One Piece Fan Fiction ❯ Lily ❯ Chapter 1

Lily

 

 

I do not own One Piece or any of its characters, they are property of Oda

 

At the back of the church, Chopper was in plain sight of each of the congregation as they crowded in from the cold night, and he was attracting more than his fair share of sidelong glances.

 

“I think they're wondering who I am.” He laughed, jokingly to his companion.

“I think they're more likely wondering what you're wearing. Robin returned succinctly. “When people turn up for the annual carol service, they don't expect to see someone who is dressed in little more than shorts and a big pink hat.” Chopper pulled a face, in their years together Robin hadn't changed in a single bit.

 

He studied her quietly as several people, ruddy-faced from the sudden flush of warmth inside the church, paused and exchanged greetings with her. The two hadn't seemed to change over the years, Robin's hair still as black as ever, her figure still trim. Chopper still seemed to hold the body of an eight year old, but that was seldom used now, he simply chosen to keep himself in Human point whenever company was present. Then there was, of course. Lily.

 

Lily sat very still between them, her black hair neatly done up in ribbons, she was the perfect spit of Robin, although she did usually complain about her blue nose and hair where there really should not be hair growing. She was slight for her age, perhaps because she was inclined to regard food as an unwelcome intrusion into her world. Lily had an unnerving tendency to stare, unblinking, at whatever currently held her interest, but right now her dark eyes were unfocused, her lips slightly parted. She was rapt, listening to the organ as it filled the small church up to its high wooden beams with a rich swell of sound.

 

A family occasion such as this had ensured that the church played host to a sizable flock this December evening, and every effort had been made to welcome them. A great vase of holly and trailing ivy had been positioned at the side of the lectern, while pots of bright poinsettias blazed at strategic intervals. Small children, clutching at their parent's hands, paused up to stare at the tall Christmas tree placed by the font. And point excitedly at the glittering star perched lopsidedly on the top.

 

Lily hadn't been interested in the tree even when Robin had drawn her attention to it. She'd skipped around her father and mother, singing loudly, until the tones of the organs rippling through an assortment of well-loved carols had caught her attention. Then she'd sudden been quiescent, allowing herself to be seated on the pew while she listened.

 

Now, as the congregation was called good-humouredly to order by the vicar, Lily began to fidget, squirming on her cushion and pulling faces. But the vicar's welcoming speech was brief and to the point; there would be no sermon today, only a few Bible readings and as many carols - old favourites and new - that could be packed into the next hour and a half.

 

As soon as the first carol started, Lily became still once again. As the congregation began to sing with a vigour born of familiarity and affection, so Lily's voice rose alongside them. She was word perfect, which was more than could be said about her father. Carol after Carol, she knew them all, never faltering over the more archaic words and expressions in the old favourites. She showed particular enthusiasm for some of the livelier numbers, swaying in time to the music and clapping her hands. She never once spoke to Chopper or Robin, completely spellbound by the music flowing around her.

 

The church was soon warmed enough for Robin, and many others to unfasten their coats; Chopper felt that this changed had little to do with the heaters glowing red from above, but rather more to do with the sheer energy and goodwill generated by the congregation. Stealing a sidewords glance at Robin, he was pleased to see a more relaxed expression on her face, as if the frozen knot of anxiety inside her had thawed in the presence of such glowing Christmas cheer.

 

During the Bible readings, Lily stayed silent but began wriggling about and fiddling with her hair. Robin said nothing, but Chopper was aware of her watching Lily closely in case her behaviour suddenly deteriorated and it became advisable for them to remove her; they had taken seats at the back of the church so that they could make a relatively unobtrusive exit should Lily's behaviour go beyond all hope of redemption.

Several times she kicked the back of the pew in front of her, and the people occupying it swung around to look at her. Although they frowned initially, as soon as they saw the little girl they turned back without saying a word. One smiled rather apologetically at Robin. It seemed the village knew Lily well enough even though the three tended to live in seclusion. Probably because everyone in the village knew about the Doctor's pride and joy.

 

The service drew to a close with one last barnstorming modern carol that had everyone joining in with enthusiasm. When the last sounds faded the vicar stepped forward, a well-pleased smile on his face, and announced that refreshments were available: coffee, tea, orange squash and homemade mince pies.

 

“Would you -” Chopper got no further. Lily was making her disinterest in refreshments known by trying to shimmy past her grandmother. Robin and Chopper made a valiant attempt to stop her, but Lily squealed in protest, kicked Robin on the shins and wiggled away. Robin threw a look at Chopper that spoke volumes. Fortunately the headlong nature of Lily's dash to freedom left a clear trail through the press of people starting to gather for refreshments. Chopper and Robin plunged after her, out through the church doors.

 

 

The night of the cold swept around them like a dark cloak, eclipsing the memory of the bright sanctuary of the church with all its warmth and festivity. Robin shivered and tugged up the collar of her coat, hurriedly fastening it. Chopper noted wistfully that the anxious look was back in her eyes again, even though Lily hadn't gone far and was going nothing at all alarming.

 

The little girl was standing on the path outside the church doors, looking up at the sky. Her eyes were bright and deep, her mouth open wide with fascination. Fat, feathery snowflakes were spiralling down, and she held out her hands, squealing with glee as one flake after another fell on her palms like frozen kisses.

“SNOW!” she shrieked in a wild, high voice of delight. “Snowsnowsnowsnow….”

 

“Yes, snow.” Robin returned tiredly. She raised an eyebrow at Chopper and sighed. They watched as the little girl giggled and capered, clapping her hands in delight as the snowflakes fluttered all around her like a cloud of white moths, he wrapped a protective arm around Robin.

 

“You know, she plays in the snow until she's crying with cold, but if we try and bring her inside she screams herself sick.” Robin smiled as she cuddled into Chopper. “We better get moving.” She said after a good ten minutes, I don't want to be caught up in the rush once all those refreshments have vanished and everyone is on the road trying to get home at once.”

 

“Do we have to walk back on the road?” Chopper smiled. “Why not take the same way we came, through the woods?”

“Because its cold and its snowing, that's why.”

“Exactly, it's snowing and nearly Christmas. Come on, Robin!” he practically dragged her. “A ten minute walk on a footpath through a small wood! Not a hundred-mile hike through a blizzard on a ice continent.” He smiled, the most winning smile he had at his disposal.

Robin hesitated for a moment. Then she smiled back, and this time it was a genuine smile that actually reached her eyes.

“You never change, do you? Well, I mean, you look older, but you still have that childish glee that I fell for.”

“I'm not a kid.” Chopper grumbled. “Besides, you're the same, aren't you?” The was a small pause.

 

Robin shrugged. “I don't know. Sometimes I wonder about that, I wonder a lot.” She pulled her torch out of her pocket and flicked it on; a dim, pale beam shone out vaguely through the darkness. “Come on, Lily.” Robin raised her voice a fraction. “We're going to walk home through the woods, would you like that?”

 

For the first time that night, Lily responded to Robin's voice. She stood still for a moment, staring up at her mother with bewildered eyes as if she was struggling to take in what had been said. Then

“Yes!” she cried, clapping her hands in delight. “Yesyesyes!”

“Come on then. Robin took the lead, casting the torchlight in front of her, although Chopper seemed to be putting more faith in the natural light from the moon and the gathering snow. He kept behind Robin, one hand stretched out to Shepard Lily in the right direction should she show any inclination to stray.

 

They were the first to leave, and they had nearly reached the gate before some children spotted the falling snow and raced outside with shrieks and whoops of joy. A few curious adults peered out through the doors with more caution and less enthusiasm. Lily looked over her shoulder and eyed the children with disinterest as one of the bigger boys began scraping at the grass in a valiant but rather premature attempt to make a snowball. Then she skipped past Robin and Chopper without a backwards glance, heading towards the woodland path.

 

The snow was falling more thickly now and the footpath wound through the woods before them like a white carpet. Leafless trees flanked the path, snow beginning to coat the stark branches. Lily didn't seem to feel the cold; she fiercely resisted Robin's attempts to put on her mittens, swiping her hand away. Then she danced on ahead, skipping and laughing, sticking out her tongue to catch the snowflakes. Lost in her own world, she paid Robin and Chopper no attention at all.

 

Robin sighed. “Not so long ago the villagers would have called her a changeling. A fairy child left in exchange for a human baby. Sometimes I get to feeling that's not so far from the truth.

 

“It's hard.” Chopper said. “Trying to understand how her mind works.”

“You said yourself, there isn't really any understanding it. We know she has Autistic Spectrum Disorder, and all we can do is to find ways of dealing with her behaviour.”

“A steep learning curve.” Chopper added.

“A bloody never-ending learning curve.” Robin's expression was bleak, she seemed almost on the verge of tears.

“I told you, when she gets older she may improve.”

 

“But that's it! She MAY improve, I don't even want to think of the future anymore.” She almost sobbed. “I just fear that I may bring her into a situation that she couldn't handle. All it takes is for her to over-react and attack a kid, and there goes the tolerance, everyone knows what she's like, but if they think she's violent then I.” she sobbed into Chopper's chest, he hugged her, watching Lily dance ahead, twisting and turning in the snowflakes like a tiny mad dervish.

 

“She's mine…..I don't want anything to happen to her. She's such a beautiful little girl, and at moments like this she seems so normal, so perfect, and yet…” she hesitated, a ruefull smile on her lips. “In her own way she's more scary than anything we've seen before.”

 

Their cottage was at the end of a narrow cul-de-sac, bordered by woods and fields. Robin had left the outside lamp on; it shone hazily ahead of them through the flurry of sow as they came to the end of the woodland path and walked the last few yards to the gate. Chopper opened it, and Lily skipped through without hesitation.

 

Robin seemed to be mentally bracing herself for trouble as she watched Lily dart around the garden, exploring the suddenly unfamiliar snowscape. Chopper thought for a brief moment and touched her shoulder lightly.

“No” he said, shaking his head. “Not yet.”

 

Robin shot him a look. “Waiting won't make it any easier to get her inside, you know that.”

“That wasn't why I asked you to wait.”

“Then why?”

“Look at her.” Chopper said gently, opening the palm of one hand and gesturing Robin to see what he saw.”

 

Lily was dancing in the snow, a spark of brightness, her red coat a muted splash of colour against the dark sky and white snow. She twirled around and around, her arms outstretched as if she wanted to capture all the snow in the world and hug it to her and never let it go. Her dark hair whipped in damp strands across her head as she spun, her eyes wide and dreamy.

 

“What do you see?” Chopper asked.

“What do you mean?”

“When you look at her, what do you see?”

Robin took a deep breath. “I see…my child. Someone who's part of me, a changeling that I'll never understand, that I can never make happy.”

“Ah.”

“Ah?”

“She's happy now. Can't you see it? Because of you.”

“Yes, but -“

“No buts, Robin.” Chopper pressed a finger to her lips and was rewarded with a smile, her smile. “You're still the bravest girl I know.”

“It'll never be enough.”

“All you can is enough.” He told her. “What does she have that you don't? Didn't? Always wanted?”

“I….”

“She's got you, she's also got me too, but she's got you, a mother, the most important thing a child should have.”

“One day at a time.” Robin pulled a face.

 

“Not always.” He smile. She looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Sometimes one moment at a time is better.” He held out his hand. “Now, may I have the pleasure?”

“What?”

“May I have the pleasure of this dance?”

“You want me to dance with you?” Robin blinked.

“Why not? Lily's dancing. I think we should too.” He grinned. Robin took his hand. Her lips twitched.

“Is this your if you can't beat 'em, join `em strategy?

 

“Something like that.” Robin slipped one arm around Robin's waist and begun to spin her lightly round and round. Robin tried unsuccessfully to smother her laughter.

“We must look absolutely ridiculous!” she exclaimed.

“I'm sure we do.” Chopper grinned and picked up pace, wildly waltzing them both around the garden. Robin dropped the torch and, giggling like a schoolgirl, left it lying where it fell. The cottage lamp and the downy swirl of snow gave all the light they needed.

 

Lily paused. Titling her head to one side, she observed Chopper and Robin as if she didn't quite know what to make of their behaviour. Then she hurled herself at them, her fingers clawing at their arms. Her eyes were bright and begging.

“I want to dance with you! Let me, let me, let me!”

 

“Of course we'll let you, sweetheart.” Robin said, her voice catching in her throat. Chopper said nothing. His smile deepened. After a passionate kiss to her husband. Robin carefully took hold of those small, cold hands and drew Lily into the dance.