To Tame A Beast

Overboard

A sword wields no strength, unless the hand that holds it has courage.
-Hero Shade
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         Lana's eyes fluttered open, her internal clock coaxing her awake. For as long as she could remember, she had always been an early riser, waking before the sun came up. A habit ingrained in her since she was a child, her parents were always excited to see what worldly beauty they could capture for that day. She pushed herself into a sitting position, stretching gingerly with a quiet yawn.
       Between her body's ability to heal faster than the average human thanks to her devil fruit power and Chopper's dedicated medical care, she only felt slightly sore when she moved. She tiptoed past Nami and Robin, still fast asleep in bed, carefully opening the door. Her bag rested on the floor within reach; she grabbed the bag shutting the door behind her.
      Crossing the length of the deck, she made a beeline to what had become her favorite sitting spot while the thousand sunny glided across the glittering ocean. The sky gradually lightened from its midnight blue from the night as the first light of dawn peeked off into the distance. Tendrils of gold and orange bled into the sky above like dancing ribbons as the sun's glowing orb made its way up from behind the horizon.
      Lana closed her eyes, inhaling the salty air as a slight breeze blew, warming her skin. The light glittered on the calm water reminding her of a pool of sparkling sapphires. She brought her legs up to her chest, resting her chin on top of her knees as she stared into the distance. Serenity washed over her, sighing with contentment; she was grateful for where she was now, thinking how much worse her life would be had that ship never wrecked.
        The sound of footsteps approached her as the strong smell of coffee enveloped her senses. She peered over to the noise seeing Sanji's shaggy blonde hair blow around his face, a lit cigarette hanging from his lip. In his hand was a tray with two ceramic cups, steam billowing out from both of them. Next lay a bowl of sugar cubes and a cream pitcher beside them.

"Always the early riser." Sanji grinned, pausing to look past her at the rising sun.

"I can't pass up a view like this; I've seen hundreds of sunrises and sunsets. I don't think I'll ever tire of looking at them." She smiled, dropping two sugars in the cup and swirling a dash of cream with a spoon softly.

She brought the cup to her lips carefully, sipping the hot liquid. Sanji always seemed to brew coffee and tea at the perfect temperature, just hot enough to enjoy but not scald your tongue.

"Mmm..." she moaned, closing her eyes and savoring the bold flavor. "Thank you; it's perfect."

"Anything for you, mon Cherie." He winked, leaving her to enjoy her coffee alone to stare off into the distance.

- - -

      Zoro begrudgingly rolled out of bed to wake up for the day, the others snoring loudly around him. The only one missing was Sanji, which wasn't abnormal. He would be starting prep for the day's meals by now. He grabbed his three swords, with the intent of showing them some much needed attention, their maintenance long over due.
        In a small dresser where he stored different changes of clothes and small personal items, he opened a drawer pulling out a small bamboo box. Leaving the room, he bounded up the steps inhaling the fresh air. The salty breeze whipping his hair around him, he made his way across the upper deck.
      The rays of the sun warmed his face, movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention. Lana sat on her knees on the rail of Sunny her arm flailing wildly. His eyebrow shot up inquisivly sneaking up behind her. Her hair was piled on top her head in messy knot, her denim overalls already stained with bright colors of paint.
     An amused smirk twitching on the corners of his mouth, she was passionate and messy when she painted. He took a seat at a small tea table far enough behind her that she wouldn't notice his presence, but close enough for him to be able to see her hard at work.
    He recounted the day after she first was brought on board, her panicked calling of his name making him run to her faster than he'd like to admit. When she told him she was searching for her bag, he doubled over in laughter at how distraught she was over it. He stroked the side of his face grinning where she had smacked him, he found it cute the way her face turned red and cheeks inflated with anger, stomping in the direction of her bag once he told her. The red mark of her hand print lasted almost all day, which earned him teasing from the other guys.
       He thought her to be meek and shy from the first couple interactions with her, he swiftly learned that was not the case. She was fiery and short tempered some of the time, while childlike and sweet at other times. He never knew what to expect from her, and that made getting under her skin that much more fun. He enjoyed discovering new buttons to push, it had slowly started becoming one of his favorite things to do during the day to pass time, even though Robin and Nami didn't approve. Frequently they would come to her rescue to separate her from him for his own good.
         He grabbed his first sword, Sandai Kitetsu, holding up with two hands he bowed before unsheathing it. These swords, an extension of himself, had seen and helped him survive many battles. He lay the sheath on the table, and rested the blade edge up across his lap. Taking the lid off the wooden box, he pulled out what looked like a tiny brass hammer with a pointed handle, followed by a cotton cloth neatly folded in a square.
      Using the end of the hammer, he expertly removed the pegs securing the hilt to the blade. Once the different parts had been disassembled, he set those and the hilt onto the table. Grabbing the cloth, he unfolded it once, the material taking on a rectangular shape, he pinched the material on either side of the blade swiping up the direction of the swords point slowly, inspecting the carbon steel for any imperfections.
        He draped the cloth over his thigh, reaching for his Uchiko ball. Whetstone that is pulverized into a fine powder nestled in a tight ball of double layer silk. The silk sewn closed, and attached to a smooth wooden stick making it easier to control. This ritual would polish any scratches from the blade, and absorb any old oil the cloth did not pick up.
        Zoro turned the blade in his hand gently tapping the blunt edge with the ball with a flick of his wrist, spreading out into one inch increments. He repeated those motions on both sides of the flat edges of the blade. He set down the Uchiko ball and polished the powder into the steel with soft circular motions up the length of the blade.
     Once all remenants of the powder was removed he applied a thin coating of Choji oil along the blade, this would provide a protective layer to the steel, to prevent any potential rusting. He removed the access oil with the cloth, ensuring an even coating inspecting the blade once more. Satisfied with his work, we reassembled the hilt before sliding it back into its sheath.
       He grabbed his next sword, Shusui, as black as his eyes to repeat the process. While he worked he stole a glance at Lana still painting away. Her once fervorous movments now moved slow with purpose as she leaned in closely to the canvas adding fine details. He couldn't make out what the picture was from that distance but he knew it would be full of life and bursting with color like it always was.
          All that was left was Wado Ichimonji, a white sword he inherited after his childhood friend and rival died. He pressed his mouth into a hard line trying to stuff back down the overwhelming sadness from those old memories that still haunted him, gnawing at his chest and the main driving force behind his goal.
        He unsheathed the blade with more tenderness than he showed the other two, taking his time with this one. The others could be replaced, Zoro didn't know what he would do if he ever lost this one. His thoughts trailed off to that dark night as he continued to work on the blade.

- - -

        Lana finished her painting with a satisfied huff, holding up the canvas to inspect the picture. The scene was a child hold the hands of her parent as they walked down the shore of a beach. She captured the row of shops, and a couple confection stands that lined the cobble stone road next to the beginning of the sand. Laying the canvas flat in front of her, she began putting the tubes of paint back in their places.
       She swirled the access paint off the brushes with a cup of water she had near her, making a mental note to thoroughly clean them later. She glanced over her shoulder seeing Zoro from a distance holding his white sword. She cocked her head to the side curiously, her brows furrowed with confusion at the expression on his face.
       Her eyes followed the slow purposeful movements of his large calloused hands, as he ran a cloth over the blade. His eyes shifted down at the blade, but what he saw seemed to be further away as he was lost in thought. She wondered what was running through his head that made him look as sad as he did. Her hand that rested on her lap twitched, she had the strangest urge to smooth out the lines on his forehead with her thumbs, to encourage his muscles to relax.
       She admired the tenderness in his touch while he handled the length of steel, watching the ripple of each muscle in his toned chest and arms. She pictured him wrapped those strong arms around her, imagining his obsidian eyes blazing with desire. She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat letting out a strangled breath, her face growing warm with the blush that crept up from her neck.
          Zoro looked up at her at that moment an eyebrow shooting up from the noise that escaped her throat.

Oh crap! She screamed in her head violently shaking it back and forth as if to toss out the lewd thoughts running through her mind.

      She opened her eyes to see an amused twinkle as if he could read her thoughts, with a flustered huff she quickly stood up to remove herself from his heated gaze. In her haste to leave she knocked over the cup of water with her foot, her foot came down hard slipping forward on the water. Her embarrassment morphed into panic and terror as she fell backwards off the ship with a surprised scream disappearing out of sight.