#open-ended

See, sometimes I wonder how Rosinante's understanding of ethics worked. We get so little about him and his history in canon, and who he was as a person is, in some ways, a mystery. Most of the story we get told is through other people's perception of him; his POV is extremely limited.

What we do know is that he grew up as a Celestial Dragon, where the ethical standard is "do what feels good, and you are correct". It's not so much of a jump then, imo, to think that he learned most of the "rules of social interaction" by rote from Sengoku. They're not an instinctive thing that he does automatically, "Because it's Right". Instead, there's a set of orders that he's memorized in order to gain his adoptive father's approval. "This is what you do in X situation, and this is what you don't do when faced with Y, and if you do things like that, you will be A Good Man, and the people who you cherish will not reject you."

Only, then Law. Then Rosi's rejecting "Being Good" by leaving the Navy and all of the other people who he'd previously valued behind, because this kid is more important. Then, suddenly all bets are off.

At first, that's great for Law! If he's hungry, Rosi will steal food. If they're being attacked, Rosi will kill their attackers. If he's cold, he has a warm place to sleep. If he's lonely there's two big, loving arms to hold him and a strong chest to hide his face in, while Rosi murmurs, "There there, I've got you."

But then as Law grows up, he realizes that there's another thing he wants: Rosinante himself. And that's where it gets squiggly.

Law has been nursing a crush for an untold amount of time, and he's dealing, but badly. He's not good at lying to his Cora-san, has never needed to. Rosinante doesn't judge, only ever accepts Law as he is and where he's at. But surely this is the line, right? Surely… having his ward confess attraction to him would be a sticking point, no matter that Law's grown up quite a bit, and is certainly not thirteen anymore? Maybe it wouldn't be, but Law can't risk it. He keeps his mouth shut.

Only, one day, Rosinante comes in from doing yard work, and he's shirtless and sweaty and divine. Law doesn't realize that he's hard until he realizes that Rosi's noticed, and by then it's too late to hide it.

Rosi does some mental gymnastics. "Oh, there's no one around here who he'd trust to do that kind of stuff with, huh?", he thinks. His memory casts back to the times, when he was a Marine cadet. Sometimes, when the crew was on a boat for months at a time, and the only other people around were your fellow Marines, you gave a buddy a hand. And he likes Law significantly more than he'd liked any of those crewmates, doesn't he?

So, while Law braces for rejection, Rosi walks closer, then clears his throat.

"Hey," he says, dropping to his knees in front of Law, bringing the two of them face to face. "You want some help with that?"

Law looks up, astounded, but it's true: Rosi is offering to get him off as casually as he'd offer to fix dinner.

To Rosi, this slots under the heading of "If Law wants it, and I can give it to him, why not?"

To Law, this is the realization of fantasies that he's been holding dear to his heart for years.

The problem is this: they don't talk about it. Why would they? They never talk about any of the other crimes that Rosi does to make Law happy. Rosi doesn't think to talk about this either—too ready to give Law what he wants and not considering what Law might need. Law doesn't think to talk about it either, not for a long time. Why should he, when he thinks that he and his Cora-san have fallen in love, and are living out the kind of romance that he's only read of before in books?

Things stretch out for a long time; far too long. It's so easy for Rosi to drop to his knees whenever he senses Law wants, and if Law wants to give him pleasure in return, well, sure a guy's going to be curious? And it's not like it hurts Rosi to have Law jerk him off, right? Regular casual sex never hurt anybody.

Only, over time, the dissonance between what Law thinks should happen in a romantic relationship, and what's actually happening between himself and Rosi gets to be too much. Law realizes he doesn't know if Rosinante loves him like a partner, or if he's just got his provider hat on. They end up having a knock down, drag out fight about it.

"But do you love me, or are you in love with me, huh?" Law shouts, voice cracking with how loud he's gotten.

"Does it even matter how I feel when you get your dick sucked regularly either way?" Rosi has never hit Law, not since they escaped Minion Island, but when he snarls at him, Law looks like he's gotten slapped.

Law spins around and vanishes himself in a flash of ROOM, leaving just a pebble behind.

Rosi stares at the thing for a long while as his defensive anger sours into regret. With nothing else to do, he goes for a walk, tearing his hair and smoking like a chimney.

It's taken Law yelling at Rosi for him to realize that this is a very different situation than he'd thought. He has to do some soul searching, which ugh. Fuck. He's got nothing. There isn't any reference in his life for this? He's only ever cared about his parents, Doffy and Sengoku, and none of them have ever needed his care, not the way Law does.

Did.

Law used to need him, but he doesn't anymore. Their relationship truly is more like that of equals now, isn't it?

A stone sinks into the pit of Rosi's stomach as he realizes that part of his concern is that he doesn't know where his place in Law's life is if he's not providing for him. What is there about him that Law will want, if he doesn't need Rosi to give him anything anymore? What is there to stop him from throwing Rosi away?

There's no hiding from this revelation once he's had it. Unfortunately, for all that Rosi wants to stay out in the snow, not facing the consequences of his fight with Law, the sun starts to go down, and the wind picks up. Rosi wants to avoid Law, but he wants to freeze to death even less.

He goes back to the house. When he walks in, he finds Law, red-eyed from crying, but still pissed off enough to glare at him, snapping "Well? Did you figure it out?"

"No. I didn't." Before Law can speak, Rosinante holds a hand out. "Kid—no, sorry, you're not a kid anymore, are you?" He sighs, then scrubs at his face, then says, "Law. Look. I'm not good at this. I'm not smart like you."

Law looks like he's going to protest, because this is a well-worn argument between the two of them, but Rosinante waves his hand again with a half a laugh.

"Sure, I've got a couple skills, but not more than any other brat who grew up on a ship. I'm not … I'm not special. Not like you. You're so good with books, you know? You rip through 'em faster than I can get 'em for you, and then when you talk… Shit, sometimes I don't even understand half the words you're saying, but I know you're using them right."

Rosi's smile falls when he drifts out of recollection to the present time.

"Me, though? I don't read for fun, and I don't do fancy words."

He shoves his hands in his pockets and sighs, slouching into the action, looking lost.

"I don't know what the difference between 'loving you' and 'being in love with you' is. I just... I want to keep you warm when it's cold, get you fed when you're hungry, rock you to sleep when you're cranky. I want to give you everything I can, and if that’s not enough, I want to give you everything I can’t. I'll fight for you, die for you, fucking live for you too if you'll let me. I want to kiss you good morning and good night, and whether that's on the mouth or on the forehead, I don't care, as long as I get to kiss you. I don't know what it is you wanted to hear, but I don't think I'll ever feel this way for anyone else for as long as I live. That's… That's what I feel. That's how I love you."

Rosi's head has dropped low, and he's feeling like a dog that's waiting to be put down. As he trails off into silence, he peeks up at Law through the shag of his bangs, as if afraid that looking at Law directly might be too much for him to handle.

"Is that alright?"

Law has covered his mouth with his hands, but his words still filter out from between his fingers. "You're such an idiot, Cora-san."

"Oof!"

Rosi has to take a step back to avoid being knocked over by the force of Law's embrace.

All the palace’s servants, Ilana had learned, had this uncanny ability, to hide their true thoughts behind whip-thin smiles and politely down-focused eyes, vaguely pointed statements. Nonetheless, Ilana carried-on her interrogation, using tricks of her own to make her voice sound politely curious, that of a happily gossipy noble, no threat.

“No? Well, whose, then? I suppose you didn’t have anything to do with Cardinay’s unfortunate illness, did you?”

The maid swallowed. When she finally spoke, her voice was of a barely noticeably higher pitch than that of her usual docile remarks.

“Milady?” she repeated.

“Please, Elsie.” Ilana said drippily. She flashed her a bright smile, showing her teeth. “I’m just curious. Why did you kill Cardinay?”

The maid’s gray eyes met Ilana’s.

“Because she messed up my little brother,” said Elsie, shaking a bit, her chin tilted up in defiance, eyes narrowed at Ilana as if to dare her to condemn her. She continued:

“Slashed him up with the kitchen knives, broke his arm for breaking a plate. He’s just a kid. So I killed her.”

A fleeting smile passed over her lips. The maid seemed righteously self-satisfied, an expression Ilana had never seen on her before.

“How?” Ilana breathed. She bit her lip, awaiting the answer.

“Poison, how else? You think I could defeat Cardinay in some sort of duel?” Elsie scoffed, reproach evident in her tone of voice. She stood ramrod-straight, a knobbly willow, all knees and elbows and jutting bones under pale skin. And yet, there was a kind of strength about her— cunning, and the mental focus required to kill in cold blood. The maid went on:

“Stirred hemlock into her evening tea. The wench didn’t even notice. Probably too busy contemplating sadistic glee. And now she’s dead, I did it, didn’t I? Take me in to be executed, if you must, just—”

Elsie seemed about to say something else, then switched mid-sentence to a different angle. “— just know that I only kill with good reason.”

“As in, corruption?” Ilana inquired, holding up her cup of tea and staring into its depths. “Is that what happened to Governor Beechwood?”

Silence from the maid.

“Or lasciviousness? Is that what sealed the fate of those boys, mysteriously found dead outside the maids’ chambers?”

“Like I’ve said,” said the maid, “Poison is a weapon of women and cowards. There’s no shame in that. Still, one must only kill with intention, reason, even if it’s as easy as slipping a powder into some fool’s tea.”

“Mm.” Ilana pursed her lips, then parted them, staring down into the cooling tea in the cup in her hand. Resolved, she took a long drink, her cold eyes locked on her maid’s.

—--