennec. “Want to be whole again. Be part of this world, see more than just a cage, don’t you?”

“I understand. Let’s make it real, at least for you,” he sighed and for a moment there was heat around his neck, but before it could burn him, it was gone again. A nudge at his hands forced him to open his eyes and he smiled, when he saw that the wound had healed. The fur had to grow out over the pink skin, but it would, with time.

“I better get you out of town, or else all this healing was for naught,” Benn said then, ignoring the exhaustion that filled him from the inside out. After the spell to freeze the snake now added with the healing he was ready to sleep off the rest of the day. Yet, he knew he had things to do, before he was allowed.

Chapter Text

It took Benn a while to reach the outskirts of the town. He’d been walking, holding the fennec close to his chest, eyes roaming his surroundings and then suddenly, he’d seen the beginnings of the desert in front of him. No wall surrounded the city, nothing that could hold off an attack from the outside. Yet, deep inside Benn had a feeling that it didn’t leave Manoas unprotected. There was no explanation to it. Nothing that proved his theory, yet Benn just knew.

Stepping out from the last few scattered houses into the open, he looked around. Trees and bushes adorned the few hills, somewhere in the distance something shimmered in the sun which must be the river. Compared to the rest of the land, Manoas was green. Mano River provided the city and people with water and even the landscape adjusted to it. The sand churning under his feet wouldn’t let anyone forget about the land they lived in, the desert, only miles from here. Yet, when Benn looked around he saw palm trees, small bushes with yellow petals, he saw grass over grass and a part of the land that would soon be in full bloom. Shanks could provide his people. He clearly did.

Something shifted in Benn’s arms and he remembered he still held the fennec. For a moment, he had forgotten over the view. Unless living close to the outskirts one wasn’t seeing so much beauty every day. Kneeling down, he placed the animal back on the ground.

“You’re free now. Take care, little bud,” Benn mumbled and watched big, round eyes watch him. The fennec didn’t move at first and Benn lowered a hand to push it, when he felt soft fur rubbing at his palm. Surprised, Benn didn’t dare to move and just enjoyed the soft touch. Cradling the little head in his hand, he stroked softly over it. “I’ll miss you.”

A whimper sounded, as if to agree with Benn, then the fennec turned and ran off. Benn watched it, until it disappeared in some kind of bush, with small, pale leaves. Benn was sure he’d never seen that plant before. His eyes lingered on the empty spot that now just showed plants and sand. He wished it would be as easy for him to vanish, to go wherever his heart took him. It was wishful thinking, so he stood, ready to get back.

The sun was slowly crawling lower as Benn told his exhausted body to keep on moving. First, he had been overwhelmed by the beauty and cleanliness of the city, even so far from the palace. Nothing looked broken or battered down. The houses and gardens seemed well-cared for, no matter Benn hadn’t met many people. He assumed most were still partaking in the festivities. No litter was on the streets, lamps hung from palm trees, similar to those in the archway to the gym, and wherever Benn looked hung decorations. Red was everywhere, reminding that spring was coming and for whom they celebrated.

After a while, though, exhaustion had taken over and pushed away the curiosity. Benn was dimly aware he was hungry, his stomach growled occasionally, yet he was in too much pain to care. The loss of energy from his spells, as well as the long walk took its toll on him. Additionally, Benn wondered if he had lost track. He had taken one or two different turns on his way back to the town’s center, to shorten it. By now, though, he wasn’t sure if it wasn’t the wrong direction. Had he really been walking for as long as he now needed to get back? Everything seemed blurry to his tired mind. He had to ask someone, yet the last time he had met passersbys had been some time ago and despite the shops sprinkled here and there, none were open because of the holiday.

A groan escaped him and he rubbed his temples. By now his headache was killing him and he wondered when the last time had been he had been as exhausted. It was hard to keep one thought at a time, they were fluttering like butterflies, coming and going. Find a shop, get back to the festivities, pick up his things from the old lady and then return to the castle. His plan of action was easy, yet the harder he tried, the less Benn managed to keep a grip on it. Maybe eating would be a good idea, too? But where to get something? And why was he not just sitting down for a moment to rest his tired legs?

Because, a part of him screamed, sitting down was the worst idea right now. So he kept on walking, rounding a corner and realizing he definitely had lost track. Manoas was huge and he could be anywhere right now.

His eyes roamed the houses. It still brought a smile to him how well-cared everything looked. During his life he had seen differently many times. While only rich people could afford him, he was also used as a messenger sometimes, or had to go to different places other than his owner’s house because he was given as a gift to people he never wanted to see again, in places he never wanted to see again. Manoas was a beautiful city and if he had a choice, he knew he’d consider living here.

The street he was in now had a few more shops than the ones before, not as much as the city center, but enough to mark the area as none of a solely housing one. Maybe he did come closer to the city center? Benn hoped so.

While he forced his feet to keep on walking, he looked through the wide windows displaying many different sorts of goods. One shop was branded as the “Oldest candy factory, anno A956” and the displayed sweets made his mouth water. It reminded him how hungry he was. Next to it was a jewelry shop, smaller than the candy factory, but with a blue-painted door, hibiscus growing up the wall, that fit perfectly into the picture of a hand-made craft. An armlet in particular caught his eye, a thin golden band that was decorated with two rubies. Around the gold was another, even smaller line that seemed to envelop the whole armlet. It was beautiful, and unbidden, Benn pictured Shanks wearing it. It would fit him well.

Shaking his head, Benn tried to get rid of the image. He was sure he couldn’t afford the piece of jewelry anyway and why did he even think about buying something for his owner? It was ridiculous and stupid. A waste of money, money he could spend on other things, things for himself. It would be more reasonable.

Still, the image didn’t let go of him, and deep down he had already accepted that Shanks wasn’t like the rest of his former owners. Shanks was different and maybe… Biting his lip, Benn fought the guilt as he remembered the tears sliding down Shanks’ cheek, hidden by his red hair.

There was no way to make up what he had done. Nothing would take back what had happened, and a piece of jewelry wouldn’t erase the past.

Lost in his thoughts and still staring at the armlet in the display, Benn realized someone was moving inside the shop only when the door opened. A woman, several inches smaller than him, yet not small per se, stepped out. She wore a deep green skirt and yellow blouse, her face friendly. It was her eyes, sparkling in a hazelnut brown, with gold specks that took him in immediately. When she saw him she stopped, startled before her mouth split into a warm smile.

“We’re closed mister, I am sorry,” she told him, her voice like a bell. It was easy to imagine her talking in this voice with customers, advising them on what earrings to wear or which necklace to pick. Yet, Benn noticed she herself wasn’t wearing any jewelry despite a simple yellow stone between her collarbones, attached to a silver chain.

“I’m not,” Benn started to reply but stopped when he realized he didn’t really know what to say. He hadn’t even expected to meet someone anymore. A little laugh escaped his throat. Goddess, finally someone who could tell him how to get back to the town’s center.

“Could you tell me how to get to the festivities? I apparently got lost,” he finally managed to say. Before the woman had the chance to answer, though, a little whine sounded from inside the shop.

“Makino,” a voice called out, and a moment later Benn spotted a young boy with raven-black hair and big round eyes. In one hand he held a pair of sandals and in the other what must be a lace, yet it was broken. “ ‘s not working.”

A small smile appeared on Benn’s face at the downright frustrated look on the boy’s face. He had to be three or four, not older, and apparently he had problems with putting on his shoes. In front of him the woman, Makino, sighed and knelt down to be the boy’s eye-level.

“Again?” she asked and then lay her head on the side. Her hair, almost black, but with a fascinating shimmer in the evening light, cascaded over her shoulder. “Well, I guess you have to wear your sandals then. But if someone steps on your toes, don’t complain.”

Benn could see how the expressions of the boy lit up with the words and a moment later he had let himself fall on his bum, to clumsily put on the sandals. Meanwhile the woman turned back to him.

“I am sorry, Luffy and I are on our way to the festivities. It’s not far, maybe a ten minutes’ walk,” she said and then gave Luffy, the boy, a fond look, “maybe fifteen with him. If you like you can walk with us.”

The words made him feel like a big rock fell from his heart. A wave of dizziness shot through Benn’s body, the relief consuming and for a moment his vision became black. The next he realized was a hand on his upper arm.

“Mister, are you alright?”

“I… yes I am,” Benn replied when his vision became clear again. His limbs still felt shaky but he refused to give in now, after he had managed it up to here. Fifteen minutes he could manage. And at the festivities he could get something to eat, which would help.

The woman however seemed to see things a little differently. “You’re white as a sheet,” she exclaimed and, with her hand still around his upper arm, led him inside. Unaware of the situation,  Luffy was still struggling with his sandals, Benn had to step over him. “I’ll get you something to drink. Sit down, please, you’re all rumpled up. What happened to you?”

Without resistance, Benn let himself be pushed down into an armchair. The stool was made of wood, but with a deep blue upholstery and the moment he sat into it he had the feeling of sinking into the depths of the sea. While Makino vanished behind her counter into another room, probably a store room of some sorts, he had time to look at the interior.

Several aisles were clattered around the room that was even bigger than Benn had expected from outside. Each held different sorts of jewelry, from bracelets to hairpins. Every aisle seemed to represent one color, the collection carefully sorted. Benn could only guess how much one of the pieces would cost. More than he could afford, that was for sure. Yet, he felt comfortable in the shop. The light wooden furniture in contrast to the dark stone floor and beige painted walls gave a warm, welcoming feeling. The atmosphere held a feeling of being in one’s sitting room and welcomed to stay and give everything a thorough look. Mirrors hung at the walls, framed with detailed carvings and armchairs, just like his, were placed in different corners, surrounding a small table each. He had to correct his first thought. The shop didn’t remind him of a sitting room, but a coffee house, only that here people were served the most beautiful jewelry.

Rounding the room with his eyes, Benn’s gaze fell back onto the boy, who had followed them back in, his sandals finally on his feet. He watched Benn, but when he realized Benn watched him as well, he lifted his chin. With amusement Benn watched him walk towards him, obviously scared yet brave enough to face his fear. When he stood in front of the stool, he crossed his arms.

“You’re not hurting Makino, understood!” he stated. Usually Benn would probably raise an eyebrow or be startled by such a proclamation but now, exhausted as he was, he chuckled in surprise.

“I promise!” He even held up his hand, as if to swear it. “I wouldn’t dare, facing such a fierce warrior as you.”

For a moment the boy just looked at Benn, then after a while he nodded. As if he had given Benn’s words some thought and decided they could be believed. As if the conversation had never happened, he suddenly smiled and turned towards an empty stool next to Benn, trying to climb up. However, the boy was too small and didn’t manage, so Benn gave him a little push. Looking all proud, he sat down and then grinned.

“I’m Luffy, who are you?”

Again, Benn chuckled. What a cheeky little boy. “I’m Benn. Nice to meet you, Luffy.” Just at this moment his stomach growled with hunger. Warmth filled his cheeks and he was glad only Luffy was around. The boy didn’t seem to mind. Rather he placed his hands on his own stomach and then, as if reminded by Benn, his own stomach growled. Without hesitation he dropped back down from the stool to walk to the counter.

“Makino, I’m hungry.”

A good-natured sigh could be heard from the spare room, before Makino stepped out of it. In her hand she held a glass of water. “Again?” she asked and stepped around to see Luffy. The boy wasn’t big enough to look over the top of the wooden counter. “We ate a few minutes ago and we wanted to eat something at the festivities.”

Luffy whined, held his stomach again that growled impatiently and flopped down onto the ground. “But I’m hungry now.”

“Fine.” She placed the glass aside to kneel down to Luffy’s eye-level. Her gaze was stern, but still warm. The flash of a memory flitted through Benn’s mind. A woman, with soft brown curls, a smiling mouth and a warm voice. Before Benn could really grasp it though it was gone. Yet, something inside him burned. “You get a banana. And then we eat something at the festivities.”

The gleam in Luffy’s eyes as he nodded enthusiastically was hard to miss. Makino was a good mother, that much was obvious. It made Benn smile.

With a push, Makino was back on her feet and turned to Benn, watching him shortly before she asked, “Do you want one, too? Or something else to eat?”

As if she had figured Benn was hungry. Or she was just extremely polite, even towards complete strangers like Benn. He couldn’t tell, but at the mention of food his stomach churned. With a thankful expression – and he hoped he didn’t look too desperate – he nodded.

“Thank you very much.”

She waved his gratitude aside, picked up the glass and signed Luffy to stand up. “Please bring this to our guest, while I get you the banana,” she ordered Luffy, who carefully picked the glass from Makino’s hand to not spill it.

When he had given it over to Benn, he tried to climb back onto the stool he had sat earlier and only needed a little push from Benn, to make it. It was rewarded with a bright grin. “Makino’s bananas are the best,” he exclaimed. “You gonna see.”

Benn didn’t doubt that. He was so hungry that he would have eaten anything. Suddenly he wondered if the boy had only asked for food because he had realized how hungry Benn was. Just in that moment Luffy’s stomach growled again and he slumped back against the back rest, his hands firmly pressed on his stomach. Sipping from his glass, Benn hid the smirk. Or maybe not.

“I heard that stomach growl,” Makino said. She had come back out from behind the counter just that moment, in her hand some bananas. With a few steps she was with them, handing one over to Luffy, another to Benn and slid the other two into a bag she now had slung over her shoulder. It was a simple handbag, brown with golden buttons. It looked modest but expertly done.

“He has the appetite of his grandfather, really. I’m Makino, by the way.” She held out her hand for Benn, who shook it. It was a strong handshake, unafraid of his touch.

“I’m Benn. Thank you again, for this.” He held up the banana, smiling only a little warily. Makino laughed.

“Don’t worry. Luffy’s eating habit matches any grown up adult, believe me. One banana or two doesn’t matter. Shall we?”

With a nod Benn symbolled he was ready to leave and stood. Next to him Luffy hopped down from his stool as well, and only then Benn realized he had already eaten all of his fruit. He held the peel in his hand loosely, cooked his head and his big round eyes looked innocently towards the bag on Makino’s hip.

“Can I have another one?” he asked and unbidden Benn chuckled. What a cheeky boy, indeed.

During their walk towards the town center Benn learned that Makino wasn’t, as he had first assumed, Luffy’s biological mother. Instead she was a friend of the family who watched the kid. She only knew Luffy’s father briefly. As she had told Benn, he was away for work most of the time. What exactly he was doing hadn’t left her lips, though. Luffy’s mother had died shortly after giving birth and had left his grandfather in charge of the boy. The man however wasn’t really a father figure, as devoted to his work at the Headquarters of the government as he was.

The government. The term slipped through Benn’s mind unbidden the moment Makino had uttered it, and as always, he couldn’t quite place it. The institution was considered as something righteous, a collective of officers and admirals to track the usage of magic in the known land. They could upturn the Yonko, threaten them into submission if they wanted. Not that they would dare to. Benn also wasn’t sure if they would manage a fight against any of them. It would contain losses for both sides. People of the government – and their officials – were strong. But so were many people under the Yonko. The government. It was a stupid term. They didn’t govern anyone, that was the Yonkos job - or once had been the high king’s one. But as far as he was aware the government also was much older, and once had ruled. Before that history was blank. The memory of what happened before the government had happened was lost. 

However, as long as black magic wasn’t used, the government wouldn’t intervene with any of what the Yonko did. Slavery, thievery, murder. The law of a region was made by its ruler. The government didn’t care at all if any law was enacted or not. But one use of black magic and they would hunt you down. No matter what the black magic was used for. No matter the costs.

The last high king – Gold Roger – had lost his life due to it. The government had claimed to execute him for black magic. Benn had been a teenager back then. Eighteen. Already deep into slavery, already considered one of the highest priced pleasure slaves, even only after two years. But he knew Gold Roger had always fought against it. Even while he hadn’t managed to erase slavery, he had condemned it deeply. The government didn’t care.

Not that he, Benn, had any say in such grand schemes as politics. He was just glad to know which rules he had to play by, depending on his current owner.

Shanks made it easy for him. In a way. In another he was the most difficult person to understand, ever. The way he acted showed that he condemned slavery, yet a part of Benn couldn’t truly grasp it. Didn’t dare to. Not when it seemed like a farce. Not when his necklace was still on. But now, in this moment of peace, walking side by side with a person so genuinely nice and charming as Makino Benn didn’t dare to think too deeply into it. Life would catch up with him soon enough and he was still too exhausted to spend anymore energy on things he couldn’t change.

From afar Benn could already hear the noises from the festivities, as if the commotion with the illegal pet seller had never happened. The sky was blue, turning slowly into a soft golden shimmer. Only a few clouds sprinkled it. It turned evening, the houses reflecting the sun and the air becoming cooler. Night was still away and Benn was sure Makino would return home sooner than later with Luffy in tow. But until then they had another three or four hours.

“Can I have sam…, sama, same,” Luffy exclaimed eagerly when he realized they were close to the city center. His futile attempts to pronounce the dish made Benn chuckle faintly. Samosas were filled dumplings, often with minced meat and vegetables. Every corner of the known land did them a little differently and Benn only knew the very curry flowered ones from Kaidou’s territory. He wondered how they would taste here, in Manoas.

Makino reached for Luffy’s hand, keeping him close to her. The streets weren’t filled yet, but they would soon be and Benn could guess how easy a kid got lost in the crowd. He stepped closer to his two companions out of instinct.

“You can. Two, maybe three. So you have to choose wisely, when we come to a stand,” Makino said. A grin spread over Luffy’s face, obviously pleased by the answer. He even jumped a little. Then, being safely back on his two feet, he looked sideways up to Benn. He noticed the gaze he got from the boy but didn’t say anything. Instead he curiously gripped Luffy’s hand tightly when he slid it into his own. A moment later Luffy stopped, as Makino and Benn went on walking. Then he sped up and jumped. Realizing what he wanted, Benn lifted him up into the air, sending Luffy flying, as Makino did the same. Joyous laughter escaped into the air and warmth spread through Benn’s chest.

If something ever came close to happiness, it was the carefree laughter of a child.

“What happened to your face, actually?” Makino asked Benn, after a moment of silence. They sat on a bench, eating some Samosas they had bought earlier. They tasted almost sweet, with minced meat, roasted onions and tomatoes. Luffy was fast asleep between them, his head on Makino's lap and his feet on Benn's. It was past his bedtime, but somehow Makino and Benn had gotten lost in conversation, the words flowing easily between them.

“My face?” Benn repeated, and unconsciously his fingers touched his own cheeks. They felt warm and the moment he touched his skin it started to itch. He had forgotten his burn from this morning. But now as he was reminded the events flowed back to him. The old lady still had his stuff.

“It looks red, almost like a sunburn. You know there are lotions against sunburn,” Makino told him in a motherly way that made Benn smile despite the little scolding that swung with the words. Caring for Luffy rubbed off on her.

“I do know that. It's not a sunburn, though being outside all day probably didn't help.” He should have covered his face somehow after freezing the cobra and getting caught in the drawback. Would Shanks mind if it left a scar? The thought made him furrow his brow. Why was he even wondering? It could reduce his price. As a pleasure slave he should keep his body healthy and unmarred. Especially his face. Shanks had paid a fortune for him, it was his good right to get angry at Benn for damaging himself. Yet, after all this time looks seemed the least of Shanks' concerns. What would he think when he saw what had happened to Benn? Would he mind?

It really nagged him that he couldn't wrap his head around the red-headed Yonko. Thankfully Makino pulled him back to reality. Shanks was a mystery not yet to be revealed.

“If it's not a sunburn what is it?” Her brown eyes looked at him worriedly and something in them made him speak truthfully. So he told her in simple words about the commotion from earlier, the cobra he had freezed and the heat wave that had caught his face. She listened intently and when he was done she simply stated, “You should let a doctor check up on you.”

“Yes, I should,” Benn replied slowly, not sure if he really should go through the hassle of finding the doctor of the castle, tell the story again and probably be judged. He could heal himself, couldn't he? Yet, as if Makino had read his mind, she leaned towards him, hands pressed into her sides. The movement jingled Luffy who murmured but didn't rouse from his sleep.

“Benn, promise me to see a doctor. I know the palace has excellent ones.” It wasn't her insistence but the worry-laced voice that made Benn sigh in defeat. Makino indeed would be a good mother – was a good mother – no matter if she wasn't Luffy's biological one.

“Okay. I promise.” His eyes drifted towards the moon and he wondered what time it was. Not midnight, but late in the evening. “But first I have to find the elderly lady who still has my purchases.” He wondered if her porcelain had survived the tumult or not. He hoped so.

“I would love to accompany you,” Makino smiled, “but I better get this sleepy-head into bed.” With those words she stroked Luffy's cheek and softly lifted him up. His big round eyes opened and he looked at her dazed.

“We have to get going, Lu,” she murmured and the child rubbed his eyes. He would fall back asleep any moment, Benn could see, but Makino didn't seem to mind. “Say good-bye to Benn.”

“Go'-Bye.” The small eyes that barely managed to keep open looked at him. “Will you come visit?”

“Of course.” And Benn knew he would if he found the time. Not that he had any idea if this vacation was a one time thing or not. But Luffy's happy nature and Makino's friendly smile had already enticed him. It was hard to find so much honest kindness. In all his life it had been a great absence, yet Manoas seemed to be a city full of it. For a short moment Benn wondered if its ruler, with his astonishingly different way, was the reason for it. Spreading kindness like a radiant flame.

Chapter Text

He had promised Makino to see a doctor and when they had parted ways his mind had been firm on seeing one. But it had taken him longer than he had thought to find the old lady and get his bag of things. She had been nice enough, but still shocked about what had happened during the day. Most of her goods had been destroyed and while Benn knew he had enough magic to help fix them, the day had worn him out. She hadn’t minded and still, he had used some of his restored energy to repair her most expensive vases. It would give her some support and get her through the fair.

The old lady hadn’t expected him to help. She hadn’t expected anything but Benn knew her whole livelihood was based on those porcelain goods. This fair was probably her biggest income over the year. The joy and wonder on her face was enough payment to make the struggle worth it.

It was after midnight when he was back at the palace. Tired and exhausted, all Benn wanted to do was to sleep. So instead of finding the medical wing, he walked up the stairs into the direction of his room. Lamps casted the hallway in orange light. By now Benn was used to them inflaming whenever a person stepped close by.

He had just rounded a corner into the hallway to his room, when he heard steps behind him. Turning, he saw a familiar redhead coming his way. Shanks seemed exhausted as well, yet when he recognized Benn his mouth turned into a friendly smile.

“Hi,” he murmured, almost shyly. Their conversations still had an awkward touch, because they rarely talked in private. Shanks usually made sure to keep company around and Benn appreciated it. It made him feel safe.

“Hi,” was Benn’s slow response. His brain was mush, too tired to form a well-formulated answer.

“Did you enjoy the festivities?” Shanks asked, “I hope -” He stopped in the middle of his sentence as he came closer and the smile on his face dropped. “By the goddess what happened to your face?”

It was a mere second but in this second Shanks whole demeanor changed from friendly to dead serious. He was with him in three swift steps and for a moment Benn was sure Shanks would touch his face. His arm was already lifted. Yet, he seemed to remember himself. The anger stayed, though, it was visible in his eyes.

“Who did this to you?”

“No one,” Benn answered quietly and prepared himself for the repercussions of damaging himself. It was so ingrained in himself that he would be punished for what he did. It took him by surprise when Shanks just snorted loudly. Even though he should know better by now. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake, don’t lie to me. I can see traces of magic on that wound.”

Benn was too tired to try and find any meaning in those words. He had heard of it, of course. Read about it even more. But in all his life he had never met anyone who could actually see magic. And here Shanks was, telling him he was able to see magic of a spell that had been casted hours ago. It was insane. It had to be a lie. Yet, when Benn thought of how Makino had mistaken his inflamed cheeks for a sunburn, Shanks had to see at least something, to make out the difference.

“I’m not lying,” Benn murmured and was met with a glare. He sighed and avoided those brown eyes that had sought him one too many times. Instead he let his gaze wander downwards. “I did it myself. It was a miscalculation.”

Usually Benn would have managed to avoid the heat-wave but the urgency and being surrounded by too many people hadn’t left him another choice. The heat had to go somewhere.

“We’ll see Doc and while we get there you tell me about that miscalculation,” Shanks said and it made Benn look up. Some of the anger was gone. It had made place for suspicion and curiosity. For a moment he wanted to protest, but then he remembered Makino’s words. It just dawned on him that Shanks was the reason he would keep his promise to her. So he followed the red-head and again told the story about the cobra and the little girl.

It didn’t take them long to reach the medical quarters. Benn had barely finished, elaborating on the spell he had casted to freeze the cobra. Shanks seemed, as far as Benn could assess, impressed.

“Thank you for saving her,” Shanks said, while opening the door. “That’s the second time you saved a child under my care.”

The words touched something deep down in Benn’s heart, but he didn’t know why. Was it because of Shanks’ soft lines, or the way he was looked at? Or maybe it was because the Yonko considered a child that lived in his major city as one under his care. He wasn’t aware of any other Yonko to pay so much attention to their citizens.

Before Benn could muster an answer though, he was distracted by movement. Turning his head, he saw a familiar man walk towards him. He had long blond hair and Benn realized it was the same doctor that had treated him after the necklace had burned up his neck, back then when he had just been bought. He had seen the man now and then in the dining hall, but never gotten to talk to him further.

The doctor looked questioningly from Shanks to Benn. Then he seemed to recognize his burned skin, because he cocked an eyebrow.

“You do realize sun lotions exist?” he commented and Benn huffed in response. It was Shanks however who answered.

“It was a freezing spell gone amiss.” He looked at Benn again, then eyed the doctor. “You can fix that, right?”

“Of course,” the doctor replied and then nodded his head for Benn to follow him inside. “No sunburn?”

Benn shook his head and followed. “No sunburn.”

He had been shown the way to the medical quarters when Roo had given him the tour through the palace but they hadn’t been inside. The chef had only stated that whenever Benn needed something, painkillers for example, or felt sick, he could always come here. The medical quarters were open all day and there was always a doctor or a nurse present to help.

The room they were in looked friendly and open. Pictures framed the wall, a desk stood at the corner, different instruments lay on it. Some of the instruments Benn knew - at least from books - others he had never seen before. There was a sick bed and some stools. Two more doors indicated that many more rooms had to be behind the walls. Probably for the sicker people who had to stay in.

“Sit,” the doctor said and Benn sat on one of the stools. The man took place in front of him. Mumbling words made it to Benn’s ear and he realized that it became brighter in the room. The lamp overhead had been dimmed but now it almost hurt in his eyes. He had gotten used to the orange light of the hallways.

“Can I touch you?” the doctor asked and it surprised him that the other seemed to still remember how Shanks had kept him from touching him back in the tavern. Nodding, Benn prepared himself mentally, both for the touch and the pain that would follow. Yet when the doctor touched his cheek it was soft and ever so gently. His skin rather itched than hurt.

“Minor burn, you were lucky,” the doctor stated and then let go of him. He stood and stepped to a cabinet, opening it to remove a small container. Turning back to Benn, he opened the container to reveal some sort of gel. Benn followed every step with peaked curiosity. Medicine had always been one of his main interests. He never understood why. Maybe it was part of a normal life to have interests.

“I’m sure you want to apply it yourself. It’s aloe vera. Take plenty, it’s growing in the gardens. I will embed a spell that increases your own healing abilities. Keep it on overnight, it’s sticky as hell, but tomorrow your face should be as new.”

While the doctor sat back on the stool, Benn did as he was told. The gel alone did wonders to his itchy skin. It was cool and moist. He was sure that alone would be enough, yet the doctor started to mutter low words. Concentrating on it, Benn tried to follow how the doctor structured his spell, what words he used, what subtle changes Benn could make out that shifted the air like any greater spell always did. He got the gist of it, or so he believed, when the doctor nodded and declared he was finished.

“That’s impressive.” The words made Benn jerk his head. He had forgotten Shanks’ presence completely who had sat on the sickbed watching. Brown eyes sparkled in his direction.

“The spell’s not that hard,” the doctor chimed in, but Shanks only laughed and waved the words aside.

“Not what I meant.” He nodded towards Benn. “He analyzed and memorized your healing spell. Isn’t that what you did?”

Benn just shrugged, trying not to show how astonished he was that Shanks had noticed. “It could come in handy.”

“For you or for someone else?” Shanks asked and the faintest of smirks was on his lips. Something had shifted between their relationship. It wasn’t that formal or awkward anymore than it had been just mere hours ago. Maybe letting someone watch you get treated by a doctor did this to a relationship. Or maybe Benn was just tired of feeling awkward in Shanks’ presence. He was very tired. It had been a long day.

“Both,” Benn answered and snapped his head when the doctor huffed loudly.

“If you try that spell on yourself while you’re hurt I will rip your fucking head off, you hear me? It’s dangerous and risky, not to mention it could make everything worse. I’m your doctor to prevent something like this from happening. So do not even think about it.”

Why Shanks had to burst into laughter at the tirade Benn didn’t get. But he was too absorbed in his thoughts to give it much credit. When he spoke, Shanks’ laughter died down again.

“You’re my doctor?” Benn asked and it only now registered that indeed he hadn’t had to heal himself anymore, but rather he could come here and have a professional doctor do it for him. Who he still didn’t know the name of.

“Of course I am. And now go to bed, both of you.” he demanded and if on cue Shanks yawned loudly.

“From your lips to Maali’s ear. Let’s go. Benn?”

“Yes, thank you, doctor …?” he said, hoping to finally get a name. But the doctor just shooed him out of the room.

“Just Doc. Now, off. Both of you. And Benn, I want to see you again tomorrow to check on that burn.”

When the door closed behind Benn and Shanks, he had to ask. “Is he always that bossy?”

It made Shanks laugh. “Doc? Yes. At least, when it comes to his patients. He’s my main doctor, a very good friend and I would never dare to question him in his medical skills. You better see him tomorrow, or you get scolded.”

And with those words another brick in Benn’s wall fell. He, apparently, had a doctor now, who would scold him if he didn’t care for his health. What a wonder.

When Benn awoke the next morning, sun rays shined through the window. He had forgotten to close the curtains, instead he had fallen into bed and had been asleep the second his head hid the pillow. As his consciousness slowly came to him, he realized he still wore the trousers he had worn yesterday. Standing up, he brushed them off him. He needed a shower.

Opening his wardrobe, he saw that he only had one trousers left, even though he had done laundry last week. It was a topic he tried to avoid, but he realized that he actually needed to buy himself clothes. In his former life - was it really happening that he thought of it as his former life? He still wore that necklace and cursed under his breath, but it did feel like a former life. - his owners had provided him with clothes, mostly because they wanted to decide how he looked. In his twenty-six years he had worn everything, from latex to frilly dresses. A frown showed on his face and he snatched the last trouser and a shirt from the wardrobe. He had no idea how to go shopping for himself. He didn’t even know which clothes he liked for himself.

When he stepped into his bathroom and caught his reflection in the mirror his thoughts about clothes vanished, though. Delicately touching the skin of his cheeks, he realized it was fully healed. Only a soft prickle reminded him of the burn from yesterday. Doc had done a good job.

Even though Benn deemed it unnecessary to steal the doctor's time, he still visited the medical quarters. Doc had been so adamant to see him, that Benn didn’t dare to refuse. He could imagine the man waltzing into his room, demanding Benn to come with him. Somehow the image made Benn smile.

The door to the medical quarters was open, the room Doc had treated him empty. It didn’t look any different from yesterday night, only now a lamp wasn’t needed. It was a bright and sunny day, and the sun filtered through the windows high above. With a knock on the doorframe Benn tried to gain attention.

“Is anyone here?” he called, not daring to step inside. He knew some things would be ingrained in himself forever. Like not stepping into a room without being called in.

After a moment he could hear noises filter through a connecting door inside. “Coming,” was called, then the door opened and Doc appeared. He looked bleary eyed and tired. But a smile appeared on his face, when he saw Benn.

“Hey there, come in,” he told Benn and he did as he was told. Yet, he felt guilt nudge at him because of the image Doc made. He looked tired, as if he hadn’t gotten a minute of sleep.

“I can come later, if it’s a bad time.” But Doc only snorted and shook his head.

“It’s hardly your fault that I was up all night.” Benn wanted to protest. After all, he had come in after midnight. Before he could speak his mind, though, Doc kept on speaking. “One of my patients started to throw up around three in the night. I’m glad she’s sleeping now.”

Benn didn’t know what to reply. Roo had told him that the medical quarters were always staffed, but it seemed he needed to hear it out of a doctor’s mouth to realize what it meant. That indeed always meant that he could seek medical help twenty-four hours a day in this palace. What a blessing for everyone who lived here. What a blessing for him, who had needed and gotten the help of the doctor twice, now since he was in Shanks’ possession… employment? No, he was still a slave. Even if it didn’t feel like it.

With a lopsided grin Doc told him to sit, as he had done the night before. It felt like deja vu when Benn did as he was told. His mind still wrapped around what he had just heard.

“Your skin looks good,” the doctor told him, reaching for a stool himself, to sit opposite of him. “Can I -?” he asked, again and Benn didn’t need to hear the whole question to state a low, but clear “Yes”. He was facing a doctor whose touch was to conceive medical information only. After yesterday night, Benn felt safe around the man.

Soft fingers were placed on his cheeks and Benn could hear Doc mumble a few words. Out of the corners of his eyes Benn saw a shimmer, but it was gone the next moment and he guessed it to be a reflection of the light. His focus was back on the doctor, who leaned back and nodded.

“Healed up all nicely.”

“Thank you, Doc,” Benn told him and then added, as an afterthought. “You really did good work with that spell.” The sequences of the words, the way the spell had been uttered, how the air had shifted slightly kept coming back to Benn.

“You know,” the doctor said, while standing up, “if you’re so interested in medicine, I’m sure you can go into training, if you like. We always need good doctors around and well …” he stopped, then continued more slowly. “You did heal yourself before. You definitely have skills. You could talk with Shanks about it:”

The day in the auction house, when Shanks had bought him, came back and Benn stilled. He doubted Shanks would allow - no. He was a slave. A slave didn’t get education, especially not as long-winded and costly ones as a medicine study. He stood, trying to shake the feeling. Becoming a doctor… while he would love to, he had always known such dreams to be futile. At least for him.

“Thank you, Doc.” His voice was subdued. “I’m…” He wanted to say he wasn’t the right person to be trained as a doctor. Thousands of responses came to mind, why he couldn’t do it, but he knew the only one was the metal around his neck. What slave became a doctor? It was nothing he could speak out loud. “I better get going, now.”

He made his way to the exit, when a voice held him back.

“Benn,” he heard and turned to look at the doctor again. The man’s blue eyes focused on his face, his eyes. Then he smiled and it was so genuine it took Benn’s breath for a moment. “I played with the idea to get into a teaching program to train medicine. If you would like to help me, could I test my teaching skills on you?”

His heart leaped at the prospect. His mind knew what the man did here, manipulating him like this, asking for help to do him a favour. As if he knew how Benn’s brain worked. But with the outcome at hand all Benn could do was nod. A feeling seeped into his soul that he could only describe as gratitude. Happiness. If this was his life now, being surrounded by people that cared, he wondered whether he could accept being Shanks’ slave.

“You’re no slave anymore.”

When was the last time things had made sense? Because nothing of it did. Not with a necklace around his neck that marked him as a possession and could take his life in a second. But at the moment he blissfully ignored the nagging feeling.

“I would like that.”

His eyes darted over the crowd of people in the dining hall. Each and everyone in here trusted him, Redhair Shanks, to keep them safe. Every person in Manoas and beyond. Everyone who lived in his still expanding territory. Sometimes he wondered what made him, a twenty-three year old, into such a special person, to be recognized as someone reliable. He sighed, and pushed the thoughts away. It would drive him insane and he was too tired to focus.

Instead of sleeping, like he had told Benn he would do, he had started making a list of what he needed to do after the tumults at the festivities. While his guards were to keep an eye out for the person who had illegally sold the exotic animals, they hadn’t been found yet. Shanks had only wanted to sort his thoughts, instead he had forgotten time … and well here he was, tired and exhausted.

His heart clenched. It was getting close to a date he dreaded. The anniversary of Roger’s death was a month away and already he started to have sleeping issues. Worse sleeping issues than he already had.

He needed a coffee and he needed it fast.

Walking into the hall, he spotted Doc in a corner. His hands lay around a mug himself and he looked worse for the wear. After Shanks had filled himself a cup of coffee he made his way to his doctor and sat in front of him.

“You look awful,” he stated and Doc only raised an eyebrow, before he harumped.

“Look who’s talking.” He was silent for a moment and Shanks could see in the way he knitted his eyebrows together that his friend was thinking. Or rather calculating. Then he sighed and placed the mug on the table. “If you need -”

Shanks interrupted him. “Not yet.” His voice had a sharp edge, which Shanks regretted immediately. He hadn’t intended it to come out so sharp. “Sorry, I just. It’s a month. I hate that I need those pills.”

Doc's features became soft, then almost teasing. The edges of his mouth curled upwards. “You could try meditation. Heard it helps.”

All Shanks could do was pout. “Of course.” They looked at each other, before simultaneously starting to laugh. When Doc tried to stop, he snorted into his hand which made Shanks laugh even harder. It caused the doctor to laugh even more. They really were tired. It took them quite a while to regain their composure, again.

Just when they had finished laughing, they could hear a loud and happy “Wow” that echoed through the whole hall. Not only them but several eyes darted into the direction of the noise. But the glances turned soft, eyes became bright and mouths giggled, when people saw it was Rika. By now almost everyone in the palace knew and loved the little girl. She had just embraced Benn, her head almost bumping into his leg because of the height difference.

“Thank you,” she voiced, smiling brightly. “Look mommy, daddy, Benn got me a gift.” Well now, everyone in the dining hall knew, too. Shanks snorted, ready to break into a laughing fit again, when he realized how Benn’s cheeks turned a shade redder.

Focused on Rika, Shanks noticed Roo only when he sat beside him, snorting. A small bag landed next to his coffee mug. It was closed with a green ribbon.

“I told him to not only buy a gift for Rika, and what does he do? Buying me a gift as well. Shanks, am I allowed to smack that frugalness out of him?” Roo grumbled and while Shanks had really, really tried hard to stop, he couldn’t. He started laughing again, heavy chokes of laughter breaking out of his rib cage.

“No,” he managed to say between his fits, holding his stomach. “No, you’re not.”

“Hey Roo,” Doc asked. Shanks had left a while ago, eager to start his day, because he knew he had a lot to do. He had heard several booths had gotten damaged during the tumult and he wanted to see if he could help. Not before Roo had insisted on him eating something, though. The chef, who had observed something further in the hall, shifted his attention to his friend.

“Mmh?” Roo replied.

“How’s Benn faring in the kitchen?” Doc knew that Benn had left a moment ago, with Rika and her family. It was the weekend, Benn still had the week off and he guessed they would visit the festivities together. They had become fast friends. Everyone had noticed after Benn’s little rescue mission. It wasn’t hard to miss, the way Rika drew attention everywhere with her cheery but sometimes quite loud attitude. And her attention lay mainly on Benn these days.

“Well, good. Why do you ask?” was his answer and Doc slumped down a little bit in his stool. His thoughts had been stuck on Benn since the man had left the medical quarters.

“Ah, well. He had been in this morning because of a minor burn from yesterday.” Roo just raised an eyebrow at that and Doc sighed.

“The tumults yesterday. Benn had been there and saved a child from a cobra, using a freezing spell apparently. It had gone amiss, the redistracted heat scorching his face. He was in last night, so I told him to come again this morning for a check-up.” He stopped. It went against everything inside Doc to doubt Shanks, a very good friend, the strongest person he knew and a wonderful ruler. But the thought nagged at him.

“I stated he could become a doctor. Ask Shanks if he’s sent to training, like I did back then. But I have the feeling, while he’s interested in medicine, he doesn’t think he’s … I don’t know…,” he stopped, searching for the right word. Yet, Roo just nodded, a little sad frown on his face.

“He doesn’t think he’s allowed.”

“Yes, I guess, that’s it.” He swallowed and closed his eyes just briefly. He was tired. He just remembered painfully, as the fatigue hit him with full force. He needed to go to bed. In a moment he would. “It’s because of that damned necklace. I wish it would come off.”

“If it were that easy, it’d be already off,” Roo stated quietly and Doc hummed. He remembered it so vividly, how Shanks had tried to open it. How something somehow drained Shanks’ magic, his energy and made him collapse. Even back then Benn had had quick reflexes and had helped Shanks, before Doc could. He would be a good doctor. It was so obvious to Doc. It should have been obvious back then.

“I know. I just…” he breathed in deeply, his fingers wrapped around his mug. The coffee was cold, but a rest swapped inside it, with his slight shivering. “I wished he at least knew why it isn’t off.”

His eyes searched Roo’s, hoping to find understanding in them. It felt so much like a betrayal, doubting Shanks’ methods. Doc wasn’t one to do it. He didn’t want to do it. After Shanks had freed him, he had built his life around the promise that Shanks was a good man, who loved his people. It helped him, when memories haunted him. Doc knew, it helped a lot of people here in the palace.

“I know,” Roo whispered after a while. “I know, I wished so as well. I see it everyday on his face. But Shanks... admitting to Benn he can’t open the necklace, would mean admitting to his own weakness. He’s afraid he won’t be able to open it at all, and that’s a possibility… maybe that’s a possibility he has yet to accept.”

Doc shuddered at the words. He suddenly felt cold. “Do you really think he won’t be able to open it at all?”

But Roo just balled his hand to a fist and his eyes gleamed. He did, in fact, know Shanks the longest. He’d been the first slave Shanks had ever freed, shortly after he had been announced a Yonko.

“No! No, I don’t. Shanks is powerful and that necklace will come off. I don’t doubt that. What I wonder, though, is who put it on. Benn’s an exceptional man with a powerful, black magic item chaining him. Whatever happened to him, it must have been bad.”

The words brought a thought, unbidden into Doc’s head, that froze him for a second. Flashes, memories of a time he didn’t want to remember, crossed his mind. Then he reached for Roo and touched his arm.

“We have to talk with Shanks, when he’s back. Because you’re right. Such a powerful item is not normal. Maybe finding who put that necklace on will help put it off. Benn probably knows himself, who did it. Just think of it...”

Because Doc certainly did think of it. Their gazes met and Roo nodded. It was time to finally tell Benn. Now only Shanks needed to see their point. It was his call to tell Benn and Doc wouldn’t, ever, take that from him. It could break their trust. A trust he wasn’t willing to give away.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t even midday and yet there were already a lot of people visiting the different booths and stands of the festivities. They would become more as the day progressed, Shanks knew and yet it always made him smile to see so many different faces smiling, chatting and having fun. It was his hometown, his main city and he wanted the people to have a good life here. Days like these, around Fireblossom Day, catered to it.

As he made his way to the place where the illegal pet trader had set up and the tumults had started, he tried to organise in his head what he had to do. They hadn’t found the person yet, who sold those poor animals and Shanks wasn’t sure if they would. His guards were on the lookout but the city was too full with all these people coming from far and near and it was easy to vanish in the crowd. He hated that people like such a man could get away but that was life.

What was easier was to look after the sellers whose booths had been damaged. Yesterday his guards had noted the complaints and had checked if anyone had been seriously injured. Thankfully with a few scratches here and there the only one who’s taken a more serious injury seemed to have been Benn and he seemed alright in the morning. Thank the goddess for Doc’s healing salves.

As if on cue Shanks’ thoughts drifted to the man and he reflected on the happenings of last night. It had been a marvel to watch Benn analyze Doc’s spell as if he’d done it his whole life. The intelligence that must slumber underneath that calm facade was enormous, Shanks was sure of it. But what had warmed him even more was that they had been able to banter. Just a little, enough to lift the awkwardness, but not enough to… absentmindedly he played with the ring around his finger. The ring that marked him as Benn’s owner. He wanted to get that damned necklace off, see Benn smile and maybe, maybe one day Shanks could call Benn a friend.

His traitorous mind conjured an image of Benn’s face. Black hair framing an angled face, with beautiful grey-blue eyes. Something Shanks didn’t dare to name made his stomach flutter and he sighed. Wanting to call Benn a friend was selfish enough and everything else was just a reminder that he hadn’t been laid in too long. He was a Yonko for goddess’s sake. He had work to do.

It had taken Shanks a lot longer than he had wanted to, to assess all the damages of yesterday's tumults. Mostly it was broken wares which could be compensated. Some he had been able to repair with magic, some people would need financial support. He had told those people to speak with Yasopp to get some money to help get them through the next few weeks and months, once his friend would be back from picking up his wife and son.

It was a shame that Yasopp was away just when Shanks needed his finance minister. Yasopp didn’t want that title, but who liked numbers anyway? He didn’t know who else would want it and more importantly be at least halfway decent in the position. Yet, Shanks couldn’t be mad. Yasopp’s wife Banchina had been ill for the longest of time and they had finally found a Doctor who specialised on her condition and could help her. She hadn’t been able to live at the palace for quite a few months but now that she would be back, he knew Yasopp would be all the happier for it. And if his friend was happy, Shanks was as well.

He took a deep breath and as an answer heard his stomach growl. Doing his duties had made him forget he was hungry but now he realized it with a pang. Thank the goddess he was surrounded by vendors and quite a lot of them sold food. He wasn’t too far from the middle of the city, their big marketplace and the heart of the festivities. Checking the sun it must be around two or three, way past lunch. Time for some snacks.

A grin slipped on his face as he walked through the crowd, having people greet him. His red hair marked him unmistakably as the Yonko he was and he could hear people start to talk, whenever they realized who had stopped to visit the fair. When he reached the center Shanks spotted a vendor that sold the best Samosas of the whole festival. At least in his honest opinion.

“Something to eat for his highness?” the vendor asked when he spotted Shanks, but there was a grin on his face.

“Oh, stop the formalities, you fiend,” Shanks grumbled and the other laughed in his face. He knew Zeff for ages. He had come to eat Samosas here at the festivities way back when he had lived with Rayleigh and Shakky in Manoas and Roger had still been High King. So much had changed since then. Zeff had taken in an apprentice and Shanks had become Yonko.

“Oj, boy, two,” Zeff looked at Shanks, assessing him and then seemed to change his mind, “three samosas for our guest.” A young blond boy that Shanks spotted just now started to grumble something but got to work. He must be said apprentice.

“Long day?” Zeff asked, but before Shanks could answer he heard someone shout his name with glee.

“Shaaaanks.”

Turning around he had just enough time to recognize black hair and big round eyes before he had an armful of child in his arms.

“Hey Luffy,” Shanks laughed and let the boy back down to ruffle his hair. “How are you?”

“I made a new friend,” Luffy exclaimed, eyes bright and a happy smile on his face. “She’s super nice and Makino let me go with her and her parents to see the show and then they bought us candy and - oh are those Samosas? Can I have some?”

Zeff had just put the three Samosas in front of Shanks on the ledge before him, that separated him from his customers. Without saying something, the chef just grinned like the devil he was. Taking one of the three dumplings for himself, Shanks took the tray to give the other two to his small friend. Before he could order more, he heard a familiar voice call, “Luffy?”

Turning around he saw Makino’s green hair and a searching gaze first. “Here,” he called, knowing very well Luffy was in his own world, already having eaten one of the Samosas. Only then he recognized the person next to her and something in his heart clenched. Benn. When had he gotten to know Makino?

He couldn’t take his eyes off of them, as they spotted him and walked in his direction. Benn had a bag in his hand, his posture was … different. Relaxed. That was what it was. He looked relaxed and at peace next to Makino, who Shanks knew since he was little. They looked… good together. It was easy to imagine Luffy in their midst. It was easy to imagine them as a little family and Shanks hated himself for the thought, because it hurt something deep in his chest and he hated himself even more for being hurt.

Benn didn’t need a man like him, whose life was chaotic and full of responsibilities Shanks sometimes didn’t know how to fulfill. He didn’t need politics, power struggles with the other Yonkos and leading a country. He surely didn’t deserve a necklace laced with black magic even the most powerful man Shanks knew didn’t understand and for the goddess Benn didn’t need Shanks’ jealousy. Makino was one of the sweetest people Shanks knew. If Benn ever wanted to pursue something like a romantic relationship, she would be quite right for him. If... Shanks wasn’t even sure with a history like Benn’s if it was even something the other man would ever consider.

“Look, Rika and her parents are with Makino and Benn,” Luffy said between bites and then shouted, “Makinoooo, Bennnn, Rikaaa.” Only then Shanks spotted Ririka, Kai and Rika - the family that had gotten so enamored with Benn after his little rescue mission. They had been a little behind but now waved at Luffy, who waved back. Shanks squashed his thoughts about Benn and put on a smile.

“Zeff… I think we need quite a few more Samosas,” Shanks said. His response was a deep laugh.

After breakfast Benn had gone out with Rika and her parents to take part in the festivities. Kai had told him that there would be a special kids’ programme at the stage where Benn had watched the theater group yesterday before the tumults had started. They wanted to visit it and Benn didn’t mind accompanying them. It delayed his task to find clothes for him. He had so few pieces in his wardrobe that he had to do laundry twice a week and that was not sustainable in the long run. He was just clueless where to start looking. He wasn’t even sure if he had bought clothes for himself, ever. That was not something a slave usually did for himself.

Quite by surprise they had run into Makino and Luffy. First of all Luffy had been overjoyed to see his new friend again, but swiftly found that Rika was the more interesting person of the group. After some small talk Makino had gotten out of Benn that he needed new clothes and offered to accompany him. A friend of hers had a store and Ririka and Kai had happily agreed to watch Luffy for the few hours they would be away.

He hadn’t wanted to admit it but Makino had been a great help in picking out some shirts and trousers for him. Her friend didn't have that much in his size, because he was quite tall but she promised to order what he liked but didn’t have in stock in his size. In the end he could buy two new trousers and three more shirts right away and had a dozen more pieces on the way. That was more clothes than he had ever possessed and his head still spun to know he had enough money to buy all of it, with some to spare.

They had met Luffy, Rika and her parents back at the stage where some troupe bowed and the crowd clapped cheerily. They had been just in time, it seemed, for the children’s play to finish. While Makino talked with Kai and Ririka, Benn listened to Rika tell him what the play was all about. Only when Rika was done did he realize Luffy was gone.

“Makino?” Concern lazed his voice and it seemed Makino had realized her charge was missing, too, because she scanned the crowd.

“Luffy?” she shouted, stepping next to Benn. “He can’t be far, he’s not the type to run away.” Before Benn could shout as well he heard a familiar voice. Then he saw Shanks, which took him by surprise. The red hair was unmistakable, shining like a beacon and even though Benn hadn’t expected him here, the other man looked like he belonged. Like it was a sure thing that he, as a Yonko, ate some street food at some of the biggest festivities of his main city. Benn didn’t think he could ever feel so secure in his own body.

Benn was stopped in his track of thoughts when he heard his name being shouted. Only then he saw Luffy, standing next to Shanks, seemingly eating something. Blinking, he looked from the child to Makino who had already started walking towards the duo. He caught up to her.

“I didn’t know you knew Shanks.”

It made Makino laugh. “Since forever, it feels. I grew up with my Grandma who owned a tavern here in Manoas. Partys Bar, best bar in town, or so everyone said. When the grown ups talked we hid under the chairs and tables. Shanks is Luffy’s godfather.”

Benn tried to imagine a small Shanks but somehow it didn’t work. Maybe because he didn’t really know the man. He had no idea if Shanks would have been a quiet child or a rascal. Benn knew Shanks carried a lot of responsibilities as a Yonko, he had seen him serious but last night, bantering in the medical quarter, there had been a different side. He remembered the feast on the Red Force, where Shanks had danced with some of the children, slaves back then but they could forget for a day. There were so many sides Benn didn’t know about the person who … carried his owner’s ring. Maybe one day he would find them out. He realized he wouldn’t mind finding them out.

“So his parents allowed him to accompany him to a bar?” Benn asked, now quite curious but Makino just shrugged. “I guess you can call them that. It was a different time.” Before he could ask more, Benn realized Shanks would be able to hear them speak, so he dropped the subject. Not that he really wanted to, but he figured it wasn’t polite to talk about someone in front of them.

“You acquired quite the group,” Shanks grinned and then Benn watched him hug Makino. The way they touched underlined what Makino had said about them knowing each other since they were children. It was with a familiarity Benn hadn’t experienced ever. He felt a pang, but squashed the feeling immediately. Today wasn’t the day to dwell on his past. He knew he hadn’t ever gotten the chance to get to know a person long enough to form such a trusting relationship, but he was here now. With astonishment he realized he was surrounded by more people he could at least call friendly acquaintances - and he had a suspicious feeling that at least Kai and Ririka would be quite mad at him for not calling them friends - than ever before in his life. No, today was not the day to dwell on his past. 

“Well, Benn seems to have a habit of walking into me and Luffy. The children became quite good friends, too. Can you blame me?” Makino joked. At the words Shanks looked at him and when their eyes met Benn shuddered. Shanks’ eyes were bright and as always seemed to look deep into his soul. His smile was bright and warm and there was something in his gaze Benn couldn’t quite place.

“Not at all,” Shanks said and then reached for what Benn now realized were Samosas from the vendor behind him. “I hope you’re hungry.” There were quite a few Samosas, too.

“Samosas!” Luffy shouted and made grabby hands at the food. It made Benn laugh wholeheartedly, as did the rest of the group. For today, Benn decided he would try to just enjoy what he currently had.

“I haven’t seen you look at someone like this since the day you introduced me to Marco.”

The words made Shanks jump a little. He had just finished convincing Zeff that yes he would pay for the Samosas and no, he would not take them for free, not even as a friend and especially not because he was a Yonko. Turning, he looked into Makino’s face who watched him with a knowing expression. Suddenly he was quite glad that Benn and the rest had already made their way back to the stage.

“I have no idea what you mean,” he said and schooled his expression, forbidding himself to turn red. He would not have this discussion.

“Please, Shanks. I know yo-” Makino started but Shanks interrupted her, quite sharply he realized. “No, Makino, you don’t know.” His mood had been quite good until now, but suddenly he remembered Benn’s face again, when he told him he would always be a slave. He remembered the tears, when all the necklaces had come off but for Benns. No. If Makino had seen something, he had to control his expressions more and stop his stupid heart from putting thoughts in his head.

“He’s quite the nice, intelligent man and very handsome. Why for the goddess’s sake would you forbid yourself some happiness?” Makino asked, incredulous. Somehow it made Shanks’ even angrier. Maybe because she was right?

“My happiness? Makino, he’s been a pleasure slave all his life. My happiness doesn't matter. Not in the face of his pain.”

The moment he said the words, Makino’s emotions seemed to deflate. He saw her bite her lips, as if she wanted to say something but she didn’t. Maybe that was for the best. He was a Yonko, he had to protect the people under his care and he couldn’t allow himself to fall into selfish desires. Especially not as long as Benn still had that damn necklace around his neck. With a pang Shanks realized he had to stop putting off telling Benn why he still had to wear it. He hadn’t wanted to admit - mostly to himself - that he wasn’t strong enough to take the necklace off. But he should. Because not telling Benn the reason was as selfish as wanting a relationship with the man - as friends or more, it didn’t really matter. Maybe Benn would hate him after the talk. Maybe he would go, Shanks surely wouldn’t stop him. But keeping it off, letting Benn think he was still a slave for selfish reasons went against everything in Shanks’ nature.

“Tell the rest I said good-bye, will you? I have work to do.” With those words he turned around and went into the direction of his palace, leaving a worried looking Makino behind. His hand wandered to the metal around his arm, to Roger’s heirloom that he had left in Shanks’ care. It felt cold on his skin. Everything suddenly felt colder.

When Shanks entered the palace, he still didn’t have a plan beyond knowing he had to talk to Benn. He would wait until the other entered his room, then Shanks would knock… well and what came beyond that point still escaped the Yonko. What would he do in Benn’s stead? What would he think, what would he say and most importantly, what would he want from Shanks? What could Shanks arrange to make the realization that the necklace would stay more bearable? He didn’t think there was anything. The thought taunted him.

It was almost a relief to see Doc and Roo come for him. Whatever they wanted, at least it would distract him.

“Can we talk?” Roo asked, “in private?”

Something in the voice of his chef made Shanks alert, though. Talks in private usually meant serious business and it felt strange to do them without Yasopp, whose opinion Shanks treasured as much as those of Doc and Roo. Nonetheless, he walked with his two friends to his study and made everyone sit, even though his nerves felt like ants under his skin.

“What do you want to talk about?” Shanks asked, putting a smile on his face to ease the quite somber atmosphere.

When he heard Doc’s answer, his smile fell, though. This day just didn’t stop. When did it ever?

“We wanted to talk about Benn.”

“We think,” Roo chimed in, his voice more serious than it usually was, “you should tell him about why you can’t open that necklace. Maybe…” The chef drifted off, like he didn’t know how to continue and before he could Shanks sighed.

“I already decided to do that, anyway. Tonight.”

He hadn’t expected the astonishing looks from his friends. He wasn’t sure why but it hurt a little. Had they thought he would protest? Had they thought he wouldn’t see reason? He was quite aware that he had acted selfish and he wasn’t willing to continue. It wasn’t the way he wanted to lead this palace or his lands. Gulping down the lump in his throat he tried to keep emotions out of his voice.

“I was selfish to keep it from Benn that I’m not strong enough to open his necklace. He should know it’s not his fault and I will tell him again he has all the options as all the others I freed. Including to go, if that is what he wants…” His voice died down. He knew he didn’t want Benn to go. He wanted to get to know the other one, see him smile. Make him smile. He wanted to call the man his friend. He wanted to… he wanted too much, is what he wanted and he was well aware of it.

“Shanks, that is not what I meant!”

Shanks' head snapped up, when he heard Roo say the words with more force than he usually spoke. His chef looked grim, as did his doctor.

“We don’t want Benn to leave,” Doc continued in Roo’s stead. “We want this damned necklace to come off.”

“Don’t you think I don’t want that, too?” Now even he got loud. What had gotten into everyone today? First Makino, now Doc and Roo.

“Then stop doubting yourself, Shanks! You’re the strongest person I know. Your magic is more powerful than what I can even imagine. When you freed me you sent a hundred men to the ground. You put up protective seals around the whole city, after Roger died.” Shanks blinked, because he hadn’t realized Doc knew that. But after Roger’s death the seals of the high king had vanished and Manoas’ people needed protection. It was a reason he had become Yonko, to protect those he loved. “You became a Yonko. You were only eighteen back then…” Doc’s speech which had started heated became quieter and now Shanks could watch him shudder. He looked close to tears. “Goddess you were only eighteen.”

“Don’t…” Shanks whispered. He knew he was quite too young to rule. He didn’t know enough, wasn’t strong enough, even if his friends thought otherwise. He… he just wasn’t Roger.

“Shanks. Tell Benn about the necklace and maybe he can tell you who put it on.” Now it was Roo again who had shaken his head and stood up. It seemed he had too much restless energy and needed to walk. Shanks felt quite similar, but at the same time like all his strength had left him. “If you can’t open it, with all that power you possess the one who cursed it must be quite the powerful man, too. There aren’t that many people out there who match your strength. It could help to know who did it. We could find him.”

Finally it dawned on Shanks in what direction his friends had wanted the conversation to go. And maybe they were right. Maybe it would help to know who put the necklace around Benn’s neck and cursed it. Maybe the one who put it on could take it off. But maybe, maybe it didn’t matter, because it didn’t change the fact that Shanks just wasn’t strong enough. He remembered Rayleigh telling him he was the only one who could take it off. Maybe it wouldn’t help at all to know who cursed Benn’s necklace.

Suddenly he felt very tired.

“Can you … Roo you’re close to Benn. Can you be there for him after I tell him? I think he will need someone.”

Roo just nodded and that was enough for Shanks. He pushed himself up. “I’ll take a break. I - thank you for looking out for him. Thank you for helping.” With those words he left his friends alone. He needed at least a few hours of sleep before Benn came back, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to after the talk.

Doc watched Shanks leave his study, saw the red hair sway slightly before the door fell shut. It was way too quiet after he was gone. He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“This didn’t go well.” He said and saw Roo shake his head. “You know, I think I just realized how young Shanks is. He was eighteen when he became Yonko. He had the responsibilities of a whole territory on his shoulder at such a young age. It’s so easy to forget it under his cheery nature and his selfless willingness to help everyone that he is still extremely young. Yet, it’s so hard to help him…”

“Yeah,” Roo agreed. “It’s nothing he ever learned. To accept help.”

Chapter Text

It was late when Benn stepped into his room. After Shanks had left to continue working, Makino had invited Ririka, Kai, Rika and him into her home. They had played board games with the children until they both were drowsy. Then when both Rika and Luffy were asleep, the adults continued to chat and while the rest had even drunk some honey wine, Benn had refused. He wasn’t even sure when the last time had been he had had alcohol and he didn’t know how his body would react to it. Maybe he would have, in the palace, close to his room. But not when they had to make it back. Which was probably why he had carried the sleeping Rika back to the palace and not her parents. He honestly didn’t mind.

Now, after putting the girl in her bed and saying goodnight to her parents, Benn stood in the darkness of his room. Light from outside, the moon and some lanterns shimmered through the window and made everything look grey. His eyes needed a moment to adjust, because while in the halls the magical lanterns spent light, Benn didn’t have such a commodity inside his room. He jawned, put the bag with his clothes on the stool in front of his desk and went to brush his teeth.

He usually didn’t like to look into the mirror, because all he saw was what others wanted to have. But in the comfort of darkness and only making out scant lines he didn’t feel sad or angry. Today had shown him how much his life had changed. Makino had given him a hug when he left and told him he was always welcome to visit. Ririka and Kai had let him carry their daughter to bed. If this was his new life, having… friends. He couldn’t find it in him to feel bad about himself. With or without that necklace around his neck.

Maybe… maybe he could muster the courage to just… ask Shanks… why. The Yonko hadn’t done anything to make Benn believe he wouldn’t answer or do him harm. He certainly didn’t have the desire to use his power over Benn. He had bought all of them Samosas today. He was a very generous leader. Not only in spending money on food.

Benn was still deep in thought when he went back into his room to change into his night clothes with the intention to go to bed. A whimper however pulled him out of it and he almost jumped out of his skin. Then he heard it again, louder this time. When it made its way into his room the third time he realized it came from Shanks’ adjoining one. What was going on?

It was close to midnight, Benn knew, and Shanks should be sleeping. Frozen in place he didn’t know what to do. He waited for a moment and just when he thought the whimpers were gone, he heard a fearful “No”. It was so laced with sadness and pain that Benn couldn’t help himself. He watched the door that connected his room to Shanks’. Since the day he had been given this as his room the door hadn’t been opened. He wasn’t even sure if it wasn’t locked. But stepping out of his room, just to enter Shanks’ from the hallway seemed silly. He was already only a few steps away and it didn’t need much to press the handle. The door opened smoothly, without making a sound.

“Please, no.”

Benn had never heard Shanks this broken. It was the first word that came to his mind. He looked around and only barely registered the chaos that was different but the same since the first and only other time Benn had been in Shanks’ bedroom. Clothes on the floor, his sword leaned against the wall, heaps of paper on a desk and Shanks, in his bed, sleeping on his side, red hair covering his face, hands balled into his blanket and knees pulled up to his chest. Suddenly Benn felt like an invader. What was he even thinking?

“Don’t, no, please.”

Shanks was having a nightmare and Benn couldn’t watch. It was absolutely insane, highly inappropriate and with every other owner Benn would have been punished for daring to enter his master’s bedroom. But something inside him wanted to ease the pain that he could clearly hear. And see. Because Shanks’ body was whacked with fine tremors, too.

He kneeled in front of Shanks’ bed. He didn’t know what to do next but another whimper gave Benn a push. He would not do nothing.

“Shanks?” he called, but the other man didn’t seem to wake. With a careful touch Benn brushed some red strands out of Shanks’ face and a part of his brain realized how soft the hair was under his fingers. “Wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”

Another whimper could be heard that Benn shooed away with a sedated voice. “It’s okay. Nothing can hurt you.” Shanks looked way younger than he was, nothing reminded of the sheer presence he usually possessed, of the self-assertion, the way he could command a room with a smile. He looked small and so different from Rika, the child Benn had just put to bed. It was the difference of a life filled with pain and happiness. Then Shanks’ lids fluttered and slowly he opened his eyes.

He had wanted to wait for Benn, but the day had been long and Shanks was dead tired. Of course, when he had left Roo and Doc with the intention to sleep, it hadn’t come. He had tossed and turned in his bed and after an hour had given up. The stacks of reports and his desk taunted him and because he wanted to wait anyway, Shanks made it his mission to tackle them. But when the sun had set and the words danced before his eyes, he gave up. There was only silence in Benn’s room. Maybe, if he just slept for an hour? He would hear Benn come back and he really needed sleep, or else he would crash, right here over his papers, with his head on his desk top.

He fell asleep and the nightmares came. He was fifteen again. The marketplace that today had been filled with vendors was now filled with people, looking at a stage. On the stage was a man Shanks knew all too well. Loved so dearly. Knew was sick. It didn’t matter and yet it mattered, because the people behind that man had swords in their hands. They spoke about treason, about the use of black magic and all Shanks could do was watch with horror. He tried to shout. He tried to tell everyone that it wasn’t true. That Roger had never used black magic. That Roger only wanted to protect his people… wanted to protect Shanks. But nobody was listening. Nobody heard him. No one stopped the men on the stage to lift their swords and …

… a voice called to him. “It’s okay. Nothing can hurt you.”

He slowly opened his eyes and needed a good moment to shake off the nightmare. His head hurt, his limbs felt like they were filled with lead and it was still dark in his room. It was the reason he didn’t realize the figure in front of his bed immediately. Something, like the ghost of a ghost, reminded him of a soft touch on his face.

“Are you awake? You had a nightmare.”

The voice was gentle and familiar. It clenched something in Shanks’ heart and then he realized Benn was kneeling in front of him. The man looked worried, in casual nightwear, a loose fit of clothes around his body, his hair a messy bun on top of his head and in the darkness of the night, only illuminated by the moon through the window, soft and elegant. A pang of shame crashed through Shanks when he realized what the other must have witnessed. He pushed himself up, feeling shaken and embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” Shanks got out, his voice strange even to his own ears. It was still rough from sleep and husky. He tried to get a grip on himself. He wasn’t sure whether he succeeded. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

Benn still looked at him, his eyes as grey as the night. Moonlight reflected off of them but it didn’t hide his frown. “You haven’t. I just came home.”

“Oh,” Shanks whispered, almost involuntarily. “You went out with Makino?” Another pang that Shanks couldn’t escape from. It was too soon after the nightmare for him to be able to control his emotions. Benn’s answer however was calm and content.

“She invited Kai, Ririka and me after you left. Luffy and Rika became fast friends. None of them wanted the other to leave. It was quite endearing.” Even through the darkness Shanks could see how Benn looked up, into his face. He felt vulnerable. He felt seen. He felt his nightmare make way for the mystery of the night. There was a slight pause in Benn’s answer, before he said, almost wonderingly. “I think I made friends.”

“I’m happy for you,” Shanks answered and he was. It was good to hear Benn seemed to have finally found his place here in the palace, or at least in Manoas. The city had a charm that took people in and made them want to stay.

“Thank you,” Benn replied and then added, “I’m sorry you couldn’t stay.”

The words took Shanks by surprise. He blinked, trying to see Benn’s expression more clearly in the night. There was only truth in his eyes. “Would you have wanted me to stay?”

Silence surrounded them. Benn didn’t answer right away. Shanks could hear his own heart beat in his chest, and then felt it stop, before it tumbled, only to go on beating.

“I would have liked that, yes.”

Benn didn’t know what made him speak so freely, but he felt safe in the night. He usually wasn’t so forthright with his emotions but he had just witnessed Shanks have a nightmare and yet, the other man hadn’t sent him away. Benn had seen part of his vulnerability, so maybe he could show some of his own.

Neither of them spoke for a while until Shanks took a breath and sighed. “I wanted to talk to you, actually. But it’s late.”

“Will you be able to go back to sleep, if I leave you?” Benn asked and had to stop a smile when Shanks seemed to look at him incredulously. Then the other sighed again and rumpled his already messy hair even further. Benn didn’t know why but he decided it looked good on Shanks. Not the rings under his eyes though. Benn could see them even in the darkness.

“Probably not, to be honest. I don’t sleep well this time of the year.”

“You can tell me, if you want,” Benn said and wondered where he took the courage to say such things. But he didn’t want to send Shanks into another nightmare and if he could help by listening he would. He wouldn’t be able to sleep, hearing Shanks’ whimpers all night, anyway. “I have time.”

Shanks only blinked at him. “It’s late.”

“I don’t have to work tomorrow. I can sleep in,” Benn replied. Maybe it was quite late and the hour allowed him to be so forthright. But deep down he knew it was because Shanks wouldn’t mind the banter.

“You know, I hadn’t thought you’d hide such cheek under your calm demeanor.” With those words Shanks pushed himself further back until his back hit the wall and he sat comfortably on his bed. It gave Benn a moment to look at the other. Shanks wore simple clothes, similar to his own nightwear. His hair was mussed, he had rings under his eyes but he looked more awake than just moments ago. As if the claws of whatever had bothered him in his sleep had loosened just enough for Shanks to shake them off. Then the redhead patted the empty space next to him. “Get off the floor. It’s a long story and your knees must hurt.”

Now Benn was the one to be surprised and he was glad that the darkness hid most of his shock that surely was written on his face. He hadn’t even registered that he was still kneeling in front of the other. It hadn’t crossed his mind to change anything about it, too. But if it would, he hardly would have chosen to get on Shanks’ bed. It seemed… inappropriate. “Are you sure?”

“Benn,” Shanks’ voice suddenly became soft. “I don’t let my friends sit on the floor. Come get comfortable.”

He took a shaky breath and then stood up. “I would like that,” Benn said.

“What?” Shanks asked. His voice was genuine, so Benn wanted to give a genuine answer.

“Be your friend. I would like that.” With those words and Shanks’ soft laugh he sat next to the Yonko, the man who owned him and yet, hadn’t used that power even once. Instead he had called Benn a friend. It sounded so much better than slave.

“I would like that as well.”

Shanks wasn’t really sure how they had gotten to this point, but here he was, telling Benn about Roger and how he grew up with the man who had been his adoptive father. He had a very attentive listener in Benn, who was mostly silent but to ask questions. All of the questions were intelligently asked and only served to let Shanks open up even more.

“I’m really sorry that you had to witness your father die,” Benn said, when Shanks had finished explaining that he had been in the crowd, seeing Roger get executed by the government and that it was, usually, what he relived in his nightmares. “No one should see his parents get murdered.”

Benn’s voice was laced with sadness and pain, more than Shanks had expected. There was something in its edge that he couldn’t quite place. But it was very late and maybe he imagined it. It was hours after midnight, probably closer to morning than night.

“I … it’s long in the past,” Shanks tried to ease the mood but Benn just huffed.

“Not long enough if you still have nightmares about it.”

Shanks couldn’t argue with that and slowly slipped a little down the wall he was leaning against. He counted the specks of light on the ceiling, to distance himself from the words he was saying. “Doc usually gets me sleeping pills around his death day. But it’s a month away and I hate that I have to take them. I wish I could just stop…” Shanks lost his trail of words. Stop having to take sleeping pills. Stop having nightmares. Stop feeling so helplessly lost and alone. All were true.

“Empathy is nothing you should stop,” Benn said with a low voice. Shanks felt fingers brush his. It was barely a touch and yet, it made his whole body shudder. It was the first time Benn had touched him. His eyes got big as he looked at the other man. Sat back up straighter. Tried to see all of him in the night. Some strands had slipped out of Benn’s messy bun and played around his face. His eyes shimmered in the darkness of the light and his expressions were soft. Goddess, Shanks realized, he was beautiful. “I have seen people without it and I’m glad you’re nothing like them.”

Shanks gulped at the words. He could see that the scarf Benn wore and hadn’t taken off since Shanks had gifted it to him had slipped off a little. The necklace was visible under the fabric and shame rose in him. He was tired, he was ashamed and he had to finally say his part.

“Don’t be glad…” He knew he had to tell Benn the truth. It could cost him the small trust he had just gained with the other. It was a relationship Shanks deeply wanted. But this honesty, these following words, they were more important. Maybe this had been the shortest friendship Shanks had ever experienced. He really hoped not.

“When I bought you,” he started and felt the other man next to him stiffen. He didn’t dare to look at Benn. Couldn’t muster the disappointment. He had to say his piece first before his courage left him. Red hair fell in front of his eyes as he looked down, away from Benn. “When I bought all of you, all I had in mind was to free you. It always is.”

Something shifted in the air and Shanks saw, even though it was dark, the colors of his own magic appear in front of him. They swayed around his head and the next moment something heavy fell onto the bed. Cold metal touched his leg.

“But the moment I slipped your ring onto my finger I felt magic so powerful and dark, I knew you were different. Your necklace is different.” His fingers closed around the metal he had just called with his magic and the edges cut into his hand. “Someone put a curse on your necklace, Benn. It’s black magic and prevents me from opening it. Everyone tells me I’m powerful, but I’m too weak to free you and I'm sorry. When Roger freed me I promised myself I wanted to be the one, one day, who helps other slaves. But I can’t help you and I hate it. I don’t know how to open your necklace, Benn. I am sorry.”

In his hand he held the necklace he once wore on his own. It was what had marked him a slave, once, before Roger had gotten him free, gotten him another life. He had conjured it, a reminder why he was doing what he was doing and a memory to never stop stepping into Roger’s footsteps. But he let go of it, and only realized he was crying silent angry tears when Benn stared at him in shock, saying incredulously, “You said you were only eight when Roger found you.”

Shock stopped his tears. What?

“That is what you take away from it?” Shanks blurted out. What was wrong with this man?

“What else am I to take away from it?” Benn stared at the necklace on the bed like it had bitten him. “You just told me you’ve been a slave yourself. You … you were eight and gave yourself such a promise. No wonder… I hadn’t made sense of it, but now I understand why you chose to buy us without any rhyme or reason. Goddess, Shanks.”

The words took Shanks by such a surprise, he didn’t know what to say. He had just told Benn his necklace was laced with black magic and the man wanted to talk about the age Roger freed him?

“Can we come back to ‘that is what you want to focus on’?” Shanks said, frustration lacing his voice. Why didn’t Benn understand? “I just told you I can’t open your necklace. I can’t free you!”

“I understood that.” Benn answered resolutely. “It’s okay.”

“What?” Had Shanks not dared to look at Benn before, now he couldn’t look away. He was trapped in the moment, trapped in the way Benn watched him, took him in.

“It honestly just makes sense. I wondered why you didn’t take it off. You not once gave me the impression you’d like to use your power and I couldn’t fathom why. Why keep the necklace on but not use it? Use me? But if you want to take it off but can’t, it all makes sense.” Had Benn’s voice sounded almost angry now it became softer and thoughtful. “I guess you really never saw me as a slave…”

“No I didn’t… all I want is to be your friend.” This time Benn didn’t just brush his fingers. This time he took Shanks’ hand and held it. It was dark around them, only the moonlight spent some light. But Shanks had gotten used to it and could clearly make out how Benn smiled at him.

“You are, if I can be yours.”

Chapter Text

“It’s late,” Shanks said, after a moment of silence. And it was. If he had to guess, he’d say it was around four or five in the morning. Roo would be up in an hour or so, to start breakfast for the palace. He hoped his chef had gone to bed, even after Shanks had told him to look out for Benn. But that had been when Shanks had thought he’d had his talk with Benn much earlier in the day. It had also been, when he had still thought Benn would be heart-broken. Now, they were friends. How had that happened? “We should go to bed.”

Benn shifted next to him. Even though he tried to hide it, Shanks could see that Benn had problems keeping his eyes open. Learning to hide your emotions was something a slave learned very early on. He wasn’t sure how long Benn had been enslaved, but the way it had been so ingrained in his self - the way he had spoken “I will always be a slave” back then made Shanks guess since childhood. When you grew up in slavery, you one day believed it to never change. Shanks had been a lucky exception to get off his necklace before it could become part of himself.

“Will you be able to sleep?”

The words made Shanks blink. It was hard to keep his eyes open but he was used to going on minimal sleep. His brain was just a little sluggish. Maybe he was tired enough to catch another hour or so before another nightmare would hit?

“I actually don’t know. Probably, yeah… maybe?” No matter what, Shanks should at least try.

“You don’t sound reassuring,” Benn mused and then yawned. It was almost funny to watch Benn catch himself, cutting it off as fast as it came. But only almost, because it reminded Shanks that it was a habit born out of pain. You didn’t show how tired you were as a slave, either.

“I don’t need much sleep,” Shanks said and that was a lie. The way Benn looked at him, Shanks knew Benn knew that as well.

“Is there something that helps?” Benn asked. “You know, with the nightmares?”

“The sleeping pills,” Shanks admitted. He didn’t like to take them, but he couldn’t deny that they helped. Most of the time, at least. “I’ll get them tomorrow. It’s too late for them now, anyway. They’ll knock me out  for quite a few hours. I can’t… It's too late. Or too early. You know.” He pointed at the window. By now the light had become brighter. The sun was on its way to rise and shine. It was still quite dark, but the pitch black night was over and the sun had conquered the moon.

Benn hummed. It was a low hum, like he didn’t quite like the answer but didn’t know how to argue against it. With soft movements he pushed himself out of Shanks’ bed and stood. But before he went back to his own room, he turned again and his gaze made Shanks shudder. Yet, he kept silent.

“You know I won’t stop trying to take your necklace off?” Shanks felt the need to say. He wouldn’t stop trying until that damned thing was off around Benn’s neck. But until then it was good Benn knew why he still had to wear it. A small smile slipped on Benn’s face and he yawned again, this time not breaking it off.

“I guess I figured. Good night, Shanks.” With those words, Benn vanished behind the door connecting their rooms.

Shanks had indeed managed to catch another few hours of sleep before knocking pulled him awake again. He groaned, rubbed his eyes and realized it was bright in his room. Squinting against the light he pushed himself into an upright position. He didn’t have a headache and he didn't have another nightmare. All things considered he had slept worse. Another knock sounded through his room.

“Come in,” he called and then caught himself. “Quietly.” He really hoped the knocking hadn’t woken Benn, too. It was Doc who made his entry.

“Hey Shanks,” his doctor said and Shanks was grateful he had lowered his voice. “Roo wanted me to check on you, because neither you nor Benn had shown up yesterday.” He was biting his lips and Shanks realized the other was worried. It warmed his heart to know he had friends who cared for him. And for Benn. “He’s still busy with cleaning up breakfast.”

How long had he slept? It must be longer than he thought because breakfast stopped around ten, so if Roo was already cleaning up, it meant it was past ten.

With a smile Shanks regarded his doctor, who had closed the door behind himself but hadn’t further entered the room. His blond hair was put in a ponytail and gloves stuck out of one of his trouser pockets. It had become such a habit of his to always have gloves ready. “Is there still some for me?”

“Breakfast?” Doc asked and it made Shanks grin to realize Doc was irritated. “Probably?”

“Let’s get going then,” Shanks said and swung himself out of bed. He needed a shower and should probably change into different clothes, but what he wanted more was a coffee first. “Roo needs to save some for Benn, too.”

“Have you two talked?” Doc finally dared to ask. Shanks' grin melted into a smile.

“We have. We’re friends now.”

The sun was shining through the windows, the air smelled sweet from the flowers blooming outside. The nightmare that had tormented him was a ghost, almost forgotten. A mug of coffee was calling his name and he had friends that cared for him. One was sleeping next door. It was all Shanks needed for it to be a good morning.

It was past lunchtime when Benn woke up. He would have loved to keep staying in bed, but hunger swiftly made him change his mind. While he brushed his teeth he remembered the happenings of last night. He had learned more about Shanks’ past than he had ever imagined and some … well no, most parts still shocked him. He would have never believed Shanks to be a former slave. He would have never believed Shanks to be High King Gold Roger’s adoptive child. Somehow the least shocking thing was the black magic that apparently hindered the other man from opening his necklace. At least one thing made sense.

While Benn believed Shanks, he still straightened the red scarf around his neck that hid the necklace. If other people saw the metal around his neck they would ask questions and Benn wasn’t willing to answer them. Not until he had more information. It would raise questions about Shanks’ strength, too. In the known land blood didn’t matter. The people of Manoas and Shanks’ territory wouldn’t accept Shanks as their Yonko, as their ruler, if he wasn’t powerful. It didn’t matter that he was raised by the former high king. If you didn’t possess power, you’d not make it in this world. Doubt about a Yonko’s strength could lead to people thinking they could claim the throne and that always led to war. Shanks was too good a ruler and Benn had to admit, too nice. People were happy. He didn’t want a war. No, his necklace had to stay hidden for a little while longer.

He’d make his way to the library after he ate something. With swift movements Benn put on clothes and started to walk to the dining hall. He’d see what he could find out about black magic. About strong black magic. He wondered why him? But no matter how hard he tried, his mind was blank. He sighed and while he walked the halls his mind shifted back to last night.

Shanks had conjured his former necklace out of thin air. Yesterday night Benn hadn’t given it much thought but now he pondered the magic behind it. Usually a place switching spell needed two objects to work, but Shanks had neither seen, nor held anything to trade place with what he conjured. It was astonishing. But what was even more astonishing was that he had done it while he had talked about something else. People needed words to anchor their magic in this world. Precise words. For a moment Benn stopped in his tracks. Just how strong was Shanks? And in conclusion, just how strong was the black magic on his necklace when someone as powerful as Shanks couldn’t open it? Some memories tried to surface but before he could grab them they were gone. All that was left was a headache.

“Only you…” Doc exclaimed, his voice a mix of irritation and adoration, “only you can go into a discussion afraid to lose someone and come out of it making a new friend.”

The words made Shanks laugh a little. His grin was mischievous. “I want to state that most of it was Benn’s doing, not mine.”

He had told Doc and Roo about his late night talk with Benn. Not in great length but by now they knew the gist of it. Doc had also noted Shanks’ nightmares and Shanks was sure he would find a bottle of sleeping pills on his nightstand by the evening. But for now he shoved those thoughts away.

“Have you been able to ask Benn about who put the necklace on,” Roo wanted to know. They sat at one of the tables in the dining hall. It was empty save for them. Lunch was over, the kitchen had been cleaned, Shanks had even been able to shower. Instead of breakfast, Roo had saved a plate of fruits and sandwiches for Benn, who hadn’t shown up for breakfast nor lunch. Shanks was glad Benn could catch up on lost sleep.

“No, I honestly forgot, but I can ask him later,” he said. “I actually wanted to try to take that damned necklace off again.”

It made Doc perk up and he looked at Shanks with concern. “You sure about that? Last time you lost consciousness.”

Shanks was well aware of it and yet, he needed to try, at least to understand the structure behind the curse so one day he could open it. The time to be afraid was over. If brute force didn’t work, maybe meticulous analysis would. Not something he was the best in, but for Benn he would try. “I will stop before that happens, I promise.”

But Doc insisted, “Let me attend. I don’t want to…” He didn’t finish his sentence because the door to the dining hall opened. While Shanks trusted all his people he still didn’t want Benn’s condition to be common knowledge. At least for now. Gossip wouldn’t make the situation better for any of them.

“Did I interrupt you?” It was Benn. He looked a little bleary eyed, but only a little. Maybe it was something only Shanks saw, because he knew when the other man had gone to bed.

“No, actually we were talking about you,” Shanks admitted and beckoned Benn closer. The other did follow the call. Roo however stood up and vanished into the kitchen. Probably to make some coffee and get Benn food.

“I’m somehow not surprised you know,” Benn said as he sat next to Doc. It made Shanks blush, just a little bit. He hadn’t considered what Benn thought about the others knowing about the necklace. Hiding things from his best friends just wasn’t in Shanks’ nature.

“Only Roo, Doc and Yasopp know,” Shanks said and Roo chimed in, coming out of the kitchen again. In his hands a tray filled with food. “And we won’t tell anyone.” He placed the tray in front of all of them, put a plate with sandwiches in front of Benn and a bigger plate with fruit in the middle of the table. Next he filled a mug with coffee and handed it to Benn who took it with a thankful expression. Shanks noted how Benn let his eyes slip from one to the other until he landed on him. His eyebrow rose, he took a sip of his coffee. Shook his head a little and Shanks sighed silently when Benn smiled. The man was a wonder.

“You should really reconsider not calling them your ministers.”

It made the table explode in laughter.

“Would you mind, if I tried again to open the necklace?” Shanks asked into the silence that had formed after their laughter had died down. The words made Benn blink and he looked at Shanks, irritated.

“Why would I mind if you want to try to take off what literally enslaved me all my life?” What kind of question was that? It only dawned on him when Shanks answered.

“Well last time I tried it burned your neck.”

“Oh, well…” Benn had actually almost forgotten about that. With all that had happened on the day Shanks bought him it felt like a minor detail. “To be honest I don’t think it was a reaction to your spell, but mine.”

“What do you mean?” It was Doc who asked the question. Benn plucked a grape from the vine and popped it into his mouth, chewing and swallowing, so he had time to think. He couldn’t quite explain it.

“When Shanks lost consciousness I used a spell to transfer some of my energy to him, to stabilize him. I have done that before… but usually my intention was different.” How could he phrase something he didn’t quite fully grasp. All of the others looked intently towards Benn, waiting for his further explanation. “Magic reacts to the way we tap into it.”

“Words,” Roo murmured, almost to himself. Yes words, but they were only the pipes, so to say, which transferred magic from within you to the outside. A carriage. Benn had read so much about magic, because he had wanted to understand his own, trapped behind the metal of his necklace.

“It’s more than that.” The assurance in Shanks’ words halted him in his thoughts. “It’s words, but it’s imagination as well and what you want to say is more important than how you say it.” For a moment Shanks’ eyes seemed to look into the distance then he was back with them. “At least it’s what Roger always told me.” Shanks looked at Benn. “I think I have to be even more cautious if the black magic is reacting to our intention. If what you say is true. And I have the suspicious feeling you’re right.”

“But…” Doc stuttered. “But, how can that be? It goes against everything I learned in medical school. We were told… I learned all my healing spells by heart. I learned to methodically follow the structure, the procedure and I have seen what happens if you don’t. Every word matters.”

Again, it was Shanks who answered. “You also told me you learned not to treat people you love in medical school. Ever wondered why that is?”

Benn could see Doc’s mind reeling. The way he slumped back in his chair was a telling sign. “But, but. I treated you before and Yasopp and … I care about everyone in this palace.” Shanks smiled and put a hand on Doc’s shoulder, turning towards him.

“That is why you are not only a good doctor but a great one. I don’t know anything about medicine or the human body. But inside you intention and ability align. I’ve seen you do your job. You have the knowledge and the empathy to create healing spells no one has ever seen. There’s a reason I encouraged you to go to medical school.”

While Doc seemed like he needed time to process the words, Shanks looked back to Benn. “I think we should move this into my study. Let’s try to open that thing one more time.”

They did move to Shanks’ study. Benn didn’t know what he had imagined, but it wasn’t this room. It was quite dull, to be honest. Nothing inside spoke of Shanks’ person. There was a desk, some chairs. A divan, a couch and a smaller table in the middle of the sitting area. At the moment a pitcher with water and a few glasses stood on it. Some bookshelves lined the walls, but the books were either classics or about politics. No photos, no personal belongings, nothing of the chaos that was Shanks’ bedroom. “You’re not inside here often, are you?” Benn murmured and it made Shanks’ laugh.

“I try to avoid it,” he admitted amusedly. “But no one ever comes here, so we won’t risk being disturbed.”

“I see,” Benn said and sat on the couch when the rest did so, too. He turned to Shanks who looked at him and slowly wrapped the red scarf off his neck. It felt strange to not feel the soft fabric on his skin. He had gotten used to it and without it Benn felt naked. “Do I need to do something?”

“No, just stay silent so I can concentrate. Unless the necklace does something. I don’t want to risk hurting you.”

Benn could watch Shanks focus on the metal. For a moment nothing happened then he felt the familiar way the air shifted. Without saying anything Shanks was using magic and it astonished Benn. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Doc and Roo give each other confused glances but they kept silent, complying to Shanks’ wish. Benn ignored them in favor of concentrating on the feeling of the magic in the air. The hair on his arms raised with the intensity of it. The air felt thick and saturated. He even imagined he saw swathes of color, but he wondered if it was a trick of light. They were there and then gone again. No, he probably just imagined them.

“Show me,” Shanks murmured under his breath. Something in the way the air shifted felt different than before. It made Benn get goosebumps and he took in a sudden sharp breath. What?? It felt like instead of shifting, the magic was flowing. “Come on, show me!”

Shanks’ voice had gotten slightly angry and Benn could watch him play with the ring he wore. He spun it around and around his finger, probably absentmindedly. Then suddenly he stopped, the flowing became like a crash and Shanks fist slammed onto the couch. “Fuck!” he yelled and before Benn, or anyone, could react Shanks slumped onto the floor.

Doc was up in an instant. “What happened?” he yelled but Benn found it hard to focus on the doctor, when he felt like he was trapped in a wave, magic crashing around him from all sides. Then it was gone and Shanks’ voice sounded lowly to his ear. “I’m fine. I am fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Doc muttered under his breath as he helped a visibly shaken Shanks back onto the couch. Roo already poured some water out of the pitcher into a glass.

Shanks' hand was still balled to a fist but he opened it to take the glass and the water shook slightly when he drank from it. “What just happened, Shanks?” Roo asked. “You barely said anything and then you’re suddenly on the floor. What did you even do?”

It took a moment for Benn to realize that Roo must not have felt anything of what he had. He looked at the chef with incredulity. “What do you mean? Did you not feel… his magic filled the room and then. What do you mean?”

“You felt it?” Shanks asked and Benn’s eyes snapped from Roo to Shanks. Thankfully the redhead looked miles better than just seconds ago. He had been white as a sheet but the color slowly returned to his cheeks. With a pang Benn realized all this happened because of him and this damned necklace. Shanks had been seconds from losing consciousness, again. Benn didn’t want that. He didn’t want Shanks to get hurt in the process of trying to open it.

“Shouldn’t everyone? You filled the whole room with your magic,” Benn said and looked from Shanks to Roo to Doc. How could they not have felt the air shift? Flow… Shanks’ magic somehow didn’t only shift it flowed Benn suddenly realized.

“Well, I sensed some of his magic when he said ‘show me’,” Doc admitted and Roo nodded, “but - i mean, he didn’t speak.” Doc turned to Shanks who was surprisingly silent. “You didn’t speak!” Now Doc sounded incredulous, like he had just realized Shanks had used magic without using his voice.

“I don’t have to,” Shanks murmured and then grinned apologetically. It made him look much younger but also much more alive and that was quite a better look on him than the shakiness from before. Benn decided he liked it. “It helps me focus to not say the words but direct them by sight.”

“By what?” Doc said but Benn interrupted him. “So you do see magic.”

He had guessed it, when Shanks had seen the magic on his face, when his spell had gone amiss. When every other person had seen a sunburn on Benn’s face Shanks had been able to see the magic. It felt strange that that had happened just, what, two days ago?

“I always did.” Shanks said and leaned back on the backrest of the couch. The glass was still in his hand, but it felt forgotten. He placed it on his leg without letting go of it. “Since I can remember. It’s something I was born with.” Then he placed the glass back on the small coffee table in front of them and turned to Benn. “But you did, too.”

“No, I didn’t.” Benn watched Shanks furrow his brow at the words.

“But you just said -” he started and Benn finished his sentence.

“- I felt the magic. I can’t see it. It’s the shift in the air that I feel. But you must see the words.”

Shanks blinked and then shrugged his shoulders. “I do. I see the words in all the colors of the rainbow. The colors usually make sense.” Then he turned back to Benn. “You could probably learn to see them. I know Rayleigh learned it from Roger.” Roo made a sound, like a surprised hiccup and Shanks shifted his gaze to the other two. “You both can learn it, too. If you want to.”

“If we want to…” Doc muttered under his breath and then shook his head. Some of his blond strands fell out of his ponytail. “You know what? That’s a discussion for another day. First and foremost I want to know why you landed on the floor. You almost lost consciousness, again. I’m your doctor and I want to know what caused it, so I can hinder it from happening, again!”

“But I stopped beforehand,” Shanks said, almost pouted. Benn had to hide a grin but knew Doc’s anger was valid. Goddess, if this was what would happen, was it even worth it to try and open that necklace? 

“Shanks!” Doc almost shouted and it made Shanks slump a little more into the cushions.

“Yes, yes,” he said and then sighed. “I realized within seconds that I wouldn’t be able to open the necklace. That curse is … old. I tried to read it, maybe understand it but it has multiple layers. The first one makes it seem like any other slave’s necklace but beneath it is more. I scratched the first layer off. It showed me pain.” Shanks’ voice shook and he looked at Benn. His gaze made Benn shudder. “How often have you been sold?”

Benn shook his head. “More times than I was willing to count.” His answer made not only Shanks curse.

“Fuck. The burning. Each time you were sold the curse stole some magic from your old owner and channeled it into the necklace. I think it fed off of them to keep the black magic alive, maybe make it even stronger. But such magic needs a prize and…” Shanks stopped and sighed. Benn suddenly knew what the prize for such deeply haunting magic was. “... it’s your pain.”

“So you’re telling me you found all of this out, by only muttering two words and there is more?” Roo asked. It was almost deadpan, but there was a slight edge to it. Shanks laughed bitterly.

“I found all of this out before I said anything. I tried to dig deeper when I said ‘show me’ but my magic slipped. I hate that. It’s just … so much sometimes and then I can’t. It’s like - it sweeps me away and I had to simultaneously separate everything from Benn, so it wouldn’t hurt him and I had to control the curse. I slipped for just a moment and the curse immediately sucked my energy in. I tried to prevent it but I… my grip was gone and I rather stopped than let it take me in.”

Benn stared at Shanks. He half-mindedly realized he wasn’t the only one. The other half of his mind tried to make sense of what he just heard. A thought slipped into his head and refused to leave. But that couldn’t be! It would explain why, though. But…

“How old are you, Shanks?” Benn murmured, not sure if he wanted the other to hear. But Shanks, of course, did.

“Twenty-three, why?”

That was way too old. There had to be another explanation. There had to be. Even if this day had already revealed more than Benn had ever thought knowing. His grey-blue eyes found Shanks’ hazel ones. He scanned the other, his lips, some slight stubble, the three parallel lines over his left eye - scars, from where Shanks had gotten them, Benn didn’t know - his red hair falling onto his forehead. Shanks was not old. But for this twenty-three should be too much.

“Benn?”

“Have you…” Benn shook his head but then said it anyway. Even if it was insanity. “Have you come off age, yet?”

Chapter Text

“Have I come off age yet?” Shanks asked and then snorted. It felt wrong. Benn knew it was a strange question to ask, but with everything that had just happened it shouldn’t be. Somehow he didn’t know what to think anymore. “Of course I have. I mean. Everyone did at this age.”

“How old were you when you did?” It was Doc who asked. He gave Benn a look that made him realize that the doctor had been able to follow his train of thought. There was recognition in his expressions and Benn was glad that at least he wasn’t the only one thinking insane things.

The question made Shanks visibly falter. He reached for his glass on the coffee table, stopped, opened his hand and closed it and then shook his head. “Seventeen? Eighteen? Somewhere around there I guess.”

“You guess?” Now even Roo looked at Shanks with furrowed brows.

“I must have missed it,” Shanks said, way too casually. Roo snorted, Doc made a face and Benn could only blink. Coming off age was not something anyone missed. Even with wearing his necklace and always feeling like his magic had been muted because of it, Benn had vivid memories of the day he had come off age. He had been sold, again and had tried to heal his neck. Usually he had to concentrate hard to not mess the spell up. The older he grew the harder it got to keep his magic in check. In theory he knew it was because it still kept growing. In reality, only when he had come off age had he begun to understand what that meant. One moment his magic was like a wild beast, then there was a rush, his vision darkened for a second and the next moment the wild beast had turned into a … not a pet, never a pet. But a languid, strong partner. Healing himself since then had never been a problem again.

“What?” Shanks' voice had turned from casual to irritated. “You come off age between fifteen and eighteen. My life had been quite eventful around that age, sorry for missing it.” Now he sounded angry. Benn could understand that, because Shanks was right. With what he had told Benn yesterday night, those years had been full of misery and change for Shanks. Yet. You just didn’t miss coming off age. You just didn’t.

“Shanks,” Doc said and his voice was soothing, like he wanted to calm a wild animal. “That is not how it works.”

“What are you talking about? I never heard of anyone coming off age later than eighteen.” Shanks stopped himself. Then he crossed his arms in front of himself. “Well maybe except Roger. But he was High King.”

Benn had heard the rumors that Roger had come off age quite late. Some said he had been twenty-five, others claimed he had been thirty. Some even whispered he never had come off age and his magic grew and grew indefinitely which was why the government had executed him. Benn hadn’t cared too much. Gossip was usually just words and lies. Rich people often needed to talk about something outside of their circle because of their own boring lives. Now however he was quite curious, because Shanks had known the man. Roger may have told him when he had come off age.

“Did he explain to you how it feels to come off age, too?” Doc asked, still with a soothing voice. Shanks’ brow furrowed like he was in thought but Benn noticed he stopped crossing his arms as well and relaxed a little more into the couch.

“He said it feels like your magic is finally working for you instead of against you. But mine does. Work for me I mean.”

Benn sighed at the words. That was an explanation and it wasn’t wrong but it didn’t even scratch the surface of explaining how it felt to come off age. Or magic in general.

“You seem to disagree,” Shanks now looked at Benn. His sigh must have been louder than he thought.

“I don’t disagree but I would have explained it differently,” Benn said and Shanks made a gesture to indicate for him to go on then. “Think of magic like water. Inside you is a basin and this basin gets filled with your magic when you grow up. It pours and pours and your magic gets stronger the older you get. But because of the pouring there are ripples in the water that is already inside the basin. The more water gets poured inside of you the harder it is to tap into your magic and control it. When we cast a spell or seal we want to control the magic. We want to control which ripples we make. But that is hard when there is something else causing ripples as well. Some people only have one constant stream, some people have more than one which makes it harder for them to control their magic while they grow up. When you come off age, it stops the pouring of magic inside you. It’s like pipes are getting shut. Your basin is full. The last splash crashes into you - and then everything is calm.”

When Benn stopped his explanation he saw Doc nod and Roo chimed in. “That is actually the best explanation I’ve heard so far.”

“It’s why medical school only accepts people who have come off age,” Doc said. “Not because you can’t cast magic until then but because it’s so hard to control it. As a doctor I wouldn’t want to hurt anybody or myself because I can’t control my magic.”

“You said your magic slipped. It’s why I asked, Shanks,” Benn tried to elaborate how he had even gotten the thought. Shanks’ expressions had gone through a row of emotions, but now he was shaking his head.

“But I can control it.” Shanks looked at him and there was doubt in his eyes. “I’m twenty-three. Eighteen should be the latest…”

“Well, I was twenty when I came off age,” Benn admitted. He always attributed that to his necklace to be honest.

“Fucking shit, really?” Roo exclaimed, shocked. “No wonder you could resurrect that flower.” Rika’s flower. Roo meant Rika’s flower Benn had brought back to life. He had almost forgotten it.

“No, that’s…” But Benn couldn’t think of an argument against it. Wasn’t that some revelation of its own he had to think about? “I always thought my necklace compromised my magic’s growth.”

It was Shanks who shook his head. “No, you are powerful Benn. When I put the owner’s ring on it blocked quite a bit of your power. You’re more powerful than me, or else the ring wouldn’t do that.”

But… that didn’t feel right. Benn had seen what Shanks could do. The way he had summoned his necklace yesterday night. The way he had analyzed the curse without saying anything. There was no way Benn was stronger than Shanks.

“Check that again.”

“But…” Shanks started but stopped. The air shifted, this time just a little bit. Magic. Then Shanks’ eyes became huge. “Fuck!”

Things did not make sense anymore. Shanks stared at the ring on his finger like it had betrayed him. He was so sure, when he had put it on, that it had blocked some of Benn’s power. Now he couldn’t say that for certain, because it simply did not. At least not anymore.

But that either meant his power had outgrown Benn’s in the span of about two months, which would mean his friends were right and he had not come off age yet. Which was crazy. He was twenty-three. Or… or the ring blocked something else. Shanks didn’t know what he should believe anymore. What was this ring? This necklace? What kind of black magic was embedded into it?

He considered Benn’s explanation. It made sense how he had compared magic to water. What made no sense was for it to ever feel calm. His magic wasn’t calm. It never had been. It felt like… yes like water. But not like a basin, but more like a river. His magic always felt like it was flowing and shifting and turning and sometimes it was too much for Shanks to steer it in the right direction. Maybe Doc and Roo and Benn were right and he had not come off age. But that meant… Shanks didn’t want to consider what it meant.

Unbidden, he remembered a conversation with Roger. He had tried to fix a broken mug that had slipped through his fingers. It hadn’t worked. Instead of getting angry, like Shanks had believed Roger would be, he had told him ‘Don’t force your magic, boy. It will find its way, if you just let it flow.” He had asked what Roger meant but the man had just laughed. ‘You will find out when you come off age. You’ll be quite powerful, I’m sure.” After that conversation Roger had helped Shanks fix the mug and explained to him the concept of coming off age. Shanks had been barely nine and not yet realized how strong Roger was. For him the biggest revelation on that day had been to not get punished for breaking something.

“Roger was twenty-one, when he came off age,” he said into the silence, to no one directly. He just tried to sort his thoughts. “I… you really think I haven’t come off age yet?” Now he looked at his friends again. Really looked. They nodded.

“If you haven’t felt it, Shanks, I’m quite certain you did not,” Doc even said and Shanks let himself fall back against the backrest of the couch. He was tired and a headache was starting to form.

“Can we, I don’t now, postpone this topic until… until I at least spoke with Ray? There is still something inherently strange about the curse.” Which wasn’t a lie. When Shanks had just probed at the connection between him and Benn - the connection of an owner and his slave - he had felt it blocked … something. It had to do with Benn’s magic, Shanks was certain about at least that, but it was not the power. It was different. Everything about this damned necklace was different. His eyes fell on Benn. Grey eyes looked back. He was powerful. He was smart. He was Shanks’ friend and he wore a necklace like nothing Shanks had ever encountered. “Who put that necklace on you Benn?”

Maybe it would help to know. By now Shanks was certain that it wasn’t a coincidence that Benn wore this special necklace closed by a curse. Something must have happened. He gulped when Benn’s eyes became dark and sadness enveloped him like a blanket.

“I wish I knew,” Benn said and shrugged his shoulders, almost helplessly. “But all I remember is that I was almost five, it had been a rainy day and whoever did it murdered my parents.”

The silence was all-encompassing and Benn hated it. He hated the way Roo, Doc and Shanks stared at him, he hated the way their shock morphed into pity and he hated that he knew his story was one out of many.

He had to scold himself when Roo muttered “My goddess” under his breath because it was unfair to think it was pity when by now they had shown him that they didn’t pity him. Benn’s mind knew that what he could see on his new friends’ faces was compassion, but it was so damn hard to accept when he had never in his life been shown just a sliver of it. There came Shanks and had turned his life around. But his heart was slow and he hadn’t adjusted to all the new revelations. It was easier to focus on the facts at hand and not the emotions that wanted to surface. More time needed to pass until he could accept the truth that stood in front of him.

“I…” Benn didn’t know what to say. Trying to remember hurt and the more he forced it the more his thoughts shut off. The day his parents had died was just - black. He really really hated that, too. With it he had lost his parent’s faces, their voices and most importantly his childhood. He didn’t remember anything except small fractions. A house. Laughter. His surname.

“Breathe, Benn,” Shanks whispered and only when Shanks said it again did Benn realize he was shivering. “I’m here. You’re here. You’re safe. Breathe.”

“Fuck,” he muttered and did what Shanks told him to do. He took a breath. Then another one. And another one. When had been the last time he had struggled to breathe? When had been the last time panic had snuck up on him without him being able to push it back down?

Maybe when his life had been normal and he had still been a slave? A slave with no emotions and no mind of his own, which had been expected of him. But he wasn’t that kind of person anymore. Fuck that necklace around his neck. Fuck that he couldn’t remember. Was the pain better than not remembering? He couldn’t say. He didn’t know any different.

He took a sharp breath and closed his eyes. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize,” Roo answered and Benn looked at the man. A man who had taken him under his wing and who had helped him adjust. The man who he worked with side by side since coming to the palace and who Benn suddenly realized he knew - a lot of. He knew what kind of spices Roo liked, how he drank his coffee and what his favorite kind of hummus was. But he didn’t know where Roo came from.

Shanks freed slaves because he knew what it meant to be enslaved. The way Roo and Doc looked at him, Benn wondered if they knew, too? Probably, because it wasn’t pity in their eyes but compassion.

“You were too young to lose your parents,” Doc said and sighed. “You were too young to be forced into… that thing.” Benn hadn’t put his scarf back on. He somehow didn’t feel the need to. Not yet, at least.

“Weren’t we all?” he mumbled and Roo snorted at his words.

“I was fifteen and starving. My parents had died of illness, I became a street-rat and not a good one. Becoming a slave at least meant food. I’m forever grateful Shanks freed me but I’m well aware I would have died had I not been captured by the press-gang.”

It was hard to hear the words but Benn knew that was a common outcome for a lot of homeless people, especially children. He had been in enough houses and seen enough slaves to know Roo was not a one-of-a-kind. Even his own story probably wasn’t. Parentless children made good slaves. Maybe not in Shanks’ territory though. He doubted Shanks let it come so far.

“And I was a slave for only five years. I had fallen out of luck shortly after Roger’s reign. Met the wrong people, placed my trust in up-to-no-gooders, ran out of money and one thing led to another. Would I have had money… but then I wouldn’t have met Shanks, wouldn’t be here and by no means be a doctor.” Doc had seamlessly picked up where Roo had finished and by now gave Shanks an almost sly smirk. “Well, and Shanks here wouldn’t have been able to whip some asshole’s asses.”

“Doc!” Shanks reprimanded but he was grinning shamelessly. Benn wanted to hear that story. Maybe not today. But one day. He understood what the others wanted to tell him. They knew what it meant to be a slave. Yet, his situation had undoubtedly been more dire than theirs.

With a sigh Benn closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. “I remember I was almost five because I had asked my parents about the gift I would get. I desperately wanted to know, but my mother told me I needed to wait a week. That I would get my present when it was my birthday and not before. I was so mad. Stupid, thinking about it now. I also remember it was raining because it was such unusual weather for the season. I think wherever we lived back then didn’t get much rain. But that is basically most of the common land, so it could have been anywhere. I was playing outside, in the puddles. I heard screaming and…” Benn had to stop, because his mind became foggy again. It was hard to even get this much out. It had been ages since he had thought of that day. Ages and ages and seemingly a lifetime ago. When he opened his eyes he immediately found Shanks’ gaze. It wasn’t demanding, it was open and promised him to keep his story safe. Like he had kept Roo’s and Doc’s story safe, too. Because he intimately knew how it felt to have his life turned upside down.

“... I think I must have ran inside. But I don’t know for certain. After that everything is … blank. I just remember so vividly how I cried that week later, on my birthday, because I knew my parents were dead and I would never find out what they wanted to give me.”

“No one should see his parents get murdered.” The sentence echoed in Shanks’ mind over and over again as he listened to Benn’s story. He’d known there had been something in Benn’s voice when the man had said those words. He only wished it wouldn’t have been… this. This much cruelty and this much madness. Goddess, he was angry. He was angry that such inhumanity existed, he was angry that it had led to so much pain in the other man’s life and he was angry for the five-year old boy who had to watch his parents die. He couldn’t change the past, but he sure as hell would make the present better. At least his present, the territory of his lands and the lives of the people under his care.

He stood up. He just couldn’t sit any longer. He needed to move and even though there wasn’t much space, he took the length of the room in a few strides. When he reached the wall he turned around. His gaze met Benn’s.

“I hate to ask,” Shanks said and his voice sounded strained. “But is there anything else you remember? A face, a voice, who you’d been sold to, after that day? Something, anything?”

In spite of his ire Benn seemed to shake the memories off of himself and his voice was steady and clear. It calmed Shanks down immensely. “Oh, I can tell you that,” Benn said and continued, “I lived with the same family until I was sixteen. Rosenthorn. They are a noble family in Kaidou’s era.”

Finally something to go by. A name. A family name was all he needed to find the connections that hopefully would lead to whoever had enslaved Benn. Which in kind should help to get that damned necklace off!

“But I’m not sure if that information is of any use,” Benn kept on saying. He sounded tired. Which was understandable with all the revelations the day had presented them. Shanks was tired himself, but he was also angry and he wanted to do something. This information was a starting point and he may be young, but he was still a Yonko. He had resources to take a name and find out their connections, their whole background and their grandmother’s cat name, too. “They seemed afraid of whoever killed my parents - and I know it wasn’t them. When they sold me. It was strange. I never found out what had happened. I didn’t quite care, to be honest. Now I wonder if I should have.”

Shanks furrowed his brow at that. It was Roo, though, who asked, “Why?”

“I - they had a son. Still have, I guess. He’s three years older than me. Theodore. I was mostly made to be around him. Keep him company, take his blame.” That made Shanks hiss through his teeth. He knew all too well what that meant. If that Theodore misbehaved it had been Benn who was punished. Hits on the hand with a ruler for not doing your homework. No food the next day for not sitting still at dinner. Black eyes for running your mouth. Shanks knew what it meant to take the blame for a noble child because he once had to endure it himself. Until Roger. He pushed the memories aside, but the anger stayed. This time not for himself but for Benn. “Help him with his studies. He wasn’t the smartest and his private teacher took a liking to me. Maybe because I remembered my letters unlike him.” Benn smirked. It was such a fleeting expression but it was devilish and Shanks adored him for not hiding it. Then Benn's smirk fell. “When he became older he took quite the… shine on me. Or maybe he realized I couldn’t say no and I was a good substitute for his lack of other bedmates. Whatever it was, when his parents found out, they were furious. I remember the shouting, I was sure I would get the beating of a lifetime, but instead he was forbidden from touching me. They were scared of something… or someone. I’m not sure why, but the Rosenthorns started to view me differently. I could see their looks and I knew there was gossip in the household. Theo was about to be sent to boarding school and I to attend to him. It never came to it. Instead one day, out of the blue, they took me to the nearest auction house, told the auctioneer I was to be sold as a pleasure slave because ‘I knew how to whore myself out’ and I never saw them again. Since then I was sold and resold times and times again. I don’t think I ever stayed in someone’s house for longer than six months.”

Benn heaved when he had finished his tale and fell back against the backrest of the couch. With one of his hands he rubbed his face. Shanks wanted to hug him, spend some comfort but he knew that it wouldn’t be welcomed. Not after what he had heard. Not if that had been Benn’s life up until two months ago. Instead he sorted his swirling thoughts into something of a plan.

“Benn,” he said and Benn looked at where he was still standing. “Would you mind shortening your vacation break?”

The irritation was palpable but Shanks had to hand it to Benn because the other didn’t even hesitate in his answer. “No, of course not.”

“Good,” Shanks smiled, but it was not a friendly smile. “Because I need you to cover for Roo in the kitchen while he’s finding out everything about the Rosenthorns.”

“Oh how exciting,” Roo exclaimed and while nothing had changed in his demeanour Shanks could see the glint in his friend’s eyes. “Haven’t done that in a while!”

Chapter Text

“Benn, how many eggs do we still have?”

“Roughly three cartons,” Benn answered without needing to check. He was standing with Raki, Roo’s assistant, in the kitchen, heads put together over lists and recipes. It had been five days since Roo had gone on his mission to find everything out about the Rosenthorns. Benn was glad about it, after all Roo was gone because of and for him, but it made Benn also realize for the first time how much more than just cooking Roo did.

“I don’t ask anymore how you just know,” Raki murmured and then scratched her head. She was a tall woman with black hair which she usually put in a half-ponytail to keep the strands out of her face while cooking. While she knew her way around a kitchen, Benn had gathered over the course of the last hour that keeping stock of the - mind you very large - inventory wasn’t her strong suit.

“I was in charge of the scrambled egg this morning,” he dead-panned, but without any heat behind his words. It had the intended effect and made the woman laugh lightly. Again, she scratched her head, pulled one of the recipes closer and scanned the ingredients.

“Touché,” she said, almost absentmindedly and then sighed. “I don’t think we will have enough eggs for the egg salad and quiches and scrambled eggs tomorrow if we don’t buy some.”

Benn had assumed as much by now. While Roo had given them clear instructions of what to cook for the first three days, he was gone longer than he had wanted to and Shanks had told them it would take even longer still. They had to make up their own mind on what to feed the people of the palace and while Raki didn’t lack ideas it was the budgeting for them that gave Benn and her a headache.

“We can’t afford that.” They really couldn’t. While they got roughly forty eggs a day from their own chickens it wasn’t nearly enough for the mentioned meals they had intended to make. Benn had found out with horror that the monthly budget the kitchen was granted had been spent almost completely and it wasn’t even the middle of the month. “We would need…,” he started and then stopped to calculate in his head. “... at least ten cartons and that would be more than double of what the budget allows. We also need to buy at least three more sacks of flour to get to the end of the month and we’re running low on sugar and beans.”

“How do you even know all of that?” Raki asked, voice laced with incredulity. It could be mistaken for harshness but Benn knew it was the frustration speaking not her being angry with him. “You didn’t even check the pantry.”

“I’m just good with numbers,” Benn answered the question and while it wasn’t a lie it was also maybe downplaying his abilities to memorize things a little bit. He was good with numbers. He liked numbers. Numbers didn’t lie and didn’t judge and you could rely on them. But he was quite aware that he may memorize much more details than other people did. While working alongside Roo he had taken note of the size of the pantry and how much ingredients they needed for what. It hadn’t even happened consciously but to do his job the best way possible.

“Good with numbers doesn’t help us now, though,” Raki said. She pushed herself off the counter and cursed under her breath. “I need a coffee!”

Benn watched the women go over the familiar steps of grinding up the coffee beans and if she put a little more force into it than usual Benn couldn’t blame her for it. It was indeed frustrating to look at the numbers and realize no matter what they did, it would blow the budget out of proportion. “How come it’s this bad?”

It was a question Benn hadn’t been able to stop asking himself since Raki had shown him the calculations. He was aware they were feeding roughly one hundred people and to do so they needed quite a lot of ingredients. Benn also knew, though, that the palace had their own gardens and fields and a lot of the food came from there. It was the staples that they needed to buy externally. Flour, sugar, beans, rice, sometimes eggs if their own chickens didn’t lay enough, some types of meat and dairy. A lot of the people that Shanks had freed in his time as a Yonko were farmers because they had been enslaved due to the growth of the calm belt and the need to give up their lands on the outskirts of the common land. You couldn’t grow food in a desert.

“Prices have tripled in the last six months,” was the answer Raki gave, as she poured hot water over the now grinded coffee beans which she had put in a filter. Drops of freshly brewed coffee made a dripping sound as they hit the bottom of the mug. The scent of the drink filled Benn’s nose and hadn’t it been for the late hour he would have preferred some coffee for himself. It seemed Raki didn’t mind or care about it.

With a flick of his hand Benn pulled the paper closer that showed the budget. Neatly written down rows of numbers and ingredients in Roo’s penmanship showed what he had bought this month and how much it had cost. The sum was correct, Benn had gone over it twice by now but it felt way too high. He pondered it again and the thought he had earlier just intensified.

“Are the sellers always the same ones?” he asked.

“I think so,” she answered and her expressions had shifted into something more content now that she had the hot beverage in her hand. “But I’d have to ask Roo or Yasopp, and both aren’t -”

She stopped in the middle of the sentence when the door to the kitchen opened. With a big grin on his face a very familiar face stepped in. “What do you need to ask me?”

“Yasopp,” Raki said and smiled. Behind Yasopp a woman stepped in that Benn didn’t know. He assumed it was Banchina, Yasopp’s wife. She had dark, short hair, a slightly longer nose than what would be considered normal and bright eyes. When Raki saw her she almost screamed. “Oh my goddess, Banchina, you’re back.” With a smile Benn watched her put the coffee mug on the counter and rush to the other woman to give her a hug. While the two women embraced Yasopp raised an eyebrow at him.

“Aren’t you supposed to still be on vacation break?” Yasopp asked Benn, then looked at the papers before his gaze wandered back to Benn. “And where is Roo?”

“I assume you haven’t talked to Shanks, yet?” was Benn’s only answer. He didn’t mind Yasopp knowing about why exactly Roo wasn’t here but he would prefer for the circle to stay relatively small, at least until they had more information.

“Should I?” Yasopp asked and well, Benn could only shrug and nod. Throwing his arms in the air, the other exclaimed, “I was only gone for a week. My Goddess.”

Laughing, Benn turned to Yasopp’s wife who had let go of Raki and looked at him. She looked healthy. A little thin maybe but nothing spoke of the disease he knew she had gone through. It made him feel glad that his friend didn’t have to worry about his wife anymore. “You must be Benn,” Banchina said and held out a hand. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Yasopp wanting to say something but before he could Benn took the hand. “Nice to meet you. Yasopp told me you two became training buddies.”

“Nice to meet you, too. I’m glad you’re back,” Benn answered and grinned at the way Yasopp tried to hide his shock at the touch Benn had offered so freely. Maybe he also heard the other man mutter, “What in the seven heavens had happened while I was gone?” Benn chose to overhear it.

They had talked for quite a while, Yasopp, Banchina, Raki and him. Instead of staying in the kitchen they had moved the conversation outside into the dining hall, sitting at one of the empty tables. Lamps overhead spent some soft light while it became dark outside. After a while, though, Banchina had excused herself to look for Usopp, their son, who Benn had found out had already been sleeping and to go to bed herself. She may have overcome her disease but it would take a while for Banchina to regain full strength again.

“What did you want to ask me, before?” Yasopp asked, looking at Raki, after he had given his wife a kiss with the promise to join her in a bit. The question made Benn realize they still had to figure out tomorrow's menu. He groaned.

“Benn asked me if we always buy from the same vendors and I said I don’t know, I need to ask you or Roo,” Raki told him. Her expressions had shifted and Benn knew she had just realized like him they still had work to do.

Pushing himself back into his seat, Yasopp shrugged. “Yes, we do. Most of the time at least. Not many that can supply the quantities we need. Why?”

Instead of answering, Raki just nodded towards Benn. Yasopp’s gaze followed, the question written into it. Benn hadn’t wanted to convey his suspicion so openly but maybe he should.

“The prices are way too high.The kitchen has a very generous amount of budget each month and yet, we are almost out. I looked over the numbers and I just can’t believe those are the everyday market prices.” Benn knew he just accused the vendors of fraud but he couldn’t help himself. If everybody had to pay what they were paying he wouldn’t have been able to afford food at the festivities a few days ago. Nobody would.

Yasopp’s eyebrow rose and Raki stared at him. “Specify ‘those’. Which ingredients precisely do you mean?” Yasopp asked. He didn’t sound angry, Benn noted. He didn’t even sound like he wasn’t believing Benn, which helped in keeping up his argument. He didn’t know what he would have done, had Yasopp just brushed his words aside.

“Eggs mostly, some types of meat. Chicken, turkey. Flour, grains. Not sugar, though and not butter or red meat. Which usually is more expensive. But we pay almost double for eggs than we pay for butter. Chicken costs one and a half times as much as beef. It’s just something you don’t see immediately because we buy such unequal amounts each time and you have to check the price per weight.”

Benn had scanned and compared the prices earlier of what he had been shown, which wasn’t much. Raki only had the list of the last two months but Benn had the suspicious feeling he would find out even more could he have a look into the books properly.

“You really are good with numbers,” Raki muttered under her breath but it was Yasopp who raked his fingers through his hair.

“Fuckers,” he said and Benn gave him a look. “I order what Roo tells me because I know shit about food. He usually stays on budget and I don’t mind him going over it here or there. He had told me, though, that some stuff had become quite expensive. I didn’t realize the increase was this much.” He took a breath and sighed. “I’ll look into it tomorrow. Good start to being back.”

“I’ll help you,” Benn said and Yasopp looked at him questioningly, “If Shanks and you don’t mind.”

“Wouldn’t know why he should,” Yasopp answered and stood. “I would need one of you anyway, to help me compare prices. As I said, I know shit about food.” Before he could leave, Raki spoke up.

“That’s all good but what are we doing for tomorrow? We’re still missing about two hundred eggs.”

“We skip the scrambled eggs and do Shakshouka for breakfast. Tomatoes and peppers come out of the garden in abundance at the moment and instead of the egg salad we do something with chickpeas. We have enough of those. That should leave us with enough eggs for the quiche between what is left and what our own chickens lay.”

Benn had just spoken out loud the kind of plan his mind had come up with. It wasn’t that bad of a plan. He had been quite sure of it but faltered when he saw the faces of the other two. They stared at him. “I… did I say something wrong?”

Raki shook her head and pushed herself from the table, too. Yasopp grinned and then clapped him on the shoulder. “No, Benn. Nothing’s wrong. You should just speak your mind more often.”

Shanks had tried to contact Rayleigh everyday since he had tried to open Benn’s necklace again. He hadn’t gotten hold of his old teacher even once. The man seemed to have vanished. Contacting him via spell ran into a deep dark void. Shanks knew Ray did that sometimes, when he didn’t want to be disturbed. Shakky had told him she hadn’t seen her husband in weeks. That wasn’t something unusual, either. It was just how these two were. Usually Shanks didn’t mind. He knew Ray was alive, because only active magic could redirect his communicating spells like this. There wasn’t even a door to knock on. The whole house was gone. Shakky had told him Ray had a lead on Benn’s necklace and that was exciting news, yet Shanks had preferred to share his findings with the older man. It seemed it had to wait.

Yasopp had come back from picking up his wife Banchina and his son Usopp yesterday evening. He hadn’t been able to talk with him yet, but intended to after lunch, to which he was on his way. 

Shanks couldn’t quite grasp the revelation about him not having come off age yet. But he had made an effort to try and reflect on the matter. He even sat his ass into the library to check some books on it. Every single source said you definitely could tell the moment you came off age. Shanks had to admit to himself he never had that happen to him. He also knew his magic sometimes slipped or was hard to control. To think it would be calm one day, though, seemed absolutely impossible. He snorted. Every source he had read had also said you couldn’t influence when you came off age, so he decided to not give it too much thought. As long as he could perform his duties as Yonko, he would be good. For now he wanted to eat something and then give his friend an update. And finally hug Banchina, for goodness’ sake.

“Roo’s still gone to find everything out about the Rosenthorns and while I tried to contact Ray about the necklace, I just couldn’t reach him,” Shanks told Yasopp. He had gone to lunch and he had hugged Banchina. Shanks was glad that the woman was back. It had been hard to know her disease could become fatal without the proper treatment. It was also good to know that they had managed to find a doctor who could treat her. She was back and healthy and that was all that mattered. After lunch Shanks had told Yasopp to meet him and Benn and Doc at his study. He’d been in this room way too often in the last few weeks.

“Fuck’s sake,” Yasopp said and then looked at Benn. The other hadn’t said much but let Shanks do most of the talking. Nonetheless he had taken it with grace to hear his own story being laid out in front of him. Shanks couldn’t stop himself from being proud. “I’m sincerely sorry that happened to you, Benn.” Benn just shrugged at the words, but his expression showed deep gratitude. Shanks could only guess but he had a hunch on how Benn felt. He knew there was a lot of understanding from his people. Understanding a slave didn’t get. Good, Benn wasn’t that anymore. “But is there something else we can do other than wait?”

The last question had been directed to Shanks. It was a question he had pondered before and it irked him that he only got one conclusion. “Not really. Before Roo isn’t back with more information or I’ll get hold of Ray all we can do is keep going with our daily business.”

It made Yasopp groan. “Well then, Benn, do you mind checking the numbers with me?”

Benn looked at the clock that was hanging over the door and then shook his head. “I’ll have an hour and a half before I need to get back into the kitchen. Let’s see how far we get.” It seemed so small but Shanks had no idea what they were talking about and he had a feeling he should. Which was why he reached for Yasopp who had wanted to stand up.

“What numbers?”

“Well,” Yasopp started and scratched his head, “Benn had found some strange food prices while budgeting for the rest of the month and I wanted to look into it with him. We aren’t sure though, which is why I haven’t brought it up yet.”

Shanks trusted Yasopp with the finances of the palace. He knew it wasn’t his friend's favorite thing to do but he did a decent enough job. Shanks didn’t doubt he would handle it worse. That wasn’t what irked him. What made him stop in his thoughts was something else, something Shanks hadn’t really given thought to since - well, since back when Benn hadn’t known about why his necklace didn’t come off.

“Do you,” Shanks started and looked at Benn, who looked back. His grey eyes watched him curiously and it made Shanks shudder slightly. The thought that Benn was beautiful slipped into his mind and he pushed it away just as fast. Not right now. “Do you like budgeting?”

Benn, who had been on the verge of standing up as well, let himself fall back against the backrest of the couch and Shanks could watch how the other opened his mouth, closed it again and then shrugged. “I don’t mind numbers. They don’t lie.”

For a moment it was silent between them. Shanks had always prided himself in giving his subjects, his people, a choice. Every freed person had been given a choice, but Benn hadn’t because it had been so different with him. From the moment he had seen Benn in that auction house Shanks had known Benn would make a difference in his life. But it wasn’t fair to not grant the man the same freedom like everyone else.

“Did you ever think about what you want to do with your life, Benn?” Shanks asked. His voice was low but steady. He didn’t want Benn to go anywhere. He wanted the man close to him, but Benn was his friend and Shanks’ desires were selfish. “You know why I can’t take the necklace off, but we are working on it. When it’s off… no, even now, if you want to. You don’t have to stay in this palace, you’re free to go and do whatever you want with your life. I know you didn’t believe me back then but I hope you do now. You have a choice to do with your life whatever makes you happy.”

He knew Yasopp and Doc were staring at him, but Shanks had just felt the need to say his mind. Benn had been shackled for so long and Shanks knew what it meant to think freedom was out of your grasp. He wanted to make sure Benn understood his life had changed. He wanted to make sure Benn knew he could choose.

Shanks was afraid of the answer he would get. He knew nobody in this room wanted to see Benn go, including him. Yasopp had found a training partner in Benn, Doc a person to talk medicine with. Shanks had been captivated by Benn’s presence from the first day and they all saw him as a friend. Roo would be distraught to find out Benn had left while he was gone. Yet, when Benn smiled, Shanks’ heart soared. “And if I want to stay here, in the palace, with you?”

“Then you never have to leave.” Shanks couldn’t help himself but smile back. Something heavy he didn’t know he had been carrying fell off his chest. Relief took its place.

“But Shanks made a good point,” Doc chimed in. He had been silent until now. “Remember I asked you if you want to train to become a doctor? I’m quite certain why you didn’t consider the offer, but maybe you want to now.”

“Oh,” was all Benn managed to answer. Shanks could see that he hadn’t thought about it. He didn’t blame the man but Shanks was grateful for Doc’s intervention. Not to mention Benn would be a good doctor. Shanks had a feeling Benn would become excellent at everything he put his mind into.

“You don’t have to decide now,” Shanks said. “You can think about it and whenever you’ve come to a decision I promise I will help you do whatever you want to do. Be it a doctor, do something with numbers, stay with Roo in the kitchen or do something completely different. You can even try yourself out, check in with the other people here in the palace. Maybe you’ll find your passion.” By now Shanks was grinning. He imagined Benn doing some of the crafts a lot of his people here in the palace were doing. Like Ririka who made soap - quite the good one Shanks had found out - or Banchina who surely would go back to pottery once she had regained her old strength. He didn’t think those occupations were for Benn but he surely wouldn’t mind being surprised. As long as Benn was happy.

“I’ll think about it,” Benn answered slowly, like he needed a moment to process what he had just heard. His eyes met Shanks’. “Thank you, I… really, thank you.”

“Never mind,” Shanks’ smiled warmly and then stood. “I’ll leave you in Yasopp’s care and if you need help, please don’t ask me. Come on, Doc, before we have to take a look at the books, too. Numbers are scary.”

Disbelieving laughter followed him out the door. He didn’t mind. He was just glad Benn would stay with them and knew he was always free to change his mind. Something no slave ever had the freedom to.

Chapter Text

They hadn’t had time to go through every number of the last six months in the short amount of time before Benn had to be back in the kitchen for lunch. Yasopp had been very open and had explained his way of accounting. Benn knew he would have done a lot differently but once he had grasped Yasopp’s system he understood most of what the other had done. He only needed further information here and there. What bugged Benn were the errors he spotted. Not many, but enough to make it a constant in all the books. He didn’t know what to do with them or how to address it.

He had met Yasopp after dinner, again, for another three hours, to continue where they had stopped earlier. By now, Benn knew his hunch was right. Roughly six months ago certain prices had steadily increased, to a point that wasn’t reasonable anymore. Because it hadn’t been a hard jump but each week a little increase no one had noticed.

The light in the library had slowly become less and when Benn looked up from the papers he realized the lamps had been turned on. It was getting late. Yasopp sat in front of him, a desk between them and papers over papers scattered on it. A few books lay on Benn’s right side and he had a quill in his hand, which he put away to stretch. His back was sore. While he stretched Yasopp yawned.

“So,” Yasopp tried to say, yawned again and then rubbed his eyes. “Goddess.” It made Benn smile. He didn’t know how much sleep someone got with a three-year-old. Probably not that much. “So we know the prices for - ” He held up his hand and put a finger down for each item he counted off. “Poultry, eggs, wheat, rye and corn are too high - however, not for barley which is odd and not for beef and milk products which is even odder.”

Benn nodded and then pulled one of the accounting books out of the stack. Yasopp’s lips had formed a thin line. “I wish it would be different but this screams fraud. Someone’s fucking with us and I hate that I haven’t caught it.”

“You had a wife to worry about,” Benn murmured, while he browsed through the pages of the book. Yasopp snorted but didn’t say anything in return to Benn’s remark. By now Benn knew Banchina’s disease had flared up roughly six months ago and her condition had worsened quicker than even Doc had anticipated or wanted. No one, especially not Shanks, would fault him for not catching the food prices had gone up, Benn was sure. The redhead cared for his friends way more than for money. “There.”

Benn had found the entry he had looked for. While Yasopp wasn’t the best with numbers and would occasionally calculate something wrong, he had always written down from what supplier the purchase had been conducted. “Where what?” Yasopp asked, irritated.

Benn turned the book so Yasopp could read into it and pointed towards an entry. “Up until this purchase, the prices for eggs and the other items had been constant. Maybe a few berrys more or less, but I chalk that up to harvest fluctuation. You also had purchased all of them, so eggs, poultry and the grains, from the same supplier. Then for a few weeks -” Benn flipped a few pages and pointed at the mentioned entries. “the purchases had been all over the place. I counted eight different suppliers, never mentioned before or for extremely different products.” He flipped another few pages. “Then we come to this purchase for eggs and from here on out the supplier for eggs and poultry, and for the grains except the barely, which had always been bought from someone else, are two different ones, but they stay the same. It’s also the point where the prices started to increase.”

Yasopp had followed his explanation silently. Now, he pulled the book closer and narrowed his eyes. Benn could watch him flip back to the different pages. It hadn’t been easy to spot the changes because Yasopp kept all purchases for the kitchen in one book. They were neatly written down chronologically but not by type. Which would be what Benn would have done and what would have helped to spot it earlier. Well, nevermind. It was what it was.

“You’re right,” Yasopp murmured, then scratched his head and rested back against his stool. Benn could see in his face he was trying to make sense of it. “I’m not sure, I’d have to ask Roo because he’s closer with the farmers than I am, but I think I remember this one man. He was quite old, but a good guy. He was our main supplier for the eggs and the poultry and the grains. Then he died and while his family sorted the farm we needed to look for alternatives. Hence the various different suppliers. Most can’t sell the quantities we need, so we had to ask a lot of different farmers. It’s quite the hassle, I rather stick to one big supplier. Then his two sons split the farm between them. One had taken over the side with the animals - hence the poultry and the eggs - and the other the fields.” For a moment Yasopp went quiet then his expression became sour. “I never liked them. Can’t explain it but they lack a certain amount of respect for Shanks. Makes me furious.”

“If they lack respect for Shanks,” Benn started, wondering if it was okay to voice his thoughts but Yasopp looked at him encouragingly, so he kept on speaking. “they probably don’t mind cheating him out of his money, too. This was done deliberately.”

Yasopp sighed, but nodded. He had absentmindedly started to arrange the papers into neat stacks. “But we need to be able to order those food items.”

“Yes,” Benn agreed. He had enough insight into the pantry to know they were okay for another few weeks but then they at least needed more wheat and chicken meat. “It doesn’t mean we have to fall back to them. It’s more work but I would start ordering from the other farmers again. It’s smaller quantities each but in sum it’s enough to stock the kitchen. I can arrange a purchase plan for you if you let me into the books for a while longer.”

Yasopp laughed at the words and stood up. “Your words in Maali’s ears, Benn. I hold you up on that.” His eyes darted to the clock. “You really are good with numbers. You’d do a much better job at handling the finances than I do. Have a go at whatever books you need. Tomorrow. It’s late.” Then there was a glint in his eyes that made Benn halt in his attempt to stand up as well. “While you do that purchase plan, I will look into those two brothers. If I find out it isn’t only the palace they’re scamming, Shanks will want to know and be quite mad. He’s very protective of his people.”

Goosebumps appeared on Benn’s skin and he blinked against the dim light of the library. The same expression Roo had had when he had agreed to look into the Rosenthorns now was on Yasopp’s face. It would be scary, if Benn hadn’t known it was for a greater good. It slowly dawned on him why Roo, Yasopp and probably also Doc held such high positions in Shanks’ reign. They were the closest friends of a Yonko, after all.

“I think, I’m starting to understand that,” Benn mused and then stood up. He would start the purchase plan tomorrow.

It was quite late when Benn stepped into his room. He had helped Yasopp put away the accounting books and papers they used and Yasopp had taken the time to show Benn how he could access everything he needed to do his purchase plan. It was quite clever, too. Yasopp did most of his work in the library, so he kept most of the accounting books there as well. To not have unwanted eyes look into them he had created a concealment spell that needed both a code word and the right spot the user had to stand on to reveal them. Benn had never heard of the combination before. If Yasopp was as clever an armorer as a spell-weaver he could do better things than focusing on finances.

The moonlight casted a light shine into his room. With how often Benn seemed to do late-nighters at the moment he wondered if he should ask for a lamp. He didn’t need to hurt his shin just because one night the moonlight wouldn’t be enough for his eyes. Today however all Benn wanted to do was go to bed. He had to stand up early tomorrow for breakfast preparations and hadn’t anticipated sitting over accounting books this late.

With a yawn he turned towards his bathroom just to stop in his tracks when he heard a quiet whimper. It pulled at his heart-strings. Since his late talk with Shanks he had heard the other have nightmares every day. However it usually stopped after a moment, so despite the sound he vanished to brush his teeth and get ready. When Benn was done, he could still hear Shanks whimper through the door. He hated that sound, the quiet voice of the other man filtered through their shared wall with such agony. It didn’t seem to stop, either.

For a moment Benn pondered with himself, then when a quiet, desperate “No!” could be heard he threw caution to the wind. Fuck that.

The door between their shared rooms wasn’t locked and a part of Benn’s brain noted that it probably never had been. Shanks was just a good enough man to never use it. Then Benn’s gaze fell on the figure on the bed. Just like last time Shanks had rolled into as small a ball as possible, knees drawn to his chest and arms close to his face. The blanket had slipped on the ground and small shudders wracked the sleeping man’s body. Benn sighed.

“Wake up, Shanks,” he spoke into the room and of course didn’t get an answer. With swift steps he stepped close and kneeled in front of the bed. “Hey, it’s alright. I’m here.” Silence followed. With his hands at Shanks’ shoulders Benn shook him but even when he used quite more force than he had anticipated was needed, Benn couldn’t wake Shanks. Then his eyes fell on the nightstand where a small container stood. “Shit,” Benn muttered under his breath when he realized it must be the sleeping pills that stopped Shanks from waking up. They were strong.

Another whimper left Shanks’ mouth and he turned in his sleep. Benn retracted his hand and then reached to push some strands of red hair out of Shanks’ face. “Ssh,” he murmured. “I’m here.”

It couldn’t be good if their Yonko was out cold and not wakeable because of some pills. If something happened in the night and Shanks was trapped in his sleep. Benn doubted Shanks would ever forgive himself for that. But what bothered Benn even more was that despite everything the pills didn’t even seem to help his friend. Shanks was still suffering from the nightmares, now just without a way to escape the horrors of the night. Was it his place to tell Doc? Should he tell Shanks? He didn’t know. Instead he kept petting Shanks’ hair absentmindedly. Only after a while did Benn realize that the whimpers had stopped as had the shivers. Shanks seemed to even relax under the ministrations, because he uncurled from the position he was in. Maybe Benn could let Shanks sleep now and go to bed? But just as he had pushed himself up the whimpers returned. With a sigh Benn looked around and his eyes fell on one of Shanks’ cushioned chairs. He blinked, tiredly and then decided. He had had it worse. One night in a chair wouldn’t hurt him and it definitely seemed to help Shanks. Considering all the redhead did for him, this was nothing. The clothes on the chair were placed aside and the chair was placed next to the bed without making too much sound. Not that it would have woken Shanks, anyway. It had taken Benn only a moment and yet Shanks had started to whimper again. When Benn resumed his soft touches they died down.

Without thinking too much about it Benn put the blanket back on Shanks’ body and settled into the chair. It would be a long night and Benn couldn’t care less. 

When Shanks woke he felt drowsy and his limbs were heavy like stone. That wasn’t as unusual as he liked. The sleeping pills’ effect took quite a while to leave his system and mornings with them were hard. Mornings without them were quite harder, though, so Shanks endured. Another week and a half until Roger’s anniversary of his death. After that day things would get better.

He stirred, the light hitting him through his closed eyes, yet Shanks didn’t have a headache as he usually had. He felt better than he had the last week and he counted that as a win. While he forced his eyes open - everything was so slow with those damned pills - he heard someone mutter a quiet but heartfelt “fuck” next to him. It made him almost jump.

“What?” His senses sprung into action and Shanks pushed the drowsiness aside. In an instant he was upright, just to look into Benn’s face. Benn’s exhausted face. The man had rings under his eyes, his hair had come loose from his hair tie and hung around his face. Not to mention he was sitting in one of Shanks’ cushioned chairs close to the bed like he had slept in it. What the fuck?

Before Shanks could ask though, Benn already stood up. He had rubbed his eyes, put his long hair up into a neat bun and crossed the room to the connecting door before Shanks had time to process what even happened. Only when he saw the familiar colors of Benn using magic, he stopped the man in his tracks. The colors vanished, the spell interrupted. “Don’t you dare,” Shanks growled and then added but in a softer tone, “Would you please explain why you see the need to hide the rings under your eyes? Why do you even have them?”

Benn looked at him, then at the window and then back to Shanks. His hand twitched on the handle of the door but he let go in favor to turn fully into Shanks’ direction. “Can I explain while I change into proper clothes? I’m already late for breakfast preparations and I don’t want Raki to do everything on her own.”

For a moment Shanks couldn’t comprehend the words and later he sure would blame the remaining effects of the sleeping pills on it. For now though all he could do was stop himself from blushing too much, which admittedly didn’t work quite as well as he liked. In front of his inner eye an image appeared of Benn getting in and out of his clothes. Which… damn. No, yes, well. He gulped and then closed his eyes.

“You know what, tell me after breakfast.”

“What do you mean you couldn’t wake him,” Doc exclaimed and stared first at Benn, then at Shanks. It was after breakfast and Shanks had taken him aside, just like he had told him he would. Thankfully Benn hadn’t been too late in the kitchen and instead of being mad, Raki had just laughed. He took the teasing of being a sleepy head with grace. After breakfast Shanks had beckoned him and it was pure luck that Doc had overheard. The doctor stared Shanks down before he sat next to Benn. “How many pills have you taken?”

The way Shanks looked rather sheepish made Benn rise an eyebrow. He should have known it wasn’t Doc who had dosed the pills incorrectly. “Two?”

Shanks’ answer was phrased more like a question but it still managed to have Doc jump in his seat. His hands crashed on the table and he leaned over it, fury and, as Benn realized, worry in his eyes. “Are you quite mad? You could seriously hurt yourself.”

“Well, I haven’t in the last year,” Shanks argued back and Benn’s mouth opened and closed without saying a word. Doc seemed to feel similar because he visibly scrambled for something to say. “What the, why, how. Shanks!”

“One pill just doesn't work and then why bother taking them?” Shanks sounded like a petulant child but there was something darker underneath the words. It made Benn aware how much Shanks carried on his shoulder and that didn’t even include his past. A little spare part of his brain was proud that he had been made aware of it, too. That he was Shanks’ friend and he really wanted to help. How, he had no idea, but he wanted to.

“You… by Maali. Shanks. You didn’t think to come to me, instead of just randomly taking more?” Doc asked after he had processed the news. When Shanks murmured a “Sorry” Doc sighed. Then he pushed himself off the table and nodded towards the door to the hall. “Well good, because I will definitely not let you take more until I check your kidney and your liver. Let’s go.”

“What? No, Doc, come on,” Shanks whined, and this time Benn couldn’t stop himself from laughing. He was sure Rika handled going to the doctor quite more gracefully than Shanks. But she was almost five and Shanks was … well, Shanks.

Only when they were long gone did Benn realize he hadn’t told Shanks that the nightmares had calmed down under Benn’s presence and touches.

Benn really had wanted to start working on the purchase plan for Yasopp. While he had prepared lunch, he had started making mental notes on what they needed for the rest of the month and he even had put down notes on things he was sure he would forget, like spices. When lunch had been over, however, Rika had come and begged him to come with her to the garden. She had learned the names of different flowers in school and wanted to show off to him. Ririka and Kai had just laughed and Benn wasn’t able to say no to her. So he had spent the afternoon with Rika and her parents in the palace’s gardens, not so far from where he had first met the girl. It had been a lovely day, warm but not too hot in the shade of the many palm trees. Rika had shown him her favorite hibiscus flower and had compared the bougainvillea around her neck with the ones on the live plant. It had reminded Benn of Doc, Roo and Shanks telling him he was quite more powerful than an average human, which frankly Benn had refused to give too much thought to. But then Rika had laughed and he had decided to think about it another day. This one was too beautiful to ponder his own magic’s power.

After dinner preparations, dinner and clean-up of said dinner had been over, Benn had considered starting to work on the plan but only sleeping for a few hours and those few hours in a chair made themselves known. So instead of heading towards the library he headed to his room. It wasn’t late per se but probably late enough to go to sleep and if Benn woke up early tomorrow he could work on the purchase plan before heading to the kitchen. At least he could put down all the notes into a proper list.

Brushing his teeth and changing into his sleeping clothes didn’t take long. It wasn’t dark outside but the sun had already sunken. What was called the golden hour was long gone but night had yet to take over the world. With a yawn Benn went to bed, wondering when he had started to actually enjoy the life he was currently living. A smile framed by red hair carried him to sleep.

Something woke Benn, but he didn’t know what. Opening his eyes, he found it was the middle of the night. He wanted to turn around and keep on sleeping, when a frightened “No” carried from the other room towards him. He sighed and another whimper sounded through the wall. So that was what had woken Benn. Shanks was having a nightmare again. When it didn’t stop, Benn knew he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. He came to hate the sound of Shanks’ pain. It made Benn feel helpless. No one should live out their worst day over and over again every night, but especially not someone as charming and happy and good as Shanks.

Without a second thought Benn pushed his blanket away and stepped towards the connecting door. It wasn’t as bright as last time, the moonlight hid behind clouds, but Benn had his room mapped out in his head. The bed behind him, the wardrobe next to the bathroom door, the connecting door in front of him and a little desk with a chair on the side. Only when he was in Shanks’ room did he realize that he could use a little more light. He really should ask for a lamp.

Another whimper distracted him and pulled him forwards. He slowly made his way towards Shanks’ bed. There was little light from the window and it wasn’t enough, because suddenly sharp pain slashed from his toe upwards. “Fuck,” Benn cursed and then something rustled and light flickered awake. The magic had been so light Benn had only felt the smallest change in the air. He blinked against the brightness, to look into Shanks’ face, partly covered by sleep-mussed hair. Then he realized he had walked against the chair he had slept in yesterday, which was still close to Shanks’ bed.

“Benn,” Shanks murmured, voice laced with sleep. “What?”

Benn took a breath and then shrugged helplessly. “Nightmares. You were whimpering and I wanted to calm you down,” he admitted. He wondered if it sounded to someone else as much as a lame excuse as it did to his own ears. Even though it was the truth. But Shanks surprised him by rubbing his eyes and then pushing himself up, instead of doubting him.

“Calm me down?” Shanks’ voice was quiet but sincere. It made Benn step around the chair and sit down into it.

“Yesterday your nightmare seemed to stop after I …” Benn hesitated but then threw caution to the wind. The whole situation was strange enough, he wouldn’t add to it with awkwardness. “... after I was close and petted your hair.”

“And sat in that chair the whole night,” Shanks added. Benn couldn’t disagree so he just shrugged. He would do it again. Shanks however just looked at him for a moment. Then he scooted towards the wall and flipped his blanket over, as if he read his mind. “You’re a selfless fool and I won’t let you do that again. Come sleep.”

“But,” Benn wanted to protest. Shanks however interrupted him and patted the empty side next to him. His eyes were droopy and he looked … he looked like someone Benn wanted to protect from harm. Someone worth protecting.

“I’m tired and you obviously can’t sleep with me having nightmares, so come sleep, Benn.”

He didn’t know what possessed him or if he was just too tired to form proper thoughts, but Benn knew Shanks was right. He wouldn’t sleep with Shanks having nightmares and Shanks obviously wouldn’t as well. So he stood from the chair and slipped into Shanks’ bed, which was at least big enough to fit two people comfortably. Shanks put the blanket over Benn’s torso and then slipped back into the cushions. Shanks’ movements were slow and Benn wondered if it was the nightmare or something else. “Did Doc give you another dose for the sleeping pills?” he asked.

“Yeah. Made me promise to only take one. Hate them. But the nightmares are worse.” Then he turned and Shanks’ face was directly in front of his own. He could even feel Shanks’ breath on his face. It was easy to see the influence of the sleeping pill this close. The way Shanks’ fought to keep his eyes open betrayed him. But at least he had woken, which was enough for Benn. With a smile he brushed a stray strand of red hair out of Shanks’ face.

“I’ll keep them away, I promise,” Benn murmured. Under his touch Shanks’ eyes fluttered close. Benn watched the redhead fall asleep, taken back to the land of the dreaming by the effects of the pill he had taken. This time without nightmares, Benn realized, when the whimpers stayed away even after some time had passed. All he could hear was Shanks breathing evenly. He knew Shanks was stronger than him and during the day the Yonko looked out for him, putting effort and resources into finding a way to open his cursed necklace. But here, in the silence of the night, Benn could protect Shanks and he realized it was something he wanted to do. Because Shanks was important to him.

Benn didn’t know how long he just listened to Shanks’ breathing, letting the realization sink into him how much this man had changed his life and him. It probably was only twenty minutes. Then sleep slowly reached for him, too, and he murmured a spell to put out the lamp. The flame flickered without there ever being any wind, then it was dark inside the room. “Remind me tomorrow to ask you for a lamp,” Benn murmured to the sleeping figure next to him, just to amuse himself, before he let himself slip into sleep, too.

Chapter Text

Something, or better someone rustled and shifted next to him. It took a moment for Shanks to get his wits about him, but then he remembered the night and how Benn had snuck into his room. Again. To calm down his nightmares. Which apparently had worked, because Shanks didn’t have a headache, didn’t feel drowsy and had slept better than he had - for quite longer than he wanted to admit to himself.

“Keep sleeping, I just need to get to the kitchen,” Benn murmured next to him and Shanks opened his eyes just in time to have Benn drape the blanket around his frame. It was quite earlier than Shanks usually woke, which the golden shimmer that fell through the window told him. The sun was barely coming up.

“Mhm,” Shanks replied, still in the grips of sleep. Then he added, remembering how Benn had cursed. “How’s your - knee? Toe?”

It made Benn chuckle. “Toe. Not too bad, I guess.” Which was a good enough reply Shanks’ sleepy brain decided. “I'll see you later.”

With those words Benn vanished behind the door that connected their rooms. His hair caught in the golden light and for a moment all Shanks could do was look at the way it shimmered. Only then, when Benn was long gone and the door closed again, did it occur to him that the other had slept in his bed!

“Oh my goddess,” Shanks muttered into the silent room, realizing slowly what that implied. He had had Benn next to him. They had been sleeping in the same bed. But more importantly Benn had slept next to him willingly and the way he had chuckled at Shanks’ question meant he did not feel weird about it. Or forced. Goddess, Shanks hoped Benn had not felt forced. But… he had seemed relaxed. If that wasn’t a statement of how right it had been to tell Benn about his necklace, Shanks didn’t know what was.

He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Now that he was awake he knew he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. Not to mention he felt more awake and alive than he had felt in months. All because Benn had slept in his bed. Shanks stood … and sat back down on his mattress with an umph. Benn had slept in his bed… goddess. How in the seven heavens should he cope with that knowledge?

“Fuck!” he whimpered.

Which was something he apparently didn’t do enough, considering the images that crashed into his head and decided to stay. Maybe he should wait to leave his room until his face wasn’t as red as his hair anymore. Fuck!

Light filtered through the massive glass dome above him. Dust danced in the air where the sunrays hit the floor and no matter how often Benn came here, it still fascinated him how serene the library was. The rows and rows of books, the smell of paper and ink and the different islands of chairs and tables. Benn really should make the time to come here simply for the joy of reading but right now that wasn’t his plan. Instead he had kept the time between breakfast and lunch preparations free to work on the purchase plan.

“Good day, Benn,” someone said and Benn turned to see Professor Clover, who must have just rounded a corner. In his hand was a big leatherbound book. In favor of speaking with Benn, however, he placed it on the nearby counter. Benn could make out the title but it didn’t ring a bell. Something about archeology, he figured. Interesting choice. He nodded at the man.

“Hello, Professor,” he said and then suddenly a thought came to him. “Say, you wouldn’t have some ink and paper around I can use?”

Rounding the counter, the professor smiled. “Of course,” he answered and started to rummage, probably in a drawer but Benn couldn’t see it. Then paper, a pen and ink was placed on the dark wood of the counter. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” Benn said and made his way to get the offered items. When he came closer he could feel the other man studying him. It made Benn shudder slightly and this time he decided to ask. He remembered how the professor had looked at him the first time they had met. Just like he knew him, which couldn’t be because Benn knew he had never seen the man before his time as an inhabitant of Shanks’ palace. “Is everything alright?”

His question seemingly made the professor falter, because he blushed and then scratched his head. “No, yes,” the professor answered. When he continued however it surprised Benn. “You just remind me of an old acquaintance. Must be your complexion. It’s very rare in these parts of the land.”

Oh, so that was why the professor had looked at him strangely. Goddess, Benn was a fool. He knew his light skin was uncommon and if Professor Clover had known someone with a light skin as well, of course he would draw parallels. “I see,” Benn answered and then grinned, “maybe why I like libraries so much. No sun to burn my skin.” It was a joke. He really didn’t burn easily despite his light complexion.

For a moment the professor just looked at him, before he erupted into a deep laughter. “Touché.” Then he reached for his book again. But before he took it, the professor added. “If you need anything, just ask me.”

Which Benn would. But for now he was content with the paper, pen and ink. “Thank you,” he said and then placed the items on a nearby table before he made his way to get the accounting books. He had roughly three hours to work on the purchase plan for Yasopp and he decided to make good use of his time.

It was starting to get dark and Benn wondered how he had ever thought to only need a few hours to finish the purchase plan. Well, maybe he would have if he had strictly kept to it, but he was long past this point. First he had just wanted to browse through the last year of kitchen purchases to get a better grip on what Roo normally ordered and for what prices. Then he realized the mistakes in Yasopp’s calculations. Not many - mind you - but enough for it to matter. Benn had started by trying to keep the difference just in his head but that was impossible with every growing number of mistakes. To not mess up the books he had made notes on a separate piece of paper, but after an hour or two his own notes had become so much and messy that he had lost track of what belonged where. It didn’t help that Yasopp only noted down the purchases in chronological order and not by subject. There was an accounting book for every bigger section - like the kitchen, or the staff members, the gym, and so on and so forth - but all of those were strictly chronological. If Benn ever wanted to make sense of it - not in understanding what Yasopp did. That was easy - but to make it more functional and most importantly mistake free, Benn knew he had to rewrite at least the last year completely. He didn’t even feel comfortable making notes in the books, yet. He sighed.

In front of him he had three different books, a piece of paper with his notes and another piece of paper that was half finished with the purchase plan. He knew when he was done it would save the palace a considerable amount of money. He guessed at least twenty to thirty percent of what they usually spent for groceries, which made all of his hassle worth it. But not today. It was late.

The lights flickered a little and Benn rubbed his eyes when he forced himself to look into the distance. He leaned back in his stool and let his head fall back, to be able to see the glass dome above him. The moon was bright in the cloudless sky. His thoughts wandered back to his day. During dinner Rika had called him over and to his surprise gifted him a picture she had drawn in school. It was stick figures of her parents, herself and, to his surprise, he himself holding each other’s hands. In the background was the palace and another figure with distinctly red hair watching over all of them. Benn knew he would treasure the picture forever and when he had said so Ririka had promised to get him a frame. One of the friends she had made in the palace was apparently very good at making them. For now the picture was safely on his desk in his room.

The memory made him smile and slowly he started to close the accounting books, cap the ink and put the pen away. During lunch preparations Raki had shown him how to make a dip he had never had before. She even complimented him when he had tried to make it himself. When he had tasted it he had to admit to himself that he liked it. He wasn’t sure if he would ever invent dishes himself but he became a lot more self-assured in his role as a cook’s assistant. It fed the people of the palace and he liked the idea that he contributed to their wellbeing.

With a push he stood and made his way to the spot where he could conceal the accounting books again. It was more in the back of the library. When he murmured the code word that Yasopp had told him, what looked like a closed cupboard with no handle suddenly had one to open it. Behind it were all the accounting books neatly placed. Benn put the ones he had used back where he had taken them. To do so he had to pull out some other ones to reach behind them. In the process a small red leather bound one Benn hadn’t seen fell out and landed on the floor with a silent thump.

Sighing Benn bent down to pick it up. It had fallen open in the process and while Benn was not one to pry he couldn’t stop himself from scanning the open page. His eyes widened, when he read names. Names and names and names. This must be all the people Shanks had freed. The one page alone that he could see contained at least ten to fifteen names and a quick estimate of the prices made Benn’s head spin. It was so much money - and yet, not nearly as much as Shanks had spent for him alone. Out of his own pocket. Benn didn’t need to look to know he would not be listed in this book. Because he hadn’t been paid by the palace’s income.

He didn’t want to think about it too deeply. Roo was out there to find a way to open his necklace. Shanks had risked his health now twice to try to open it. Yasopp was looking into the brothers and their fraud because he trusted Benn’s words and calculations and Doc had healed him without judgment. These numbers written down next to the names didn’t matter. Which, by giving the book a closer look, Benn realized was clear even in the ink on the paper. Under each name was written in keywords some personal details. Professions, addresses, family status and so on. Things that made a name into a person. Benn smiled and with a soft movement he closed the book and put it back. Shanks was a good person, a generous ruler and - Benn furrowed his brow when he remembered the night - probably fighting with nightmares again.

With a thud he closed the cupboard, mumbled the concealment spell so the handle vanished again and turned to make his way to his sleeping quarters. Shanks didn’t deserve to suffer and Benn didn’t mind sleeping in his bed. The redhead had shown him time and time again that he would treat Benn kindly and with respect, never touch him without his consent and most importantly he seemed to care for Benn. It was worth giving something back, even if it was just by sharing a bed - simply for sleeping purposes.

The air was humid and sweat dropped down from his face and soaked his clothes. Even though Roo was used to heat, he wasn’t used to this much humidity in the air. Manoas was surrounded by a desert and therefore the air was usually dry. These conditions - so close to the Dragon’s passage and to the adjoining jungle - were something so foreign to him, he didn’t know how the people who lived here coped. But honestly it wasn’t what bothered him at the moment. Or it wasn’t what bothered him the most, to be more precise. He hit the air and grumbled when the buzzing of the mosquitos didn’t vanish. Damn those little blood-sucking monsters.

Roo sighed. The house in front of him was a ruin. What once must have been a big mansion was now life- and soulless. Windows were broken, glass shards lay shattered on the driveway and on the ground. Lianes and vines had ranked around the stone walls - or what was left of them. The whole east wing had crumbled, probably because of the wood rotting in the humidity and no one caring for it. He could see birds nesting on parts of what was left of the roof. From somewhere he couldn’t see he heard monkeys screeching. Around him the plants had taken back what was rightfully theirs. He had worked himself through what must have been a beautiful and well cared garden once. The reminders were still there, like a pathway to the front door and remnants of garden beds. But flowers and wild plants had taken over most of the space. If he had to guess, this house had been left unattended for many years. Why, though, he couldn’t guess. Usually if all family members were dead, the authorities claimed abandoned houses - someone under the ruling Yonko of this part of the common land should have cared for it and then probably should have sold it. He knew Shanks would have done so, just to provide housing for his people. This mansion could be big enough to make an orphanage out of it. Wasn’t Whitebeard fond of those? Why was this house a ruin?

With the end of his sleeve Roo rubbed over his forehead to not have his own sweat drip into his eyes. He gave the crumbled walls in front of him a last look, then he shook his head and turned around to find his way back to the street and into the city. The house was a dead-end and it frustrated him to no end. He knew - he knew they could ask the old man about it. Well, Shanks could. He wasn’t in the place to approach another Yonko unannounced, even though Whitebeard would probably just laugh at him and maybe demand some food offerings. That wasn’t the problem. They were on good grounds with the other Yonko. What was the problem was that Roo even was in Whitebeard’s territory. He shouldn’t be. He should be in Kaido’s, sneaking about the Rosenthorns’ connection to black magic. But wasn’t that the crux of it? He had been in Kaido’s territory, at least in the beginning of his search. It hadn’t even taken him long to find out about the Rosenthorns. He had connections and while he hadn’t been a good street rat, he had been living in the streets for quite a while. He knew the rules, he could play the game. Especially with the ressources of a Yonko. But he couldn’t bring back people from death and the Rosenthorns were - if unfortunately or fortunately was for others to decide - univocally dead. All of them. Every last cousin, grandparent, child and even the fucking cat. Goddess, Roo was mad about the cat.

“Fuck,” he cursed when a thorn ripped a hole in his sleeve and some blood droplets ran down his upper arm. He reached for a dagger he had tied to his sash and hacked the offending vine down. At least something he could let his frustration out on. “Fuck this whole place and -” he violently hit his own leg and felt blood in his hand “those damn pests.” He needed to get home. He had been away for too long and apparently he wouldn’t find out more. The idea to come back and tell Benn he hadn’t found out anything about the necklace brought angry tears to his eyes. He gulped them down. He couldn’t change it. It didn’t mean Shanks wouldn’t be able to open the necklace. This was a pushback not a capitulation.

When he was back on the street, the weathered stone walls and the unhinged gate in front of him, he gave the broken down mansion a last look. Whether they asked Whitebeard about it or not, they should give him a hint to care for the big dark spot that screamed death and despair had happened here. Especially as it stood in the outskirts of one of his largest trading cities. He wondered if the old man was aware of it? Roo shook his head and made his way back to the tavern he had gotten a room in. It was too late to go back to the Dragon’s passage and into Shanks’ territory again today. He would leave early in the morning tomorrow, finally going home after three long weeks and probably needing another one, depending on how swift he could make his way back to Manoas. Back home.

“Benn, don’t you dare,” Shanks growled, when he heard the connecting door to the other man’s bedroom open. It was a familiar sound by now. Too familiar which was the fucking problem.

“Will you be able to sleep?” The voice was almost teasing and a part of Shanks was undeniably happy and content that it could be teasing but the other part - at the moment it was the stronger one - wanted to strangle the person the voice belonged to, just for it to shut the fuck up. The urge vanished the moment Shanks turned around and looked at Benn, standing close to the open door, in his sleep-wear, hair in a bun, shoulders relaxed and so goddess-forsaken beautiful it still took Shanks’ breath away. It drove Shanks mad. He was losing his mind with this man. In the best way possible, but still.

“Yes, I will be able to sleep,” Shanks answered and tried to sound resolute. “Roger’s death day is two weeks past, I have Doc’s sleeping pills and you have your own bed. Go sleep in it, for once.”

Maybe he had sounded too resolute because Benn’s face fell a little. It wasn’t much, but Shanks was very attuned to Benn’s miniscule changes in his expression by now. They had become close in the last few days and weeks. Which probably had something to do with the recurring occurrence of Benn sleeping with him in his bed. Shanks didn’t even know if he would have nightmares again, because Benn didn’t give him the chance to find out. Which, for the record, didn’t bother Shanks. He was very grateful. But it also tested his limits of self-preservation, because having Benn so close was another kind of challenge all in itself. He was burning for the man in front of him. Benn was kind, smart, charming and witty. He could keep up with Shanks’ thought processes when sometimes even Yasopp and Doc failed. His answers and ideas were always well thought through. Yasopp had told him about the purchase plan which had saved them a tremendous amount of money, more than Yasopp had ever thought possible. Benn even helped the man looking into the fraud of the two brothers - which was way more complicated and affected more of his people than Shanks liked, but they would take care of it - next to his duty in the kitchen and he still found time to indulge small Rika whenever she approached Benn with some question or another. Shanks could deny it all he wanted and he would for Benn’s sanity - but deep down he knew he was falling head-first or maybe heart-first into love with Benn. He could deal with his body wanting Benn, but he wasn’t sure how to deal with his heart wanting him as well. Especially when he knew Benn wasn’t in a place to return the feelings. They were friends. Friends!

“Look, Benn,” Shanks sighed, “I don’t want to dismiss you. You know I appreciate you keeping my nightmares at bay.” ‘And holding me through the worst day of the year’, he thought but didn’t say. On Roger’s death anniversary Shanks hadn’t even tried to sleep. Usually he would drown the memories in alcohol. This year however he had swapped stories with Benn, talking through the night until the light of the sunrise had erased the darkness in Shanks’ soul - and then Benn had left for the kitchen, without a single moment of sleep as if it was the most normal thing to do for the person who still wore a ring that could kill you. It had hit Shanks what Benn did for him, how he trusted him, anew. He had never hated that necklace around Benn’s neck more than on that day. He wanted it gone. Not for his own sake, not for Roger’s memory but for Benn to be free. Like he deserved.

“But you still don’t want me to sleep next to you,” Benn chimed in. He didn’t sound angry or disappointed. He leaned against the door frame, assessing him with his intelligent eyes and Shanks could see how he now was rather curious for Shanks’ reasoning. This man was a mystery.

“What I want,” Shanks said and rubbed his eyes. He was tired. Benn’s timing was impeccable. He would have gone to bed in the next ten minutes. “is for you to not have rings under your eyes all the time. Don’t think I don’t know that you’re going to bed later than you usually would because of me. I also know when you stand up, which is way earlier than most people in the palace and way earlier than me, because of your kitchen duty. You need sleep Benn. Sleep that isn’t interrupted by me waking you up at random times in the night. Please, take a good night’s sleep in your own bed, for once. I will be fine.”

Benn just looked at him for a moment, but then his shoulders sagged and he slouched a little against the door frame. “Fine,” he admitted and there was tiredness in his voice. The moment Roo would be back, Shanks knew he needed Benn to take a break. He would give him time off for at least a week, maybe longer. The man deserved it. “But if I hear you ha-”

Shanks interrupted him, smiling despite himself. “Yeah, yeah, as if I could stop you. Go to bed, Be-”

It was just in this moment that someone knocked at his mind, making themselves known. Shanks’ voice died down before he whispered, “Roo?”

His eyes met Benn’s who pushed himself from the door frame, stepping inside the room, eyebrows drawn together. They hadn’t heard from their friend for quite a few days now. It was an unusual time for Roo to connect with Shanks. It was way too late in the day. Shanks allowed the magical connection and then listened to the other man speak. The words danced in colorful swathes in front of Shanks’ eye and out of the corner he could see Benn rub his arms, as if he felt something. Which he probably did - he felt the magic. Roo kept his explanations short, promising to tell more when he was back. Which … well.

The connection ended and before Benn could ask, Shanks answered. “He’s coming home.”

Chapter Text

Light flickered on when he stepped into his room and murmured soft-spoken words. In the corner, next to the bed, stood a lamp and illuminated the interior. It was a tall thing with a red and white lampshade. After hurting his toe again, he had asked Shanks for it, who had first looked at him incredulously and then laughed uncontrollably. Benn couldn’t even fault him. He was slowly learning his lesson and step by step realized that here, in Shanks’ palace, his home, he could ask for things. Shanks had sent him to Yasopp, who had sent him to take Banchina shopping with him. Yasopp’s precise words had been “I know shit about interior decor” if anyone asked.

As Benn readied himself for bed, he listened closely into the silence of the night. He had looked with Yasopp over the evidence of the fraud, which had taken several hours but they finally were at a point which allowed them to not only accuse the two brothers - the Murrays - of fraud over them but several other citizens of Manoas, too. Now, they only needed to bring in Shanks to decide what to do with all the evidence. Which was, Benn decided, a problem for tomorrow.

It was still silent when Benn stepped out of his adjoining bathroom, teeth brushed and hair entangled. He sighed and looked at the connecting door to Shanks’ room. It felt weird to sleep in his own bed, again, after so many days. He had tuned into Shanks’ needs and it was hard to stop listening for silent whimpers of nightmares. Shanks had been very considerate the moment he realized Benn would not stop joining him. After two days there had been another set of pillow and blanket in his bed, and two days after that Benn found a glass and pitcher on the bedrest because Shanks had realized Benn liked to have a glass of water close for his dry throat. He really hadn’t minded sleeping next to Shanks. Which was still weird if Benn thought too closely about it. Not bad, though. Somehow never bad.

Now, however, he slipped into his own bed, murmuring the light out and looking into the darkness that was his ceiling. It was six days ago since Roo had contacted Shanks to tell him he would come home. He wondered what his friend had found out. Yet, he found he was also looking forward to just having the man back, to have his company in the kitchen and show him Benn’s purchase plan for the next month. With the effort he had put into it, Benn had decided he could just - continue doing it. It was easier now, after the ground work and research was done and if Roo agreed, they could keep doing it. He wondered if the other man would be okay with sharing that duty. He hoped so. It felt good to provide for the people of the palace… which was some of the last thought Benn had, before he slipped into sleep.

The string of the bow made a wizzing sound and only moments after he had let go the arrow hit the bull’s eye of the target. Benn lowered his bow and circled his shoulders to get the stiffness out of them. They had been at it for a while, now. Then he looked at his side, where Yasopp stood and grinned at him.

“So, what do you think?” the man asked and Benn couldn’t stop himself from grinning back.

“It’s perfect. You did an excellent job with this one,” Benn answered. He could see Yasopp’s grin become wider at the compliment. Yet, Benn knew it was fully deserved. Yasopp had taken the time to craft him a long-bow as all the bows they had in the palace were too short for him. Benn was able to use them but the balance always felt off. Now, however, he could see and feel the difference. His friend was an excellent armorer and his craftsmanship was extraordinary. “When did you find the time?”

Yasopp shrugged and then slowly made his way to the target to retrieve the arrows Benn had shot. Looking around, taking in the gym for a moment - the targets in the distance, the sand of the sword’s fighting area with its practice dummies. Out the windows Benn could see some of the gardens and the golden shimmer told him he should get back into the kitchen for dinner preparation. A swift gaze at the clock on the wall confirmed he was right. With hurried steps he followed Yasopp, to help him clean up the area they had used. When he was back at the other man’s side Yasopp bumped into him with a laugh. “You have no idea how much time your help saves me. Seriously Benn, if you ever decide to take over the books, I will forever be grateful and craft you as many bows as you want.”

They had reached the round disk that was used as a target for shooting and pulled the used arrows out. Two seemed to be broken, but the rest was fine. Benn had thought about Yasopp’s implication. He really had. He just didn’t know - he wasn’t sure what held him back. Maybe the idea to change a routine he had just gotten accustomed to. He knew something made him stop to go to Shanks and ask if he could take over the finances of the castle. If he could only pinpoint what. At least he knew Yasopp wouldn’t mind being released from his duty.

“Is it really such a burden for you?” Benn asked. He had wondered about that, too. Yasopp was quick to complain but it never seemed like he truly hated doing the books. It felt more like it was an annoyance for him.

“Ah, well,” Yasopp started and scratched his head. Then Benn could see his shoulders slump a little and his voice lost the cheery nature it had possessed just moments ago. He became somber. “I don’t mind doing it. I actually quite like giving out and managing the salaries for the palace’s staff because - you know most of them have been slaves and to see people who never possessed anything still getting a rush from having a steady income just feels good. But the books. I know I make mistakes and even though Shanks is too good a man to ever say anything I know I lose us money because of those mistakes.” He looked at Benn and then reached for the arrows he held. Benn gave them over. “Just look at how much we saved from your purchase plan for the kitchen. I would have never managed that. To think we could maybe free one more person, if only…”

Benn gulped at the words and then decided Yasopp should stop blaming himself. He slung an arm around the man. “You keep the people safe by caring for the armory. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“Well yes, I hope we’ll never get attacked, but if someone is stupid enough to do so, at least I know our arrows and swords are sharp and the bows taut.” Yasopp looked at the arrows in his hand and then turned his head to give the arm on his shoulder a glance.  “Thank you, Benn.” Then his smile came back and he started to walk back towards the other side of the shooting range, dragging Benn with him. He let himself be dragged, glad his friend had his smile back. “Come on, I promised Usopp to take him to the gardens before dinner and I need a shower beforehand.” He sniffed the air exaggeratedly loud. “As do you.”

It made Benn laugh. Still keeping his arm on Yasopp’s shoulder - and marveling a little about being able to without it feeling weird - he promised himself he would take the time to figure out what held him from taking over the position as finance minister. Even though no one in this palace was ever called a minister anyway.

He could smell the dining hall before he saw it. It must be close to dinner, but not yet started. With a sigh Roo walked through the door and took in the familiar view of the long tables, the buffet at the side and the large pillars that held the ceiling. It was so good to be home. A few feet away Raki placed a big bowl of what Roo was sure was some sort of couscous salad on the buffet table. Only when she had placed it down did she turn around. Roo grinned at her and could see how her expression turned from confused to delighted.

“Oh my goddess, you’re back,” she said and then rushed to him. Roo reciprocated the hug with the same amount of force he received it. “How has your trip been?”

The question made Roo gulp and his smile turned sad. “Fruitless.” His answer made the woman raise an eyebrow but she’d been his assistant for long enough to know when not to ask. He appreciated it. Just then the door to the kitchen opened and Roo’s eyes met Benn’s. Something heavy gripped his heart and he stopped himself from sighing. He had had so much time, while traveling back to Manoas, to think about how to tell Shanks but especially Benn the news and yet Roo had not come to a good conclusion. The truth was bitter.

Instead of finding a greeting Roo watched Benn lower the basket of bread he was holding. Goddess damnit, he hated that. Where were his words? Benn however just put the basket on the nearest table, his eyes shining and when Roo found himself in another - shorter and not as forceful, but who was he to blame when he remembered how careful they had been not to touch Benn just a two months ago - hug, he fought to hold back tears. He wasn’t sure if he deserved the closeness but he appreciated it. Fuck, he had been gone for too long. 

“Glad you’re back,” Benn said and Roo could only answer. “Glad to be back.”

“Do you know where Shanks and the rest are?” Roo asked. Shanks would not delay the meeting anyway and Roo didn’t really want to. He wanted to get this over with so they could decide what to do next. There was no good in looking back and finding nothing. What they needed to do was to see what they hadn’t tried yet, to open that necklace. He owed Benn at least that much.

“Yasopp’s in the garden with Usopp, Doc probably in the medical wing because one of the carpenters cut his hand very badly this morning and Shanks said he wanted to go over reports, so… either in his room, or avoiding them outside.” With those words Roo watched Benn turn back around, grab the basket of bread and head back to the kitchen.

“Why are you taking the bread back?” Raki asked and Benn just pushed the door to the kitchen open, looking back over his shoulder to her, grinning. Roo’s heart soared to see his grin. It suited the other man.

“Making sandwiches. I learned that meetings go over better with food.” Looking at the now closed door incredulously, Raki turned to Roo and poked her finger in his chest.

“He learned that from you, do you know that?” she accused and then sighed. “I’ll tell the rest of the cooks that you two won’t be available for the rest of the day.”

Somehow all Roo could do was laugh. Whatever the outcome of his trip, to see Benn joke, to hear his assistant able to banter, to feel he was back at the right place, was a blessing. This was his home and he would do everything to help keep the people who lived here, his friends, happy. By Maali, it was so good to be back.

“We’re in this damn room too often, lately,” Shanks grumbled as he let himself fall on the couch, next to Doc. Roo had found him in the garden, in one of the hammocks where he was reading his reports. If he had to get through those dratfully boring papers, at least he could do it in a pleasant environment. Now, though, they were back in his study and while he was excited to hear what Roo had to tell, he also had the feeling it wasn’t good news. He knew his friend and he had sounded too somber when he had told Shanks he would come back home, for it to be good news.

“We could change locations, if you want to,” Yasopp joked and Shanks stuck his tongue out at him.

“And be overheard. Nope. I didn’t put muffling seals over this room for nothing,” he retorted and only realized Doc and Roo looked at him with big eyes after a moment. “What?” He let his gaze wander from one man to the next, who all had found a place on the various couches and seats. Why was Benn the only one who didn’t look surprised? Probably, Shanks thought, because he could feel the seal. He sighed. “Do you really think I let our discussions be unprotected. Come on.”

“And here I thought it’s because no one ever bothers to look for you in your study,” Yasopp grumbled, which made Shanks laugh mischievously.

“Well, that, too.” Next to him he could feel more than see Doc roll his eyes. Roo snickered and Yasopp crossed his arms, but then grabbed a sandwich and took a big bite, probably to have the excuse of having his mouth full and not have to retort anything. Shanks took it as his clue to turn to Roo. “What have you found?”

Roo sighed and again Shanks had the feeling his friend wasn’t satisfied with what he had found out. Or not found out. It was visible in the way Roo’s expression turned dark, the lines on his face sharp. He looked older than he was somehow.

“The short version is that I have found nothing really, other than a lot of dead people,” Roo said and turned to Benn, who had pushed himself away from the backrest of his seat. With his elbows he leaned on his legs, back taunt. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think anything of what I found will help to understand that necklace better.”

The words lingered and Shanks watched Benn’s hands twitch, as if he wanted to grab for the necklace. He redirected the movement though and in the end rubbed his face. It broke Shanks’ heart a little but he could understand the feeling of hope crumbling. It didn’t mean he would stop working towards opening that damned thing around Benn’s neck, but it was a setback. They had hoped. They all had. Benn however surprised him, when he let himself fall back against the couch.

“It was a shot worth shooting. It’s not your fault nothing came from it.”

He could see Roo’s face crumble and when he rubbed some stray tears off it, Yasopp, who sat next to him slung an arm around his back. Benn however stood and reached for Roo’s hand. Shanks could hear the man murmur, kneeling in front of the other. “Hey, it’s not your fault, okay? I’m honored you even went out of your way for me.”

With his free hand Roo angrily wiped his eyes and his voice shook when he spoke. “I’m so fucking mad. It’s all so stupid and pointless. If I only found a good reason, but no. The people who killed your parents and put that thing on you were probably just fucking horrible people.”

Shanks took in a sharp breath at the words and when he spoke he realized his words were sharp. “Roo, care to explain?”

It wasn’t intended to be so harsh but somehow it managed to pull the other man out of his frenzy because his tears stopped. Roo sat a little straighter, Yasopp took back his arm from around Roo’s back and while Benn still kneeled in front of him, holding one hand, Roo now looked at him.

“It wasn’t hard to find out about the Rosenthorns. They were rich and well known. Not particularly liked but also not bad enough to be shunned. What I heard most about them I’d say they were snobbish.” That made Benn snort but he didn’t interrupt Roo. “You know, fancy gatherings, big jewels, high-quality clothes. Lots of words and no meaning. They liked to show themselves so when they didn’t anymore everyone in the area knew. All of them - the parents, the boy…” Roo looked at Benn and Benn supplied “Theodore.” Roo nodded, as he kept on. “... yes that one. His grandparents, even an uncle and his family were all killed. Apparently all on the same day. If I did the math correctly it was roughly half a year after you’d been sold, Benn.”

“Why?” Shanks asked. That must have been planned. “Did they have enemies?”

Roo shook his head. “Not that anyone knew of. But,” Roo said and then sighed. “I tried to find servants, friends, anyone but they all swore up, down and sideways that they had been a normal family and it had all been such a tragedy. At least until I found your old teacher’s daughter.” Roo looked at Benn and Benn’s back went rigid.

"Mister Redwood?” Benn asked.

“He died of old age,” Roo supplied and Benn’s shoulders sagged. Somehow there was relief in Benn’s eyes and for a moment Shanks wondered if Benn had been afraid that the only person who had been nice to him had been in on the plot. It seemed he hadn’t. “But he had written a diary which his daughter let me see. Apparently he had overheard the Rosenthorns being visited by someone regularly but always in secret. They would ask about you.”

“They did what?” Shanks snapped. Doc jumped a little next to him but Shanks’ eyes wandered from Roo to Benn. This was not nothing. What the fuck?

“It’s what clued me in, Shanks,” Roo answered and again his voice became angry. “Why would anyone be interested in a slave if not the people who made the person one? The diaries even gave me a name. Marshall. Ever heard about it?”

Roo’s eyes wandered from Shanks to Benn. Shanks watched Benn shrug his shoulders and Shanks himself wracked his brain but the name didn’t ring any bell. He had never heard about it.

“No. Who are those Marshalls?” he asked and Roo’s grim expression turned even grimmer.

“I don’t know. Because they are dead, too.”

“Why is everyone in this story dead?” Doc chimed in. “People don’t randomly get killed.”

Yasopp nodded at the words and Shanks could only agree. It sounded highly suspicious.

“No, normal people don’t. But people tapping into black magic do.”

The words left the room silent. For a moment all Shanks could do was process what he had just heard. Scenarios played before his inner eye, of the World Government hunting and killing some faceless men. A house once filled with life now dead. A crowd… he shut this particular line of thought down. “You sure…?”

“I know what you’re thinking, Shanks,” Roo said and Shanks could see in the way he was looked at that the other had followed his trail of thought. “But in this scenario I think the Government’s action had been justified. They lived in Whitebeard’s territory, close to the Dragon’s passage and everyone I asked said they had been a shady family, keeping to themselves. Rumors had it they were practicing black magic and no one was surprised when officers of the Government took them. The mansion is in ruins, no one is bold enough to take care of it because what if they could be accused of black magic, too? It’s been years. Must be close to when they killed Roger, too. It was definitely before Whitebeard took the area over. I want to say it’s not justified but knowing about Benn’s necklace, I can’t say it’s not.”

Shanks shook his head. He had to give it to Roo, his train of thought was reasonable. “So how does it fit with the death of the Rosenthorns?”

Roo shrugged. “I can only give you my guess, but if I had to bet on it, I would.” Shanks looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Do tell.”

“So, I’d wager - but again, with what I heard, I’m pretty sure I am right. The Marshalls had killed Benn’s parents for a reason I don’t know. Maybe they had one, maybe they were just horrible people. They enslaved Benn with a necklace forged with black magic. Something they used quite regularly. The Rosenthorns who probably made business with them were told to watch Benn. When the rumors about Roger using Black Magic became louder - and it got clearer that the Government will take action - the Rosenthorns got scared. They had connections to a family using Black Magic and a slave to prove it. So they sold Benn to get rid of the connection and when the Marshalls found out, they killed the Rosenthorns out of anger - but also to lose one threat that could clue in the Government. Which in the end didn’t help them because the Government still got rid of them.”

Roo’s voice faded and Shanks rubbed his face. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What a clusterfuck of revelations. It made a lot of sense, though.

“So, nothing in the house…?” But he knew there wasn’t because the Government was thorough when it came to Black Magic. If there had been any papers or objects about Black Magic or infused with it, they would have taken or destroyed them. The Government usually didn’t leave any trace of Black Magic. In this case they just didn’t know about Benn and his necklace, because he was long sold beforehand. Shanks didn’t want to know what would have happened to him if not. The Government didn’t care for single people. If they had a connection to Black Magic, even unfounded like Benn … it made Shanks shudder and he willed himself to stop this particular thought.

“No, I scanned it. No trace of any magic left.” Roo answered, voice still bitter. Shanks could understand him. So much destruction for such stupid reasons. He hated everything about the story but most that none of it helped to open Benn’s necklace. What a fucking waste.

It was silent. It was silent until Benn pushed himself up from his kneeling position and spoke. “I know this doesn’t help opening the necklace. But at least they are dead and can’t put another one on anyone else. If this revelation is good for anything, then it’s for knowing as much.”

Hearing the words, all Shanks could do was stare at Benn. Under all the pain and loss kindness had been forged to form a man living to protect others from enduring the same harm as him. Shanks silently vowed to himself he would protect this kindness, with everything he had. Because it was what Benn deserved.

Chapter Text

It bugged Shanks that Roo hadn’t found anything that would help him open Benn’s necklace, but there was nothing he could change. Benn’s words still hung in the air, when Shanks pushed himself off his seat. “I guess we can go back to our daily business. I will ask Rayleigh about the name Marshall but I haven’t been able to contact him in weeks, so until he reappears we have to wait.”

Next to him Doc nodded but before Shanks could turn towards the door of the study, Yasopp stopped him.

“Actually, would you mind discussing the Murray brothers, first?”

Goddess, he had almost forgotten about them. With a heavy sigh he flopped back onto the couch and nodded towards Yasopp to keep on speaking. Not before he turned to Doc, though. “I guess you can go, if you want to.” After all, Doc didn’t have to concern himself with finances. But his doctor just shrugged and took a sandwich, intending to listen in. Which was fine with Shanks.

He watched Benn sit back down and Yasopp turn to Roo. Ah, well yeah, Roo hadn’t had the faintest clue about the two brothers cheating their way into money. Shanks hadn’t wanted to distract him from his investigations, not to mention they only had talked the bare minimum. Magical calls were relatively easy to execute but still cost energy.

“Roo, remember you told me food prices have become pretty steep in the last few months?” Yasopp asked and the other man nodded. “Benn took it upon himself to budget for ingredients and found out which items have become expensive. He found out they were very specific ones and to keep it short, further investigation revealed the Murray brothers - two of the biggest farmers we buy from - increased their prices over the last six months to what is at least double the market price.”

“I never liked them,” Roo muttered at the words and his expression turned sour. Well, if it could turn even more sour. Poor man, this wasn’t his best day. Shanks would give him another day off, before he had to return to work. He wished he could give all of them some time off, but it wasn’t the right time.

“Well, yeah, understandable. They both are a piece of shit,” Yasopp said and his tone was angry. “They didn’t only cheat us but several other citizens of Manoas.” Now Yasopp turned towards him and Shanks could see the fury in Yasopp’s face. He had heard snippets of it, but he really didn’t like where this was going. He could forgive them for cheating him, but never his people.

“Shanks, they undermined some of the other farmers. They not only increased their prices but we have evidence that they bought supplies from other farmers to force people to turn towards them for purchases. I have at least a dozen names that had to cut into their savings because of it and just yesterday I loaned money to a small bakery to stop them from shutting down their business because the exorbitant flour prices almost ruined them.”

He took a deep breath. Each word brought Shanks closer to rage but seeing Yasopp so furious reminded him that he had to keep his head. It wouldn’t help anyone to rush into conclusions and ill-thought through decisions. Not to mention he was quite sure this wasn’t all.

“If your solution would be to just shut the farm down, you would have said so. Tell me why we can’t do that,” Shanks asked and to his surprise it wasn’t Yasopp who answered. Benn turned towards him and an involuntary shudder rushed through Shanks. Benn’s grey eyes were sharp and there was something in them that felt intoxicating. Mad, too, but there was some protectiveness that Shanks couldn’t deny neither resist. Goddess, he was so fucked. Friends… friends!

“They are the biggest suppliers for wheat, eggs and poultry. If we shut down the farms, Manoas will have a massive food shortage in those categories. They produce household staples which is why they even managed to increase the price and still be able to sell. What we need is to find a solution to keep the farm running without allowing the brothers to be in charge. The problem is that we don’t have enough farmers in the palace to manage this much land. Not with our own fields to tend to. The Murray brothers may be frauds and thieves but they possess the knowledge to tend the - if you combine both - third biggest farm in a fifty mile radius.”

Shanks sighed at the words. Well, he understood the problem. Did he have a solution? Not really. But he would find one, that was for sure. He owned it to his people. Then he blinked when Benn continued.

“I have two to three ideas about what we could do. I’m not sure which one is the best, I guess I’d have to talk to them first to find out more about the farm’s circumstances. I also would like to have access to their books to find out exactly which people they cheated on. It could help redistribute the money back towards their victims.”

Yes, Shanks had been right. Benn was as protective and righteous as all his other close friends. There was a reason he was slowly - well not slowly but fast and hard - falling for him. Which was all good, as long as he could keep his desires in check. That was a problem for another day. Now he felt rather vindictive. A sly smirk appeared on his face. The Murray brothers wouldn’t know what hit them once he was done with them. He, Yasopp, Roo and apparently Benn, too. “You know, Benn, no one says no to a nicely worded invitation from their Yonko. When do you want them here?”

Benn shrugged. “Maybe the end of the week? It gives me time to sort the numbers, flesh out the ideas and confront them with it. Earlier if I can have time away from the kitchen.”

Shanks nodded, still grinning. “End of week it is. Roo, you take tomorrow off to settle back in, then relieve Benn of his kitchen duty. Benn, for the love of Maali, take at least two days off before you go back to the books. Yasopp, Roo, Benn - we’ll give the Murrays a very warm welcome on Sunday.”

The buzz of conversations was loud around him as Shanks poured himself some coffee. He had put his plate with breakfast down on the table to have both hands free. It was loaded with scrambled eggs, some bacon, a pita bread that was still warm and hummus. His favorite kind, too, with some tomato flavor. He poured milk into his coffee, reached for the sugar and let two cubes fall into the mug, too. Then he turned and looked around the hall. Almost all tables were full with his people, chatting, enjoying their meal and it warmed his heart to see them smile. Then his eyes fell on a figure and the way his heart skipped a beat felt almost familiar by now. Black hair was held back into a ponytail, shimmering a little in the morning light. He shook his head to quench the fluttering feeling in his stomach and even though he didn’t allow it to become pooling heat he wasn’t strong enough to not admire the broad shoulders for at least a moment. Then he pushed the thoughts and feelings way down. He could admire, but he couldn’t let it get the better of him. Benn was more important than that. He was his friend. Which thankfully allowed him to walk straight towards him.

“... come with us later to see Makino and Luffy?” Shanks heard Ririka ask, who sat across from Benn and looked at the other man with a question in her eyes. The way she eyed Benn made her almost look worried.

“I don’t know, I should maybe go over the numbers again. After all, the meeting is tomorrow,” Benn answered. Shanks knew that he was talking about the meeting with the Murray brothers because Benn had asked Shanks if he could tell Ririka and Kai about it. It was hard to miss that Benn had stopped working in the kitchen and rather spent quite some time over the accounting books.

“No, you shouldn’t go over the numbers again,” Shanks said from behind Benn’s back and grinned mischievously when the other jumped a little. Benn turned and then scooted over to make space for him. He sat down on the bench, putting down his mug and plate and grinned at Kai, who had been next to Benn until now. Then he turned back to Benn. “You’ve been looking at the books for days. I wouldn’t be surprised if you knew the numbers by heart by now.”

Benn snorted next to him, but there was a slight red shimmer on his cheeks. “Of course I know them by heart,” he muttered and Shanks sighed inaudibly. This man. Then he turned to Ririka, who looked at the exchange with curious eyes while she helped her daughter cut some sausage without even looking at the plate. He always felt kind of impressed by the abilities mothers possessed.

“Ririka, dear,” he said putting some dramatic emphasis in his voice. “Would you do your favourite Yonko a favour and get this stubborn idiot away from the books, so he can stop stressing himself out? I would be forever in your favor.”

“It would be my deepest pleasure, your highness,” Ririka answered solemnly before she erupted into giggling laughter. Which made Rika look at her with big eyes. “But Mama, he is a highness, why is that so funny?”

With the words the table exploded into laughter and Shanks saw how Benn rubbed his face, seemingly embarrassed, but he was smiling, which was enough for Shanks. After a while of listening to the idle conversation between the family and Benn hashing out the details of their visit to Makinos, Ririka gave the magical sun dial on one of the pillars a look and sighed. “Time to get you to school,” she said towards her daughter and then turned to her husband, “and you.”

“Hey,” Kai protested but stood, “I’m not the one who needs twenty minutes to wake up.” Then he looked at his daughter. “Come, Rika, say goodbye to our friends.”

It wouldn’t have needed much prompting because Rika was already rushing around the big table and Benn caught her as she jumped into his arms. “Goodbye. See you later, Benn,” she said with glee and Shanks couldn’t stop himself from smiling. The girl was such a joy. Becoming close to Benn had involuntarily led to him becoming close to Ririka, Kai and Rika as well. Such seemed to be the nature of friendships. It grew if you gave it enough room and nurture. Then, before he could even do anything other than react, he had his lap full of a little girl as well, small arms around his neck. “Goodbye, too, Shanks, highness.”

Next to him Benn suppressed laughter but all Shanks could do was press Rika a little closer and stick out his tongue at the other man. These were the moments that made being a Yonko absolutely worth it.

Benn stood at the door, while he watched Doc examine Rika with a friendly smile. The girl had stopped vomiting about half an hour ago and it felt absolutely wrong to see her so pale with her limbs shaking. Light magic was in the air but Doc had only used it to get a hold on what had made the girl throw up. The way their doctor didn’t look too concerned eased Benn’s mind a little. They had been maybe two to three hours at Makino’s house when Rika had said her stomach hurt. Not even ten minutes later she had vomited and the moment it had eased up for just a moment, they had said their goodbyes to Makino and Luffy, to go see their Doc. Thankfully Rika hadn’t needed to throw up on their way back to the palace.

“I’ve been told you like flowers,” Benn heard Doc say and Rika nodded but her eyes gleamed a little. “Well good because then you will like those.” Something shifted in the air and when Doc opened his hand he held some white flower petals. Something made a clinking sound a little at the side, where the table with some medicine stood and Benn realized the doctor must have used a place switching spell. It was impressive enough to cheer Rika up. “Put it in some hot water and drink it and your stomach will feel all better, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you Mister Doctor,” Rika said and it made Doc smile.

“Brave girl,” he answered and then turned to Ririka and Kai, who had watched without saying anything. “I’m pretty sure it was just too much food and isn’t contagious but if you feel any unease please call for me, immediately.” Then he turned towards the table and filled more of the white flowers from a big jar into a smaller pouch. “What I gave your daughter is chamomile tea,” he said and put a band around the pouch to close it, before he handed it to Kai. “Make sure she’s drinking enough, let her rest and if she feels like it, she can eat some bread or soup later. She should be right as rain tomorrow. If anything changes, though, call me.”

“Thank you, Doc.” There was sincere gratitude in Ririka’s eyes and Kai nodded.

“Not for that. Now, off you go,” he smiled and Kai handed the tea pouch to his wife while he lifted his daughter up into his arms.

“Bye bye, Mister Doc,” Rika murmured against her father’s chest and Benn shook his head in amusement, despite the situation. Had he ever believed he could adore a child as much as he adored Rika? Then he opened the door for Kai as the man hadn’t had any hand free.

“Seems like I have time to go over the numbers, anyway,” Benn murmured when Ririka was next to him. They both followed Kai out the medical quarter. Ririka however just gave him a little punch to his side.

“Don’t you dare. I promised a Yonko.”

It made Benn laugh. “It’s not like he will do anything about it,” he said but his expression turned somber again not moments after his joke. Why was he so nervous about the damn meeting tomorrow? He wouldn’t be alone, anyway. But he knew it were his ideas that would be discussed and Shanks had told him he would follow his lead. “I just don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

Ririka stopped and then swiftly hugged Benn, who took a moment to process the touch but then placed his arms around the woman’s back as well, letting her carry his weight for just a moment. “It will be fine, Benn. You will do great and those brothers won’t be able to ruin another person’s life. You’re doing more for this palace than you think.”

Benn gulped down his reply and let the words wash over him. He decided to believe them.

It was way earlier in the day when Benn entered his bedroom than he had originally thought he’d return after everyone at breakfast had convinced him to join Ririka, Kai and Rika to visit Makino. Nevertheless it was close to evening and the sun was shimmering golden through the window. It was the golden hour in all its glory. Benn smiled and rubbed his eyes. He was just glad that Rika would be fine. He really had worried for her. But Doc was a good - no, an excellent doctor and if he said the girl would be fine tomorrow, she would be fine.

It just left him with the question what to do with the rest of the evening. While he could go over the books again, he actually knew he didn’t need to. He hadn’t been lying when he had said he knew the numbers by heart. He had wanted to browse the library simply for reading, though. Maybe a book about seafarers and far away lands. Professor Clover surely could point him to the right section.

Just when he wanted to turn, Benn heard a little whimper and the idea to go to the library was wiped from his mind. Another whimper led him to the connecting door towards Shanks’ room. It was quite early for the other to already be asleep, but Benn didn’t put it past Shanks to have let the meeting tomorrow eat at his sleep. The added stress might be an explanation for the nightmares to have returned, too. If he had fallen asleep over his papers, again, Benn would scold him, Yonko or not.

He pushed the door open and his gaze fell on the bed - and made Benn stop in his tracks frozen in the movement. Thoughts crashed into him, like waves, mixed with panic and shock. His throat was dry while his eyes couldn’t turn away from the image in front of him.

There on the bed sat Shanks, eyes closed and mouth a little open. His cheeks were flushed and made the three scars over his eye stand out in a way they usually didn’t. His shirt was open and hung loosely around his torso, his pants just shoved down enough to reveal his hips and the hand that was pumping his cock in leisurely strokes. He let the wall carry his weight, a single drop of sweat was running down his chest and vanished in his belly button.

Benn knew he should turn around, just go and pretend he had never seen anything. It would be better for his sanity and Shanks’, as well. But he couldn’t stop looking and then his gaze caught something golden shimmering in the sun. It was the owner’s ring on Shanks’ finger, on the hand that didn’t stop stroking up and down. Goddess, he… he… he reminded himself that Shanks had never done him any harm. This was the man who had given him a home, shown him friendship and was willing to free him.

Another - what Benn now realized was a moan, not a whimper - fell from Shanks’ lips. He watched Shanks tip his head back, red strands falling into his face and for a short moment all Benn could think was how beautiful the other man was. Muscles under tanned skin showed in his arms, he was lean and tall and even in his undressed state emitted a regal aura. The thought was gone the moment another moan sounded through the room and this time Benn could make out a name. His name.

“Benn,” Shanks sighed and it short-circuited something in Benn’s brain. He was no fool. Even when Shanks thought he didn’t see it, he was aware of the looks he was given. Which Benn had always decided to not give any thought to because the other had never done more than that, had always made clear what he wanted was friendship. Which Benn couldn’t do anything other than believe. Shanks was a good man, he did so much and more for Benn, to set him free and he deserved … everything. If he wanted Benn, Benn could give him that. It wouldn’t be like all the other times because Shanks wasn’t like his former masters. It would be… fine. It wouldn’t hurt, that Benn knew. Wasn’t that enough? After all sex was what he was good at.

Instead of stepping out of the room, he let the door fall shut behind him and stepped into the room. It must be the sound of the click, because suddenly Shanks’ eyes flew open and his gaze bore into his. “Benn,” he said with a breathless voice, watching him with big, round eyes as Benn first loosened the scarf around his neck and then pulled the shirt he wore over his head in one swift movement. His heart beat in his chest, but this would be different because it was his decision and didn’t that mean something?

Chapter Text

Shanks had allowed himself to give into the urge of fantasizing about Benn, because otherwise he wasn’t sure how to cope anymore with the desire deep within him. To know Benn was far away at Makino’s and wouldn’t return for another few hours helped. He just couldn’t stop his brain from conjuring images. Why must Benn be such a handsome man, with his long, black hair, the angular face, the way his eyes could crinkle amusedly and shimmer in the right light? With his broad arms and fair skin? Shanks would throw all this beauty to the wind if it wasn’t for Benn to be so unfairly good, too. The man cared so much, even though he had been through so much pain in his life. Yet, Benn hadn’t let it make him hard. Instead he poured countless hours into accounting books for people under his, Shanks’ responsibility and he indulged small Rika’s antics. He took the bad news Roo had brought with grace and Shanks wanted to be allowed to worship the man. To kiss him breathless, to whisper into his ear what a beautiful person he was inside and out, to fall to his knees before the other and serve like it was unfit for a Yonko to do. He wanted to bring Benn to heights with his hands, tongue and body and he wanted to fall asleep next to Benn afterwards, without the excuse of nightmares, but just to have that warmth close. He wanted to erase all the pain that the other man had ever felt, look into his eyes and see happiness.

His eyes shot open, when he heard the click. All thoughts vanished when he saw Benn stand before him, like he had conjured the man through his most secret desires. Why was he here? Shouldn’t he be still at Makino’s place, having a pleasant evening with friends?

He was unable to move when Benn stepped towards the bed he was sitting on, removing first his scarf and then his shirt. Distantly he was aware he was still in a heavy state of undress, cock hard and pulsing in the loose grip he held it in. Most of his brain however tried to process that the man he was yearning for was coming incredibly close and losing his clothing on the way. Goddess, but he was beautiful, all pale skin and prominent abs and somewhere someone was whimpering and it took a moment for Shanks to realize it was him.

“Benn, what… what are you doing?” Shanks managed to ask, when Benn placed a knee on his bed. By now the other was only clad in his trousers and those hung dangerously low. By Maali, he wanted to touch so badly but his body felt frozen solid.

“Giving you what you want,” Benn murmured and the words made Shanks’ body shiver in both anticipation and apprehension. He was helpless. He was entranced. He moaned involuntarily when Benn leaned close and let his fingers slide over his arm until he circled his wrist to softly but firmly pull his hand away from his cock.

“Are you… you don’t… Benn?” To form a normal sentence was impossible and Shanks couldn’t grasp the situation enough to form the decision whether this was really what should play out. He wanted Benn. He wanted this, but…

“It’s okay. It’s what you deserve and what I’m good at,” Benn said and it was those words that pulled Shanks out of his shock. With trepidation he forced himself to look into Benn’s face, to really look and what he saw made him pull back. The emptiness in Benn’s eyes, the distant look - it was something Shanks never wanted to see again, never wanted to inflict onto the man he loved and it made this not alright.

“Stop,” Shanks said, louder than he maybe needed to but he couldn’t help himself. “Benn, stop that.”

He did. While Shanks knew Benn had wanted to continue where he himself had stopped, pumping him to increase the pleasure, instead the man sat back on his haunches in front of the bed. The distant look made way for irritation and while it wasn’t per se a good look on Benn, it was better than the expression he had worn before.

“But,” Benn murmured and then he looked at Shanks. Somehow the intense gaze was more intimate then the way Benn had leaned close just moments before. The urge to kiss those lips until there was bliss on his face was like a strong force inside Shanks but he stomped it down. It was not helpful. “It’s what you want. I heard you say my name.”

Somehow the words made Shanks incredibly sad. He wanted to hold Benn, his hand twitched but he refrained from touching, not knowing if it was really wanted. Or whether it would help the situation. Shanks doubted it.

“It’s not what you want,” he said. The reality of the life Benn had led before Shanks had freed him made itself painfully clear. His own desires, his own feelings had never mattered. Benn had needed to please whenever and wherever his former masters had wanted. It was not what sex should be like. It was all Benn knew. “And it’s not what I want from you, too.”

“It’s not like you forced me,” Benn answered and there was anger lacing through his voice. It took Shanks by surprise. He was doing this for Benn. Why was the other man such a dolt? Absent-mindedly Shanks reached for the blanket that had lain forgotten next to him to at least cover his hips. The material brushed his still half-hard erection and he suppressed the shiver it sent through him.

“I would never force you!” He knew it wasn’t good to react to Benn’s anger with his own anger, but he couldn’t help himself. There was still the pent-up arousal coursing through him and this situation was ridiculous.

“You didn’t!” Benn pushed himself up and leaned with his hands on the bed, which brought him closer to Shanks. He had the wall behind him, couldn’t put more distance between them, yet he didn’t even think of wanting to pull away either. Instead he returned the stare he was given. “Tell me you don’t want me and I will be out of your hair.”

“I don’t want you out of my hair,” Shanks replied and he couldn’t really pinpoint the edge that was in his voice. Too many emotions swarmed him and he wasn’t sure if it was his suppressed desire or anger that spoke out of him. Maybe both. Maybe it was the irritation about Benn’s stubbornness. Maybe it was the unstoppable wish to give this man everything of him and even more, to show him what it meant to be allowed to want. He reached for Benn’s shoulders and held onto them, knowing his breath must be tangible on Benn’s face. “Goddess, Benn, of course I want you. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. The way your eyes laugh when you do, the way your hair shimmers in the light, but also how fucking amazing you are. You are intelligent, warm and so full of compassion. I would be a fool not to want you.”

“Then why?” Benn whispered and Shanks sighed.

“Because I also want you to be happy and this would not make you so. It would bring you back to places I never want you to be in, ever again.” His gaze that had held Benn’s dropped and his voice became somber. “Also, I’m selfish. I want you to want me. Which you clearly don’t.”

All of this had gone sideways in a way Benn hadn’t been able to predict. When he had closed the door his mind had conjured an image of how he would please Shanks and he had forbidden himself to be repulsed by it. Shanks was a good man and this would be good. If Shanks wanted him, Benn knew how to make the other man come undone.

Now instead of pleasing Shanks, Benn wasn’t sure if this was considered a fight. It was definitely a discussion and the anger inside him cut short his usually calm thought-through words. What he wasn’t sure about was whether Benn was angry with Shanks or with himself. What did ‘I want you to want me’ even mean? It was, after all, Benn’s decision. No one was forcing him to do this.

“I am happy!” Benn wanted to shout. He didn’t. But he so desperately wanted to make Shanks see that all of this was his way of telling the other man how thankful he was to be here, to be by his side. Shanks had freed him, had made his life exorbitantly better and now he was presented with a chance to give Shanks something he desired. If it was sex, he could give that. Why was he not allowed to show his appreciation? “You gave me a home, you gave me friendship. Let me give this to you?”

Shanks stared at him and suddenly there were tears shimmering in his eyes. He had looked sad before but the expression had intensified tenfold with Benn’s words. Something cut through his heart. This was not what he wanted. This was not… it wasn’t right.

“You don’t owe me sex for freeing you, Benn,” Shanks whispered, but it was loud enough in the otherwise silent room for him to hear every word. Suddenly it dawned on Benn why Shanks said no, why he was rejected and numbness filled his every fiber. Without thinking about it he pulled back, let himself fall back on his legs as he had before, sitting in front of Shanks’ bed. His ears were ringing. A bitter laugh bubbled up his chest and he couldn’t stop himself.

“You don’t think I can make my own decisions because all you see is the slave I was,” Benn muttered, more to himself than to Shanks. Because it was the only explanation in his mind that was left. Shanks was such a good man that he would never force his own wishes onto someone else, even if it was offered to him. But while he thought that Benn would appreciate it, it also took away what Benn had thought he had for the first time in his life. A choice. Now it was taken from him. “The slave I still am.”

“That’s not true! Benn,” Shanks shouted but he didn’t register the words. He would never be on equal footing with Shanks, or Roo or Yasopp or the rest of the people in this palace. He had thought he was. He had felt free, he had felt like he had finally found a home, people he cared about. Who cared about him. This was how a free man lived, he had thought. This was what he had wanted, to see someone like Shanks look at him and see him on the same level, feel like they saw eye to eye. But it wasn’t the case because nothing would ever erase the pity for his past. Suddenly the weight of the necklace around his neck was unbearable, the gold seemingly burning him even though it wasn’t.

“I will never be free from my past,” he pressed through gritted teeth. His hands reached for the necklace he wore. He had often wondered if freedom was worth more than his life. Today he had found his answer. Never before had he wanted this thing off more than now. To hell with his own life if he couldn’t even decide for himself to give back to the only man who had ever done more than enough for him to deserve it. To the seven heavens with it, Maali could have him back, burn him, burn this miserable life he had lived. The five years of his childhood he couldn’t remember anymore and roughly two, three months here in Manoas, in Shanks’ palace. He would have loved to have more, to feel more, to give more but not like this. Never like this.

“Benn, stop! Please, Benn stop!” The voice was a distant thunder. His fingers felt the metal, he clawed into it. Tears slipped from his eyes but he didn’t register them and if he had he wouldn’t care. “Don’t. Goddess, Benn. No!”

“I just wanted to make you happy.” Benn knew the words sounded like a good-bye. Even though he would have rather wanted them to be a ‘Hello, I’m home’ it wasn’t his place.

He started to pull. Something shifted in the air. Words clashed into him like a slap. “Then stop that you fucking idiot!”

Fear. All Shanks could feel was crippling fear. Benn was reaching for his necklace like a man drowning in grief. He would die over a stupid miscommunication. Because he was a fucking idiot with a martyrer complex.

Shanks would not let that happen. As he reached for Benn’s hands, magic filled the air - drawn out of instinct - and when he spoke his words were filled with the fear he felt. The colors were muted around him, dark and drenched with his emotions. Before anything could happen, Shanks had pulled Benn’s hands away from the cursed metal and held them, his grip like iron shackles.

“Don’t you dare,” he spitted into Benn’s face who looked at him with shock in his eyes. “Never do that again, do you hear me? Never!”

Goddess was he angry. Angry and afraid, but now that he held Benn’s hands it was the anger that came bubbling out of the deepest corners of his soul. He had sat up, leaning - no, towering - over Benn who was still sitting in front of his bed. The blanket he had covered himself with had fallen away with the movement, but Shanks couldn’t give a flying fuck about his exposedness.

“Shanks…,” Benn whispered, not even attempting to get his hands free. And Shanks didn’t loosen his grip.

“You want me to be happy? Then start to live your life, instead of trying to end it! I never saw you as a slave. I will never define you through your past. I couldn’t care less that you were a pleasure slave.” The air shifted again, this time the colors were bright and swirling and woven into the speech Shanks was giving. “I care for you, because you are you, Benn. Because you are bright and warm and selfless. Fuck that necklace you’re forced to wear. It does not define you.” Something heavy settled on Shanks’ neck, cold and unforgiving. He welcomed the feeling with a cold fury he hadn’t felt in a long time. “Believe me when I say I will happily prove it.”

“Shanks, don’t. You’re insane,” Benn said, almost begged. “Not for me. Don’t, please. Don’t.” Something else shifted in the air. Colors changed their hues slightly but he had no mind to give it any thought.

A soft click sounded through the room, louder than it should be. A necklace, similar to Benn’s, settled around Shanks’ neck and a ring appeared out of nowhere and fell between the two bodies on the floor.

“Yes, especially for you, Benn.”

This was insanity. An insanity Benn couldn’t stop, even if he wanted to. Shanks was conjuring his old necklace, the one that had marked him as a slave when he had been young. The magic that surrounded them was so strong Benn was sure he could even taste it. The hairs on his skin stood up, goosebumps crawled all over him and he shivered. No, no, no.

Shanks shouldn’t endure the feeling of metal around his neck again. Madness. It was madness. And dangerous. He was a Yonko and it would make him vulnerable. Benn instinctively knew that Shanks was not messing around. The necklace he summoned was to stay. Until… he needed to see. He needed to see, because Shanks’ words didn’t align with the spell. He was powerful enough and had demonstrated enough times that he could say one thing and cast another. Benn needed to know what Shanks was casting because it mattered. He did it for him. For Benn. Benn would not let it hurt Shanks and if it was the last thing he did. He needed to see the magic!

Colors flickered into existence and the shock that it worked made them disappear instantly. “Shanks, don’t,” he begged and with his desperation the colors returned. It took all his concentration to focus on the swathes of magic. So many words that Shanks willed into existence without saying them. Benn’s eyes became wide when he realized what Shanks was doing. He realized he was still talking, begging for the other to stop but a bigger part of Benn’s brain was occupied with making out the magic Shanks was using. This fucking madman.

Shanks was binding the necklace that appeared on his own neck to his own, Benn’s. The same rules, the same restrictions. One thing stood out like a beacon and it scared Benn. Only when his necklace opened would Shanks’ open as well.

Days of pain came to Benn’s memory. Burning flesh and blood and the desperation of having his own magic restricted by whatever curse lay on the necklace. No. No he would not let Shanks endure this, too. Not the pain and not the fear and not the horrid knowledge that one pull could end a life.

They had said he was strong. Roo and Yasopp and Doc and Shanks himself. While he knew he would never be as strong as Shanks, he was willing to test their theory. As he begged Shanks to stop, he lay all his determination into the words. He focused on the colors that promised pain, promised death and willed them into another hue. A brighter, lighter hue. Cutting out the burning, cutting out the restrictions, cutting out the idea of a binding necklace so it would never be able to hurt Shanks.

Some colors changed. Some became a little brighter. Then the necklace around Shanks' neck clicked into place. Something made a sound as if metal hit stone and all energy left Benn. He swayed in Shanks' grip and only the hands around his wrists held him upright.

“Benn? Benn?!” Shanks almost shouted, when he realized that Benn was dangerously close to slipping sideways. The man’s shoulders had suddenly sagged as if all energy had left him. Instead of keeping the grip on his wrists, Shanks reached for Benn’s upper body to steady him. After a moment Benn seemed to get a grip on himself because he pulled back, straightening his back.

“A little dramatic, even for you,” Benn murmured, a weak grin on his face and for a moment all Shanks wanted to do was to slap him. He didn’t dare take his hands away from the man, though, so he wouldn’t fall. When Benn realized his joke hadn’t landed the way he intended to, the edges of his mouth fell. “I’m sorry, Shanks.”

It sounded sincere. It sounded exhausted, but sincere and for a moment all Shanks could do was close his eyes. “You, Benn, are a fucking idiot.”

“So you said,” Benn murmured, took an audible breath and continued. “I really am sorry. I scared you. I was…” Shanks opened his eyes to see a dozen emotions cross Benn’s face. He was sure there were many endings to this sentence, probably all true, but Benn settled on “... hurt.”

“Do you believe me now, that the necklace will never define you?” Shanks asked. He needed to know… he needed to know Benn would not do what he had tried to do again. Not because Shanks had linked their necklaces, but because he never wanted to see Benn in such pain, ever. The idea to lose him was horrifying.

“I’m not sure I can do anything else, other than believe you,” Benn answered. With careful movements Benn lifted his hand and when he touched the ruby of Shanks’ necklace, Shanks shuddered. He needed to get used to the feeling of the gold around his neck again. For Benn he would.

For a moment all that the two of them did was exist. Exist in this strange moment of intimacy. Exist in this moment that had changed both their lives. It wasn’t even a question, but a fact Shanks just accepted. He had known that freeing Benn would change him, change everything for him, the moment he had looked at the man back then in a random auction house in a far away city of Kaidou’s territory. Yet, Shanks couldn’t mind those changes too much. Because when he was truthful to himself he knew loving Benn was one of the best things that ever had happened to him. The way the magic still resonated around them, flecks of distant colors in the air, was proof enough.

“You know,” Shanks murmured and finally slipped his trousers back up, closed them and then let himself down on the floor, next to Benn. His hand reached for the ring that lay on the ground. The carvings were subtle but there, marking it as an owner’s ring. “this is yours.”

“Are you sure?” Benn asked quietly and Shanks smiled at him, his expression full of warmth, nodding. When Benn held out his hand, Shanks slipped the ring onto the man’s finger. It felt weirdly intimate.

“I will forever keep it sa-” Benn said and then his words stopped, while Shanks watched his eyes roll back. The next moment, he fell sideways. All Shanks could do was reach for him, let Benn slump against his shoulder as a wave of magic crashed into him, too, taking him under, drowning him. His own vision turned blurry. Fuck.

Chapter Text

He was drowning, pulled away by the force of magic rushing into… Shanks took a deep breath and let the feeling wash over him. It wasn’t him that was pulled away by the rush of magic, it was Benn. He was feeling Benn’s magic. He was feeling… that whatever had blocked Benn’s magic before was lifted. It felt like a dam had been broken and what had been a water reservoir now finally could find its way back to its original state. Like a river. Like, Shanks realized in shock, how his own magic always felt.

With steady breaths he let the feeling wash over him until he felt secure. Then he blinked the blurriness away and concentrated on Benn, who lay in his arms. Lifeless. Not moving a single muscle. No! Panic replaced everything else.

“Doc!” he shouted, in his mind but maybe also out loud. Shanks wasn’t so sure as he was concentrating on the magical call. He wasn’t knocking at his doctor’s mind, but kicking the fucking door down. There was no possible way the man didn’t hear him. The answer came promptly and it spoke for his friend that it was almost eerily calm. Only a small edge in the man’s voice told he was anxious.

“I hear you. What happened?” Shanks heard the familiar voice in his mind as if Doc stood next to him. He looked at Benn and instead of answering - because how to describe the last… how much time had passed since Benn had entered his room anyway? It felt like a lifetime - he sent the picture he was seeing through the connection. Benn, slumped in his arms, pale as the moon and only shallowly breathing. Doc’s gasp was audible even through the magic.

“Fuck. Where are you?” Doc asked and Shanks answered promptly.

“In my room.”

“I’m on my way.” Shanks sighed. Thank the goddess. Distantly he still felt magic crashing through … not him, but Benn. Waves of waves crashing against river banks that had been dry. How did that happen? He had copied the necklace, Shanks was aware of that much but if anything shouldn’t it restrict him? Which came to him suddenly and maybe he should have given those consequences more thought. But he had been so fucking angry and not thinking straight. As Shanks felt inside himself he didn’t feel his own magic be restricted. It was still the wild, bubbling power it had always been. No restrictions, no block, just the force he had always seen as a friend. Putting on the necklace had somehow not constrained his magic, but opened up Benn’s. Weird.

“Is Benn still breathing?” Doc asked through the connection. The question wiped out all the thoughts Shanks had. As softly and delicately as he could, Shanks shifted the body that was slumped against him, so Benn finally lay on the floor, his head in Shanks’ lap. In this position Benn at least couldn’t fall down.

“Yes, but shallowly,” Shanks replied. With his thump he brushed strands of black hair from Benn’s face that had fallen out of his ponytail. He could feel the puffs of breath against his hand. Seconds felt like hours, time seemed like honey. Sticky. Pertinacious. The second-hand feeling of magic finding its natural way softened. Towering waves became smaller, the roaring river that had pulled under everything in its way stretched out and became calmer. Calmer than Shanks’ own magic. It still flowed, it still was in movement but as it eased out Shanks realized how his own magic was wild and searching and pushing borders further and further away, especially in comparison to Benn’s magic, that he felt so clearly as if it was his own. Was this how it was supposed to feel when he came off age? Magic, never still but calm? Shanks didn’t know.

His eyes flew to the door when it was pushed open. All thoughts about coming off age, about the flow of magic, were wiped from his mind. His instincts took over, senses alert and ready to fight, until he saw Doc’s face. Something heavy fell from his heart. Doc was here. Benn would be alright. He had to be alright.

Shanks felt out of place when he watched Doc lower himself to his knees, next to them, words already on his lips. Colors appeared in the air when he cast words to detect any injuries. They shifted into words to stabilize only moments later. The colors seemed to sink into Benn’s body. After what felt too long but were probably only some moments, Shanks could see how color returned to Benn’s face. Then his eyes fluttered open and Shanks was grazed with the most beautiful sight of grey-blue eyes looking at him confusedly.

Something was… not wrong. It didn’t feel wrong. It felt - different. Like he had lived under a glass dome and someone had finally pulled it away, for him to breathe fresh air for the first time in his life. His eyes fluttered open and Benn could make out Shanks’ worried face. He was laying on the ground, he realized, probably with his head in Shanks’ lap. What had … then suddenly it came to him what had led to his state. Finding Shanks in his room, his stupid assumption Shanks had taken his choice, his sudden urge to rip his necklace off, the way Shanks had stopped him and given him the same power over him as Shanks had over Benn. His attempt to stop the magic from ever hurting Shanks… He tried to push himself up, a thought so suddenly coming to him it made his head swirl. But before he could move hands were on his shoulders and kept him in place.

“You’ll stay put,” a familiar voice said sharply and when he turned his head, Benn could see Doc kneeling next to him. How long had he been unconscious? It didn’t matter.

“Shanks,” Benn said and realized his voice sounded rough. But he needed to know. “Is your magic …” How to even end this sentence? But all Shanks did was smile at him, something in his eyes Benn couldn’t parse. It wasn’t bad, though. It was… happy? Relieved? Grateful? Maybe all of it. But not bad. Never bad with this man.

“If I’m not mistaken, you should be able to find out yourself,” Shanks answered and for a moment Benn wondered what the other meant. Then he listened inside of himself. There was his magic, somehow new but yet familiar. It flowed… it flowed? What? What the fuck? He decided to think about that particular information later. Instead he let his senses reach out and when he felt it, his eyes became huge. Something roaring, wild and almost too much was just in front of his fingertips. He couldn’t touch it, but he felt it. Just like he stood next to a waterfall and was able to feel the mist of it on his skin he could feel Shanks’ magic reverberating inside him. Not for him to use, but it was there. All of it, free and dancing, singing, rejoicing, without shackles and so, so much.

“Holy goddess,” Benn muttered. “How? Why?”

“That is an excellent question,” Doc cut in, sounding bemused, his gaze wandering from Shanks to Benn and back to Shanks. “Would someone explain to me what in the seven heavens happened and why in the goddesses name you are wearing a slave’s necklace, Shanks?”

At the words Shanks made a sound almost like a whimper and Benn could watch how the man winced before he scratched his head, messing up his red hair even more. Benn didn’t let him answer, though. It wouldn’t feel right, after all it wasn’t Shanks’ fault.

“I was stupid.” Because he had been. He had caused Shanks immense worry and just now he couldn’t relate anymore why he had ever wanted to rip his necklace off, to end his life. Feeling what he could feel now, realizing just how … how much Shanks magic was, with the sudden realization that it was still growing. Holy… by Maali. There was no doubt in Benn’s mind that his necklace would come off one day. Maybe not now, maybe not even in the next few months but once Shanks came off age. Nothing would stop him. Nothing and no one and for sure not a laughable piece of metal. He had been stupid and that was even an understatement.

“Between the two of you, I doubt it had been you, who was stupid,” Doc muttered under his breath. The way he looked at them, Benn wondered how often Shanks pulled irresponsible stunts like, well, putting a slave’s necklace on himself. Not that Benn could say he was better in any regard.

“Hey,” Shanks protested but he was also chuckling, mirth shining in his eyes. “I never do stupid stuff.” Somehow he doubted that. The way Doc snorted, their doctor probably was on Benn’s page here. Instead of saying anything, he lifted his hand and if Shanks had read his mind, he reached for it, intertwining their fingers. Soft brown eyes looked at him, the mirth still dancing reflected by the dying light. It was getting late.

“I’m sorry, Shanks. I really am.” Benn’s voice was still rough but he found it had become steadier. Would he ever convey how stupid he had been and how much he regretted his actions?

“Well, I am not,” Shanks replied, almost flippantly. So, no. Shanks seemed to be of the opinion that shame wasn’t justified. He took a breath and as he exhaled he let it go. If Shanks wouldn’t allow shame, Benn would not hold onto it. Instead he turned his head towards Doc who seemed of the opinion he had been kept in the dark for too long.

“Would someone please explain what had happened?” he asked and there was clear irritation in his voice.

It made Benn sigh. “I tried to pull my necklace off,” he said and ignored the shocked “What?” Doc couldn’t stop from gasping out loud. “I was … stupid and hurt. Shanks stopped me and to show me I’m the biggest moron in the common land he put his own necklace back on.” To emphasize his words, Benn turned both his and Shanks’ hand, letting the fading light catch the gold of the rings they now both wore. It was unmistakable what they were.

Doc took in a sharp breath, opening his mouth but then seemed to think better of it. Instead he rubbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Shanks,” he said but didn’t give anyone time to interject. “I stand corrected. You are both idiots and definitely belong together. Just, for stupid ol’ me, please explain, why did Benn lose consciousness?” Benn couldn’t stop himself, he chuckled. To see Doc so out of his depth was unusual. He was also grateful that Doc hadn’t asked why he had even wanted to pull his necklace off, how stupid it now seemed. He wasn’t sure he wanted anyone other than Shanks to know that particular part of the story.

“Can I sit?” Benn asked and Doc looked at him sharply.

“Absolutely not.”

Now it was Shanks who chuckled. With his free hand he had started to pet Benn’s hair and it seemed Benn had to accept the fact he wouldn’t be back into an upright position anytime soon. At least not until Doc was satisfied he had all the information he needed to discern if Benn was healthy enough to sit or stand up. Benn couldn’t even blame him. Also, Shanks lap was quite comfortable and there was a distant headache he didn’t really trust too much. Keep laying down it was.

“Remember I told you I thought I came off age so late because it always felt like my magic is restricted?” He saw Doc nod. “It’s not anymore. Once the ring was on my finger it felt like something was lifted. Whatever had blocked my magic, it’s gone. It’s… it felt like coming off age all over again. Magic crashed into me, it was so much… ”

“You were overwhelmed,” Shanks interjected softly. “I was, too, for a moment. But I know that feeling so well, I could navigate the currents. Not to mention it wasn’t me experiencing it. It was you.”

“You felt each other’s magic?” Doc wondered out loud. It was visible he tried to understand everything he was told, but it was quite much. Well, it was quite much for Benn too. Shanks however just grinned. It was so out of place. This man.

“Still do,” Shanks said. “You feel it, too, right Benn?” Benn could only nod. Which was odd, lying down. The presence of Shanks’ magic was like a constant in the back of his mind. Like a song in the distance, pleasant, present. Untamed. “I didn’t anticipate that to happen when I connected our necklaces, to be honest. I actually don’t really know what I thought would happen.” Shanks sounded sheepish. A soft red shimmer appeared on his cheeks, which was in clear view with the way Benn’s head was still in Shanks’ lap. It made him smile.

“You dabbled in black magic without thinking about the consequences?” Doc asked incredulously, however. The smile on Benn’s face fell. What?

“I didn’t dabble in black magic. I never used black magic in my life,” Shanks answered, with an edge in his voice. He was clearly upset by the words but Benn could only gulp. Doc may have a point.

“You copied a necklace that was created with black magic…” he said and Shanks looked at him, eyes becoming wider. The hand that held his gripped a little tighter, as realisation dawned on him.

“Oh, well… fuck!” Shanks murmured and then seemed to realize he was gripping Benn’s hand because he relaxed his hold, but he didn’t let go. Benn really didn’t mind.

“Do we have to fear the government coming to our doorsteps?” Doc asked. He tried to keep his voice steady, maybe even push it towards joking but the note of fear was still audible even if he tried to hide it. For a moment Benn wondered if the fear was rooted in anything deeper than… whatever had just happened between him and Shanks. One day he would ask, but not today. Shanks only snorted.

“No. There are wards on this room, the palace, Manoas and my territory. If they sensed my spell through all of them and decide to challenge a Yonko over it, they are dumber than even I think they are. No one will come.”

Doc sighed in relief. It was quiet but it was there. Yes, one day Benn would ask, simply to understand and be able to protect. But not now. Silence fell, for just a moment. A soft reprise until Doc seemed to gather his bearings. Then he straightened his back and said “Let me summarize this quickly here.” His eyes locked onto Shanks. “So you copied Benn’s necklace, put it on yourself to stop Benn from ripping his own off. Why I don’t even want to know.” His gaze fell on Benn, shaking his head in sympathy and looking back at Shanks. “While doing so you connected the two necklaces, yes?” Shanks nodded. “Which is why you can feel each other’s magic?” Shanks nodded again. “And which is also why Benn’s magic is now not restricted anymore. Did I get that right?”

“Yes,” Shanks said. “Not completely,” Benn answered at the same time. Doc’s head almost flew from left to right, trying to look both of them in the eye at the same time. He muttered under his breath, probably cursing. Shanks however raised his eyebrow at him, but Benn only shrugged. Or tried to shrug while he still lay on the floor.

“When you cast the spell, all I could think about was how the necklace would hurt you… and I couldn’t let that happen. So I cut it out.”

“You changed my spell?” Shanks asked, and somehow he didn’t sound angry. Or surprised. Intrigued maybe, but not angry. Definitely not angry.

“I just wanted to protect you. I think it worked. I think it’s why… I’m not sure. I don’t think this has ever happened before, that two people wear both each other’s necklaces and owner’s rings. But, without the restriction, without the ability to hurt you, all the necklace can do is channel your magic to me, which my necklace does to you, as well. It created a loop.”

“And a loop doesn’t constrain,” Shanks picked up his train of thought.

“Yes.”

There was surely more to it and other people would probably study their strange connection. Benn however was content with knowing that the magic inside the necklace neither hurt Shanks nor constricted his magic. The rest he rather not test.

“Whatever it is, let me give you a last check, before you stand up, to make sure you’re not falling all over on me, again,” Doc said. As he murmured his spell, Benn felt the familiar feeling of the air shifting. But it wasn’t all. Just as before, when he had forced himself to see the magic out of desperation, the colors now were clearly visible. They shimmered in various hues until they sunk into him. Only this time Benn didn’t force himself or his magic. He didn’t even try. The colors were just … there.

“Shanks,” he said and his voice sounded a little constricted. “Why do I suddenly see magic?”

Shanks was glad Benn was alright. Doc would panic a lot more instead of asking questions, were Benn not well. The man probably would be tired tomorrow, maybe have a headache but that was a minor inconvenience compared to what could have happened. Shanks really hadn’t given consequences any thought when he had bound his necklace to Benn’s. Now that he thought of it, he wondered why he hadn’t reacted to him changing his spell? Maybe because Benn’s intentions had never been bad? Shanks would have felt that but Benn had acted out of grace not ill will.

His fingers had absentmindedly started to pet Benn’s hair. It was unfairly soft under his hands, but when Doc announced Benn would be allowed to sit back up after a last check, he stopped. Colors, similar to the ones earlier appeared and instead of giving them any mind, Shanks silently wished the lights on. They flickered and for a second he had to squeeze his eyes against the brightness. Only then did he register Benn’s question.

He blinked, adjusting to the difference in intensity of light in the room and now gave the last swathes of magical colors a glance. They were remnants before they ceased to exist. “Are you still seeing them now?” Shanks asked. Instead of answering, Benn took Doc’s offered hand and let himself be pulled into a sitting position. For a short moment Shanks was sad that he didn’t have Benn’s head in his lap anymore. But the knowledge that it meant Benn was alright quickly won over.

“Ow,” Benn muttered, rubbing his temple. Then he turned towards Shanks. “No, the colors are gone. But they were so clear. And I didn’t do anything this time to see them.”

“Well,” Shanks answered, shrugging. “You did feel magic quite well before. My best guess is that you were always supposed to see them, but it was one of the things the necklace blocked.”

“I guess…,” Benn said quietly and shook his head. Which he stopped with a wince. “Ouch, bad idea.”

“Headache?” Doc asked and Benn nodded. He nodded very carefully, Shanks noted. Poor man. “I’ll get you painkillers before you go to bed. Won’t help anyone tomorrow if you can’t sleep.”

“Yeah, can’t have that,” Benn murmured and looked around until he found his shirt. He stretched a little but was able to reach it in his sitting position. With ease he put it back on. Doc only raised an eyebrow and somehow Shanks had the feeling their doctor knew better than he would admit what had transpired between him and Benn. Not in detail, probably, but Shanks figured he had a vague idea. Oh well, he always prided himself in having very smart friends. “Not with the meeting tomorrow.”

The meeting? “Oh,” Shanks said more to himself than anyone. Over all that had happened he had completely forgotten about the meeting with the Murray brothers. “We can postpone the meeting, if you’re not feeling well enough.”

But Benn only shook his head. “No, no I will be fine and I don’t want them to be able to rip off any more people than they already have.” Goddess but Benn was just too good a man. It was simply impossible to not lose his heart to him. It made Shanks sigh.

“Fine, but if I feel you’re not okay, I will put a stop to it. What good is being a Yonko if not being allowed to act on a whim sometimes?”

That made both Benn and Doc laugh, only for Benn to follow it up with another wince. He held his head and whimpered. “I’d really appreciate those painkillers.” Dear goddess, and Doc had accused Shanks of being an idiot.

Chapter Text

He was glad that his headache was gone. The pain killers Doc had given him had been quite effective and Benn had been able to find sleep, at least sometime in the night. He wasn’t sure how many hours he had slept. Probably not enough, but at least a few. One problem solved, however…

“Benn? Benn, are you listening to me?” Doc asked and pulled Benn back into reality. He blinked and looked away from the sun dial that hung on one of the many pillars of the dining hall. It was directly in his sight and he had seen it many times before.

“Did you know that the magic that keeps the sun dial running even when it’s dark is green? Wouldn’t yellow or at least, I don’t know, iridescent make more sense?” he asked and then shook his head. “Sorry, what have you been asking?”

Doc just looked at him exasperated and then seemed to decide to not bother to ask his question again. Instead he tapped against Benn’s forehead. “This being able to see magic thing is throwing you for a loop, isn’t it?”

The words made him sigh. He couldn’t concentrate because the colors were literally everywhere. Had he not noticed as much yesterday evening, Benn had the feeling that overnight his senses had attuned and now he couldn’t stop himself from seeing all the magical swathes that surrounded them. There were miniscule things like the magic that kept the sun dial running even inside or the lamps overhead that only had a faint color surrounding them because the magic wasn’t active right now, but the seal was still there. But it was also all the magic the people used just at this moment, at breakfast. A coffee that had gone cold? A few words heated the beverage up again. A kid that had spilled her water? You could go fetch a rug, but you could also just mumble a few words. In a pinch a mother would do the second option to save time. Benn had never thought about how much magic was used in everyone’s daily life but now it was distractingly obvious.

“I would lie if I said no,” he admitted. “How does Shanks do it?”

The volume inside the hall suddenly turned up quite a bit. Had the people talked in their usual manner with each other at breakfast, suddenly it felt as if everyone was whisper-shouting, a silent gasp as if everyone had drawn in an audible breath at the same time. Benn closed his eyes and rubbed them. Somehow he had the feeling his headache was coming back to him.

“I can ask him himself, am I right?” he said before Doc could even form an adequate answer. Benn was not in line of sight to the door but he knew who had stepped in. He knew who had stepped in and had not decided to cover his necklace, as he himself did. Because Shanks was … he wracked his brain for a suitable description but none came. Shanks was simply himself, unabashedly so.

In front of him Doc nodded, eyes wide as everyone else’s in the room was. “What is he thinking?” Doc murmured and Benn could only shrug his shoulders.

“Probably nothing?”

It seemed there was no good reply because Doc didn’t say anything. Instead his eyes followed who could only be Shanks. Benn scooted over when Shanks was close enough and the other sat next to him. The necklace sat prominently on his skin, he had even chosen a shirt with a low neckline. He hadn’t lied when he had said he would prove to Benn that the necklace didn’t define him.

“You’d think I have grown another head, with how everyone is staring,” Shanks mused, almost grinning.

“Yeah, why should you be concerned when your Yonko suddenly wears a slave’s necklace,” Doc countered, “Such a foolish notion.”

“Exactly,” Shanks agreed, deciding to ignore the sarcastic undertone in Doc’s voice. Then his expression turned serious. “They will get used to it.”

“What if word gets out?” Doc asked, but Shanks just showed his teeth in a mock smile.

“Then let them come. Whoever thinks to underestimate my strength because of the necklace will find out quicker than they like how wrong they are.”

With the way he still felt Shanks’ magic in the back of his mind, like a roaring river, Benn didn’t doubt the truth in the words. For the first time since that fateful day in the Auction House Benn wondered how it would feel to walk around without the scarf he wore everyday. Shanks had proven time and time again that he wouldn’t let any harm come to Benn and he obviously didn’t give a fuck about that his enemies could find him weak. So Benn shouldn’t, too. The thought vanished however, when he saw Yasopp walk over to them, his expression thunderous.

“I would worry more about your friends,” Benn mused and was surprised by himself that he could joke about it. But Yasopp looked too funny, with his head beet red and visibly furious.

“Three hours before the meeting,” Yasopp snapped, when he was within hearing distance. Next to him Shanks tried to become invisible by slipping down the bench. “you decide to pull one of your insane stunts. Why, oh, why, your highness”

Oh. Benn couldn’t hide his grin. Yasopp really was mad.

“are you wearing a fucking necklace? Care to tell me so, you know, I can fucking explain it to the rest of the palace?”

Before Shanks could answer, Benn spoke up. “As it’s basically my fault -”

“I doubt that,” Yasopp interrupted him sharply. Someone somewhere chuckled. It had become suspiciously quiet in the dining hall. Of course everyone was listening. Of course every last citizen of Manoas would know before the day was over.

“Same mistake I made,” Doc muttered under his breath, reaching for his coffee to casually take a sip.

Benn decided to not rub the bridge of his nose in exasperation even if he wanted to. But deep down he couldn’t stop himself from finding this extremely hilarious. When had his life taken a turn so that convincing his friends he had done something stupid was the hardest part of his day? “As I said,” he repeated himself with more emphasis. “It’s my fault so I will help clear it up for everyone. After the meeting! Okay?”

It seemed only now did Yasopp realize that everyone was listening in. He looked around and then harumphed, “Fine!” before he snapped the nearest coffee, which was Benn’s, to take a sip. Only to make a face as if someone had insulted his wife. “Who the fuck drinks his coffee black? That’s disgusting.”

Several people laughed and slowly the noise level returned to what Benn was used to at breakfast. 

They had taken Yasopp and Roo aside to explain to them what had happened. Yasopp had whacked him over the head when they had come to the part where Benn had tried to rip his necklace off, only for Roo to pull him into a crushing hug. If Benn had become a little teary eyed no one had said anything. It felt more and more idiotic that Benn had ever believed pulling the necklace off and therefore ending his life was his only option. Let it be said he wasn’t free of failure. Far from it.

“You know,” Yasopp said as they had ended their tale, “when Shanks bought you I’d only think he was mad. Now I know you both are.”

It made Benn chuckle. “I just hide it better,” he grinned and then looked at the sun dial on the wall. Of course they were in Shanks’ study again. It was the best place to speak freely after all. Green. Why green?

“We have a little more than an hour left until the meeting,” he murmured and it made Roo almost jump up.

“Fuck. I need to prepare the room.”

“I thought we would be in here,” Benn said with a question in his voice as he watched Roo rush out of the study. But Shanks shook his head.

“Nah, this one’s for friends only. We have an official meeting room for such occasions as today.” Then he grinned almost dangerously. “Different wards.”

Oh. Oh fuck. Other colors Benn wasn’t used to. He sighed and closed his eyes just to blend out the swathes that were around him. He had been able to focus on the discussion but it was hard. It constantly flickered at the edges of his sight, even if he didn’t look directly at a seal.

“Are you okay?” Yasopp asked and Benn sighed.

“The colors keep distracting me. It’s… a little much,” he admitted and opened his eyes again when he heard Shanks let out a quiet “Oh”. The redhead scratched his head and tousled his hair. Benn couldn’t stop from finding it adorable. It seemed to be an unconscious habit of the man.

“You don’t know how to tune them out. I didn’t realize, because I've been doing it since forever.” Benn looked at him almost hopeful.

“You can tune them out? How?”

“Well,” Shanks said and bit his lower lip. “I don’t know if I can explain it. I just always did it, I guess. But…” He stopped and Benn could see how Shanks thought of a good way to describe it. After a moment he seemed he had settled on a way. “You described magic like water we tap into. The colors are like light reflecting the ripples and however we tap into it, the ripples are different, so the colors are different. At the moment you are standing in the water, Benn. It’s surrounding you. Try to step aside. Or better… you can choose how the water flows. If it’s important to see the colors let the flow get wider, go nearer, look at it. If you want it in the background, step aside, like you’re just sitting at the edge of the river bed and make the river small. Less water means less reflections.”

As he was listening to Shanks, it both sounded absolutely clear and both impossible to Benn. Somehow he knew what the other meant but how to execute it, he wasn’t sure. He closed his eyes and felt towards his magic. It was flowing inside him - still a new feeling from before, when it had always been still like a lake. It wasn’t anymore. It was a river. A big river. Wide and steady. But it was his and it was his partner, so he gave it a little push and another, and another until the river became smaller, the ripples less and he could see the river’s bounds. It didn’t even feel scary to step on dry land. The water - his magic - was still in reach, just right beside him and he could jump into it any time he liked. But just now he didn’t need to. He just needed to see it, well see less of it. When he opened his eyes he first looked at the sun dial. There was still a green hue to the seal, but it was less prominent, only a flicker. He knew it was there, but it wasn’t distracting.

“Thank you,” he said heartfeltly when he realized it had worked. Shanks only grinned at him.

“Glad I could help.”

“I still don’t understand why the sun dial’s seal is green, but at least it isn’t boring into my eyes anymore.”

Shanks followed his line of sight and shrugged. “I always thought it’s because they are made out of wood.” Benn could only blink at him. What an interesting line of thought. Then Shanks stood. “Let’s go deal with some thugs.”

If Shanks’ study lacked any personal belongings, the meeting room did even more so. It was almost cold and Benn had the slight feeling it was so that you never felt really comfortable in it. It was bare of any paintings or plants, there was only a big group of tables which were pushed together to form a big one which was surrounded by chairs. Roo had placed some pitchers of water and glasses onto it and a bowl of cookies. When they sat down, Benn noticed that they were strategically placed so whoever sat across from them needed to either ask for water or stand up. It made him smirk.

They had just sat down when there was a knock on the door. Benn’s eyes flew to the sun dial - this one was made out of stone and the hue of the seal was a dark grey. Interesting. Maybe Shanks’ theory was right.

“Yes?” Shanks called and the door opened. It took Benn a moment to recognize Gab and Bonk under the uniform they wore. They both worked in the gym, as trainers but also to keep the area intact. He knew that Shanks had several men to function as guards but they usually didn’t bother to wear uniforms. They also each had other jobs around the palace. With Shanks’ wards no one needed to stand on duty for hours on end. Shanks rather sent out his men or women where they were needed. Benn knew several people had acted on Shanks’ behalf when there had been the tumults at the festivities of Fireblossom Day. Didn’t that feel like a lifetime ago, even though it wasn’t. Now however instead of just the metallic pin that was meant to identify someone as a palace’s guard Gab and Bonk wore black trousers and shirts, red sashes and three braided red cords that were slung over their upper bodies. The pin held them in place. It took Benn a moment to realize the cords symbolized Shanks’ scars.

“The Murray brothers arrived. Should we send them in? They are still down in the entrance hall.” Gab asked and just as Benn had a moment ago, Shanks looked towards the sun dial.

“They are early,” Shanks murmured. Which they were. In fact they were fifteen minutes too early for it to even be considered polite.

“Bring them up,” Benn spoke up and looked at Shanks for confirmation. The other raised an eyebrow but let him speak. “But take the scenic route.”

Shanks grinned and Yasopp laughed a little. Roo just leaned back in his chair, arms crossed but with a smile on his lips. “The gardens are just lovely this time of the year. Wouldn’t let our esteemed guests miss it,” Bonk confirmed with a glint in his eyes. They both left again, closing the door behind them.

“Didn’t know you’d have such a mean streak in you,” Yasopp said towards Benn. He just reached for a glass and filled it with water.

“Only for people who deserve it.”

Fifteen minutes later on the dot there was another knock at the door.

“Your highness.”

Shanks didn’t know what he had expected of the Murray brothers. They were supposed to be farmers but he knew the clothes they wore were more expensive than any farmer could afford… or should be able to. He didn’t mind people getting luxurious items. He minded though, when they did it at the costs of others.

They weren’t tall, maybe a little shorter than Roo, and Shanks could see some muscles under the fabric of their clothes. At least it seemed they still worked in the fields. They had both brown short hair and brown eyes but that was where their similarities ended. One, who was a little taller than the other, had a nose that was slightly bent, as if it had been broken once. The other was almost stocky.

“We feel honored that you have invited us into your home,” the stockier one said. “I’m Marcy Murray and this” He nodded at his brother. “is my brother Declan. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

They had bowed shallowly, which could be an insult but Shanks usually did let it slide. He didn’t stand on formality and most of his citizens didn’t know what a proper bow was. What he didn’t let slide however and which he noted wouldn’t come, even as he waited and the silence was palatable, was that they had only addressed him in their greeting. No words of welcome to Roo, Yasopp or Benn. Not even a single look. Instead he had seen how they had eyed his necklace. He filed that away for later.

“Sit,” he said and pointed towards the empty chairs. As they sat, Shanks nodded towards Gab and Bonk who stood in the doorway, waiting. They shot him an eyeroll and a grin, before they left, closing the door behind them. Out of the corner of his eye he saw some colors flicker in the air. His wards came to life the moment the door had fallen shut. “I’d like to introduce my head of the kitchen Roo, my finance minister Yasopp and the man who will lead this meeting, Benn.”

For the first time the brothers made an effort to look at the other people in the room. They inclined their heads at each of them but Shanks noted how they gave Benn nothing but a mere glance. It was clear that they dismissed him because Shanks hadn’t announced Benn with a fancy title. Big mistake.

“As you may have noticed,” Benn started to say, “we have stopped purchasing from your farms a few weeks ago. I would like to hear if you have a guess at why that is?”

The good thing about letting Benn lead the meeting was that Shanks had time to watch how the Murrays acted. He didn’t miss how they shot each other a worried glance.

“Sir, we’re afraid to not know the palace’s motivations, but we’re sad to notice the declining orders of our goods,” Marcy Murray said, sounding sincere and almost sad. It was a good act, Shanks had to admit to that. “We’re priding ourselves in producing the best quality crops and would love to have the palace as a regular buyer again.”

“Roo,” Benn asked and Roo leaned forward to indicate he was listening. “Have you had any issues with the quality of the goods from the Murray farms?”

“Not really,” Roo said, not giving anything away. He sounded almost bored. Benn nodded at him and then kept asking.

“Would you say the quality is the best in all Manoas?”

“Not really, no,” Roo repeated almost identically to before and Shanks could see how both brothers bristled at the words. He had to suppress a grin. He knew Roo sounded snootish which probably let the Murray brothers fall into a false security.

“Sirs, with all due respect,” Declan Murray said before Benn could continue. Shanks doubted there was much respect in what he wanted to say. “We lived on a farm all our lives and our father taught us everything a good farmer needs to know. I’m sure a cook can assess a lot about the quality of food, but not all of it.”

The words were met with silence. That Roo didn’t say anything about the blatant disrespect surprised even Shanks. He knew that his friend was one of the most composed persons he knew but he also knew that Roo took pride in his cooking skills. Not to mention he was in charge of serving over a hundred people every single day. If anyone knew about food, it was Roo. That he was more than just a cook went without saying. But he just leaned back in his seat, his arms crossed as if daring them to say another word. They thankfully didn’t.

“So you believe your crops to be the best quality in all of Manoas?” Benn picked up the conversation again after a moment, when he realized no one was about to say anymore. There was a little edge in his voice but Shanks didn’t think the brothers noticed. He however did. Benn was angry on behalf of Roo, but he hid it well.

“We are very certain of it.” It was Marcy Murray again who spoke. Shanks got the impression he was the older one, probably also in charge not only in this room but outside. There was a certain aura of arrogance in the way he presented himself.

Benn probably had the same feeling, because when he spoke next it was very blunt. “Certain enough that it warrants a 250 percent price increase?” he asked and even raised his eyebrow. Shanks noted that Declan, the taller brother, made himself a little smaller as if he was embarrassed. Interesting. It wasn’t him who answered, though.

“Sir.” Declan Murray said and the assurance in his voice bordered on presumptuousness. “After our late father died, Maali bless his soul, we split the farm between us. You see, in the period of our grief many of the crops on the fields died, the seeds went rotten and we had to purchase everything anew. We decided to put our focus on quality rather than quantity. It takes quite a lot to run a farm as big as ours - not that we would expect any of you to know the inner workings of a farm. We are sure his highness doesn’t need to bother with such trivial things. We needed to increase prices to keep the farms running, to feed our farm-hands, our poor mother who fell ill after the loss of her husband and our sister who at the time was with child. You see, the baby, the stress, it wasn’t good for her. She gladly left us in charge.”

They did play the act of the victim well, Shanks had to admit. Had Marcy Murray sounded quite full of himself at the beginning of his little speech, in the end his voice had become somber. Wouldn’t Shanks know the prices Benn had presented him, he probably would have fallen for it. He had no idea how much crops should cost or how many farm-hands a farm needed. Combine that with an ill mother and a pregnant sister… Someone decent would say a price increase was necessary under such circumstances. A decent person would also lower the prices again after the crisis had been averted, which the Murray brothers had not done.

“I hope your sister and mother are well, after you so selflessly took over?” Benn asked and for a moment Shanks wondered where he was going with the question. He had assumed Benn would lead towards the too high prices again. Looking at the Murray brothers, Shanks saw them relax at the question, though. Their shoulders sagged a little and they leaned back against their chairs. They probably thought all they were here for was to get a well-fare check about their family. Clever, very clever.

“They are,” Marcy Murray declared and Declan nodded. “Our mother got better after some months and we have the cutest nephew who likes to play in the garden, just like his uncles and father do.”

“His father?” Benn asked and by now Shanks was sure that every question Benn asked had a deeper meaning. It was in the way his eyes looked calculated. The Murray brothers didn’t seem to think any of it, though, because Declan Murray spoke freely. He did sound more sincere than his brother. Less… haughty.

“Our sister married a farmer herself. The farm isn’t as big as ours, but we gladly help out where we can, even if he doesn’t sell -” Declan said and then suddenly stopped, as if someone had interrupted him. Which his brother probably had, because Shanks could see the colors that indicated a connection call. Which, if Shanks had seen it, Benn would have, too. After a moment the colors vanished and Marcy took the word again.

“We would have liked for our brother in law to sell his farm to us, you see, with him having a small boy at home and struggling to sell his crops. It’s a pity he won’t, but rather keep on cultivating it all by himself. Alas we can’t force him, so we pitch in with money or lending help. That’s what family does, isn’t it?”

“That is very generous of you,” Benn said and nodded. “What is it your brother in law is growing on his farm, if you don’t mind me asking?” He sounded almost conversational at this point. Shanks was very impressed.

“Mostly wheat, some poultry, too. Some vegetables,” Marcy said. It sounded off-handedly. He had not needed to think about that at least. Shanks really wondered where Benn was going with the questions, but he would happily stay silent and find out.

“When you inherited the farm,” Benn asked and again, it felt like a friendly conversation. Maybe not between friends, but between colleagues, or such. “Wouldn’t your sister inherit some land, too?”

Declan Murray nodded but it was again Marcy who answered. It seemed he had decided to end the conversation himself. Had Declan said something they should not have known? “She was entitled to some land, but after some - family talk” Oh. That didn’t sound like it had been a friendly family talk, Shanks noted. “she agreed that we’d buy her out. Which was better for her health, you see. With the pregnancy at high risk and the stress.”

Somehow Shanks got the feeling that the argument of their sister’s pregnancy had been used more times than the sister had liked. He remembered when Banchina had been pregnant with Usopp. She had worried so much about doing something wrong. Doc however had connected her with a wonderful midwife who had reassured her that simply living her life did not immediately harm her baby. He was aware, though, that not everyone had that luxury of a great midwife at their bid and call.

“So,” Benn kept the conversation going, “what you’re saying is that next to needing new crops and paying your farm-hands you also need to pay out your sister. That must be quite the financial strain.”

“If you’re implying that we increased the prices so as to afford the land off of our sister, we will let you know that that money is purely coming from the small margin we make.” Again Marcy Murray sounded haughty. Shanks would have understood anger. Maybe even sadness over a false accusation. The man sitting at the other end of the table however was none of those things. He wanted to show everyone in the room that he was better than the rest.

“I haven’t implied anything,” Benn said almost placatingly but he did smile. Oh he had gotten an answer he had been looking for, Shanks realized. Whatever it was, Benn had found it. “But as we cross the subject of margin… I would like to check your accounting books. Just to understand why the price increase was necessary, you see.” It suddenly dawned on Shanks what Benn had done. The moment Marcy Murray had claimed to only pay out his sister by their own profit, he had given Benn power over their books. Now if he refused it would look like he was lying, and if Benn found the story didn’t match the numbers, well it proved they were lying, too. So it surprised Shanks, when the man readily reached behind himself and fished out a book from a bag.

“But of course. We actually have the book with us,” Marcy Murray said. And wasn’t that a coincidence that they had the book at the ready? Not to mention Declan Murray looked like he’d rather vanish than be here. He had never seen a man look so uncomfortable in his skin so suddenly. That didn’t seem right.

Shanks watched Benn stand up and walk over to them. He took the book and as he slowly walked back to his place he leafed through it. His eyes scanned the numbers, seemingly stopping at pages randomly. Then when he sat, he closed the book and held it towards Yasopp. “I think as the finance minister you are better equipped to check this, I’m sure. Good ol’ me never was good with numbers” Benn smiled at Yasopp who to Shanks’ trained eye looked quite confused, but did take the book nonetheless. He put it in front of himself on the table and opened it, even scanned a few pages, but Shanks just knew he had no idea what to look for. At least not in this short amount of time. It didn’t mean Yasopp didn’t know how to play the game. So he made it seem like he was very invested.

Shanks was distracted when someone knocked at his mind. It was Benn. The sound of his voice was crystal clear in his mind. When Shanks glanced over at him, the man simply reached for the water. ‘It’s fake. The whole book is fake.’

‘You figured that out after looking at it for two minutes?’ He was impressed. Both with how fast Benn had realized the numbers were apparently bullshit and with how he bought himself time to tell Shanks, without making it obvious he was momentarily distracted.

‘Yes. None of the numbers match mine.’ By Maali, Benn really hadn’t lied when he had said he had learned the numbers by heart. Then Benn placed the pitcher of water back in its place and as if nothing had happened continued the conversation. It was the moment Shanks simply knew he would make the man his first minister, his second in command, his partner. He just needed to find a moment to tell Benn as much. Later…

“It must have been hard when your father died… six months ago?” Benn kept on going.

“It was rather nine months ago, but yes. We all loved him very dearly,” Marcy replied and the sadness was back in his voice. Shanks wondered if this at least was true. That they had loved their father. He hoped so.

“But you still managed to buy new seeds and put them in the ground?” Benn asked, his expression not giving anything away. If Shanks had to make an educated guess, he’d say Benn looked honestly invested. “It must have been hard.”

It was funny how both Murray brothers took Benn’s words for a compliment. Declan smiled and Marcy almost beamed with pride. He tried to tamper it but Shanks could see it, still. “We knew that keeping the farm running was all our father would have wanted. So we tried our best,” Marcy Murray said and there was pride in his voice. Shanks’ impression of him was more and more that he wanted to be seen as someone important. It would explain the greed for money. To make himself look more impressive with luxurious clothes and finery.

“Well you seem to have procured some decent crops, after all you pride yourself in quality,” Benn kept on building on the feeling of pride. To watch him felt like watching a play. The Murray brothers were just props Benn put wherever he wanted them. It was fascinating.

“We have been blessed by Maali, as our crops did better than we expected,” Marcy Murray said with a big smile and again all Shanks could think was that the man was full of himself. Full of bullshit probably but very self-assured.

“What a blessing indeed,” Benn said and then, as if he had just now realized, reached for two glasses. “I’m very sorry, I haven’t even offered you something to drink.”

‘They are lying through their teeth and smiling about it.’ Shanks had kept the connection with Benn open and wasn’t surprised when Benn took the moment to give Shanks some more information. He hadn’t picked this exact moment to offer water for nothing.

‘How?’ Shanks asked while he watched Benn fill two glasses. The swathes of magic shimmered for a moment over Benn’s head before they vanished.

‘The timeline doesn’t match. They would have either needed the crops in the ground already when their father died to have a yield or purchase new seed later which would barely result in crops yet. At least for wheat, but that’s their main income source.’

‘What do you suggest?’ Shanks asked as he watched Roo take the glasses from Benn. Their friend was closest to the Murray brothers and dutifully passed the water over. The brothers nodded in thanks. Shanks was sure they didn’t even think anymore they were in trouble.

‘The sis-’

It was just at this moment that someone else knocked at his mind. Someone Shanks knew quite too well and had wanted to contact for weeks. Without thinking about it he stood up. Every eye was on him, but he didn’t care. He was a Yonko and he could demand a pause whenever he wanted.

“I’m sorry but we need to take a quick break. Please be all back in half an hour.” Without waiting for answers, he rounded the table and rushed out of the room. In front of the door Gab and Bonk still stood as Shanks had instructed them quite some time ago. They watched him with questions in their eyes but he only barely noticed. His study thankfully was only a few halls away. When the door fell shut behind him with a bang, he leaned against it, his voice loud in the otherwise empty room. No one would hear him here.

“Rayleigh?”

Chapter Text

If Benn hadn’t seen the different hue of color over Shanks’ head he would have been quite irritated at being interrupted. It had come rather abruptly that Shanks had asked for a break and rushed out of the room. With the knowledge he had, though, he was rather worried. He hoped everything was okay.

Looking around the room he realized everyone was quite befuddled. While the Murray brothers didn’t say anything, their looks got somber and if Benn had to guess, quite annoyed. Roo looked, equally to Benn’s own expression, rather concerned and Yasopp, who had looked after Shanks’ vanishing figure with furrowed brows, now turned back to the book in front of him.

For a moment there was an awkward silence and Benn realized someone - probably him - needed to say something. So he stood and put on a smile. “Being a Yonko sometimes means needing to deal with emergencies. If you want to stretch your legs or find the bathroom, now is the time. Gab and Bonk will point you in the right direction.”

Marcy Murray stood and looked at Benn, bowing his head a little. “Thank you. I think we will,” he said and then turned towards the door. “At least someone here is polite.” Which was but a mere murmur but it was quiet enough in the room to understand it. The man didn’t seem to care about anyone hearing him insult a Yonko and the way he looked, Benn wasn’t so sure if it hadn’t been done deliberately. Benn suppressed the rage that wanted to bubble up inside him and watched how Declan hurried after his brother. The door, which Shanks had let open, was closed by Gab, who gave them a look but didn’t say anything.

The silence passed on. It took Benn a moment to sort his thoughts and more to busy his hands rather than being hungry, he reached for a cookie. It was sweet on his tongue but he didn’t quite register its taste.

“What the fuck?” Roo asked when it felt like the silence became oppressing and it did encompass everything quite well. What the fuck, indeed.

“He’d got a call,” Benn said, because at least that much he could answer. It made Yasopp finally look up from the accounting book. His expression was quite thoughtful. “I was in the middle of explaining something, when another color appeared. Someone else must have contacted him.”

“You were in the middle of explaining -” Yasopp started.

“You saw another -” Roo just said at the same time. Both stopped, looked at each other and the absurdity of the situation made all of them laugh. It broke the tense air and Benn let himself fall back on his chair. It may not look like it, but keeping the meeting going while simultaneously keeping a firm grip on the conversation was quite exhausting.

 “You first,” Yasopp told Roo with a grin.

“It’s not that important. I just momentarily forgot that Benn can fucking see magic, too, now. Still need to get used to that revelation,” Roo said as he looked from Yasopp to Benn. “So he got a call. Explains the sudden leaving.”

“Yeah, I don’t know from who, though, but it must be someone important,” Benn answered and then turned towards Yasopp, who still played with the pages of the book, turning them back and forth. “What did you want to say?”

“I just…,” Yasopp seemed to sort his thought because in the end he turned the book around so it was facing Benn. “It’s fake, isn’t it? That was what you were explaining to Shanks, right?”

“Yeah, I was,” Benn nodded. “What clued you in?” He wondered if it was the same thing as him or something different. Yasopp however just gave the book a push, so Benn could reach it.

“Leaf through it,” Yasopp said and Benn did. Roo was looking into it from the side. Whenever there was an entry mentioning the palace Benn automatically compared it to the numbers he had memorized and almost all of them didn’t match. However Yasopp surprised him with his next words. “Don’t look at the numbers. Look at the ink. It’s the same everywhere. The handwriting gets worse the farther you get, as you do when you write a lot in one go. Which shouldn’t happen in an accounting book where you only write a few pages each time. I’d say someone has written all of this in one go, in a hurry, probably faking it.”

As Yasopp explained what he had seen Benn focused on the ink and handwriting rather than the numbers. He was right. Even Roo made a noise of understanding when he saw what Yasopp had seen.

“Fuckers,” Roo said next to him and then added. “And you were awfully nice to them.” It wasn’t meant as an accusation yet Benn understood the sentiment. He hadn’t liked being nice to them. He just knew it would get him the wanted results faster. His expression became a dangerous grin.

“Not anymore, now that I have all the information I need.”

“So you know what to do with the farm?” Roo asked. Benn nodded.

“I have an idea, but I need to talk with Shanks and preferably with the sister of the Murrays. Ask them if they agree.” His eyes gleamed a little. “But if they do, well, rip the brothers to shreds for all I care.”

As Shanks was still nowhere to be seen, Benn decided to take a quick walk himself. The air inside the room had become stuffy and he was glad of the change of scenery. He didn’t really look where he was going, just wandering the halls, only keeping track that he wouldn’t leave too far from the meeting room. He wanted to be able to be back on a quick notice, if needed to.

He just rounded a corner, when he saw Makino of all people walk towards him. The moment she saw his figure her expression changed to something akin to relief. He frowned. Not that he didn’t like to see the woman but what was she doing here?

“Benn, finally,” Makino said when she was close. She slung her arms around him and he returned the hug. The smaller woman had to get on her tiptoes to reach him and Benn steadied her, having the feeling something was off.

“Are you alright?” he asked her, when they let go. He eyed her, letting his eyes sweep over her body as if to see any injuries. But she looked healthy, just like she had yesterday evening before they had needed to leave because of Rika puking. Was she here because of that? “Is Luffy alright?” Doc had said it wasn’t contagious but what if it were and Luffy had caught it? Maybe she needed to find Doc.

“What?” Makino said, absentmindedly, “No, no, Luffy’s fine. Are you?”

“Me?” Now, Benn would say he was usually quick to pick up what was going on, but at the moment he had absolutely no clue. It wasn’t like Makino to be so rattled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because when I called Ririka to ask how Rika’s doing, she offhandedly told me Shanks is wearing a necklace and it’s because of you.” Makino sounded bewildered, which was understandable. Yet…

“Did she also tell you not to worry about it?” Benn asked, because he actually had left breakfast with the feeling that the people of the palace were fine to wait for an explanation. That Makino was so befuddled shocked him because it meant gossip was not only spreading fast, but spreading fast with worryingly false information.

“Well yes, but I know Shanks,” Makino claimed and the more she spoke the more she sounded concerned. “He would never… he would not - I know him. That’s his worst nightmare!”

Goddess. It suddenly dawned on Benn why Makino was so concerned. She was, after all, one of Shanks oldest friends. A childhood friend who - the way she spoke Benn didn’t doubt - knew about his past, too. He suddenly felt honored to have been made aware of Shanks’ childhood before Roger. Not to mention he was acutely aware of Shanks’ nightmares. His hands reached for Makino’s wrists and held them gently to stop her shaking.

“Makino,” he said softly. “Calm down. Let me explain.”

“What is there to explain? Ririka said you would explain after the meeting, anyway, but… Shanks isn’t really wearing a fucking slave’s necklace, is he?”

Benn blinked at Makino’s outburst and for a short moment didn’t know if he should laugh or cry. Makino wasn’t one to use swearwords. She was a sweet woman who rather scolded you for using them. It underlined however how serious she was. He looked around, wondering where they could go that was at least a little secluded so they had some privacy. Here in the middle of the hall it had been pure luck that no one had walked into their conversation. Maybe Shanks’ study… it was just around the corner.

“Come,” he said and took one of Makino’s hands to lead her. Just when they rounded the corner and the door to Shanks’ study came into view, it opened to reveal said redhead.

“Shanks,” Benn couldn’t stop himself from saying. He hadn’t even considered that Shanks might have gone to his study to take the mysterious call in private, even though now that he thought of it, it was rather obvious. The other man looked from him to Makino who stared at Shanks’ necklace with a shocked expression and a slight open mouth. For a moment all Shanks did was blink, then Benn heard him sigh and without saying something he pushed the door he had just closed open again. If that wasn't an invitation, Benn didn’t know what was.

“Come,” Benn murmured and led Makino inside the room, softly guiding her to sit down on one of the couches. Shanks closed the door behind them and out of the corner of his eye Benn could see the muffling seal activate the moment the door clicked into place. Violet hue.

Makino almost went placidly, her gaze never leaving Shanks’ necklace. If this went on Benn would honestly become concerned for her health. Only when Shanks sat across from her did she speak. “What happened?” Her voice was hushed.

“I helped a friend,” Shanks said and even casually shrugged. As if putting on the necklace for Benn’s sake was nothing but a minor inconvenience and not the biggest act of faith. Benn would do everything to never break that trust. He knew that, but Makino didn’t.

“You once told me you would rather die than ever put a necklace on again,” she hissed, anger bubbling out of her, and the words took Benn aback. What? He stared at Shanks. Thousands of thoughts rushed through his mind. He had said what? If that was true… if that was true it was even more insane that Shanks had put back on his necklace for Benn.

“I was ten,” Shanks countered and even crossed his arms.

“I didn’t think age would change your mind,” Makino bit back. What… what the fuck?

“Age has nothing to do with it.”

“Then what does?”

“It’s none of your concern,” Shanks answered defensively towards Makino’s outburst and suddenly Benn knew he had to stop this. Because Shanks obviously seemed unwilling to tell on Benn. Probably because Benn was still wearing a scarf to hide his own necklace, which no. No, that had to change. Benn knew it had to change.

“Shanks!” He interrupted them both and turned towards Makino who sat next to him, even if she had slid forward, almost off her seat, in anger and frustration. “Makino…”

“You don’t have to do that, Benn,” Shanks threw in when he saw how Benn reached for the fabric around his neck.

“I know.” Benn smiled at Shanks. He genuinely knew if he didn’t feel secure enough Shanks would never ask him to reveal his necklace. They would find an explanation for the people of the palace and Manoas and Shanks’ territory that would ease everyone’s mind and Benn wouldn’t have to ever take the scarf off. But Shanks didn’t let a necklace define Benn so Benn wouldn’t either. “But I want to. And it’s not like you’d let anything bad happen to me.”

That made Shanks huff. “Not on my watch, no.” Benn laughed a little, before he pulled the scarf off to reveal the metal underneath. Next to him Makino took an audible breath as her eyes became huge.

“Makino, Shanks put the necklace on to save my life,” Benn explained. He lifted his hand to let the owner’s ring shine in the light. Shanks mirrored his movement but a mere moment later, understanding Benn without any needed words. If possible Makino’s expression became even more shocked. “And we will tell the people of the palace as much, once we’re done dealing with the Murray brothers,” he added on a whim. Why lie to them? It was a bold statement to show the world that Redhair Shanks would rather limit himself than let even one subject of his suffer the consequences of slavery. And Shanks had said it himself, let whoever underestimated him because of the necklace learn how wrong they were.

“Actually” Shanks scratched his head and tousled his hair. “they may have to wait a little while longer for that explanation.” There was a sly grin on his face and for a moment Benn wanted to shake him and ask what by Maali was more important than to calm his people. Then Benn let it go. Shanks had proven he would do things his way and his way usually contained an explanation. Not that he thought he could change Shanks’ mind once he had settled on something, anyway.

“Has it something to do with the person who contacted you earlier?” Benn asked and Shanks’ grin became only brighter.

“Yeah. I hope you know how to ride, because we both are going to Sabaody. Rayleigh has a lead and he wants to see you.”

Benn blinked at Shanks and then frowned. “You mean he wants to see the necklace.” He doubted someone like Silvers Rayleigh, former first minister under High King Gold Roger, was interested in a nobody like Benn. The man didn’t know him after all.

It made Shanks laugh. “Well yes, that as well, but once he gets to know you, I know he will like you.”

Which suddenly reminded Benn of the fact that next to Roger Rayleigh was probably the closest Shanks had to a father. Oh goddess. How could he forget under whom Shanks had grown up? Which insanely powerful people he called his family. He whimpered. Hopefully Rayleigh was used to Shanks’ insane stunts or otherwise he would rip Benn’s head off for being responsible for Shanks wearing a necklace, again. But going by Makino’s reaction, probably not. Fuck.

They were late. Shanks had refused to leave Makino until she was convinced that they were both alright and Benn couldn’t do anything other than agree. It had been shocking to see the usual composed and calm woman so shaken. To hear that Shanks’ necklace would only come off when Benn’s necklace came off and that Shanks wasn’t sure when that was had thrown her for another loop. Benn hadn’t even thought she could get as white as she had been. All blood had drained from her face.

In the end Shanks had made Makino promise to not say anything until they were back from Sabaody, so they could do a public announcement and Benn himself had asked her to keep it quiet from Ririka and Kai, mainly because he felt it only fair that his two close friends heard the news from him and not from anyone else. The first request had been taken with quite a few choice words Benn didn’t want to repeat, the second Makino had taken with a lot more understanding. Shanks had also told her to seek out Doc if she needed something for her nerves. Which again had earned Shanks some choice words, this time though all Benn had been able to do was laugh. When they had left Makino to get back to the meeting, the woman had looked miles better than when Benn had spotted her in the palace’s halls. Now, Shanks and Benn were walking next to each other back to the meeting room, probably fifteen to twenty minutes later than they said they would.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Benn pointed out after a while of silence. Out of the corner of his eye he saw how Shanks chewed on his lip. It wasn’t a long way back to the meeting room but before they reached it, Shanks stopped Benn in his tracks and looked at him. His eyes glanced at the necklace Benn hadn’t covered back up.

“I will sound like a dick,” Shanks began and Benn raised an eyebrow. “but you should put the scarf back on.”

Benn would have loved to raise his eyebrow even higher but he knew he was physically unable to and because he knew Shanks had a reason. So he simply asked. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want the two Murray brothers to spread gossip about you wearing it. I’d rather tell people on our own terms… and if Ray has a lead and I can open your necklace, maybe no one needs to know anyway.” Shanks sounded a little unsure but Benn understood it was to keep Benn safe, not because he didn’t want Benn to show the necklace.

He smiled at the other man sadly and carefully lifted the necklace a little away from his skin. “No matter if we manage to open the necklace in Sabaody or not, I will wear a mark, Shanks.” He knew that the scars were visible because Shanks’ gaze became dark. “Which is fine by me as long as I can stand by your side to help keep it from happening to others. But I can understand that you rather want to tell peop-”

Before he could finish speaking Shanks had thrown his arms around Benn’s neck and pulled him into a hug. The necklace fell back into place as Benn instinctively returned it. “If it’s any mark then of how brave you are,” Shanks murmured into his ear before he let go.

Benn shook his head. “Idiot,” he murmured but he knew it sounded fond. This stupid, wondrous, wonderful man. As he slung the scarf back around his neck, Shanks turned back towards the hall that led to the meeting room. When his scarf was back in place, as best as Benn could drape it, without a mirror at least, they rounded the last corner before the door came back into view. With a nod Gab and Bonk stepped aside. Instead of getting in though, Shanks murmured a few words under his breath. Benn could see how a seal that had been barely visible now became brighter. He let his gaze scan the magic before he asked, grinning. “Are you spying on our guests?”

“I would never,” Shanks replied, grinning back, and then took Benn’s hand. Voices echoed in Benn’s mind, crystal clear as if there wasn’t a thick wall between them and the people inside the room.

“-waiting for over half an hour now. When will they be back? You order us here and then let us wait? That’s highly inappropriate.” Marcy Murray’s voice was harsh and very loud.

“They will be back whenever they see fit,” Yasopp answered and Benn could hear the annoyance dripping in his voice. He didn’t need to see Yasopp to imagine how he looked. Probably containing his fury.

“They seem not amused that they had to wait,” Benn couldn’t stop himself from saying and Shanks only looked at him before he snorted. There was mischief in his own eyes.

“Do you actually need more information out of them,” Shanks asked instead of responding to Benn’s quip. He shook his head.

“Not really. I wanted to let you know that I would talk with the sister and her husband, see if they want to take over the farms, before Rayleigh made you storm out. They are farmers, in the same field nonetheless and I am sure her brothers talked her out of her portion of the inheritance because of her pregnancy. We’d have to have a chat with her first, but essentially, that’s my idea. Well, my first idea. I have two… three others, but I’d say this one’s the best.”

“I like the idea, let's do that,” Shanks said and reached for Benn’s scarf, tugging it in place. Half his mind noticed how he didn’t even react to the proximity anymore. Some weeks ago Benn would have flinched had Shanks reached for him, now he couldn’t come to mind. Shanks would never hurt him, in fact would do everything in his might to protect him, even from himself. He had proven it by the necklace he wore, a mirror to Benn’s, golden with a ruby that screamed ‘I’m a slave’. Yet, Shanks wasn’t. To Benn he was freedom incarnated. He was hope. He was home.

The other half of his brain was fascinated at the change in Shanks’ demeanor. One moment it was Shanks who stood in front of him, his friend, the person he could laugh and joke with, the man he gladly held through his nightmares. The next moment that person made way for the Yonko he was, too, powerful and at the moment very mad.

“We have a farm to run,” Marcy Murray exclaimed angrily as Shanks pushed the door open. Benn followed him in, just a step behind. All heads turned towards the door.

“And I have a country to run,” Shanks said evenly, but the hint of danger was very audible. Yasopp smirked, Roo grinned. The Murray brothers stood up from their chairs in a hurry, the one behind Declan dangerously close to falling down.

“Your highness, we didn’t mean to…” Marcy almost stuttered but Shanks silenced him with the flick of his hand.

“Oh, you absolutely did mean to, but alas it’s not a punishable offense,” Shanks started and Benn could see how the brothers both sighed in relief. Stupid, really fucking stupid. “What is a punishable offense though is scamming my head chef and finance minister, ruining several of the small businesses of my subjects that live here in Manoas, increasing the prices of your goods about 250 percent and as of today, faking your accounting books.”

“Sir, we never did, we explained before,” Marcy Murray now really stuttered while Declan was white as a sheet and had sunken back onto his chair in defeat. Benn was impressed how much power Shanks’ voice held without ever raising its volume. If he were in the Murrays’ shoes he’d probably shake from fear by now, but honestly he wouldn’t be dumb enough to try to cheat a Yonko.

“What you explained was that you rather take your father’s death and use it as an excuse and shield instead of honoring his legacy. In my territory food is never to be used as a weapon to further personal greed and I will not allow it, especially not in my main city.” While Declan had started to shake like a leaf in the wind it seemed Marcy had gotten his wits back…

“You have no proof of any of what you are saying and who will believe a teenage Yonko who wears a fucking necklace anyway?”

… or not, Benn thought. Maybe the man had lost all that was left of his sanity. It seemed Declan agreed with Benn’s sentiment because he whimpered in his seat, rocking his body back and forth.

“By any means, keep on insulting me, I’m sure that will convince me to let you keep your farm,” Shanks said and his tone had become dangerously sweet. Goosebumps appeared on Benn’s arms. Shanks' grin became deadly. “But if numbers are what you want to see, I can cater to that. Benn, would you mind?”

Shanks had turned to him and it did something to Benn to have those sharp eyes look at him, see him and lift him up, admitting and admiring that all of this wouldn’t have come to this exact moment without Benn’s input. Without any effort of his own he matched Shanks’ sharp smile. “Not at all,” he said and even if he had never done it before, it was easy to tap into his magic and summon the papers with the numbers, even though they were way out of sight and he had nothing to exchange them with. A small part of his brain realized that he would never have been able to do this before the blockage of his magic had been removed. Was this the power Shanks had seen in him, way before Benn had even been able to grasp it? Swirls of magic appeared in front of his eyes, the air shifted and then he held sheets of paper in his hands. He simply slid them over to where the Murray brothers stood. Well one stood, the other had gone into shock.

“You will not only find the numbers of the palace’s accounting books, but of twelve other bakeries, restaurants and cafés that bought goods from your farms,” Benn explained calmly. His voice was sickenly sweet. “Over the last six months you increased the price of eggs by 251 percent, the price of wheat by 212 percent, the price of poultry by 209.5 percent, the price of corn by 201 percent and the price of rye by 199 percent. You will also find the numbers of four other smaller farmers, including their statements of you threatening them to either sell their goods to you or them finding themselves in trouble as you phrased it so nicely.”

Declan had become impossibly paler the more Benn spoke, but at his last sentence, the man pushed himself away from the table and looked at his brother quite incredulously. “You did what?” he gasped and oh… oh, wasn’t that a revelation. “Are you insane? You threatened… by Maali. My goodness…” He sunk into himself, as if all life had left him. “We’re going to be sent to the salt mines and we deserve to rot in them.”

The salt mines, Benn knew, were a place at the edge of the salt desert where criminals from all four territories were sent to, to work under the harshest conditions, harvesting salt under the blazing sun, with little to no water and even less food. Despite the name it wasn’t mines rather than fields over fields of salt, a remnant of what had once been said to be the sea. If there was anything even worse than slavery it was that place. Benn however also knew that Roo and in extension therefore Shanks refused to even buy salt from that place. He doubted Shanks would ever send anyone there, especially not for something as stupid as whatever this was.

“I care for my subjects,” Shanks said and his voice still had an edge but less so than just mere moments ago. “I will always protect them, keep them from any harm and I abhor and condemn fraud.” Then he sighed and Benn could clearly see how hard this was for Shanks. How exhausted the man was and how having to make a decision that would so severely impact another person’s life weighed on him. “Unfortunately you are my subjects, too and therefore are under my care. No one will be sent to the salt mines. But I will strike you off of your lands and I will find an adequate penalty for what you did. Until then you will be under supervision in the palace, confined into your rooms and not allowed to contact anyone outside of these walls without my or any of my guards’ leave, magical or not.”

Shanks’ words rung through the room, underlined by Marcy Murray’s fearstricken silence and only interrupted by Declan Murray’s relieved sobs.

Chapter Text

“Gab. Bonk,” Shanks called and Benn noticed how the words created a very distinct yellow hue, momentarily deactivating the muffling seal on the room. The violet hue of the seal seemed to absorb the magical color and turned white for just a single moment until the words faded into nothingness. The seal turned violet again. Benn wasn’t the most artistic minded person, but if he was correct wasn’t yellow the complimentary color to violet? He had to look that up. Shanks had said the colors of the magic made sense and the more Benn saw them the more he needed to agree. Interesting.

The door was opened and Bonk and Gab appeared. For a moment they took in the people inside the room. Shanks’ serious expression, the quietly sobbing Declan and Marcy Murray’s fearstricken face. Something changed in their demeanor and Benn realized who he had before him now were Shanks’ guards, ready to fulfill his every order.

“Take them to one of our empty en-suite rooms, make sure there is one guard at the door at all times and keep an eye on any magical use until I warded the room. I’ll be with you shortly.” Shanks’ voice was clear and forbade any argument. The two men just nodded and it spoke of Shanks’ authority that both Declan and Marcy Murray followed the two guards without any word. Before Declan left the room, though, he turned once more towards Shanks and Benn watched with surprise how he bowed and said, “Whatever your punishment will be, I realized it will be just and more farsighted than me and my brother deserve. Thank you, your highness.” His voice was still raw from the sobbing but ernest. Before anyone could respond he hurried behind his brother, out the door.

Silence encompassed the remaining people in the meeting room and Benn could see clearly how somber Shanks’ expression had become. This wasn’t easy for him. There had been so many moments that had told Benn that Shanks wanted to be a good ruler, someone for his subjects to look up to, to make choices that benefitted everyone and to lead so people’s lives turned out better than the day before. He wasn’t sure if Shanks realized that his decisions right now just added to it, at least in Benn’s opinion. It may be hard but in the long run doing what he was doing just now would benefit everyone under his care. Even Marcy and Declan Murray, no matter how contrary it felt right now.

“Roo,” Shanks said after a while and turned towards his friend. “I need you to find their sister. Benn and I will be riding to Sabaody tomorrow, starting the journey early in the morning. I reckon we will be gone for a few days. It should give you enough time to schedule a meeting with her. We see her once we’re back. I’ll let you know when I can guess how long we have to be away.” Roo simply nodded and Shanks faced Yasopp. “Yasopp, talk with the brothers and find out if there are real accounting books. I want to know how much exactly they scammed off of my people. If there aren’t any check their bank accounts, look what else you can find. I also need to know how much they paid their sister for her part of the farm. I have the feeling it wasn’t nearly enough. Prepare the numbers so once we’re back you can cross-check with Benn.” Just like Roo had, Yasopp nodded. “And send someone to let their farmhands know what happened and tell them to keep working like they usually would. Let them make sure they are alright.”

The silence was back after Shanks’ orders had been spoken. Then Roo cracked a small smile. “So Rayleigh contacted you?” he asked and the hope in his voice eased so much tension, Benn could physically feel it. The air became ten times lighter.

Shanks laughed quietly and rubbed his eyes, looking exhausted but much better than just mere moments ago. It was the way his eyes crinkled. “Yes.”

“Good news, I’d wager,” Yasopp picked up the thread of conversation. Somehow Benn’s heart felt warm at the small grin, barely visible but there.

“He said he has a lead,” Shanks answered. He felt different. No, not different, Benn realized. It was just that the side of Shanks that was a Yonko was slowly pushed aside. Two sides of the same coin, just one a little heavier than the other. Yet, still the same man. “I hope it’s a good one. However, it will delay the announcement for the palace.” Shanks slowly tapped the ruby of his necklace. He didn’t need to explain more than that. With a flicker of his eyes he looked at Benn, then back towards Yasopp and Roo. The Yonko was still there, he was always there. But at the moment he was more present than … simply Shanks.

“We’ll manage,” Roo said flatly and Yasopp even laughed.

“Yeah, they all enjoy gossiping anyway. You just give them a chance to do so for a few more days.”

Something in Shanks’ expression cracked and he snorted, quite unelegantly. It was good to see his goofy side, Benn found. “Not sure if that’s a good thing.”

“I’m pretty sure it is.” Shanks looked at Benn incredulously hearing his words and then simply erupted into snorting laughter.

“I hate you all,” Shanks managed to heave out and Benn was glad to find the Yonko had made way for the man he came to adore so much.

“Do you need a break?” Shanks asked over the sound of hooves on dry ground. The sun was crawling slowly higher on the horizon and soon it would be burning relentlessly on their skin. It would be good to cross a little more distance before then, but Shanks was aware that Benn wasn’t a skilled rider and other than the last time he had been on his way to Sabaody they weren’t in a rush. “There’s a small town coming up in twenty minutes or so.”

The mentioned town was rather a slightly bigger village, but it had some good cafés where they could get something to drink and maybe even a second breakfast. Their horses could rest at the fountain Shanks knew was in the village’s center and Benn could stretch his legs. He doubted anyone would bother them, aside from some friendly hellos and maybe a short chat here and there. No news about him wearing a necklace should have reached the small village and Shanks had strategically picked a cape that hid the metal. He would answer the questions of his territory’s people after they made the announcement, not before.

Instead of answering, Benn looked up into the sky and Shanks could see the frown forming on his face. Over the last three hours he had become a lot surer in the saddle. His back had lost the tension and he wasn’t flinching anymore whenever Date - not the time, the fruit which was his horse - made a move, like shaking her head. When Shanks had heard that the last time Benn had been on a horse was when he’d still be with the Rosenthorns he had made sure to tell his stable master to ready the most gentle one for Benn. Date, a brown mare, wasn’t the fastest steed Shanks owned, but she was a kind soul, knew instinctively when her rider was afraid and acted accordingly. She was a perfect match for someone like Benn, who had the bare minimum of riding experience.

“How long did you say we need?” Benn finally asked and patted Date at the neck, as she whickered quietly.

“Depends,” Shanks answered honestly. “The last time I went to Sabaody it took me five hours. But that was at a breakneck speed I wouldn’t recommend repeating.” He grinned ruefully. Poor Spitfire had been driven to her full capacity on that day. As if one cue she shook her head and made a noise that sounded almost like a snort. “Keeping this tempo up, I’d say eight to ten hours, depending on the breaks we need.”

Whatever Benn answered was so quietly mumbled that it got lost in the wind. But the way Benn’s eyes hardened gave Shanks a good guess. Without thinking about it, he pulled his chestnut in front of Benn’s horse and forced the man to stop in his tracks. Date didn’t seem faced, simply stomped her legs once before she stopped.

“Benn,” Shanks spoke up, letting the name linger until he had Benn’s eyes on him. They were beautiful, yet a little somber. “I’ve had riding lessons since I was eight years old. You told me yesterday you’d only sat on a horse three times in your life. We will take as many breaks as you need and either way you will be sore once we arrive. Which is okay. I would never expect more from you than you can willingly offer.”

Shanks had meant the words as an encouragement and was surprised when Benn sighed. His head tilted and he looked into the cloudless sky, which made it hard for Shanks to make out Benn’s expressions when he answered. “I know, I … I know.”

Somehow Shanks wondered if they were really talking about riding anymore.

They had made many breaks, which Benn was very grateful for because he was feeling muscles burn in places he hadn’t been aware he had muscles at all. He understood why his legs were sore, but his shoulders? He was just holding the reins, for goodness sake. Date didn’t even need guidance most of the time, as she was used to riding next to or behind other horses leading the way. He shouldn’t feel his shoulders as much as he did.

In front of him he could see Shanks’ red hair whip with the movement of his horse. He didn’t seem faced by the long hours of their journey. He had however made them stop every two hours or so, which Benn knew was solely for his sake. Not once had Benn needed to ask to stop and it was a bitter realization that he likely wouldn’t have asked anyway. While his old life as a slave felt years away rather than mere months, some things would stay ingrained in his brain forever. Not admitting pain seemed to be one of them. He was used to pain, was used to gulp it down, endure and just keep on doing whatever he was doing. Shanks, however, would have none of that. Yet, he cared for Benn in a way that didn’t let him feel guilt over it, either. The thought that Benn could be a hindrance in his inability only crossed his mind in a very theoretical way, getting lost on the way towards his heart by Shanks’ reassuring smile.

They had talked quite a lot during the passing hours of their journey towards Sabaody. Shanks had told him stories of his younger years when he had called the bar they were riding to his home. While he had verged on the side of humor Benn had been able to hear the heartbreak, the loss and grief that drenched every word. Shanks’ years in Sabaody were shadowed by the loss of Roger, an always present reminder of why exactly they had needed to leave Manoas for the neutrality of the other town. Yet, there had been enough stretches of time where none of them had spoken. The silence between them never felt heavy. However, it gave Benn time to think. Shanks’ earlier words were stuck in Benn’s head, crawling back into the forefront of his mind whenever he had more than two minutes to himself. 

‘I would never expect more from you than you can willingly offer.’

Benn knew they were true. He knew Shanks would never take more than Benn could give or wanted to give. That wasn’t what bothered him. It was quite reassuring, honestly. No, what his mind couldn’t stop focussing on was rather what he did want to offer. Because he was aware that he had a choice and no one would take that choice from him.

He remembered how he had sat with Doc, Roo, Yasopp and Shanks in Shanks’ study, how Shanks had offered him … a home. But also the freedom to do whatever he wanted, be it a doctor, handling money, doing whatever his heart desired. But what did he desire? He knew Yasopp wouldn’t mind him taking over the finances. He knew Doc would love to teach him how to become a doctor and Shanks wouldn’t blink an eye to fund him the education. Roo probably wouldn’t mind keeping him in the kitchen and Benn liked it there. But he liked it because he could provide for the people of the palace. Shanks’ people.

What did he have to offer?

The meeting with the Murray brothers had shown Benn that he was quite capable of negotiating, of leading a conversation, of getting information needed to make a thoughtful decision. It had also shown him he probably would do quite the good job in taking over Yasopp’s role as finance minister, if Shanks ever considered giving him that position. Somehow Benn didn’t doubt that, especially with Yasopp’s backing. Even if not, he could help Yasopp, as he had done so before. The man was such a good armorer that it was a shame he barely had time for it. Yasopp deserved to do what he was good at and enjoyed, to support Shanks to the best of his abilities. Which lay with swords and bows, weapons, even smart inventions. Not so much with numbers.

He sighed. His thoughts were going in circles. Maybe the question wasn’t what he had to offer, but what he wanted to offer? Benn’s eyes caught Shanks’ red hair. They shimmered in the light of the sun. It was still quite bright in the sky but the heat of the midday was gone and it was closer to evening than Benn had realized. Houses could be spotted in the distance, a town and if Benn had to guess quite a bigger one than the villages they had stopped and rested in during the day. What time was it?

He blinked and then focused back on Shanks in front of him. The man sat in the saddle, relaxed but with poise, back straight, the black coat he wore swishing in the wind, like the king he was. Shanks had lost so much in his young years. Born into slavery he had found and lost a family before he had been eighteen. He had seen his father get murdered in front of him, hiding tears while hundreds of thousand people saw it as justice. Yet, it were the same people Shanks was now vowing to protect, vowing to lead into a better future. It was the same man who had chained himself again for Benn to believe he was free.

What did he have to offer to this incredible, wondrous, powerful man who had so much raw magic thrumming under his skin? A magic that was still growing by the second. Benn just had to focus inside and he could feel the sheer amount of magic as if it was his own. Could hear the roar of it as if it was his own. What did he have to offer to such a man that could take so much if he just wanted to and yet decided giving was his true nature? A man that … wanted him and still proved that having him as a friend was more important than his own desires. Benn would never forget the sacrifice Shanks had made for him, to rescue him from his own stupid self.

Benn knew he had some things to offer. He had quite the magic of himself, had decided to be loyal the moment Shanks had opened up during one sleepless night and he had a little smarts, too. What he had to offer was not the question. But what he wanted to offer, more so than anything.

Because the only answer he could find in himself was - everything. He wanted to offer everything. His magic, his intelligence, his trust, himself. Which should be a terrifying thought but it wasn’t. Thrilling yes, terrifying no. Benn just didn’t know where that left him, them. And whether Shanks even wanted everything from him. He had once said no…

‘I want you to want me.’

Before Benn could come to terms with the realization he just had - and before he could let the fear of what ifs and what if nots grip him - did Shanks stop Spitfire in her slow trot. Benn let Date close the distance until he was next to Shanks. “Everything alright?”

“We’re nearly there,” Shanks said and Benn realized that the town that had come closer and closer was indeed Sabaody. Hadn’t Shanks said Shakky lived in quite the dangerous area? The houses in front of him were tall and neat and looked rather luxurious.

“Why doesn’t this look like an area where you’d put a bar named ‘Rip-Off’?” Benn asked because it certainly didn’t. Shanks however only laughed.

“Don’t let that sight fool you. Sabaody has thieves and nobles live side by side, never meeting but always in the presence of each other. Like vinegar and oil. We’re heading to the other side of town.”

“Let me guess,” Benn mused, “it’s the vinegar side.” With a glance he checked if his longbow and quiver were still secure at the saddle. Shanks had insisted he’d take them, he himself carrying his sword in reach. With a flick of his hand did Benn loosen the latch so he could shoot in a heartbeat if need be. He hoped it wasn’t needed though. Shanks only grinned.

“I just told Shakky we’ll arrive in another fifteen minutes,” he said and then flipped his hood up, so his red hair was covered. Benn did the same with his own, even though he knew no one would give him any notice with a man like Shanks next to him.

The further they had ridden into the town the more had Benn realized what Shanks meant. Big houses, sometimes even mansions on one side had made way for a visibly poorer neighborhood. The houses were still built sturdily but they were small and Benn could see the decay. Broken windows, barred doors, sometimes even holes in the roofs. Not to mention the streets were littered, not only with waste but sometimes with people, too. There were the openly drunk and homeless, but also eyes Benn rather felt than saw, who calculated if they were worth robbing. No one dared to, though, which was probably due to the very visible sight of Shanks’ sword and his bow.

But it wasn’t the only difference from Manoas. Shanks’ main city had its name from the river Mano that spent life, made it green and bright by allowing the people to grow palm trees and flowers like hibiscus and Rika’s beloved Bougainvillea. You’d never forget the heat but it didn’t drag you down. Sabaody, however, felt darker. It was cornered both by the Sandora and in the distance the Redline, making it not yet a jungle but close. There were huge trees stretching over the houses and Benn wasn’t sure anymore if the sweat running down his back was due to the exhaustion of the ride or the rising humidity.

It surprised him a little when he saw a building some ways off that Shanks was riding towards. There were houses behind Benn but with a clear distance to the house that was obviously their destination. As if it said, beware, I’m here and this is my space. You’d better not fuck around. A sign hung above the door, underlining the impression with the clear name “Rip-Off Bar”. It was also much better intact than the buildings in Benn’s back. Yes, there were some vines and lianas hanging from the walls, but all the windows were intact, the entrance door seemed sturdy and the roof was almost shining. Which was probably because the few lamps that hung outside were shining, even though it wasn’t quite evening yet. But it wasn’t what impressed Benn the most. Rather he couldn’t stop looking at the many wards that were ingrained into the stone walls of the bar. Their intensity and nuances were so detailed and impressive it momentarily took his breath away. The amount of magical energy that had been needed to form them…

“Don’t you look surprised,” Shanks said next to him, smirking. He had stopped Spitfire who nervously danced from leg to leg. Date didn’t seem to care. Maybe because she wasn’t as aware of the proximity to their destination as Spitfire was.

There were quite a few questions running through Benn’s mind. Mainly how and who, but he settled on, “How long did it take to weave all these wards?” Which was another question he quite liked to know but couldn’t begin to grasp. Next to him Shanks shrugged.

“It was mostly me practicing with Rayleigh while I still lived here. So, three years give or take.”

Which… what? That meant Shanks had done these… when he had been under eighteen? With guidance, yes but still. Holy Maali… magic like a roaring river, indeed.

Next to him Shanks slipped off of his horse in a smooth motion and took the reins to lead Spitfire closer to the bar. Instead of keeping up his questions and why he only had more instead of less was another one, Benn slipped off Date as well. He slowly came to terms that Shanks was just like that. For a moment it felt like his knees would give out under him, having sat on a horse all day with quite too little experience but then Benn found his footing. Shanks had been right when he had said he would be sore. Benn already was.

Following Shanks quietly they rounded the house and Benn spotted a small stable, where a black horse already stood. He led Date into an empty box that thankfully was big enough for two animals and mirrored Shanks’ movements of taking off the saddle and bridle. He would have been pretty helpless alone, but whenever he didn’t know what to do next Shanks’ soft spoken words guided him. Date only whickered amusedly here and there under the ministration and Benn had to admit that while he hadn’t much rapport with horses, he did like Date. She was a sweetheart.

When they were done and the two horses were taken care of, Benn followed Shanks back to the front. He saw a woman waiting outside, which he figured was Shakky. She had black short hair, a cigarette hung in the edge of her mouth and a small smirk was on her lips. In one hand she carried a tray with glasses, the other was hidden in a pocket. The way she carried herself, the posture that spoke of confidence but not arrogance did fit Shanks’ descriptions of her quite nicely.

When she spotted Shanks, who pushed back his hood, she began to grin. “Took you quite a while. Rayleigh’s still preparing dinner. We figured you’d be hungry after that long of a ride. Come, get a drink and introduce me to your guest,” she said, which Benn took as his cue to push back his hood as well. He had all but forgotten he wore it.

It was almost comical to see the woman turn her head to look from Shanks to him, the smile still on her face until she seemed to take in his features. From one moment to the other her whole demeanor changed. The cigarette fell to the ground as she opened her mouth in a shocked, soundless oh and the tray that had been so secure in her hand slipped. It was unnaturally loud when the glasses shattered on the ground but Benn barely registered it because Shakky staggered two steps back, pressed a hand on her mouth and sobbed. All while her eyes never left Benn’s face.

“What the fuck is going on?” could be heard from inside, a deep voice thundering, quite irritated. The door opened to reveal an older man, white hair with blonde streaks, glasses, lines on his face. Silvers Rayleigh, Benn was sure. But honestly he had no idea what was going on. The woman, Shakky, was still staring at him, sobbing uncontrollably, ugly tears rolling down her face. “Shanks, what i-”

And just like before did the expression on Rayleigh’s face slip the moment his gaze fell on Benn. He stopped in the middle of his sentence, his mouth opening and closing without words coming out. Benn turned to Shanks to see if at least he had an idea what was going on, but Shanks looked as floored and irritated as Benn himself probably did. Then his head whipped back when he heard the man - Rayleigh his brain provided - say with a choked voice, “You look like your father. You look like Sebastian.”

What? Benn stared at the man he knew he had never seen before in his life. He stared at the man who had just uttered his father’s name with such assurance. His dead father’s name. Dead for over twenty years.

“We thought you’re dead,” Rayleigh choked, stepping out of the doorframe, almost helplessly, “Benn Beckman.” Said as if he needed to hear the name to prove it was real.

“How do you know my surname?” Benn heard himself speak, as if it hadn’t been him who had spoken. Because his brain didn’t register anything anymore, other than the utterance of his last name when he hadn’t uttered said last name in over twenty years himself. Not since that day. Not since everything had changed and his childhood had been erased. Which was the moment his own legs, still weak from ten hours on a horse, decided to give out.