Celia

He knew where to go. He and Bepo had marked this island specifically for one item in particular. A good supply of antiseptic was vital to any pirate crew constantly getting maimed and skewered, and as a doctor, it was just common sense to keep it around. Running out wasn’t exactly an end-all, but Law would rather have too much than risk his crew’s health.

The store should be on the next street, right on the corner if his directions were right. Law thought he could see the sign for the drugstore swinging in the midday wind just up ahead, but something shiny caught his eye. His eyes snapped to the right automatically, just slow enough that he didn’t catch it, so he kept on walking without a care in the world.

You, however, were not so fortunate. The ropes binding your wrists burned from how you’d been fighting against them. Your captors just tightened the ropes every time you made progress, making sure the blindfold was still covering your eyes, the cloth tied around your mouth still keeping you quiet. As if it mattered if you were bound, those sick bastards kept tossing water on you every time your scales tried to sink into your skin and reveal two human legs.

And to think all you’d wanted was to try an apple. You’d only parted from your guard for a moment, and boom. Kidnapped. Your father was right. Men were dicks.

The gag choked your words, but not the feral growls you released from the pit of your chest, and despite the blindfold you could feel the way the wagon they carted you in rattled across the cobblestone ground. If anyone looked close enough they might’ve seen the end of your shiny scales peeking out from underneath the sackcloth, just like the doctor nearly had, his eyes catching the pearly gleam before he tripped on a loose cobblestone and the cart rolled out of sight.

The fear was starting to close in.

A kick to your side shut you up momentarily. A sharp, ugly voice hissed down at you, “Pipe down, fishy.”

If anything your snarl deepened. You waited for another blow, but all you received was a humorous scoff, like he thought you were funny. Anger coiled tightly round your heart and crawled its way into your head. If only you could get free… they would learn why mermaids grew to have fangs.

The cart came to a stop, the chatter of the market softer, further away now. Your heart pounded in your chest as your captors shuffled around, removing the sackcloth in a swoop. Your skin crawled as their hands closed in on you, picking you up like a sack of potatoes, tossing you over a boney shoulder that dug into your side.

You managed to force the gag over your lips and slide it over your chin, yet right as you prepared to scream, your brother’s voice came to you. As fascinated as you are, humans are fascinated by you dangerously more. You had thought him foolish, that he was intimidated. Now you saw he was right. There must be good humans out there, there were too many odds to say they didn’t exist… but you couldn’t risk that. Not now.

So you sank your teeth into the man’s shoulder as deep as they could go, as hard as you could bite. He nearly threw you to the ground, shouting a curse you didn’t understand, but then his grip tightened as something hard hit the back of your head.

“Shit,” the voice snarled. “The money better be worth it.”

“It will,” said another. “Mer-mies ‘re rare. Folks pay a pretty penny for ‘em.”

The way they talked, the way they handled you like a commodity. It sickened you. 

“You’re animals,” you hissed, soft yet sharp enough to be caught. The two men closest burst into an insulting amount of laughter. A hand patted your back. They didn’t dignify you with a response. 

The sound of a door opening. Voices you didn’t care to decipher from one another. The door shutting, locking. Every sound blended together now, your brain exhausted, your body close to giving up. Perhaps your family would be free of the worry you caused them now, worry you now knew was not in vain. 

You winced as your scales retreated into your skin, the transformation protecting your tail from drying out. The painful separation into two human legs went unhindered. Maybe your captors didn’t care to keep you lame anymore—maybe they could tell you’d given up.

The room was silent save for the deep mouth-breathing of the maybe four men who had brought you there. Another presence made himself known with a slow breath in and a heavy exhale, the scent of smoke soon curling up your nostrils. Footsteps drew closer until a coarse hand gripped your chin, tilting your head left and right, pulling down your lip to glimpse your fangs. You jerked to bite him, but all he did was whip away and laugh.

“Tempestuous,” he mused softly. “Like the sea. Never thought I’d see one in person. You normally stick to the depths.”

It took you too long to realize he’d spoken to you, your eyes widening behind the blindfold. You seized the chance to converse after so many hours of neglect, recalling something a sailor once said to his superior in a fury. “Fuck you.”

Chuckles erupted all around the room, your face burning in embarrassment despite the fire in your gut.

“Get ‘er some clothes,” the man, assumedly the leader, snapped. “We shouldn’t leave a lady in undress.”

The blindfold slid down your face when a shirt was pulled over your head, your untied hands shoved through the sleeves, a pair of trousers then tightened round your waist. You blinked fast, the light casting a dark film over your sight as your eyes adjusted. The room was long but thin, probably squeezed into a row of shops. The floor was dusted with sand and dirt, the tables littered with crates and boxes of assorted goods. 

Pretty crystals, shiny goblets, jars of scales you’d rather not think about too deeply. All of this and more took up most of the room, but peculiarly, one table housed rows of vials containing various liquids. Syringes sat crystal-clean beside them, swabs and bandages too. Your line of sight was blocked suddenly by a man more lanky than the rest, his proportions less balanced than most humans you’d seen. His eyes seemed too small for his face.

His face twisted into a sneer. “Shut up!” 

Oops. Had you said that out loud? He scoffed and shoved you down onto a crate near the back of the room where they could watch you carefully. “Just sit there an’ look pretty, eh?”

You rolled your eyes as far as they could go, looking anywhere but his growing smirk. Running your mouth would only get you so far. You wouldn’t last long surrounded by these traders, your fate uncertain. A thought tugged at your brain, luring you closer to a resolve the more it festered. 

You could always sing. The least they could do was kill you. The most you could do was kill them. Worst case… You huffed. You were already there. Yet, you’d never done anything of that sort before. Your mother hadn’t really taught you how to lure men to their deaths. She was one of those forward-thinkers who called it a dead practice. Your clan was pretty much the same. You could start singing and nothing would happen and they’d all laugh in your face. 

The bell at the front of the shop jingled pleasantly. Every man stiffened instantly, their eyes darting to their leader. He was the picture of confidence as he smoothed out his jacket and shot his right hand man a grin. “He must be early. Make sure our guest stays put.”

He? Your heart quickened as the man disappeared into the front room. Casting the remaining men a scathing glance, you decided that any consequence was better than doing nothing. 

So you took a deep breath.

જ ⁀ ➴

Law shoved the door open and stepped out of the sun quickly, shifting his leopard print hat to relieve the sweat building on his neck. His eyes adjusted to the room slowly. The shop was humble, dimly lit by three lanterns just enough to illuminate the counter and the shelves lining every wall. Humble and dirty too. 

He examined a row of bottles, all unlabeled, all similar in pale color. How exactly did these people organize? Law picked one up and swirled it around, squinting to try to identify it. He knew this shop had it. Bepo had called to make sure. He sighed and set the bottle back. This meant one thing: he would have to talk to the clerk.

A man clad in clothes screaming faux-wealth swiftly came to greet him, his face shining as he set his hands on the wooden countertop. 

“Greetings,” he simpered. “How was your arrival?”

His brow rose just slightly. “Fine. Listen, I called on the den-den earlier. I’m here for—”

“No need to, uh, mention the product, sir.” The man nodded to himself, folding his arms. “I run a tight ship here and tight lips are my sails.”  He leaned in conspiratorially with a sly grin. “But I’m sure you do as well, Mr. Calloway.”

Law blinked slowly and came to a decision. This idiot was obviously doing some shady shit, and he thought Law was yet another idiot. He could scoff and ask for what he needed, pay, then get the hell out.

Or… he could be curious.

“I do,” Law grunted. “Do me a favor, though. Don’t interrupt me again.”

The man in front of him buffered, his shoulders falling as if he was trying to look smaller in the face of Law’s intimidating stature. The surgeon’s ego only increased a little bit.

“S–Sorry, sir. ‘Was only trying to joke,” his laugh faded quickly, his smile strained. “I was rather stressed until now. My men were cutting it close with the transport from our barge. But! They came through, as always.”

He spoke with the air of a man who knew what he was doing, however much of a rat he smelled like. Whatever product this was, he knew the gravity of his business. Law nodded stiffly and cast another look around the room. “Hmm. Throw in some antiseptic while you’re at it. Some of my group got injured on the journey. Wanna stay prepared.”

The “clerk” didn’t even question it, his face lighting up. He scurried from behind the counter to grab three bottles from the highest shelf, returning with a giddy smile. “I completely understand. On the house.”

Law accepted bottles a bit too greedily, a grin sliding up his face. “I couldn’t.”

“You’ve lined my pockets enough, Mr. Calloway,” the man laughed. “Why don’t we just step into the back? The boys—”

The sudden sound of a crash followed by a booming voice shouting expletives did nothing but spike Law’s concern. The man at his side scoffed beneath his breath and started forward with an exasperated,  “What now…”

Law had what he needed. He had a perfect out. No need to dirty his hands. No need to get into unnecessary fights. Nicely wrapped up. He was halfway out the door when he heard another voice—sharper, wounded.

His feet moved before his head, carrying him forcefully into the back of the shop, the curtain dividing the two rooms swept out of his way. A figure lay collapsed on the ground, hands braced on the dirt floor, their eyes wild, fierce, afraid. 

You shot up onto your knees, teeth bared in something like a hiss, fingernails clawing at the dirt. A man gripped the back of your head and pulled at your hair, ignoring how you jerked away like you didn’t care about the sting on your scalp.

“You stupid fish!” He laughed in your face, shooting his boss a look of hilarity. “She tried singin’, charmin’ us.” With a shove you were back on your side. “Useless wench couldn’t even pull it off. Just a small tingle in the head. Ha!”

Fire lit in your chest, you lunged out, legs propelling you upward. Your hands gripped the man’s neck sharply, dragging him down, your nails breaking skin as your teeth sank down on his shoulder. He yowled underneath you, kicking your chest and flipping you over his head. Back hitting the ground, you heaved for air, just about to lick the blood from your fangs when another man reeled back to drive his boot into your chest. You didn’t have a chance to think before you were enveloped in warm light.

“Room.”

And suddenly, you’re safe, you think. 

The broad back of yet another stranger loomed in front of you, his hand outstretched powerfully. A sword rested on his hip. A dark scowl contorted his face. All you could do was stare at what you could see of his profile, how his jaw set perfectly, his hair peeking out from under a silly hat…

He was the type of human you’d dreamed of. Beautiful, strong-willed, a wall between you and danger. Unlike these kidnappers in every sense.

“M–Mr. Calloway!” The leader-man floundered for words. “What is the meaning—”

“Your operation’s being shut down,” the funny-hat man said, his voice a low timber that made your pupils soften. “And the name’s Trafalgar. You never really asked, did you?”

If possible, the man’s face paled even more. “You—Trafalgar D. Law?! T–The pirate?”

This Law scoffed in reply. “Don’t be a broken record.” His hand settled on the hilt of his sword almost imperceptibly, his chin tilted toward you. He barely glanced at you when he murmured, “Get out of here.”

Why, it was the only thing you could think. This glowing angel of a man who came out of nowhere and stood with such power… It was a chance. A very lucky chance.

And damn you if you refused to take it.

You backed away tentatively at first, as if you didn’t trust him to actually let you go. Your eyes found the leader suddenly, his face gaining back its color in a horrible angry pink. 

“What is this?!” he shouted, his hand inching toward his pistol. “You can’t—Do you have any idea how much I have riding on her?! How much she’s worth? How much money—”

The last thing you saw and heard was the shing of your hero’s sword coming out of its sheath, the sick smirk on his face, and his voice clear as day, “Sorry. I don’t really care.”

You turned tail before you could catch the aftermath. Your hands came up over your head as a gunshot rang out. You burst through the doors and bolted out onto the street, narrowly missing a mule pulling a wagon as you scrambled away as fast as you could go.

Your brother, you think. You had to find him. He would know what to do. He promised he would always find you, no matter how stupidly lost you got yourself. Surely that hadn’t changed in the two weeks you’d gone missing. Surely he would have gone after you. It was only a matter of how you made yourself easy to find.

Although… the longer you searched the streets… and the further into the bay you swam… you realized more and more that you’d been taken much farther than you thought. You were so far that the dolphins had a different dialect. You could barely understand them when they croaked out the name of the island.

Only then did the panic truly set in. The only thing that quelled the rising fear was the sight of a silly looking hat passing by the barrels you took to hiding behind—a silly hat attached to a silly man carrying a bottle and a smug grin.

જ ⁀ ➴

Law was being followed. 

Whoever was dumb enough to trail him was good; he gave them that. The signs were almost imperceptible—almost. Maybe it was a straggler from the shop. Whoever it was, he was ready to be rid of them.

He made a turn into a deep alley wall between two shops, just a few feet short of the docks, went around another corner in the maze of back roads, and waited. The patter of soft footsteps met his ears, his jaw tightening. The moment the person stepped around the next corner his sword was at their throat, only close enough to scare them. And scare them he did.

A shrill scream made him lose focus, his head whipping to the side just as a young woman stumbled backward, comically so, and landed on her back in the dust. Law, for all his confidence, faltered instantly. 

“Don’t kill me!” she pleaded, eyes wide, hand held up defensively, and God, if that didn’t make Law feel like a dick. 

His sword hung limply at his side now, his lips curled downward as he stared down at her strangely. It was the same woman from the shop, the one being sold like a common piece of goods. She wore only oversized clothing, men’s trousers and a thick tunic. Despite her fear the shine in her eyes lured his mind into a state of ease so gently he nearly allowed it. His eyes narrowed just slightly, blinking away the momentary hold as his guard shot right back up.

He scoffed and sheathed his sword. “Why would I kill you?”

You swallowed thickly, eyes like saucers, before you gritted your teeth. “You—your sword!” You shoved yourself off the ground. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t have cut me down if I was like those traders!”

Law could only avoid your glare as he rolled his shoulders, working at a crick in his neck. “Lucky you that I thought twice, then, right?”

The way your cheeks puffed, your eyes flaring up with frustration, it was almost cute—not that Law would ever think like that. He shoved down his innermost thoughts and faced you solidly just as you prepared your rebuttal. “Why were you following me?”

It was your turn to look away, eyes scanning the sky. “Well… I—I just thought…” Suddenly, all that fire was fading, sizzling into something so unsure. “I’m far from where they took me. I thought that since you helped me once, you might help me again.”

For the longest time, he said nothing, just stared at you like he was questioning his life choices. Really, he should start walking right then and there, be done with you like he should have been done earlier. “Help you how?”

You grasped at his wavering resolve with a vice, barely hiding the wicked grin sliding up your face. “Get me home.”

Instantly, he was halfway turned toward the alley entrance. “I’m not in that kind of business.”

“You’re a pirate, aren’t you?” You scrambled to stand in front of him again, hands splayed as if you could keep him there with your sheer will. “Pirates like money. I can get you money. When I’ve returned home. My family will pay you.”

Law crossed his arms firmly over his chest. His eyes remained locked with yours. “Just ask for passage on a shipping freight.”

Your jaw slackened at the mere suggestion. “And risk winding up right back where I started? I think not.” You shivered involuntarily, eyes unfocused, thinking of the blindfold and gag and rope. “Man is bad. I can’t trust them.”

You couldn’t decipher the look on Law’s face, his lips gently ticked upwards, thoughts hidden behind golden eyes. “I’m a man,” he mused.

You’re different. Again, you found yourself admiring his skin, the way he was built, how his legs held up his strong torso. Trafalgar Law was different from the other humans. Other humans were somewhat easy to read the more you observed them, their body language giving away too much; but this man was difficult. You wanted to tear him apart and discover everything that made him tick, all that made him the way he was and—you blinked fast, realizing you needed to answer him.

“But you killed them, didn’t you?” you asked, head tilted, gaze alluring. “I can smell their blood on you. They hurt me, and you killed them. That makes you good.”

Something in his face gave way; a bit of disbelief mixed with hilarity revealed itself. “That all it takes?”

“In my book, yes.” You could get him. You knew it. He might be hard to read, but he was still a man. “I mean it, about the payment. I think once I get to sea I can navigate the way, I just need someone I can trust. I won’t cause trouble. You’ll hardly know I’m there.”

He sighed like he was annoyed, eyes raised to the sky. You continued before he could say anything. “Please… Law, right?” His gaze flickered down at the sound of his name falling from your lips. You met him with a soft smile. “Law, I really wouldn’t insist if I had another choice.”

You think he cursed as he ran a hand over his face. Just a bit more…  

“Answer me this. Why were they selling you?” Law settled you with a cold look, wiping the satisfied shine from your face. 

He didn’t know? A subtle chill settled over you. You thought for sure he would have figured it out, but maybe it hadn’t been obvious. What damned luck. You mulled it over, choosing your words carefully. 

“If I tell you, you might understand them and take me hostage.” You shrugged. “So I won’t tell you.”

Law made a stifled sound, watching you turn your face. Perhaps you were dangerous, or maybe just stupid. Or perhaps you already knew what he just was realizing: he was going to say yes.

“You're making it hard to trust you,” he sighed. You beamed. 

“Well, then I think I can trust enough for both of us.” You inched closer to him with that damned grin. “Please… Captain, right?”

He let out the slightest scoff, eyes searching the distance for a miraculous way out. “All right.”

An unflattering sound escaped your lips. “Really?” 

Whatever he was going to say next was swiftly caught in his throat when you lunged at him, arms wrapped around him in a hold a bit stronger than he expected. His heart jumped a little, skin crawling just enough to make him shiver, but you had his arms pinned to his sides and damn, you had some muscle on you.

“Don’t—! Okay, first rule.” He wriggled out of your arms, holding you at a safe distance, all while you just beamed at him. “No hugging. No touching.” He pinched his brow briefly. “Don’t bother me unless you’re actively dying, actually.”

You restrained your smile as much as you could, nodding firmly. “Okay. Aye-aye. I can do that.”

Law already regretted this deeply, muttering a few brief words you didn’t catch as he led the way out of the alley and through the streets. You hovered at his side, walking in step with him, your eyes scanning the people warily. Your excitement was gone in a flash, replaced by a whiplash seriousness that had Law curious. 

The crew was surprised when they spotted Law approaching with a strange woman at his side. Bepo had been on the verge of going out to look for him when he didn’t come back to the submarine at the agreed-upon time, so when he saw his captain he jumped off the surfaced sub and ran at him, barely acknowledging you.

You gasped the moment you spotted the large white bear, and something snapped within your chest. Your pupils narrowed into thin slits, your mouth widened to bare your glinting fangs, hands flexing. You moved in front of Law swiftly and let out a hissing sound, about to take another step forward when a strong hand landed on your shoulder.

Law had this uncomfortable look on his face when you whipped around, pupils dilated, looking as innocent as a puppy. Bepo froze where he stood, blinking fast. 

“Uh,” he said, flinching when your dark gaze darted back to him. “Captain. Did you… have trouble?”

“Captain?” Instantly, your whole posture changed. The tension in your shoulders faded and an almost pleasant look took your face. You shook Law’s hand off and slowly walked up to Bepo, completely at ease. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were a friend.”

Bepo sent Law a puzzled glance. “Uhm, it’s all right.”

You circled him curiously, close but never touching, scrutinizing the bear as his eyes followed you all the way around. “What are you? You’re not human, are you?”

Blinking, Bepo almost chuckled. He waited till you stood in front of him again and replied simply, “I’m a mink.”

“Mink,” you whispered, rolling the word over your tongue. Seemingly satisfied, you stepped aside and turned your gaze to Law. 

Law thought back to Bepo’s question and sighed heavily, simply looking at you with a twinge of regret. “You could call it trouble.”

You were… strange. He would leave it at that. Whatever you were, Law could feel the danger reverberating off your skin. Honestly, the fangs were the least suspicious thing about you. 

“That woman,” Law said to you. He pointed to where Ikkaku stood watching atop the Polar Tang. “Tell her to get you a boiler suit and a bed.”

You followed his line of sight, your eyes shining at the sight of a human woman. You’d only seen them at a distance, sitting on seaside decks with fancy dresses and parasols. But this woman didn’t have anything fancy like that. Without another word you were racing toward the submarine, thoughts racing at a mile a minute, a list of questions to berate the poor Ikkaku with already at the tip of your tongue. 

“So,” Bepo mulled. “Who’s that?”

And Law realized, stupidly, he had never even asked your name. He pondered his sanity; Law had just allowed this strange woman onto his ship without ever asking her name, let alone who she was. Law sighed heavily for the nth time that hour. “Nothing but trouble, most likely.”

This is what he gets for playing the hero.

જ ⁀ ➴

It’d been five days since you took up residence on the Polar Tang, and no one on that crew had any clue what to make of you.

You took your agreement to Law pretty seriously, barely saying a word to him when he was around, though he saw the towering wave of questions begging to be asked behind your eyes. It was only a matter of time before that wave came crashing down on top of him. 

“She’s…” Ikkaku was saying to her captain one morning over a cup of coffee. “Different.”

It was the kinder way to put it. Ikkaku had shared her room with you, giving you half of her sizable bed and lending you some of her clothes. You were fascinated by her closet, taking her offer of “feel free” very seriously. Next thing she knew you were trying to get a pair of pants over your head, letting her know her shirt was missing a neck hole.

Law had nodded gently and taken a sip of his coffee right before you waltzed into the kitchen on Bepo’s tail. The polar bear looked at ease with your presence, even offering you some of the toast he prepared and making you your own cup of coffee. 

You sniffed it once before tipping it carefully and sticking your tongue down to lap at it. The moment it hit your tongue you jerked back sharply, spilling a bit of the liquid on the counter as you gagged exaggeratedly. Bepo floundered around you, needlessly apologizing and patting your back softly.

“What is that?” you shrieked.

Ikkaku and Law shared a blank look. “Coffee.”

“I. Don’t. Like.” You punctuated every word with a disgusted smack of your lips. 

Different was surely the way to put it. 

Different—but kind. Funny, even. The crew was realizing the latter fact the more time they spent with you. 

Shachi and Penguin told Law so when he came to them wondering about their guest. They weren’t even a little shy about admitting their game of flirting with you, and not even a bit ashamed at the fact that you flat out rejected them. 

“You’re a bit too excited to have been turned down,” Law mused.

Penguin shrugged a shoulder. “Well, yeah, that part wasn’t funny, but—”

“She didn’t even realize we were hitting on her,” Shachi cut in with a laugh. “She just gave us this weird look whenever we shot her a line, and she bit Penguin when he put his arm on her shoulder!”

Penguin showed the deep puncture marks on his forearm off like a badge of honor. “Ikkaku told her we were just messing with her and she switched up like that.”

Law let the wryest of grins slip. 

At least you hadn’t been lying when you said you could navigate once at sea. The first time Law had spoken to you since you joined them was the morning of the fifth day, when the sub had surfaced and he found you on the deck with a map. 

“I think I know which direction my home is,” you announced when he was a few feet away, never lifting your gaze from the sea. “I’d know for sure if I could see under the waves.”

“Under the waves?”

You nodded. No elaboration. Law was learning quick that you rarely explained the things you said, as if he was odd for not immediately understanding. 

“I was able to find stars I recognized last night,” you said. “Important stars. The Moon Tears point North, and they’re always directly above my home.”

Again, Law fell behind. He came up beside you to see exactly what markings you were making on the map. “Moon Tears?”

“It’s a constellation important to my people.” You pointed out one of your drawings—six dots pointing Northward. 

Your people. You’d been using that phrase often. Everything you said gave Law more information about what exactly you were, yet it all left him infinitely more confused in the end. Despite his longing, he didn’t press for answers. He couldn’t bear to let on how deeply you interested him. 

“We have windows,” he said at last, dragging his eyes away from your profile. “Below. You could see a bit of the ocean floor, but not much.”

“That’s perfect!” You beamed up at him, a habit of yours, and snatched up the map to rush below deck. Law forced himself into stillness, not daring to watch you go. 

Evening came fast, falling over the submarine as everyone followed their usual routines. Around that time of day Law would sit in his office mulling over a book or something of the like, unbothered and at peace.

Unfortunately, this particular evening there was a strange woman peeking in through the door. 

For the longest moment you only stared at him, lips tilted into a grin, your eyes trained on his every slight movement. Only when he raised a brow did you hurry inside and shut the door behind you. You held a mug dangerously closer to spillage. 

“Thought you didn’t like coffee,” he muttered.

You seemed to have forgotten the drink entirely, wide eyes darting before. Your face lit up all at once and you promptly set the mug down on his desk and slid it toward him. “It’s not mine. Ikkaku said you like this stuff.”

Law, struck dumb by the simple action, could only nod. He searched for words desperately as you turned to take in your surroundings. “Is that all?”

“Well,” you sighed. “It could be. I was hoping I could speak to you, though.”

“About?”

You shot him a scant smile, eyes sparkling, and picked up a book from his shelf. “Yourself. I’ve learned about everyone else, and I know I said I wouldn’t bother you, but Shachi and Penguin said if I brought a peace offering you’d be less grouchy.”

Law’s cheeks tinged pink. “They said that? Grouchy?”

With your back turned he couldn’t see just how the mischief showed on your face. “That’s the word they used.”

You finished your assessment of the office and came to plop yourself down in a chair. “So, can I?”

He blinked. “Can you…?”

“Ask you questions?” 

He could have rolled his eyes. Law glanced down at the mug, reaching out to bring it toward himself. The brew’s aroma wafted up, calming his annoyance bit by bit. He had the cup halfway to his lips when he caught you giving him a grin that just screamed gotcha. Ensnared, he shrugged a careless shoulder. 

“What do you want to know?”

You hugged a knee to your chest, chin rested there. Your eyes gleamed, and Law imagined just what kind of danger that gaze held. “How did you do the—the thing! When you, y’know, moved me!”

“Moved you?”

Frustration bubbled under your skin, words failing you, your hands waving as if that would make him understand. “Yeah. The guy was gonna kick me—” you pointed at his chest “—then you did something and I was behind you.”

“Oh.” Law raked a hand through his hair and sipped his coffee. “It’s my devil fruit’s ability.”

“Devil fruit?”

He paused at that. What rock had you been hiding under to not know what a devil fruit was? You weren’t stupid, and certainly not naive, like he first thought you were. It was why he couldn't wait to get you home so he could finally decide what to make of you, once and for all.

Law wouldn’t dwell on the enigma of you for too long. He couldn't. His life didn’t allow for more than a moment of respite most days, and Law knew well he had no time for pondering beautiful women. His cheeks flushed at the very thought, clearing his throat and escaping the moment by retrieving a book from the shelf. 

He opened it in between you, searching the pages as you leapt from your seat to lean over the book with him. He stopped on a page of elaborate drawings, finger drifting over a few of them. “These are devil fruits.”

Mystified, you craned your neck and squinted, hand pressing down on one in particular. It was his fruit, he realized. Your face lit up in recognition. "Oh! I do know about these. My father calls them the Bane of the Sea." Pausing, you tilted your head at him. “You have one?”

“I ate it,” he corrected, moving your hand to point at it instead. “That one. It’s the Op-Op Fruit.”

“You ate it?” You recoiled in disgust. “It doesn’t look good.” 

“I… well, I…” He stared down at the drawing, memories fighting to the surface. “You’re right. It wasn’t good.”

Maybe a minute passed by and Law couldn’t shake the darkness that took over, staring off into nothing. The silence only broke when something poked at his forehead and he gasped, his eyes blinking fast. His gaze focused on you, your finger pressed to his head, gaze wide with concern. 

“You disappeared," was your whisper. 

He was swatting you away before he realized it, walls rising up with the intense purpose of keeping you out of his head. “It gave me my abilities,” he went on, “and now I’m a devil fruit eater. I can do great things, but the sea has turned its back on me. That’s what the fruit does.”

“The sea turned its back on you?”

Law huffed. “I can’t swim. Seawater makes me immobile.”

Instantly you gasped, hand resting over your heart. “I can’t imagine that.” Thoughtful, you looked down at your hands, wiggling your fingers. “The sea is my life, but it's your death.”

He stood taking in the mystery of you, how you always walked like you were out of practice, how you asked questions about the most simple things, how he often caught you gazing at the ocean with such great longing. “You still haven’t told me… anything. I know nothing about you or why you were captured.”

Grinning, “Forgive my prudence.”

“You—” Law took a breath to calm himself. “The sea is your life. What does that mean?”

For a good long moment, you did consider telling him. It’d been a few days and neither he nor his crew had done anything to harm you. It was only five days, but you knew you could trust them. But you pictured the look on Law’s face. What if he threw you out? Decided that dealing with a mermaid wasn’t worth the reward? And really, you barely knew him. Who knows just what he would do. 

You averted your gaze and took up fiddling with the book again. “So, you can do magic?”

“It’s not magic,” he tried to say, too flustered by the insult to bother with his ignored question.

“If you say so. Show me.”

So he did, transporting item after item from here to there, all to watch your face light up and your voice raise in excitement. And when you finally departed, Law was left to wonder. He made his way to the galley for dinner some hours later, somehow still wondering, and stopped at the sight of you. 

You laughed arm in arm with Ikkaku, rolling your eyes at Shachi, stealing food from Jean Bart. A picture of normalcy aboard the Polar Tang, broken only by your fangs digging into a piece of chicken with ferocity he’d only seen in Strawhat Luffy. Nobody felt the need to understand you, no one pestered you about your past. Sure, you’re an odd kind of person, and maybe at the end of the day, Law could live with that. 

Things moved slowly after that. An understanding met. The secrets and half-truths were still there, looming over the ship, yet no one feared the moment they would fall. 

Days bled together, laughter echoed down the halls. Your shriek as you touched a hot stove again. Law’s voice as he chastised you, his jaw set while he treated the burn, ignoring how the crew whispered about how tender he’d been lately. 

You weren’t any less strange than the day you first joined them. If anything, everything about you grew more and more odd. Yet the crew could care less if you said confusing things sometimes, if their questions about where you came from only grew every time you opened your mouth.  

Not to mention, your fanged smile, flashing with unbridled joy, was proof enough that you weren’t exactly normal. 

“Tell me about your home,” he said one night. The crew had gone to bed, leaving the pair of you in the galley to clean up while the others got much needed rest. Law had his back to you, in the middle of washing dishes.

You shifted at the table. “What about it?”

“Anything.” He cast a look over his shoulder. “Your family?”

“They… they’re something,” you chuckled. “My father and mother are very strict. They never let my brother and I go very far from home. Even learning about the outside world was toeing the line.”

He paused whatever he was working on to watch you, eyes narrowing at the faraway look in your eyes. “Sounds difficult.”

You fumbled with your fingers. “Sort of. My parents only wanted to keep us safe, and now I see why. The first time I left home, I got kidnapped.” You couldn’t bear to look at him, not when you said, “I think maybe they were right. They always said I'm just… too fragile.”

Your eyes squeezed shut, memories of home haunting you, shame washing over you, before Law laughed. Full, hearty laughter poured from his chest and your eyes popped open, mouth agape. He dissolved into soft chuckles now, his gaze warm, yet you still bared your fangs at him. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” he said, sobered up quickly. “Just—I think you’re anything but fragile.” Law focused on the table, how the paper feels as he runs his hand over it. 

Before you could dwell too much on any of that, heart swelling, you huffed. “Tell my father that. He’ll likely lock me away forever now.”

Law scoffed. “Why let him?”

Your eyes held such sorrow when you looked at him, shaking your head. “You don’t understand. It’s not that simple.”

“Help me understand, then.” At your silence, Law leaned forward. “Everything in this world is dangerous. Might as well take the risk.” Law tilted his head, and it was hard not to feel small under his sharp gaze. “Why don’t you live for yourself?”

He watched as you curled in on yourself, gaze downcast, shoulders slumped. Law’s guard had never truly lowered around you, not when you were still so basked in mystery, so unwilling to tell him what led to you being captured. 

Again, you dismissed him, “You couldn’t understand.”

Distrust slipped off your tongue so easily, and Law supposed he shouldn’t have expected any different. At the end of the day, you weren’t his friend. You weren’t one of his crew. You were simply a client. He got up and left you in his office before he could say something he might regret.

The days turned to weeks, and at some point, you grew quiet.  

“I think we’re three days out,” you told him, the first words you’ve said to him in days. And then you turned away, off to somewhere deeper in the submarine, leaving Law with his hand raised from where he was about to touch your shoulder. 

When you made it to your ancestral reef, everyone would know. You were a mermaid playing pretend on a pirate ship. You were a princess. How pathetic. All of this would be over in a blink, and you should be happy, so why did your chest feel so hollow?

Biting your nails to the quick, you thought about how your new friends would react. How upset would they be to finally know the truth? More pressingly, how much would Law hate you? It was all you could think, the image of his glare possessing you entirely. Perhaps you could endure the wrath of the others, but Law? You don’t think you would make it.

“She’s acting weird,” Penguin mumbled to Ikkaku one morning, two days left on your journey. The whole crew had been thinking it; it was like you walked around with a thundercloud overhead, sighing deeply and moping around. 

“We are almost there,” she pondered. “Shouldn’t she be… I dunno, happy?”

“I would be,” Shachi piped up. “If she has the money to pay us, I’d imagine she’s got a cushy place.”

“Shachi.”

“What? Just saying.”

Bepo wedged himself between them, huffing through his nose. “Isn’t it obvious? She’s gonna miss us.”

And the truth no one was willing to voice… was that they would miss you too. In your absence, the ship would lose a bit of the carefree life they’d all grown used to. 

Ikkaku grinned suddenly, hitting her palm with her fist. “Let’s have a party.”

જ ⁀ ➴

“I’m coming!” you shouted, haphazardly rushing through the halls, huffing at Penguin incessant calling of your name. “What’s the—” your words melted on your tongue when you ran out the open doors “—matter…”

You barely recognized the small deck of the Polar Tang. Small lights were strung up all around, a little table littered with various foods and candles sat in a corner, and music played from somewhere unseen. You spun around to take it all in, brows in a deep furrow. 

“Surprise!” Penguin laughed. He hooked his arm around your shoulders and led you toward the rest of the crew, gathered together with a variety of different smiles. 

“What is this?”

Shachi burst forth and came to your other side. “A party!”

Eyes wide, you scanned the lot of them. “For me?”

“Who else?” Ikkaku grinned. “You’re gonna leave us soon. We wanted to end the trip with a bang.”

As if you needed reminding. Soon, you’d have to face your family, and likely your entire kingdom, and deliver those words grating against the back of your mind: you were right. You didn’t belong in this world. You could never belong with them, these wonderful pirates who made you feel like life was worth the living again. 

This lovely dream was ending soon.

Only when Penguin shook you did you notice the tears dotting your waterline. You quickly wiped them away and slapped on a watery smile. “Thank you. I just… I suppose I’ll miss this.”

Freedom, you thought. You’d miss the thrill of an unbridled existence. 

Jean Bart broke what could've been an awkward pause with, “Enough with the saps! Let’s dance!”

You were dragged every which way, laughing with each crew member as they made you promise to be well, to remember them, to maybe even reach out one day. You nodded along to every vow, but in your mind’s eye was your father’s glare as he locked the city gates on you forevermore. You would never see them again, and you’d never reach out like you were promising wholeheartedly to do.

You turned out to be a dreadful dancer on your two legs. Every step threatened to send you to the ground, your muscles too tense to even pretend this was fun. 

Somehow your legs became crossed right as you stepped forward, and you nearly crashed to the deck before a steady hand caught you around your middle. You righted yourself quickly and whipped around, finding Law very much in your space. 

The captain had been avoiding you, you think. Every time you caught sight of his silly hat he would disappear the next moment. It was maybe fair, given you’d evaded him ever since your tense conversation in his office, but you just couldn’t bear his questions. 

You couldn’t discern his expression, all his features stern and cold like they had been the day you’d met. The day he rescued you. You wondered if he regretted meeting you, like you regretted meeting him. 

In the depths of your heart, you would rather have never known a good thing than to have loved it and lost it. 

Law’s hand still lingered at your side. You scanned your eyes all down his face. Without a word, he walked toward the edge of the deck, and you followed him until the pair of you stood side by side at the guard rail. The salt air dusted your cheeks as the waves crashed against the hull of the submarine, rocking it gently. The night was truly beautiful, full of friendship and care, but suddenly you felt sick to your stomach. 

His shoulder brushed yours and that was all it took for all the emotion to come tumbling out of your chest. Your hand closed around Law’s wrist before you could stop yourself. 

You hardly knew him. You loved him. You had spent countless nights at his side in his study, in his office, in the kitchen—the whole ship was touched by soft moments where you had smiled brighter than you had in your whole life. You remembered Law’s face when you teased his hat, and his gasp when you touched his hair. How he had caught your hand and practically frozen time with those eyes of his. His soft efforts tore down your walls and you dared to think that maybe the rumble took down his too in the process.

Upon first seeing him, Law had been the human of your dreams. And though he was beautiful and strong and, despite his edges, kind, you’d discovered most of your dreams had been silly. Law could never rescue you, not truly. Real, true stories never actually ended that way. Now, you had a new dream, one where you got to live. 

You couldn’t say all of that, of course. 

So you released him, eyes locked on the sea. The air smelled like it did at the reef. You were so close to being home. This was for the best. You had never belonged here.

It wasn’t like Law could ever reciprocate.

“You’ll keep in touch?” he said, barely heard over the waves.

You whipped your head around to stare at him. He was getting good at reading you, you realized, as he continued, “I’ll give you our den-den number.”

Hope rose and fell like the tides. “We don’t have a den-den.”

Law’s lips pursed, eyes averting. He cleared his throat, and you hated to wonder what he was thinking. “Right. Why would you? You didn’t even know what they were till a week ago.”

A grin tugged at your lips. “It’s a nice thought, though. I’d like to talk to you again.”

His hand found yours this time as the cheers of your friends grew louder with every drink Penguin downed. His skin wrapped around yours until he nearly ripped it away. You caught his eye as your fingers laced with his, locking him in place.

“You’re the strangest woman I’ve ever met,” he confessed. Law looked anywhere but you, deciding to stare up at the moon when he went on, unprompted, the words slipping out like he couldn’t help it, “You don’t have to pay me.”

It was too much for your heart to take. His hand in yours, the words on his lips. 

“You could just admit you like me,” you teased, cheeks warm. 

Law rounded on you with wide eyes, somehow forgetting he was holding your hand as he snapped back, “I don’t.”

But you had him right where you wanted him, pressing on and stepping closer to his side. “Not even a little bit?”

You expected another retort, perhaps something snappy and dripping with sarcasm, not ready for his eyes to drop to your lips, something heady in his gaze. 

“Maybe,” he said at last. 

You’d never see him again. It was the truth echoing in your mind even as you leaned in closer, noses brushing, sharing his breath. You loved him. And you would never see Law again. 

“Law,” you breathed. You waited till he looked away from your lips and met your intent gaze. “I should tell you… I’m… the reason I was captured—”

A giant wave hit the side of the submarine and sent it tilting violently. Decorations and food slid off the deck and into the sea, cries of alarm leaving the crew as they grabbed onto anything they could to keep from disappearing beneath the dark waters. 

Law grabbed your bicep in one hand and clung to the guard rail before you could slip, his arms shaking slightly. You hadn’t realized you’d frozen in place, a deadweight for him to hold onto, but your eyes had locked on the sky. 

The moon was quickly enveloped in a dark cloud closing in from all sides, a cloud full of torrential rain and powered by harsh winds. The sky had been so clear, so perfect only moments before. So as the ship careened back to its right position only to be hit on the other side by another wave, you knew. 

The next hit wasn’t as strong and the ship remained steady, but it only allowed you to hear it: the ringing in your ears grew steadily until the song was clear as day. You threw your body against the railing and scoured the waters for a flash of scales, but in the dark it was impossible to tell where the sound was coming from. 

“Cover your ears!” you shouted over the wind. The crew heard you, somehow, their eyes wide and frightened. You stepped toward them, pressing your palms over your ears. “It’s a siren song!”

Ikkau was the first to act and snapped her fingers up to plug her ears, shouting at the others to do the same. You watched them, hoping it was enough, but the storm tossed the ship farther right. The crew couldn’t save the ship and avoid the song at the same time. It was what made the siren song so cruel—the sailors had to choose, their ship or their life. 

Law huffed your name and you realized your hands had fallen to your sides. He was soaked to the bone and looked silly clutching his stupid hat over his ears. The seawater weighed him down, making him look years older than he was. “You—”

“Get away from the edge!” You pulled him toward the center of the deck where the rest of the crew gathered. You had to come up with a plan, you had to find a way to stop this—

Jean Bart gasped behind you. “Shachi!” 

You and Law whirled around just as Shachi started bolting for the edge of the ship. Law broke from your hold in an instant and grabbed Shachi around his middle right as he had a foot up on the railing, ready to throw himself overboard. 

“Stop—Shachi, snap out of it!” Law grappled with his crewmate against the rail as Shachi clawed at the air, reaching desperately for the ocean. Penguin ran forward and shoved soft wax from the candles into Shachi’s ears. 

Again, Law called your name, his eyes trying to tear you apart. The ship lurched. Soaked in seawater, he didn't stand a chance. Law shot over the side. As the crew reached for purchase on the opposite side of the deck, you reached for Law. Someone shouted after you, their voice lost in the storm. 

You rocketed off the side of the ship in time to see Law disappear, his eyes finding yours and widening to the size of saucers just before he met the water. 

You had to catch him, had to save him. Diving beneath the waves, the silence of the ocean overwhelmed you, such a stark difference from the fury of the storm up above. You barely registered the harsh sting of scales creeping out of your skin, the discomfort of the two legs you’d become so acquainted with joining together. 

Eyes peeled, you weaved through the water and shot off like a bolt the instant the transformation completed. Law sank like a rock, as if the sea itself dragged him down into her depths. You took off after him—and you weren’t the only one. A figure darted down across from you, a spear in hand. The spear of your people’s City Guard. 

Something like a snarl left you as your tail whipped back and forth with power you weren’t aware you had, eyes no longer on Law but on the mer daring to take his life from him. You screeched at the top of your lungs. The mer startled, and you saw his face. Your older brother. He paused just enough.

Your body slammed into Law, your arms wrapping around him, your head covering his own. You hardly noticed when your brother’s spear struck your tail, not when you held Law in your arms. As soon as your brother pulled the spear from your flesh you hooked your arms underneath Law’s pits and swam for the surface. 

You broke through the waves, hauling Law’s head above water. The man’s eyes opened, gazing at you through his haze. His lips parted like he wanted to speak, and that was when he really looked at you. You didn't have time to decipher whatever he might think of you now, for a presence rose behind you. 

“Get away from him!” You whirled around, eyes ablaze. 

Casander snarled back just as darkly. “What are you doing?!”

“Stop all of this!” You stared helplessly at the sky. Lightning struck, thunder ringing in the sky. “Stop now!”

Confusion clouded Casander’s face, nearly overpowering his anger. You had no patience for hesitation. Your grip on Law tightened as you declared, “Stop this, Casander, or I will end it.”

Something archaic flashed in your eyes, a power deep in your soul lashing out for the first time in your life. The song rippled out of your lungs, not giving him time to process as your voice rose above the chaos, above the wind. Below the water, mers left and right felt the shift, their own voices falling silent as you commanded the clouds and the sea and brought them all under your will. 

Law’s heartbeat pressed against your chest from the way you held him. It was all you focused on, singing louder and louder until the wind and rain fell away. The storm clouds dissipated as quickly as they’d appeared, and the moon shone down the Polar Tang as if nothing had ever disturbed this perfect night.

Head after head popped up one after another, and when you opened your eyes you were surrounded by mers. The members of the City Guard. Old friends. Cousins. They had all been searching for you.

“You…” You looked down at Law, his body limp in your grasp. “You’re a… mermaid…”

“I was going to tell you,” you whispered in his ear. From the way he looked away, he didn't exactly believe you. 

Your brother swam forward, the water parting around him, and panic seized your chest. You hissed into the silence of the night, stopping your brother where he was. You felt every eye on you, from the confused mers before you to the whispering pirates up above. 

Casander spoke first. “What is the meaning of this? These pirates—”

“They saved me.” Your heart raced in your chest. “These pirates rescued me from the merchants who kidnapped me. They brought me halfway across the sea. And this is how you treat them?”

Another guard thought he had the right to argue. “We thought—”

“The practice of siren songs,” you cut in, gaze sharp enough to cut, “is banned. I should have you all imprisoned for the rest of your sorry lives.” You glared at Casander. “All of you.”

Casander made to say something more, but you continued. “You—” you pointed at a young woman to your right “—tell the King I’ve been returned home and to prepare the proper reward for my escorts.” When the mer made no move, you snapped, “Go!”

She was off in a blink. 

You weren’t sure what you were doing, or how you were supposed to move on from here, but a small voice called down from the deck of the submarine. You lifted your chin, heart dropping to your gut. The whole crew—your friends—stared down like you were some strange thing. None of the familiarity remained. 

Your tail flicked up without your permission, flashing for the crew to see in all its glory. Ikkaku gasped, breaking you out of your thoughts, and you steeled your expression over. Law was the priority. Law first, then… everything else.

“Toss down a ladder,” you told them. 

Penguin disappeared and returned as instructed, throwing a rope ladder over the railing and starting the careful climb down. The man turned, one hand still on the ladder, the other reaching to wrap around Law’s chest. He gulped upon meeting your gaze, eyes darting up and down. 

“You’re a fish,” he mumbled, and you couldn’t help but laugh, your adrenaline finally crashing. You passed Law to Penguin carefully, tail thrashing to help lift him out of the water. Law’s hand fell to your arm and with whatever strength he had, he squeezed. Your fingers wrapped around him just the same, sliding down his arm as you lowered back into the sea, fingertips touching his till the very last moment. You locked eyes for one brief moment, and Penguin hauled him up the ladder.

With a glance up at the deck, you blinked through the blurriness enough to catch a mink staring down at you. “Bepo…”

The polar bear leaned over the rail to get a better look at you, his brows drawn. “Are you…”

A hand settled on your shoulder as the crew all reached to pull their captain aboard. Your eyes fluttered then, head reeling. Casander turned you to face him, ducking to look you in the eye. “Come on.”

You drifted away from him, shaking your head to rid yourself of this strange haze. “I wanted to say goodbye.”

But Casander was done with your rebelliousness. He took charge once again, hand closing around your bicep like he was prepared to drag you all the way home. “Come home.”

“But—”

He shouted your name. The sound echoed off the sea. “For once in your life don’t be foolish!”

Your tail’s movements grew slower and slower, your neck disappearing underwater, your chin soon to follow. Casander’s voice cracked on your name this time as your eyes fell shut.

In the darkness no one had noticed the ring of red surrounding you. 

Bepo’s growl caught the whole area’s attention. The bear’s eyes narrowed at where your brother grasped you. “She’s bleeding! How could you not see she’s bleeding!”

Casander darted away from you like you’d burned him before rushing to scoop you into his arms before you could sink any further. “I—I had stabbed her—”

“You what?!” It was Ikkaku this time.

“I didn’t mean to!”

Murmurs broke out among the mers, fear rising quickly. Casander floundered helplessly. “What do I—?”

A hand planted on the railing of the ship, a body hauling itself upright as the seawater wore off. Law leaned heavily, regaining his strength, and mustered up enough of it to glare down at the water. You lay limp in the arms of that bitch who’d stabbed you, bleeding out while he treaded water like an idiot. 

“If you don’t want her to die,” Law said very carefully, making sure the merman was listening, “you’ll give her to us.”

“You—”

Ikkaku burst, “She’s going to bleed out!” 

“I’m a doctor,” Law announced to the crowd, and that was that. Casander knew when he was bested. He handed you off into the arms of pirates, his skin crawling at the warmth with which they cared for you. 

Casander was left speechless as the pirate crew disappeared into the belly of their ship, his head started to ache. He turned to the mer on his right. “Return to my father. I will wait.”

Your brother, left alone, stared up at the ship. Yes, he decided, he would wait as long as it takes.

જ ⁀ ➴

You awoke to warmth on all sides, lapping at your skin. Your head lolled from side to side, brow furrowed in discomfort as your neck ran against something cold. Blinking, the light poured into your eyes until they adjusted.

You were in a tub of warm water with your tail hanging over the edge. You leaned upward and ran a hand over the bandage wrapped tight around your tail. The muscles ached fiercely, but at least you weren’t bleeding. One look around the room and you froze. You knew this room. Why the hell were you in Law’s office?

The door opened unceremoniously as the man in question pushed it with his back, his arms taken by two glasses of water. A grumble rolled off his tongue when water sloshed onto the floor, his eyes closing before he let the door close behind him. Law opened his eyes and found you staring at him, as stiff as a board in that awkward sized tub. 

Neither of you knew what to say, so Law simply set one of the waters down on his desk and offered the other one to you. You reached up to take it only to slip under the water without anything to stabilize you, swallowing the warm bath water instead. A sigh left you, eyes peeking up out of the water, and you think Law was fighting a grin. 

He pulled up a chair while you readjusted, ignoring the glass altogether now. He set it aside, silence falling over the room. You fought over what to say to him, when he decided to take the first step.

“I feel like I should have put two and two together,” he mused, catching your eye. 

You chanced a smile and wiped it away all in one moment. “Perhaps.”

Law’s eyes searched your own,and for once you didn’t hide. Every sharp edge and shrouded secret was in the light this time. Still, he sighed heavily. “You never told me.” 

“How was I meant to?” You let out a breathy laugh, only half irritated by the situation. “Think of how we met. How should I have known you wouldn’t do the same the instant I told the truth.” 

The man at your side nodded, blinking fast. “You didn’t trust me.” 

You don’t trust me was what he really said, and you heard it, shaking your head. “That’s not it. You should know it’s not.” Hesitant, you moved a hand through the water, watching it ripple around your skin. “I was scared you’d send me away.” 

For the longest moment, he didn’t reply, too caught up in his own head. Then, finally, “I wouldn’t have.”

The moment ended as quick as it began with a grunt from Law as he cleared his throat. “How do you feel?” 

“Bad. Nervous.” You sank lower in the water as if to hide. Law leaned closer and rested his arms on the rim of the tub. You gazed up at him softly, grinning. “I’m really fucking scared.” 

He sputtered out a laugh, head hitting his folded arms. Law shook his head in disbelief at your choice language. It brought a little grin to your face, before it faded into something sad.  

“You once asked me why I don’t live for myself… ” You flicked the end of your tail and nearly scowled at the long appendage, your scaled shackle. “This is why. I don’t belong here, I never did and it was foolish to dream… But I don’t want to go back. Not ever.”

You said it like you were asking permission to even think it, waiting for someone to tell you it was okay to dare. Law leveled you with a look not unlike the kind he’d given you the last time you’d spoken of what you wanted. This time, you didn’t cower away.

“If you don’t want to,” he began, “then don’t go back. You don’t need anyone’s permission to start living your life.”

Yet even now, you had that same response, but you repeated it with such exasperation, like you hated to ever speak it. “It’s not that simple. They’re my family. And… my subjects.” Law’s brows vaulted. You gave a sheepish shrug.  “I’m sort of… the princess.” 

“Sort of?”

“I am a princess,” you corrected, matching his scant smile. “I’m not first in line, but, y’know.” 

“Mermaid princess. Any other secrets?” 

You blinked, mind blanking, and blurted, “I’m betrothed.” 

Law raked a hand through his hair, eyes ducked, until he couldn’t hold back the chuckle any longer. You splashed a little water at him. 

“What’s so funny?!” 

“Nothing.” The man reached for your hand before you could attack again, holding it tight. “Stealing you away is just gonna be harder than I anticipated.” 

This was something you had not accounted for. Your lips parted, your hand squeezing his. “You want me to stay?” 

“If you’ll join us,” he said, a gleam in his eyes.

“Yes.” You laughed, face bright. “I like it here. With you.” 

He was halfway to his feet before you ever finished, hand never leaving yours. “I’ll just go tell them that, then.” 

You beamed up at him, then froze. You tugged his hand and brought him back down to your eye level. “No. The only one left will be my brother. I should speak to him.” Resolved, you gave Law a firm nod. “Bring him to me.”

જ ⁀ ➴

Getting that pompous, murderous fish brat out of the sea was much more work than it should have been, but half an hour later (after a lot of screaming, a lot of arguing), there was a man toddlering around the submarine on two legs. The whole crew followed after him with varied levels of suspicion and aggravation. 

Casander, quite literally out of his element, hurried as fast as he could given he had the mobility of a newborn deer. 

“In there,” Law grunted, much more intimidating than he needed to be. 

The sea prince felt rather pathetic, but he also knew that any of them could take him down in seconds should he make the wrong move. Casander threw himself into the room Law showed him, not wanting to give anyone the chance to decide he needed to be taken out. 

He leaned his back against the shut door, eyes to the ceiling in a silent prayer, and startled when someone chuckled. Your brother stood to his full height when he noticed you propped up in the metal tub a few feet away. 

Casander scoffed at the sight, though his gaze softened on your bandaged tail. He approached and set a hand on the rim of the tub. “This accommodation is so… condescending.”

“I like it,” you replied, mostly to disagree with him. Your gaze locked him in place. “How’s your spear arm, brother? Is it sore? From where you maimed me?”

He stammered like an idiot, reaching for something reasonable to say. From the way he plopped himself on the ground beside the tub, he came up empty. Casander settled on rolling his eyes. “Would it help if I apologized?”

You considered him, humming. “No. I don’t think I’d accept it. You would have killed my friend if I wasn’t there. You would have killed all of them.” You shifted in the water, pulling yourself closer to him. Your fangs glinted in the light. “Do you have any idea the hell I would have brought down upon you if any of them had died?”

Your brother sighed your name as he looked anywhere but in your eyes. You grabbed his chin and jerked his face back around. “I would have ended you. I would have left you a hollow of yourself, just enough to call it mercy. Do you understand?”

Silent, he nodded, so you released him and relaxed back into the water. 

Now came the difficult part. You leaned your head back and stared up at the ceiling. “All that to say… I’m not coming home.”

Casander’s jaw fell, his voice a shell of his usual composure. “Don’t be foolish.”

You flashed a glare at him. “I’m serious, Casander. I have always done what was asked of me. I’ve always been the perfect princess, and look where it got me. I was captured anyway, despite all my precaution, all the rules I followed. I have never wanted anything for myself. But this… I want this life.” 

The declaration left you breathless. You dared to glimpse his reaction, watching Casander’s face grow colder and colder. 

“You want him,” he scoffed after a moment. 

Warmth filled your chest. “Among other things.” 

He dragged his hands down his face, eyes shut against reality. “And what should I tell our parents? Your intended?” 

“My intended?” You laughed at him and reached to flick his forehead. “Tell them I made a choice, and that I’m sure the seas won’t cease to flow in my absence.” 

Your older brother, so strong and brave, shook his head violently. “You’re being stupid.” 

“Maybe.” 

“You can’t trust him,” he tried, looking desperate. “He’s a man. He's eaten the Bane of the Sea. I can smell it on him. He’ll betray you and when he does the reef won’t welcome you.” 

Even though he glared and his voice rose against you, you knew Casander better. He was rude and callous and would probably drag you home himself if not for the crew of pirates loitering outside the door. And though he had wanted to kill Law,  though he had nearly killed you… he was still Casander, wasn’t he? The brother you knew would come after you, who you knew would rescue you no matter what? 

You gave him a sorry smile. “You don’t mean that.”

“I don’t,” he agreed, heaving a sigh. His eyes fell to your tail again, guilt passing through his gaze. “And if I say I’ll miss you?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ll leave you this little snail thing. It’ll help us communicate across the sea if you’ll really miss me so badly.”

Casander shoved at your face and splashed some water over your head before all humor and joy fled his body, and he became the picture of the perfect prince. 

He stood, pressing a hand to your shoulder. “I hope he treats you well. I hope you’re happy.”

“I am,” you answered, and Casander left the room and the ship altogether without a fight. For the first time in months, you felt totally, truly free.

જ ⁀ ➴

Someone shouted your name, you think it was Ikkaku, but you ignored every warning and balanced on the edge of the tree branch. You clung to a vine to keep steady and looked all around the forest form your bird’s eye view. The trees went on for miles. You’d always known that land could be as vast as the sea, but to see it was something entirely different to behold. A life-filled laugh bubbled out of you. 

You cast a glance down at the jungle floor. Ikkaku walked away with a series of grumbles, following after Bepo and Shachi as they weaved their way through the undergrowth. 

Law crossed his arms and even at a distance you could see the wry grin on his lips. You called down to him, “I’m getting good at this, don’t you think?”

He lifted his chin, guarding his eyes from the sun with his palm. “Until you fall, of course.”

“You’d catch me, right?” you shouted back. He didn't say yes, but he didn't say no either. 

You climbed down the tree haphazardly, missing a few branches and dropping a good foot with a frightened squeak, but you always recovered. Climbing every tree you could find turned out to be the perfect form of exercise. 

He was there when your feet hit the ground, a barely there smile lighting up his face. 

“One day,” he said in your ear, half turned to follow the others, “you’ll fall.”

You fell into step beside him with a shrug, eyeing him teasingly. “You won’t let me.”

He didn’t reply, but you knew it was the truth. In the few months since the pirates had “stolen you away” as Penguin liked to call it, you’d come to know your place in the crew (as well as in Law’s heart).

What the submarine’s sonars couldn’t pick up, you went out to scout. Over time, your training paid off, and you became quite skilled with a set of throwing knives, and even better at close hand combat. Not to mention your unofficial job as “Law Retriever.” Your captain fell into the sea more often than you’d like. 

And the captain was grateful. And he was strange. The relationship between you and Law wasn’t one with strict rules or an exact name. All you knew was that he waited for you when you fell behind, he took your hand when he thought no one was looking, and he had this soft expression reserved only for you.

You reveled in his attention, really, and were barely able to contain your own affection enough to not scare him off. 

The pair of you stopped at the edge of the clearing the rest of the crew were exploring. Law’s shoulder nudged your own, so with a roll of your eyes you took his hand. 

“You think you’re so subtle,” you muttered. 

He cast you a sly glance. “Aren’t I?” 

“Not at all.” You shook your head and turned to face him. “I see right through you, Captain. At this point, there’s not a thing you could do that would surprise me.”

He chuffed, lips tilted into a grin. You didn’t catch the challenge flashing in his eyes, not until his hand cupped your cheek and dragged you in. A shocked sound rumbled from the back of your throat, wide eyes set on his cheeky face, and you barely dared to breathe. 

“Law?” you squeaked, and he leaned closer… and left a kiss on your cheek. 

He stepped away as quickly as he’d invaded your space and walked toward Bepo, leaving you breathless and increasingly frustrated. You growled under your breath. “Law!”

Your captain simply gave you a thumbs up, lips pressed together to hold in a laugh. 

In your crew, you knew exactly where you stood. And maybe it was naive to think you knew precisely how you and Law worked, to claim he was an open book. Honestly, as the warmth crept up your neck and you fled to Ikkaku’s side, you didn't really mind the uncertainty. You cast Law a brief look, catching him staring at you from across the clearing, still grinning. 

Whatever this was, there was a kind of freedom in the unknown of it all. You wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @100520s @kryscent @kultofkorii @dreamcastgirl99

The council should really stop meddling, in your opinion.

Being born with Ancient Giant traces in your lineage, you knew the perceptions of your kind better than anyone else. The idea of being 'pure-blooded' for the royal line was quite an outdated idea, really. You did not want any part of it, but when Prince Loki proposed marriage to Big Mom's child of all people, the council panicked and immediately put pressure on King Harald to set his marriage up with a Giant having Ancient Giant blood in them.

King Harald did not want to engage his son to anyone, knowing full well himself what such a marriage could lead to, and yet he could not completely overthrow the council's… 'kind advice.' And though you had no respect for the council's whims and demands, you did have great respect for King Harald. In an attempt to retain some power over the decision making, King Harald had gone through all the possible candidates (a measly three) and chosen you, for you were the only one actually around Loki's age.

Not to mention, you supported King Harald's views on Elbaph's future. When he had learnt that, there was unmistakeable relief on his features, and you couldn't help but wonder if he truly thought you could make a difference. Prince Loki was well-known for his bigoted and elitist views, claiming Giant supremacy. And yet, he has proposed to Charlotte Lola, who was notably not a Giant—which made you wonder.

It had been two years since she had run away from the marriage, but to Giants, that wasn't as long. He could still be nursing a broken heart, and you did not want to impose yourself on him in any case. An arranged marriage for the purity of maintaining the royal bloodline was the last thing he needed after such a rejection, you thought.

But King Harald had requested you personally, and you were unable to refuse.

So here you were now, waiting with the King and the council to meet the man you were going to be betrothed to. The throne room was filled with the incoherent whispers of those old meddlers, and you could not bring yourself to look at King Harald. He did not want this any more than you did, but between the two of you, there was still this sense of awkwardness brought forth by the fact that you were only agreeing to this for the sake of the respect you held for him.

After all, Loki was truly your opposite. It was impossible for him to agree to marry you, who was so different to him.

The doors to the throne room banged open, startling you out of your thoughts, and the Prince finally barged in. You were already irritated by how long he had made you wait, having no respect for your time, and it only compounded upon seeing the glare he immediately sent you as if you had planned all of this.

"I refuse!" He announced immediately. You couldn't stop yourself from rolling your eyes in time, and decided to commit to it by folding your arms over your chest. Let him know you were not begging to marry him either; it was the last thing you wanted.

"Loki," King Harald immediately tried to placate him, but the council, ignorant and arrogant as they were, interrupted him to regale all of you once again with the speech on how it was important to maintain the sanctity of the royal bloodline. When they started talking about how you must marry and bear children for this great honour, your mouth twisted into a look of disgust even Loki's couldn't match. The two of you were only 45, in your Giant equivalent of what the humans called 'teens.' You were both impressed and disgusted by how clinical they could be about uttering such garbage, but if King Harald couldn't throw them out, then you were even more powerless.

"Why are you acting like you don't know the end result of this insanity?" Loki roared, glaring at his father but pointing at you. You swallowed the urge to speak up, because the adults had all warned you to let them deal with him first.

Everyone knew how Queen Estrid had denounced her own son for he was born with demonic eyes. You never liked her, or the fact that she could so easily abandon her own child over something so inconsequential. How unfeeling and selfish does a person have to be to do that?

Loki's claims had basis. You could have been just like her, like one of those other Giants who only care about the title and the power. But the truth was you did not care for that—you only wanted to live a peaceful and happy life on Elbaph, learning and teaching and shaping this land into one where knowledge, culture, history and love bound people.

"Prince Loki, argument is futile," one of the council spoke up, unfazed by his anger. "This is your duty, the one you have been bound to since before your birth."

"And you want my future child to be bound to this ridiculous notion as well?" He hissed, and you could truly understand his anger in that. Honestly though, if you became Queen, you would try your level best to abolish the council first and foremost; they were far too meddlesome and powerful for your liking.

"Enough!" King Harald boomed, shutting up both sides. "Loki, the blood you claim to take so much pride in was the result of my marriage with Estrid. Our beliefs aside, there are certain duties we are bound to for the sake of Warland. And because I did not want you to suffer as I did, I chose the one you are going to marry. You will not be disappointed, of that I can assure you."

You laughed mirthlessly and soundlessly at the words; there was nothing harder than to please Prince Loki. For him to be not disappointed, for him to be okay with you, was a pipe dream at best.

"Talk amongst yourselves before you refuse," King Harald growled. He promptly stood up and left, leaving the throne room. Loki sent you one last glare before stomping out himself. You wondered if it would be okay for you to ignore the king's order and tried to make your way to the door.

The council stopped you in your tracks, and you tried not to let your disdain of them show, but their words made it all quite too difficult.

"You would do well to remember what is at stake, child."

A threat to your family, to your village, to all those you held close—all simply because they happened to be subjects of Warland, and these old jerks happened to hold sway over them all.

You were against violence, and you did not believe in the crap that Giants have inherently violent tendencies. But these people, they made you wish that you didn't advocate for peace—just so you could punch them to the next century. No, next millenium. May mother nature swallow their flesh and bone before they could wake up.

"Prince Loki, wait!" You called out after him. He had already walked quite a distance, the palace left far behind as he made his way to the underworld. Loki ignored you in favour of slipping down to the snow covered hellscape. You ran after him, cursing under your breath as you found yourself in the snow covered underworld.

And yet all you could do in your position was nod and not let any of your thoughts show on your face. They filed out, leaving you standing in the empty throne room, reminding you that even at your best, you were going to be all alone in this.

•

"Stop following me," Loki snarled, finally stopping in his tracks. You huffed out a breath as you finally stood across him, hands on your hips.

"I do not desire this marriage any more than you do, Prince Loki," you offered him a plain smile. He stilled at those words, and you briefly wondered how his expression must have changed beneath the bandages. "I cannot imagine how difficult this must be for you, so soon after…"

You trailed off, unsure how to word it. Loki tensed, his body dropping into a defensive posture.

"Do not speak of things you do not know," he warned, and you decided to switch tracks.

"But we are duty bound," you whispered, looking down at your own palms. "I cannot fight against the council, and neither can you. Though we share no love, I believe it would be in our best interests to play our parts. I will not bind you to the duties of a spouse, so long as you do not beholden me to the same. We can be engaged in name alone, until we can figure out a way to circumvent–"

"Or," Loki interrupted, a smirk on his face, "I could beat you up, and then no one would insist we marry."

You paused, taking a second to scrutinise if this was a terrible attempt at a joke, or if he was being serious. You didn't have the luxury to truly wonder though, because Loki pounced on you the very next moment, and your instincts kicked in to dodge his attacks.

With every punch and kick that you dodged, Loki's expression changed. He had thought that you, who advocated for that peaceful nonsense crap, would not know how to fight. It wasn't his brightest idea, but Loki had thought that if he just managed to hurt you a bit, you would not stand to be married to him and the council and his father would have to change their minds.

He hadn't expected you to know how to fight, though you were refusing to fight back. You were carefully only dodging his blows, on your defence. And that sent a thrill up his spine, as he wondered how he could make you fight back.

"Stop holding back," he said, unable to hide the excitement in his voice as you once again dodged him with the kind of ease that spoke of consistent training. "Fight me back!"

"Prince Loki, I do not wish to fight you," you replied, barely ducking in time to avoid the swipe he attempted. "You know I have no interest in violence for the sake of violence!"

"And yet you are unexpectedly good at fighting," he pointed out, not toning down his advances in the least. You scowled at his relentless pursuit.

"Knowing how to defend yourself is a skill I believe every Giant should know regardless of who and where they are."

"And this doesn't go against your no violence nonsense?" He asked, finally slowing down to challenge you in a verbal argument. You huffed, straightening out your hair and clothing before you answered.

"I believe that Giants are not inherently violent," you explained. "However, what I truly advocate is the freedom of choice. I do not want our future generations to grow up believing that fighting is in their blood and so that is the only end they can have. I want an Elbaph full of Giants who are learned, who are strong enough to defend themselves, and who have the knowledge to make a choice about what they truly want to do. I do not agree with all of King Harald's changes such as completely erasing fighting skills from the children's curriculum, but I still admire him for at least taking a step in that direction. Not everything is black and white, Prince Loki."

"So that's your grand plan for when you become Queen?" Loki's voice was strange, and not for the first time, you wished you could see his eyes, if only so that his face would tell what he was truly thinking.

"No, that is my wish as a citizen of Warland, as a Giant of Elbaph," you corrected him. "If you would stop fighting me, and agree to this arrangement, I might become the Queen. But that is not for a long time. Even if I do not become the Queen, I want to do my best for this wonderful land we have been fortunate to be born on."

Loki was silent for a few seconds, then snorted. "You speak a bunch of fancy crap. Whatever. I guess I can tolerate this… arrangement, as you put it."

You blinked, staring after him as the prince walked off. The words took a few seconds to click, but when you finally understood, you gave a sigh of relief.

Somehow, your betrothal turns into an excuse for Loki to spar with you. Eventually he wears you down and you start fighting back, treating it as good training for the both of you. It becomes your thing, with the two of you ignoring the topic of marriage and simply engaging in fighting. Although Loki was still the brash, violent, and crude prince you knew him as, there was a shift in how you saw him.

"You better be back here tomorrow to fight me for real," Loki called out from the distance. "If I don't find you here for a spar, I can't say if I would be able to tolerate the arrangement anymore."

•

Maybe because of the difference in distance, maybe because there was this strange satisfaction in outsmarting him, or maybe because you got to see his cocky smirk from up close so often—you found your heart beating a little faster than normal.

And though Loki would never say it, he found himself enjoying the time spent around you too. You didn't seem to care about his reputation as the problem prince, and… surprisingly, you didn't seem to care about his eyes either. In fact, you seemed to even like them.

It started off innocently enough.

In one of your sparring sessions, you had nicked his bandages, causing them to tear. Loki's hands automatically came up to hold them in place, but that was all the gap you needed to topple him down, and then you were bracketing his waist, with your sword pointed at his throat; and Loki's face was fully visible, his eyes widened in surprise. Your own eyes had widened for a brief second in shock, but your smug smile did not drop.

"It's my win, handsome," you teased him. You had figured out that Loki could get surprisingly flustered with certain compliments. Although he was arrogant enough to not blink at compliments about his strength, he was weirdly cagey about compliments to his looks and to his personality. You had seen his eyes and yet teased him like that, and Loki frowned, thinking that your words must hold no weight. Empty praises to get a rise out of him, that's all they were.

And so he had averted his gaze until you clambered off and held out your hand to help him get up. He ignored it in favour of retying his bandages. You pouted and walked off, murmuring, "What a shame."

Loki paused at the words, unsure why your behaviour seemed to jab something inside him. He did not care for others' opinions of him, and you were no different. Right? If you found his eyes as disgusting as his mother had, as everyone else did, you would be no different.

But the next day, you nicked his bandages off again, and the smile on your face was somehow brighter than before. It did not seem like his eyes mattered to you. The way you saw him, the way you acted around him, none of it changed. If anything, you seemed to smile at him more when his eyes were exposed.

Still, he kept them covered. Somehow, his eyes remaining open made him feel vulnerable. Like you could read him, and see through to his soul whenever your eyes met.

He was more careful with his bandages from then on, and the sparring sessions seemed to build up a different kind of tension from before, the distance between you two diminishing so that you were pressed up against each other more often than not. Yet both of you hesitated to act on anything, and Loki would end up speaking harshly afterwards, as if to balance it out.

You never seemed to be hurt by his words, but one day, his words must have been particularly harsh because you had this expression that he never wished to see again. You had thrown your sword at him, and by the time he got up from dodging it, you had walked off faster than ever before. Loki found himself following you quietly, and was surprised to find you at Ida's empty, closed bar.

"Oh no, sweetheart, what's wrong?" The older Giant was always sweet and kind to you, and you sought her comfort and advice when things became tough. Your family and village had some outdated ideas about how to deal with the engagement (re: seducing the young prince), but Ida seemed to be on the same page as you.

"'S nothing," you mumbled, asking her for a drink. "Loki is being an ass again."

"Ah," Ida smiled knowingly, not speaking anything more as she wiped down a glass for you.

"How are you?" You asked, hoping to change the topic. Ida seemed to be slightly sick these days, and you worried for her health. She returned an exhausted smile.

"Same old, same old," she tried to reassure you, but seeing you frown, she tried to change tactics. "Think I could see a marriage anytime before I get well?"

You snorted, joking, "If you set me up with Hajruddin maybe."

Loki, who was totally not eavesdropping on you two from the window, froze at the words.

"Then I can finally be your daughter-in-law and you will let me take care of you whenever you get sick," you teased her.

"Nope, not even then," she whacked you lightly on your head with her towel. "And between us two, you know I know that you wouldn't really be happy with my eldest son."

"I don't know what you are talking about," you grumbled, looking out the window. "Liking Loki sounds more like a painful experience than however love is supposed to be. Nothing like what you and King Harald have."

Loki decided that he had heard enough; for some reason, his chest felt funny at your words, and there was an uneasy pit in his stomach at the thought of you marrying Hajruddin. It didn't make sense because he hadn't really wanted to marry you, but at this point, it felt more foolish to deny it.

Somewhere along the two some years he had gotten to know you, he had started liking you. And the truth was that Prince Loki of Elbaph, who had given up on love right after his birth, knew all too well that love was not something he was worthy of. A pure love was not something he would ever receive. Not when his own mother could not love him.

So how could you? Maybe you would really be happier with Hajruddin. And wasn't that an ugly thought?

Even if you would be happier with him, Loki didn't want to give you up. So what if you like Hajruddin better? So did everybody else on Elbaph. And yet you were betrothed to him, to Loki. So he just had to make you stay.

You never figured out what changed, or why, but Loki stopped saying mean and harsh things to you. Instead he would awkwardly break off the tension to escape conversation. You were left watching him in confusion every time, wondering if this was some weird truce he was trying at. Then you thought, nah, that can't be.

Prince Loki was not worthy of love, in his own eyes. But he could try to become worthy to one Giant. To you.

•

But you noticed the changes more and more as time passed. The way Loki was relaxed around you. The way he would hold back in the spars to never let anything even accidentally hurt you. The way he let you touch him, sometimes even initiating contact. The way he asked questions and listened to you talk about your ideas.

And you didn't understand what was going on, but you couldn't say you disliked it. He was still gruff and rough and said things he didn't quite mean, because he would always do the opposite—but he was trying to be nicer, and if you pointed it out, he would just get angry and stop, so you didn't.

You just tried to show your support through your actions. Smiling more at him, bringing him food sometimes, leaning into his side when he let you, and once even telling him that you really liked his eyes so if he wanted to remove the bandages just around you, he could do it.

The silence at your words had been deafening, as you wondered if you had crossed a line you shouldn't have, but then he removed the bandages, and you noticed the pink in his cheeks and realised—Loki was shy. And his eyes looked a little scared and a little disbelieving, but you just gave him a soft smile and said, "They suit you well, my prince."

Things were going so well, you thought that within a few years, you might actually get married. And the impending marriage didn't feel that damning anymore, not when you found yourself falling in love, not when you felt Loki reciprocating in his own actions.

Though you both ignored talking about it, you dreamed about a future where you could be married and happy. Where he might be king, and you might be queen, and you shaped Elbaph into the greatness King Harald had kick-started.

And you thought that it would be nice to go out and explore what is out there for yourself so you could do more good as a Queen someday. So you requested to get on a cargo ship that conducted trade with some of the neighbouring and allied islands. The council wasn't happy but Loki agreed and so did King Harald and so you set sail, thrumming with excitement to learn and come home with enough courage to let Loki know how you really felt.

But good things never last. You should have known that.

When you returned to Elbaph 3 years later, you had lost too much. You lost Ida. Loki destroyed Brewers village, and your village immediately retracted the marriage arrangement because they feared they would be next. And then King Harald died, and everyone said it was Loki who killed him, calling him the shame of Elbaph, while you watched everything you had dreamed about crumble one after the other.

Nothing made sense. It was difficult to even look at Hajruddin, when you could feel his anger and grief, and you couldn't agree with him. It was difficult to stand in front of Ida and Harald's graves, not knowing what to say. It was difficult to face your village without feeling like you were living different lives, with very different priorities and goals.

Time doesn't heal much when you are burdened with questions and no answers. It only taught you to make peace with having the questions unanswered, especially since Loki had long left Elbaph and you doubted he would ever come back.

But he was brought back eventually. The Red-haired Emperor of the Sea brought him back and Chief Jarul had him chained up in the Underworld. You wanted to see him, but the decision to not execute him struck you as odd, and you decided to confront the oldest Giant in Elbaph first before you went down.

Chief Jarul had denied answering you before when you had questioned him, but this time he finally relented and told you the truth of what had happened. And everything fell into place once more, because yeah, that sounded more like the Loki you knew.

So you went down to the Underworld to face the prince who had left Elbaph to go destroy the World Government. Seeing him chained and bruised up, you couldn't help the small gasp that left you. Loki had always held such an imposing figure in front of you, full of strength and power, that it was jarring to see him defeated and wounded.

He tensed upon seeing you and smiled derisively.

"Come to mock me, have you?" He asked, and it was like the first time you had met all over again. You ignored him in favour of running your fingers over his bruises. Loki flinched at the featherlight touch, the sea-stone chains jangling from the movement. "No? Ah, then you must be here because of that stupid arrangement."

You paused in your ministrations to raise an eyebrow at him.

"Maybe you are a little out of touch," he hissed, his mocking smile never waning. "You are free now. This sham marriage they tried to push on you is done with, so you don't have to keep trying. You got what you want, so go and live out your life however you wanted to!"

And really, did he think he was a good actor? You really weren't very impressed with his attempts. Tilting your head at him, you smiled back at him in the same way you had before you had left Elbaph. The sight made him freeze, as always.

"I'm afraid that what I want," you said carefully, bringing a hand up to undo the bandages covering his eyes, "is chained up in the Underworld at the moment."

Loki's breath hitched, and you saw him open his mouth to probably barrage you with insults and mean taunts that had once upon a time hurt your young heart. But you knew better now, and you knew what he was truly like, what he truly meant to say beneath crude words.

"You cannot be rid of me, Prince Loki," you said sweetly, your own smile taking an edge as you finally slipped off the bandages. Loki's eyes were wide in shock and disbelief. You brushed your thumb over his left cheek, right under his eye, and continued, "So what if they had arranged this marriage first? There's no rule saying that I can't marry you of my own accord. If anything, their arrangement shows how perfect I am; they cannot deny me on the basis of my status or who I am."

"You…" Loki seemed to be stunned speechless, and the sight of him like that made you laugh softly. "I don't want you. You give yourself too much credit. You have no place in my ambitions. I am Prince Loki, the Sun God, and I will destroy the world!"

"Okay," you agreed, still giving him a loving smile. "Let's destroy the world together. I know what happened 7 years ago. I have a score to settle with those World Government people too."

"You, you hate violence." Loki tried to say it like a statement but it came out as a question.

"I do," you replied. "I just hate them a little more."

Loki was looking so bewildered and baffled by every word out of your mouth that you decided to take pity on him. Backing away from where he was chained, you tucked your hands behind your back and said with all seriousness,

"I love you, Prince Loki of Elbaph. I will get you out of these chains so you can stand next to me on the altar of life to swear your soul unto me. And when we are married, we will leave this island to 'destroy the world' and set it free. So I won't ask you if you will marry me. You have a tendency to lie about your feelings, and it seems you haven't changed in the years we have spent apart."

"When did I lie?!" Loki sounded outraged, but you just smirked.

"If you think I didn't recognise your ploy to get me away from you so that I don't get involved with the World Government, then you must think me stupider than I am."

Loki paused at that, and then finally let out a huff of laughter.

"Fine, you win," he murmured. "You want to marry me so bad, you look stupid."

You barked out a laugh at his sad attempt.

"No, silly," you said, just a bit sweeter than usual. "You love me so bad, you look stupid trying to be the hero you are not."

°•❀•°

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Vinsmoke Sanji

It was in the evening — he was prepping the ingredients for tomorrow’s breakfast when you trudged inside. He didn’t glance or look, just from the foot steps alone; he knew his pretty girl had come in.

“I’ll be right there beautiful, just need to prep these—”

You take him in a hug from behind. Face pressing into his spine.

His chopping, halts.

Blinking, eyes going wide.

“Er—”

You nudge your face into his back and he flinches, his back arching when you press yourself even deeper.

A shiver running down his shoulders—a pleasant one.

“H-hey, what’s with the sudden attention—?”

“Shhh.” You mumble into his shirt, he smells good. Like cologne, like those fancy cigarettes he so likes and cooking wine. A bit sweet, almost. You want more of it, more of him.

“Just enjoy this moment whilst you still can, Sanji.”

He drops his chopping knife. Prepping forgotten.

He turns, however rigid, and faces you.

You don’t let go of him no, you immediately press your face back into him, into his chest.

Arms wrought around his waist.

Sanji leans back against the counter, one hand going to the small of your back, and the other to take a quick smoke before plucking out his cigar. Jaw going up so not to blow smoke in your face.

Damn. Sorry Luffy but he has to admit it. He could die right here, right now, and be the happiest man alive.

He looks down to you “Why are you spoiling me today? Did you like the parfait that much? I’ll make some more if you want, if it means I'll get more of this.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” you nuzzle into his chest, smiling. “I just missed you. That’s all. Promise.”

And he chuckles at that.

Locking you in an embrace, hands on the small of your back. Trying to breathe as slow as possible as he leans his cheek against your hair.

“Don’t hesitate missing me more often.”

Smoker

(note: opla smoker... i'm not over him, not anytime soon)

Reports regarding the recent incidents at the harbour has been delivered — and that’s what he was over seeing, back leaned against his chair, legs tossed up his office table and on his third cigar of the hour.

And when you peeked inside, you’ll earn yourself a look over his report papers. And earning even an accusing brow when he sees the little mischievous smile on your face.

“Whatever gotten you giddy — better not force me to scold you.” he says as you tiptoe forward, hands behind your back as you come close. And when he returns his glance to his reports once again—that’s when you entrap him in an embrace.

Your nose nestling to his neck. Breath hot on his throat.

He freezes. Blinks twice. Before digging his molars into his cigar and giving you a hard glance.

“Hey, doll, is everything as it should—”

You withdraw. Cupping his stupidly handsome face, before leaning in, kissing him on the cheek. His nose. His temple. His chin and jaw and everywhere else. Lipstick marks all over his face. He’s bashed pink.

“You’re so handsome, I want to eat you.”

“… right—” and before he can continue, you manoeuvre into his lap and bury your face into his neck.

A proud, pleasant, victorious smile appears on your face when you hear him drop the reports, drill down his cigar and widen his knees to make space for your seat.

You resist calling him a good boy.

His larger palm goes to the small of your back, just resting there before taking hold of your jaw, grip firm as he makes you look at him.

“What’s with all the attention today? Are you well?” he says, rubbing your lower lip with his thumb — all business and broody and you snort. Not taking him seriously with all those lipstick marks across his face. “Just shut up and enjoy this moment before it passes.” That’s all you say before you bury into his chest again.

And he leans back, heart beating a little too fast. A little too hard.

And you know what?

Sure.

He’ll take it.

Whatever his pretty girl says.

Dracule Mihawk

He was cooking, chopping up vegetables with such precision and focus you almost think he’s going on a limb, and not a carrot. That’s when you trudge inside the kitchen, and he hears you. Not withdrawing his gaze from the cutting board, not once.

“Dinner won’t be ready before eight, and no, you won’t get a test bite this time.” He says, his knife not stopping — not until he feels your hand on his shoulder blade.

At that; he halts. Not blinking.

You slide your hands up his back, feeling how his toned muscles underneath his ivory shirt flexes beneath your fingers. His heart stutters, just a little before turning to face you.

You have mischief spelled in your eyes, a smile all too playful and giggling.

He tilts his jaw and gives you a brow. “Is everything well?” He says as you catch his hands in yours. Interlacing your fingers.

You come closer, and he presses himself against the counter at your sudden boldness.

“Dear?” You say, leaning in, cheeks all flushed and a corner of his lip jerks. Frowning.

You’re beautiful. And it’s having its effect on him.

His hands reaches out to your face, removing a lock of hair so to see you clearly. “Hm?”

You bring his hands close to your collarbones, still holding them, as you tiptoe, “Kiss me.” You say before closing your eyes and pout your lips.

Dracule Mihawk doesn’t get flustered or bashful, no. Absolutely not. But he does part his lips, eye twitch (just a little) as you keep tiptoeing up. His head short-circuits and when he’s silent for just a second too long, do you open your eyes, scowling and withdrawing.

“Whatever. You lost your moment, buddy.” You wave him off, turning on your heel but just before you get the chance to even take one step further—does he grab you from behind.

Hand on your shoulder and an arm slung across your collarbones.

He pulls you into his chest, feel his warmth radiate into your spine, and he takes a hold on your jaw. Forcing you to meet his lips.

He kisses you, and it’s not tender—but bruising. And when he parts, you’re the one who’s all flustered. A satisfied smirk makes it to his cold mouth, rubbing your lower lip with his thumb.

“Clingy today, aren’t you? What’s with the change of heart.”

You turn to face him, hands going to his shoulder blades as you bring him into an embrace. And he let’s you. Holding you back.

You press your face into his chest.

“Missed you, that’s why.” You nustle against him, “I missed you so much.”

He blinks. Sharp eyes narrowing — and somehow softening. “I see.”

And he brings you closer by the small of your back, placing his chin on top of your hair.

He won’t admit it, but he wouldn’t mind if you missed him a little more often.

Portgas D. Ace

Ace was polishing the beads to his necklace, sitting at the edge of his bed when you stepped inside. He spots you, and an immediate grin comes into face as he puts his necklace back on and flexing it at you. “Babe, look, they’re glistening aren’t they—?”

Your steps are hard, fast—plunging as you throw him into an embrace.

He catches you, leaning back against the bed. Completely motionless and tense as he feels you rubbing your face in his neck. Hands tugging onto his back. And then he twitches when he feels you kissing him there. Pecking him. Nibbling him and he flinches.

“Er, babe, I—uh—” What the hell is going on?

You look up to him, your face sly and he goes pink.

You’re so pretty. Too pretty.

His heart is bulging out of his chest as he grabs hold of your shoulders.

“Did something happen? You’re being quite attentive today.”

You tilt your head, deciding to play with him a bit.

Your hands travel from his back, down to his shoulders and tugging onto his collar. Pulling him forward. Just a little.

“My boyfriend is so handsome.” You say, one palm going to where his heart sits. Its beating, hard and fast. You resist not smirking when glancing back to him, “How could I not miss his touch, hm? Tell me that, Ace.” You tug his collar again, grinning and Ace is malfunctioning.

What the… wow. Okay. You know what. He’s not complaining.

But god, he doesn’t know what to say to your sudden boldness.

He just stares like an idiot.

“Er.”

You scowl, “Here I am, giving you my undivided attention and all you say to me is… ‘er’!?”

“No what—I mean, I should, I—?”

You press your face back into his chest. He’s so warm. He smells so good. You want more of him, so you tug him closer, shushing him. “Shut up and enjoy this moment whilst you still can.” You hum, nestling close to his chest.

And you feel him embracing you back. Pressing his cheek against your hair line.

“Yes. Of course. Anything my pretty girl says.”

And he means it, even when his face is completely red, and his heart thumping out his ribs.

Anything you want—he’ll take it.

And when his most lonesome hours comes yet again, he’ll think of you and this moment again and again.

Red-hair Shanks

Shanks wakes up alone on deck with the worst hang over of his life. Slouched over a table. Damn. How much did he drink last night? He can’t remember jack-shit, anyways — he reaches for the nearest mug, still half-full, and zero knowledge if it belongs to him or not, but he chugs down the drink anyways.

“Phew,” He swipes his chin, that’s better.

He hears the footsteps of a certain beauty inching close and he looks up.

Blanket over your shoulders. He puts on that charismatic, toothy smile of his.

“Hello gorgeous, mind giving me some attention this lovely morning—” And before he gets to finish, you lean in, placing the blanket over his shoulders. Cheek pressed into his red, red hair.

Either he’s dreaming or really freaking drunk right now — but are you… are you actually giving in and offering affection? You?

Wow. He loves this dream.

He slings his arm over your shoulder, hesitating before actually pulling you in.

“Shanks.” You say, voice soft and he tenses. “You need a bath.”

You say that and yet you take in the scent of his hair, press your cheek harder against his head.

“Mmnh… I probably should; wanna join me?” He clutches you closer, and you manoeuvre into his lap. Nestling into his throat. Nudging your nose over the crook of his neck, he’s so warm. And with the morning breeze, it feels so pleasantly good, you can’t get enough of it, enough of him.

You feel him sink into your embrace, the blanket bristling heat between you two and you pull away only so you can grab his face and kiss his cheek. One on the left, then on his right, before making it to his brows.

You lean back, and the man is staring you down, taking in your features as the faintest tint of a blush is made on his ears. Heart beating a little bit too hard.

His hand travels down your spine to the small of your back. His fingers lazy, hand loose, before pulling you closer, spreading his knees so you can have more space.

“Spoiling me today aren’t you? What’s the special occasion and can we make it more often?”

You snort. “Savour it. It’s just for this moment, and this moment only.”

You lean back in, pulling him deeper into your embrace and he softens. Scoffing a little. As he sinks into your warmth.

If this a dream — he really doesn’t want to wake up.