The beginning of this chapter is the very first part of this fic I wrote before I had anything else fleshed out, I'm so happy to finally be sharing it with you!
I listened to the song Non-Breakable Space by Small Fires on repeat during the writing of this part, so though it might not exactly fit the mood of the scene, you can still listen to it if you want. I obsessed over this song for months, it's so good!! Enjoy!
Also I'm pissed to be working on the 1st of May, but happy to be publishing this chapter, so I've got this card of Buggy, Croc, and Mihawk sitting on my desk and I feel just like this meme of Homer Simpson and his cork board filled with pictures of his daughter with written "Do it for her" on it except it's three middle-aged fictional men.
As a heads up: this chapter contains mentions of suicide and suicide ideation, just thought you might want to know!
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The wind blew loudly, both pushing against his back and coming from below. Buggy stood on the edge of the cliff, eyes fixed on the white sand underneath. He couldn't see it, but he knew there were rocks there, too.
He heard the sound of the rising tide eating at the beach with each new wave. He could see it getting higher and higher by the minutes, but he lamented the fact that the sea had not yet reached the bottom of the cliff. He would have wished to let himself fall with the sea under him. The rocks would have been the one to kill him, but the sea would have taken his body. Nothing would have remained.
But he could see the white sand. And the jump now felt less tempting than it had been in his mind on his way here.
Should he wait for the high tide? But it would then defeat his own impulse. He wasn't sure he would still have the resolve if he was to wait for the sea to be at its highest point.
He turned back to look at his horse, the black stallion was peacefully grazing on the thick grass of the coast. It was his only thing left. He was about to be stripped of everything, but his horse. He really was nothing anymore. But he'd come to realise, ever since his father's death, that he'd never been anyone in the first place. He never had anything on his own.
Why was he surprised, then, to realise that the two men had never been on his side? That shouldn't have been a surprise. If anything, he should have seen it coming. They had never wanted to serve him, anyway.
But Buggy had been blinded. By pain or by attraction, it didn't matter. Crocodile and Mihawk would hand him over to Shanks the moment the red-hair would reach Falaise, and he would be locked in a basement forever. Or killed, maybe. Buggy wasn't quite sure what his brother had in mind. Despite his words in the letter, the blue-haired man wasn't sure he could trust Shanks to not hurt him. And to think that he had thought that they were on good terms. That they loved each other, even. It appeared that this affection had not been mutual.
Yeah, the bottom of the cliff wasn't that unappealing, finally. He dropped the lunge rein, giving the horse's neck a last caress. The animal barely reacted, unaware of the inner turmoil of the man in front of him.
Walking back to the edge of the cliff, he took off his hat, throwing it in the air, and watched it slowly descend to the beach below. Despite the conflicted airflows, the hat still ended up falling into the sea, too heavy to fly away.
Just like Buggy. People would say that he could have fled, but he had no reason to, and nowhere to go. His heart was too heavy for him to bear having to keep on walking.
There was no setting sun to look at, only grey clouds filling the horizon in a never-ending sky. But it wasn't raining, contrary to the usual weather of the area. People often said that the weather changed constantly on the coastline.
He was taken out of his contemplation by the approaching sound of two sets of galloping hooves. He heaved a sigh, thinking about jumping right now before he would inevitably be stopped. Would he actually be able to bear going back to the castle?
But it wasn't high tide yet, and Buggy didn't want his blood to permanently stain the white sand below. He wanted his body to be washed away by the sea.
He gulped, feeling a shiver run through him. The wind was chilling, and he'd been standing here long enough for his body to get cold.
'BUGGY!' He heard from his left.
'FUCKING HELL, JESTER, DON'T DO THAT.' The other voice added.
Numbly, Buggy sat down, his legs dangling in the air. He noted that the grass was wet under him.
Behind him, the two horses came to a stop, and their riders dropped to the ground. For a moment, Buggy imagined them running to him and slipping, precipitating the bunch of them down the cliff.
But everyone remained on their feet, and he was hauled by the shoulders and tackled to the ground.
'ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND?' Crocodile screamed in his face, anger clear on his features. Buggy also noticed fear in his eyes. And that the hook was not attached to his left hand.
Crocodile's grip loosened almost immediately, his right hand coming to his forehead, checking for injuries. 'Are you hurt?' he asked, in a seemingly calmer tone.
Buggy shook his head.
Mihawk dropped to his knees at their side, his eyes scanning Buggy's body in search of injuries. Buggy noticed his trembling hands hovering over him. Contrary to Crocodile, he didn't say a thing.
Buggy had questions, some he wanted to ask, some he feared the answers to. He thought of asking them first, before the two knights would rip the possibility of knowing away from him.
But their presence and the care they displayed did not change his disinclination towards everything surrounding him. He didn't give a fuck about Normandy anymore. Didn't care about the throne. Didn't care about shit.
'The letter is a threat towards me, not an admission of treason.' Mihawk said, breaking the silence. Buggy did not answer.
'I am not working with Shanks, I assure you, Buggy.' The use of his name in Mihawk's mouth was foreign to Buggy's ears. It was probably the first time the man used it. Still, Buggy didn't react.
'What happened between you and the Red-Hair?' Mihawk's head turned towards Crocodile, shocked. It probably was the first time Crocodile asked such a direct question about his past.
He didn't want to answer, but he couldn't possibly keep on hiding what had happened in Aquitaine. But saying it out loud and seeing the two men's reaction would be the first time someone would have an insight on the story. This was what Mihawk had always purposefully avoided. Because their reaction would then tell him if his own actions had been unjustified, if he was exaggerating, and the thought of seeing their faces wearing contempt towards him made him want to sink his nails inside his palms. Made him seek violence.
Instead, he sat down. It was his turn to look at the grey sky.
'I like men, in case you didn't notice it before. Shanks did. Made me come to his quarters, to be drinking buddies, he'd said. And that was the case, at first. At some point, we fucked. And it was okay. Then he invited me to those parties with whores and other men. Asked me to fuck some random people I didn't even know, some women too. I did it, at first, because it was different.' His voice lowered. 'And because it was for Shanks.' His jaw clenched and unclenched.
'But I grew tired of it, and refused to come. He didn't like it. He demoted me. From personal knight, I was sent to the rookies. Not for training, just so I would be bored, in a group with kids that would not be sent to the battlefield because they were too young. All the while he kept pestering me, trying to get my attention back. One day he was nice, the other he wanted me to come to those parties, and on some others he ignored me. I knew I could find work anywhere, so I decided to leave.' He paused again, this time turning to the two men who listened to him intently.
'He treated me like a fucking toy, playing with me just so I could do whatever he wanted me to. He didn't like that I didn't let myself be pushed around.' There was no sadness in his eyes when he said it, only boiling rage.
There was silence, and then Buggy burst out laughing. It was obviously a nervous one, but it lasted quite a while.
When he calmed down, he wiped at the corner of his eyes. 'Things still have to go his way, huh. It was the same in England. Roger always let him get away with everything. Not that he was different with me, but what I did never measured up to what Shanks did.' He choked back a sob. Crocodile's hand came to rest on his shoulder.
'I'm sorry he did this to you.' Buggy said. 'I didn't know he acted this way with others too.'
Crocodile squeezed his shoulder, shaking him slightly. 'Don't apologise for him, Jester. He's a fucking asshole, and it had nothing to do with you.'
Buggy wanted to answer that if Shanks had turned this way, Buggy probably had something to do with it since they'd been raised together, but he swallowed it up. There were so many things in his head right now.
'How did you find me?' He settled on asking, sniffling. It seemed to be the safest question.
Mihawk had scooted closer, hands crossed on his laps. Even sitting on the grass, he looked elegant. 'The other day's training session. You mentioned Cabourg and the sea. Seeing as the horse was gone, it was the only option we had.'
Buggy nodded. 'Of course.' He laid down on the ground, eyes fixed on the sky. The two men kept watching him.
'I would have done it, had the tide been high.' He said.
Eyes fixed on his face, Crocodile asked 'What stopped you?'
'My blood would have stained the white sand. I didn't want to be remembered for it. Didn't want to be remembered at all, actually.' He said, evasively. He wanted to get it out before he'd get his ability to feel shame back.
Crocodile talked again. 'You could get revenge on him, the two of you. If you were to reach England, defeat Teach, and get to the throne before him, he would not be able to do anything.'
Buggy snorted. 'You make it sound like we could actually make it happen. Like it's easy.'
'Is it not?' Mihawk asked.
Buggy paused to think about it. They had men, Cabaji had guaranteed during the last meeting. They had wood, too, and Normans were renowned shipwrights. Ships could be built quickly if they had enough labour force. On a good weather day, they would be able to reach the English shore in eight hours. They could carry out the preparations in only a few weeks, and if they were lucky, reach England before Teach would have its full control. Before Shanks would be at their gate.
Buggy shivered, the wind rising. The grey sky was slowly turning black, and it was harder to see his knights' faces.
Detached, Buggy finally answered. 'If luck was on our side, it could be.'
'Is it, then?' Mihawk asked, and Buggy chuckled humourlessly.
'Never. Luck was never on my side.' He simply said. 'The court has constantly diminished my influence on the Duchy to the point that the majority of the Counts and Barons of Normandy are no longer considering me as the rightful Duke. Some crazy man is out to get me, for some reason. And my brother sees me as a weakling and does not even consider me a threat. Yeah, very lucky indeed.' He raised his voice with the last sentence, sarcastic.
Crocodile did not seem to agree with him, though, countering. 'Despite the elite's constant belittling of your person, your popularity amongst peasants is notable, and this despite your relationship with England. The people seem to have pinned their hopes on you, for some reason. Teach's attempts at ridding you of your ability to rule is understandable, as you are only one of the two men considered as rightful pretenders to the throne. And as for Shanks, –his voice took a contempt edge– his strength is nothing in face of the significant lack of outside support Aquitaine seems to have experienced ever since his coming to power.'
It was probably the longest Buggy had heard Crocodile talk. He sounded angry, but Buggy did not fear him. It was new, to actually see him act as if he cared about what was happening.
'Would you, perchance, be trying to lift my spirit and convince me to not give up the throne?' Buggy asked, a slightly amused lilt in his voice as he talked.
Crocodile did not answer. Instead, he beckoned for Buggy to straighten up. Curious, Buggy did, after a few seconds of consideration. Silently, and with a movement of the head, the other man made him stand up.
Crocodile towered over him, his shoulders concealing the sea and a part of the grey sky. Buggy wasn't watching them anymore, anyway. Instead, he was transfixed by Crocodile's face.
The older man stepped closer to the Duke, his hand coming to lift Buggy's head up. Buggy did not move. He didn't move even when Crocodile's hand grazed his left cheek, the feeling soft despite there barely being any contact.
It looked like Crocodile wanted to do something, but did nothing. Instead he stepped back towards the horses. 'Come.' It was said in a firm but low voice, not really an order, sounding more like a demand, Buggy's answer a mystery.
The offer was tempting. He was cold, and he longed for his bed. He could feel Mihawk's gaze on his nape. As much as he tried not to let it show, Buggy was a weak man, so he followed Crocodile.
Wordlessly, he climbed behind Crocodile on the horse, the man's hand reaching for him, pressing him closer to his back and making Buggy wrap his arms around his waist. Buggy complied. From the corner of his eyes, he caught sight of Mihawk leading his Friesian by the reins to his own horse.
Mihawk got on his horse, and with a look to Crocodile and a nod, they set off.
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Both knights escorted him to his room. Somehow, and despite not having done much during the day, Buggy felt exhausted. The tension was slowly bleeding out of him as Mihawk led him to the bed.
Buggy sat down and took off his shoes. Mihawk watched, in silence, as he let his coat drop to the ground. Crocodile joined them after having checked inside the three bedrooms. He looked incredibly tall from where Buggy sat.
The blue-haired man looked at him, itemising his knight. A thought had crossed his mind on the way home, and he let it slip from his lips, immediately looking up to try to see Crocodile's reaction. 'You know so much about us now, yet we still know so little about you.'
The knight's face did not change, though he did not try to pretend he hadn't heard Buggy. 'There is nothing to know about me.' He answered.
Buggy did not agree with him. 'Well, firstly, there's your left hand, and the choice of wearing a hook instead of anything else as a replacement. There's the scar in the middle of your face, too. And the fact that you only have a name and no last name. I know nothing about you, really.'
Still, Crocodile did not react. Buggy continued. 'Don't you have something to give us, when you know so much about Mihawk and I's afflictions?'
Jaw clenching and unclenching in discomfort, Crocodile's eyes passed from Buggy to Mihawk, obviously unnerved by Buggy's request. But the other man was not wrong, and he knew about the two men beyond reason, a proof of trust he had yet to return.
Sighing, he sat on the bed, eyes fixed on Buggy. His hand came to caress his cheek, and Buggy watched, frozen, as Crocodile leant down and kissed him. Pulling back slowly, he let his hook rest on Buggy's limp hands on his knees. 'This is the only thing you'll get, for now.' He said very quietly, as if saying this was already too much for him.
Silently, his right hand left Buggy's cheek to catch one of Mihawk's hands, and he laced their fingers together instead.
Eyes wide and slightly breathless, Buggy looked at both men, unsettled. 'What is it supposed to mean?'
Mihawk, until then silent, reached for Buggy's hair with his free hand. He brushed a strand away from his face, tucking it behind the man's ear. His fingers grazed his cheekbone.
'Nothing until the war is won.' Mihawk said in a determined tone.
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Ahhhh!!! How did you like it?
To give you some context, Buggy's scene where he's standing on the edge came to me one night as I was listening to Non-Breakable Space by Small Fires, and before I knew, I had this very dramatic scene where Buggy was contemplating ending his life. And since it was the first words I wrote in this fic, I had to work around it to make it so Buggy would somehow be so desperate that he'd run away from the castle and think about killing himself, but also to make it so he wouldn't actually see through it for some reason. This chapter might be my favourite because it is a turning point in the story and also Buggy is at his lowest and I love to see him miserable!
Also, this chapter is the reason why this fic is called Falaise. Firstly it is because it's Buggy's (and William the Conqueror's) city of birth and residence, but also because I consider this scene to be the most important one in the fic, and Buggy is standing on the edge of cliffs, which in French is called « falaises », so I thought this word couldn't be any more fitting as a title!
I'm really excited to share the rest of the fic with you, if you're not familiar with William the Conqueror's history, I got my inspiration from a few events that actually happened to him, and it was really fun to try to put Buggy in similar situations!
As always, please do leave comments, as brief as they might be, they never fail to please me! See you on Sunday!