Archive of Our Own ^beta

1. beginning.

The first time he met Vivi, she was a mess of blown cover and loose lips and strong enemies hot on her heels; but it was when she stood tall on Merry’s deck, requesting them to sail in the direction of their navigator’s cure and smiled, uncomplainingly, determinedly, with the weight of a crumbling country and two million lives of warring men quietly held in her closed fists, that it truly began. 

2. accusation.

"Not like that," she keeps her head down under Kohza's prodding stare, cheeks heating up to a helpless blush as she mumbles, "Yes, I do miss him, but it's not like that."

3. restless.

Ever since Usopp told him that one of a princess' duties is to marry another royal there's been something weird inside of him; another gear that he didn’t know exists, shifting.

4. snowflake.

The people are a crown’s duty, she had said to him, the flame in her eyes burning through the frost on top of the Drum mountain, through the white specks caught in her lashes, and he is a cruel man for abandoning his—so it’s good that you sent him away.

5. haze.

It’s becoming a rare occurrence, the thought of him, kept at bay with all the undertakings one should do in order to restore a country; but when it does come, it never fails to sweep over her like a rogue wave—a sudden surge of nostalgia followed by a sort of melancholy she refuses to examine, bits of madness where she wishes his laughter is at an arm’s length instead of oceans away—and though she succeeds in shaking it off each time, pain linger in her chest without fail; the absence of a friendly captain now all the more clearer in the silence of her study.

6. flame.

His little brother has always got a good eye when it comes to people, but it still baffles Ace that Luffy manages to pick up what seems to be the only respectable noble on this side of the Grand Line right on his first voyage.

7. formal.

Some days, when the Alubarnan sun is low and she is finally allowed some private time to read about the crew's newest ventures, she would think about the future and wonder about the weight of his crown; for there must be a burden, too, in being freedom personified.

8. companion.  

There is an odd familiarity in the way Vivi talks about her childhood friend that makes Luffy confused as to how she’s only ever been a princess her whole life—Vivi speaks of Kohza the way pirate captains speak of their first mate.

9. move.

She ignores Igaram’s pleas for her to take a break in lieu of remembering how a rubberman looks in motion—the angle that made a punch that hits harder than gunshot possible, the calculation it must’ve taken to control those elongated limbs, how most of his attacks are, at their core, an intricate extension of a fist—and swings her peacock slasher one more time.

10. silver.

It’s hard to concentrate on the rare times he takes up the night watch; partly because solitude in a sleeping ship doesn’t offer much entertainment, and partly because the sight of moonlight bleeding molten silver into the dark blue waves makes him think of how her hair looked in the darkness.

11. prepared.

“You shouldn’t be so surprised, Carue,” she gently chastises, opening the newspaper now that she’s finished reading the front page, “He’s going to become the Pirate King, of course he’s bound to have a fleet along the way.”

12. knowledge.

She knows what sort of man the world would paint him as when his crew’s stories morph into legends, and so takes bittersweet comfort that she is one of the lucky individuals who got to know the boy underneath the hat: one who has a hunger for adventure so big sometimes she’s afraid the whole world couldn’t satiate it, who is as defiant as he is kind, who likes to eat and laugh and sing; who is first and foremost a pirate.

13. denial.

Igaram’s horrified voice echoes through the palace walls, “WHY IS THERE A WANTED POSTER BETWEEN THE PRINCESS’ SUITOR PHOTOS?!”

14. wind.

I’ve missed this, Vivi shyly admits when he finds her by Sunny’s taffrail, looking at the great blue that stretches to the horizon and beyond; Luffy watches her watch the waves, unblinking even as the salty breeze makes a mess of their hair, and desperately wishes she would keep yearning for the sea for as long as they live.

15. order.

Getting to know his new crew should be done with decorum, but Brook can’t help the swell of curiosity every time his gaze lands on the foreign name squeezed between the fifth and sixth slot in their dishwashing roster, which is why he ends up asking during one of their less-clamorous dinners, gesturing at the piece of paper tacked on beside the sink, “May I ask who this Vivi fellow is? Are they perhaps… not with the living anymore?”—only to be met with Nami’s fist and an enraged chorus of “SHE’S ALIVE! SHE’S VERY MUCH ALIVE!!!!”

16. thanks.

His first few nights after Alabasta were haunted by murky dreams, most of them ugly memories of sand-ridden fights, except for one: a blurry glimpse of light blue amidst feverish haze, with cool fingers brushing his hair away, tender and careful, followed by the weight of a wet compress on his forehead and a gentle squeeze around his hand; a shaky whisper of thank you for taking back the rain, Luffy-san.

17. look.

She knows that he is both shameless and honest, in a way she has seen no pirates but him can—but the roguish way he tilts the brim of his hat just above his eyes and angles his shadowed gaze straight to hers across the partying room, cheek propped on one fist, is definitely something new; a kind of honesty that makes Vivi very aware of her heart beating double-time once it finishes its message (and perhaps it also tells something about herself when she ends up returning it with her own: a tilt of the head, soft blue framing lidded eyes, a smile that is slow and a tick too loose on one corner—shameless in a way no princesses like her should).

18. summer.

The way Vivi eats is as incongruous as her personality—there is a noble’s grace in her bites, delicate and noiseless; a child’s gawkiness in the wet red shine of her lips, noticeable to everyone but her as she chews; a pirate’s greediness in the way she refuses to share, hunching over the fruit with a look that’s almost chastising if not for her grin (Luffy grumpily stomps back to his pile of sliced watermelons and gobbles the rest of them in silence, messily and down to the rind; puzzled as to why watching Vivi eat made him ravenous like this).

19. transformation.

His wanted poster is in dire need of an update, Vivi thinks weakly as she stares at the laughing man standing on her docks, Tamarisk’s sunray catching at what can only be a very becoming scruff along his jaw as he finally spots her figure and gives an enthusiastic wave.

20. tremble.   

The smell of sea battle is still fresh on his skin when Luffy throws his arms around her; gunpowder and salt and burnt rubber and triumph, electrifying and familiar.

21. sunset.

The sun is a golden, capsized ship sinking into the endless sea of sand; Luffy’s gaze wanders to Vivi’s back, who is currently on the lookout for any signs of sandstorm among the dunes, and promptly decides that what makes a good seafarer and a good desert dweller are one and the same.

22. mad.

Vivi has always been gentle and kind, but when she punches him under the burning desert sun it comes with an unrefined ferocity that doesn’t and yet fits her all at once, which also happens to fit Luffy just fine, because watching her all this time—why can’t she understand that Crocodile won’t be beaten like this, that her own life is both too precious and not enough to save this country, that this will kill her, that stupid, stupid Vivi—has made him itching for a fight.

23. thousand.

She is a beautiful ship—unfamiliar in her magnitude and pomp, but the jolly fierceness of her figurehead bears a resemblance to the sweet caravel that was once Vivi’s beacon of hope—and when her hull shimmers under the Tamarisk sun, proud with the salt of all the seas she’s sailed on, it’s clear that this one will have a port in her heart too; Luffy shoots her a grin from his seat across the deck, wide and full of satisfaction like he just heard her thoughts, and Vivi bashfully returns it, fingers curling into the warm grass in silent gratitude (thank you for carrying them back to me).

24. outside.

"BIG NEWS! The Pirate King has officially claimed the Kingdom of Alabasta as his turf!"

25. winter.

The sight of scornful villagers in the face of his rashness, the sound of gunshot, and the smell of Vivi's blood amidst the freezing air; a lesson he will never forget.

26. diamond.

The gemstone that Luffy drops into her palm is blocky and coarsely cut, very much a diamond in the rough like the man who gifted it to her; Vivi's pleased surprise however is quick to turn into a flustered one when Luffy plasters himself onto her back, turns her wrist so the clearest side of the gemstone is directly exposed to the sun—refracting the light into stripes of clear, tropical blue that land at their feet—and gleefully says beside her ear, "Cool, right? Told ya it's just like your hair."

27. letters.

The sheer amusement over his perpetually rowdy and unannounced arrivals always makes up for the absence of letters between them; he always comes back, and that’s what truly matters.

28. promise.

In the two-year silence that happened before his crew’s return to the world, Vivi would often catch herself tracing the back of her wrist, where an X mark used to rest, to quell her anxieties and convince herself that they are alive and will return.

29. simple.

"Sail with me, Vivi."

30. future.

Vivi’s smile is a call for adventure all on its own; one he realizes he is willing to follow, now.