Archive of Our Own ^beta

Last on first off, the helmsman was a position usually held by the lowest rank, the newest recruit. That would be him—positioned at the helm, following instructions of the more experienced crew members to keep the sub on track. But Bepo was on land and so was Jean Bart. Had been.

The Polar Tang had surfaced in sight of Winner Island and far enough, the Hearts hoped, from the reach of the monsters on Blackbeard's team. In a breath stolen from battle, Law shambled Jean Bart to the ship deck, and they submerged again, but not in enough time for Jean Bart to direct Hakugan out of a tight situation.

For sure, Hakugan had steered the Polar Tang through the whirlpools and currents around Onigashima, and the deep that Mugiwara had plummeted into, during their Wano forays, but the Hearts had always praised Jean Bart's evasive diving skills to the now darkly absent sky. Through his prowess, the more medically-minded Hearts were free to assist in intricate surgeries on the war-wounded, and everyone got away.

Hakugan fluttered his fingers against the water. Entwined with kelp and brushed by jellyfish, his arms yearned for the sun above, but the deep pulled. Geese didn't fare well so far down.

Penguins had good diving abilities, and submerging at depth for half an hour or so wasn't unusual for them, but land and the skies were the domain of snow geese. At least Hakugan could handle the cold, but it was pitch black. Was. A flash of luminescence revealed the edge of a frame and lit a photograph. A young Ikkaku, minus her first tooth, smiled out before floating by.

That luminescence, Clione, shining brightly, zipped through and around those adrift, guiding them through the dark. Sea Angels had no problem with pressure or depth. The Tang had been submerged more than 40 metres, but that was shallow for the molluscs, and not that deep for the ship itself. They hadn't gone far from Winner Island when explosions ripped their home in half.

A dark, bulky nattering mass now swam below the swirling, sinking bodies of the Heart Pirates. Shachi and Ikkaku. The Blackbeards thought they'd destroyed the Polar Tang and so the crew, but not these North Blue fellows. Not this particular band of brothers and sisters.

Shachi's fin was as tall as a human, his length a few times longer than Jean Bart. And the Hearts had to trust. What choice did they have? Especially Hakugan, Jean Bart, and a few others not as attuned to the buffeting of the ocean when immersed in it.

There were tales of men swallowed by whales. One, a prophet, and one the guardian of a liar. In either case the men had lived for a period of time in the huge churning hollows of the mighty creatures—but had the whales been carnivores?

The top of the cetaceans, the orcas were the rulers of the sea. The narwhal wasn't to be discounted either. Hakugan's comrades had teeth.

In their familiar forms, everyone was wary of Shachi, and kept an eye on Ikkaku. There were stories of the great orca speared by the horn of a narwhal, even though only a few females grew the external tooth.

Shachi and Ikkaku trained their human awareness to meld with the animal so that—as with those who knew how to control Sulong—they didn't bring harm, except to their enemies.

Orange and white striped tentacles rippled past Hakugan—the head of a sea anemone flexing its bright body backwards and forwards through the water. There was so much water, and the pressure. He couldn’t tell if he was cold, if he was uncomfortable. He tried to shake the vegetation from his hands, but to even budge a finger took effort.

Warm and protective, the bowels of a whale sounded inviting. Toothed whales and dolphins might not be as magnanimous as their baleen counterparts, but riding on the back of one or the other would have to do. It was better than falling through the pinpoint darkness salting his eyes, ears, nose and mouth.

Where the hell was Law?

"No bodies?" Blackbeard fumed.

Doc and Stronger had bounced across the rocky island grounds when that bear had gone all Sulong and knocked them out. Van Augur's warp range wasn't that great, and was tricky to use above open water.

Over extreme distance, he could still sharpshoot the tip off a hangnail, but the bear was fast. If Van Augur had managed to get a shot in, they could've dealt with the Mink, and pulled the shitty doctor from the water, taken his heart and returned triumphant. Once the flying horse had regained consciousness, of course.

Should've wrenched that fruit from the sadistic prick before any move could be made. But where'd it come from, the Sulong? It was the middle of the day.

At least there'd be bodies. Dragging the mottled, bloated and mutilated corpses of the Hearts through the streets of Hachinosu—any captives forced to pull their comrades—would bring Doflamingo's protégé running. He had a hard-on for vengeance, or so Blackbeard had heard. But there were no bodies. Trafalgar's subordinates had disappeared.

Blackbeard’s slaves salvaged the smiley metal plate and a bunch of trinkets and comic books and bits and pieces of gears and cogs floating through the water, a picture of a young girl missing a tooth. But any blood had washed off, and any life—deceased or not—was not in the area. DEATH lies here, but it was just the submarine’s side plate.

No poneglyphs either. Blackbeard had sent the slaves in again and again, especially the fishmen. A few lost their lives. No trace.

He couldn't even torture the bear or Heart Pirate captain for their whereabouts. And Trafalgar had grinned at him, blood reddening his teeth, when Blackbeard had readied to kill him. Grinned when the challenge had gone down. What was up with that?

Elbaf wasn’t currently welcoming any unannounced visitors. Brogy and Dorry's attack on the Kid pirates had shattered glass and worked new cracks into the walls of a few buildings. They didn't need any more trouble, any more greedy pirates. Although an island of warriors could deal with them swiftly.

However, these strangers rode into an isolated cove on the backs of a whale, a dolphin, and a bear. The mysterious narwhal, the mighty orca, and the ferocious polar bear. The narwhal and orca swam back out to sea after their passengers disembarked, and then swam ashore human.

The villager who witnessed the arrival rushed back to town. In the meantime a soaked, coughing, shivering, shipwrecked group of twenty gathered around a man breathing shallowly; his skin a sickly, sticky, ashen grey, his clothes drenched through, his hair matted and plastered to his face.

Shachi and Ikkaku lay alongside Law. Clione too. The chests of the last heaving from the swim, but the lift of the chest of the captain was intermittent. Bepo lay out on the sand, his form protecting the four from the winds, and the Hearts did their ragged best to collect dry driftwood for a fire. They were adept at igniting the tinder. To survive the cold north winters, the snow sometimes needed melting.

The shapeshifters dried easily, but Law didn't change into seal form when there was danger of drowning from his fruit. The fire spat into the night sky. The crew huddled round, others cuddling the five who needed it most.

Bepo's ears twitched. The Heart on lookout turned at the crunch of pebbles and sand shifting under boots.

The townsfolk, the Hearts guessed, were greeted with raised, wary but weary heads. Bepo apologised. He couldn't move. Law was against his chest and Ikkaku was rolled into him, Shachi against her, Clione against him.

Law's eyes barely opened to the cocking of a gun, the chink of a sword. Cigarette smoke mingled with the burning wood. Coughing, shivering, he sat up, and quickly used his haki to scan the fire, and the beach—was it?—and the people. Twenty-strong? Unbound? His crew. A bulk of white to his side. Bepo, right beside him. One surge of relief after another swept through him, even as his shaking hand tried to form a Room.

"Tch."

Law recognised Benn Beckman, almost in his face. He drew on his cigarette, then exhaled slowly.

"Can't you rookies do anything but cause trouble?"

Law, mouthy at the best of times, remained quiet until he could figure things out, although he couldn't stop himself from grinning. He didn't want a fight, but his crew was free and alive. He tamped down the urge to flip off Shanks' first mate, or whoever-the-fuck-ya got in his way.

A guy stood on the edges of the fire, obscured, but his gun also trained on the group.

"Guess news hasn't got out yet," he said, his hair haloed in the light.

"God-ya?" Law peered into the flickering fire, the darkness, the shapes moving about. "Nose-ya?"

The Straw Hats sure would be a break from Blackbeard. Tony-ya could help with the injured, and Blackleg’s clothes—bound to be a bit short for Law—but the cook’s shirts would fit just fine. There were a few tropical numbers he had his eye on. Law wasn’t keen on decimation, was not ready to defend himself against another emperor. Luck might be on his side.

He narrowed his gaze. A giant man—Roo, Lucky Roo?—slapped Usopp on the back. No, Yasopp. Law clenched one calf muscle then the other, wriggled his toes in the sand, but his body was no help. The breeze chilled his still wet hair. His sword and hat hadn’t made the journey.

Similar to Silvers Rayleigh in the Human Auction House, similar to the skies crackling above Law as Doflamingo and Luffy had fought, a blast of haki rippled over the beach. Law, almost supine again, weak again—in danger of losing his people, again.

The stronger members of the Hearts would've withstood the conqueror's, as they had in Sabaody, but were exhausted from crossing the ocean and asleep. Bepo growled, but it was so very difficult to move.

Akagami no Shanks stepped across the beach, sandals—suited for beach-combing—kicking at stones and twigs. Law's crew had pulled their captain’s shoes off to prevent hypothermia. If Bepo hadn't transported him, and Shachi and Ikkaku the rest, they all would've removed the heavy boots they wore for the sub as they crossed the ocean, if they could have. His team must be barefoot now too.

Law's body screamed with the beatdown from Blackbeard, and even the tiniest flare of a Room meant a spot of healing but it was probably suicide to try now. His ship was gone. The fire warm, but how long would it burn? Where could the Hearts shelter?

"He's okay, Beck." Shanks stared at the marksman, and he lowered his rifle, returning it to a half-cocked position. "Yasopp." Future sight was a useful skill.

Shanks stood in front of the bedraggled rookie. No hat. No sword. Bruised and beaten. Not only from a journey across the waters. His toes dragged the sand but were unable to propel his body upwards to hold his own weight.

Shanks crouched so he was level with him. From the glare and the worry, Shanks saw that this captain had fight even if he couldn't fight. But he wasn't brash like the other one. The warrior mink lay right beside him. Captain Jean Bart on the outskirts of the group kept a watchful eye.

Together with the now disposed Captain Kid, the shivering man in front of him had brought down Big Mom. No small feat.

"What news do you bring on Blackbeard, Captain Trafalgar Law?"

Law was thankful to wake in bedding. A futon rolled out on the floor. Thankful not to wake in chains. Bepo was warm and in the room near him, and he guessed that they'd been put in a giant's house. They had to be on Elbaf, because his crew in various shapes and forms slumbered nearby in comfort and with room to spare.

He sat up with a sharp inhalation, but felt better than he had on the beach. He wore a loose black t-shirt and—he lifted the covers—black drawstring pants. Dry and comfortable. He waited for a rush of dizziness to pass as he stood, then walked across the room, stepping over Penguin and Uni, and slipped through the entrance to seek out his host, to see what Shanks wanted, if anything. To see if he could get to work, with no interference, using the ope ope no mi.

Along a wide corridor, he stepped into a room and immediately grabbed for his nodachi, then, grasping at air, scoured the room for it. If it wasn't over his shoulder, it was usually in Bepo's hold, or resting against a surface. Law dropped his hand and folded his arms over his chest, scanning the room for a weapon. A navy admiral's jacket hung on the wall. Had the Red-Haired Pirates sold them out for their bounties? But there were no chains, no shackles. No torture, yet. The ground shook, and Law looked down the hallway.

"Dereshishishishi." A giant, huge orange beard, cowboy hat like a pimple on a pumpkin, entered the room. Law looked up, and up and up. "Don't mind that! Just a reminder from days long gone."

Law backed up as the giant made himself at home, crouched down, then sat, legs crossed.

"Jaguar D. Saul." The giant held out a pinky and Law shook it, or at least squished some skin.

"Trafalgar Law," Law filed away the D and hid his amazement. Robin's friend. Alive. Unlike himself unless he got to work. "This your home?"

"Could say that."

Law nodded. "I need to to cast a room—my power,” he cupped his hand downwards and without thinking moved it in circles, “A procedure to heal—“ He closed the curled hand into a fist. “—myself and my crew." Law knew it was abrupt but he didn't have time. "It's not to hurt anyone or fuck things up." He wanted to make sure that Shanks, or whoever, knew he wasn't trying to start anything. The talent of that crew was insane and they'd sense it if he fired up the ope ope no mi. “Room’s part of my fruit, and it screws with outsiders, does their heads in, if they enter its sphere, or even witness it.”

Saul stared at the Hearts captain. He barely seemed steady on his feet, and his dark hair and haunted eyes reminded him of the woman he knew Law had been sailing with.

"Right," Saul said. The boy was cut up good and Saul was aware of his powers. That they didn't only heal, but also had a few lines in slice and dice.

”Blackbeard's gig sucks out spirit and devil fruit elements." Law shoved his hands in his pockets so the giant wouldn't see the shake. "Invades the body simultaneously."

"You faced down Blackbeard?"

Law clicked his tongue. "He faced me down.” Left him face up, though, yet still defeated. He focused on a swirl of darkness flitting about his body, not dissimilar to the way he’d isolated small deposits of amber lead on Swallow island. Pain and nausea swept through him. He caught his breath.

"His power, Blackbeard's power, resists mine, and once I extract it I need to neutralise it so it doesn't call its master, doesn't affect others." Law sat on the floor himself and leant against one of the giant's toes. He was so tired. Saul bet he'd not usually lean against a new acquaintance so readily. Especially their feet.

"You managed so far. What'd you use?"

"Willpower."

"Haki," Saul said. He ran a thumb along his jawline. "I don't see you smiling too much, Trafalgar Law."

Law shook his head. How was it related? "Had a shock." What was there to smile about? "I'm worried." It strained his neck to crane it upwards, but gauging Saul’s intent was important.

"When I'm worried, the best thing to do is laugh."

Law grimaced. There had to be some humans on the island, other than the Red-Hairs. His feet were warm in socks, his clothes fit and the fabrics soothed physical and mental cuts. Saul raised his eyes at the expression.

"Memories?"

"I used to be Doflamingo's subordinate." Joker's leer mingled with the inky sludge working Law's veins.

"Ah, I mean genuine laughter."

Law held his wrist, rubbing a thumb along the veins, hoping to boost his own circulation and marrow. "I'm not really the humorous type."

Saul thought of serious little Robin again. Her wonder at laughter. The way her laugh made him chuckle.

"Your crew's pretty cheery."

They'd been wiped out but still joking as his workers and friends brought them to the guest lodge.

Law didn't deny it.

"Maybe you are too. Maybe It's a quiet thing, right?" Maybe untapped. And there was a flash in the stranger's eyes. That lighting of hope and curiosity he'd seen in a small girl who gave him a loaf of bread, no larger than his fingernail, stolen from her kitchen table.

"Get your crew in here." Saul had never seen a good-natured crew as a whole with a tyrannical captain.

"Don't want to expose them."

"It'll be fine. I promise."

And what choice did they have? How could Law call himself a captain and a pirate without a ship? How could he even think of escaping without a vessel? Even Luffy’s fanboy had one. Blackbeard had been right. Without the Polar Tang the Heart Pirates were nothing. Or was that the effect of the yami yami no mi talking?

If the blackness got too much, maybe he'd quickly absorb it again, and he'd fight it hard but he'd do it alone in that case. Any attempts to rid his body of his own misfortune wouldn't involve the loss of any more family.

Jaguar D. Saul rested against a wall of the main area reserved for entertaining guests. Human and giant-sized mats, indoor plants, vases of flowers and other creature comforts dotted the room. The giants had enough visitors that they catered for all. The Hearts mostly rested against the walls too. Quiet, subdued, but in better shape than their captain.

The clothes the villagers had gathered for them while their boiler suits were mended, if they could be, jostled in a haphazard flurry of colour and style. Ikkaku wore a head scarf Shanks had left behind.

Penguin started the ball rolling. He told the best jokes. The Hearts were fatigued, washed out, and they'd lost the Tang, but here they were. They’d made it together.

"…and so, y'know, like who doesn't like umeboshi?"

Law had a personal Room up and prodded through his body for the substance trying to alter him, poisoning his blood. He winced as he struck a build up.

"I don't," piped up some brave soul—Law would say sensible—hidden by Jean Bart's frame.

"Yeah, it's not everyone's cup of tea."

"Rosinante liked it though," Saul bellowed, it was one of his favourites.

Law was grateful for the huge man. Not only Robin's mentor, but he'd known Cora. A young Cora. Before he'd rejoined Doflamingo. Saul had mentioned him when Law brought up the Donquixote name.

Penguin scratched at his cap, a survivor of the shipwreck, and wondered just what Law and the giant had talked about.

"Yah, well, you can't really call yourself North Blue if you dislike umeboshi." Penguin pointedly didn't look at Law. "I mean what tough guy doesn't like it? Only wimps can't handle it. And whenever Captain accidentally eats an umeboshi he goes like this…"

Back pushed into the wall so all could see, Penguin screwed his face into a sour puckered, closed-eyed scowl…his shipmates crowed with laughter.

"Yeah, yeah…," Ikkaku banged the floor with her hand. "He's got his mussed-up hair, mean mother tatts, lounges about like a jazz-cool cat and then," she pulled the same expression as Penguin, but with her curled-tongue spin on it. "Umeboshi?" she said, dropping her voice a pitch, "In the onigiri?!" She slashed her arms around. "Gonna cut you up. Gonna cut you so bad."

Law had to laugh, and there, a little bit of blackness dissipated and left his body and he sighed in relief. Saul made a mental note to let the chefs know about onigiri preference.

Shachi's turn. He was always funny because he couldn't stop snorting and snickering as he wove his tales. "So Captain didn't have his fruit under control when we first met, and there was a time that he replaced the sugar with salt for practice and forgot to change them back, and old man Wolf—he's the guy that looked after us—," Shachi said to Saul, then turned back to the Hearts, "—His coffee was saltier than all the Four Blues."

"You did that, Shachi," Bepo said.

"Yeah, Shachi. Stop placing your misdeeds on Law's head."

"Big-headed enough to carry 'em," Uni joked.

"Maybe that's where Law learnt the umeboshi face?" Shachi said, and scrunched up his features with a chuckle so loud that it couldn't help but lighten the room and another loop of black unfurled and transformed into the good mood surrounding the Hearts, and dissipated. Law breathed so much more easily, and his own power crept back in. Saul noted colour returning to his cheeks.

"Tell me about Nico Robin," Saul said. "She had a lovely laugh."

Law nodded. She did. It was a little hard to relay while he was concentrating on the contagion, so Hakugan stepped in.

"We were on Zou and Mugiwara had a party and the night and day side of Zou met for the first time in decades."

"The two leaders had reunited," Bepo murmured.

"That's right."

The giants were good hosts, and visitors came from all over to Elbaf, so there were human-sized goods and produce, and even human-sized folks around to operate and disperse them, so food and beer of consumable-sized portions were passed around.

Hakugan sipped an ale.

"This one," he jerked his thumb Law's way, noting Shachi eyeing the way that Law scanned one part of his body and then the next, "Was having some sword…"

"Dick," Clione interjected.

"…measuring conversation with Roronoa." Hakugan assumed Saul knew Robin's crew if he knew Robin. Luffy was an emperor now. World infamous.

Law's face didn't quite match his pickled plum expression, and the dimple gave away the amusement he tried to hide in an aggrieved glance. It was much easier to read his expression when he wasn't wearing his cap. The crew relaxed as Law's health slowly but surely improved.

"And Straw Hat's crew was…"

"Straw Hat's crew, right!?" Uni said.

"So, y'know—" and Hakugan waved his hands about his head, shaking his head and body from side to side.

"Like you were any better," Bepo interjected. He was sure Hakugan had stuck chopsticks up his nose.

"Like you were!" The crew turned on him, and everyone laughed at Bepo's apology.

"She—" Penguin levelled a finger Ikkaku's way.

"Goo-goo eyes at the navigator for sure."

"Have you seen her!?" Ikkaku shouted, mock swooning, and maybe only Saul and Law noticed the smoky substance leave him and the way it faded into something far more benign before drifting away.

"About Nico Robin?" Saul asked.

"Oh yeah. So three of them snuck off." Hakugan lifted his mask for another sip of brew. "Dubbed themselves the mature trio.

"There was a ninja on the island, and we didn't know, cos we were outsiders, but Kaidou's forces had come looking for him, and they hurt us bad. They hurt the people on the island really bad."

The room darkened a little and a flicker of Law's eyes was the only indication of pain.

"But half of the Straw Hats came during that dark time, Captain wasn't with them. And that tanuki—"

"—the one who gave Bepo the power to Sulong—"

"—in the middle of the day." Everyone looked Bepo's way and he preened then looked at the ground and over at Law. The corners of Law's eyes crinkled at his old friend.

"Saved us all."

"Along with Caesar," Law said.

"The war criminal?" Saul asked.

"Aren't we all?"

"Not me, Cap.”

"Me neither."

"Yeah, I think that's you."

"You getting warlord and war criminal mixed up?" Law responded, pushing his shirt sleeve up over his upper arm.

"Same-same, right?"

Law grunted—those pirates Blackbeard spoke of wanting their hearts back. Jean Bart had a point. No time to think about it now as a particularly stubborn blockage caterpillared under his skin before dislodging, but it did dislodge and then depart, transform and whirl around the room like a sea breeze. His eyes sharpened in focus.

"Nico-ya," Law said, steering the Hearts back on track.

"Not a war criminal."

"No."

"Definitely not," Law and Saul agreed in unison.

"Anyway, Law and the rest of the Straw Hats finally arrived after Dressrosa fell, and Law had told us there were samurai trying to get onto Zou—samurai he'd travelled with—and we thought, everyone thought, it'd traumatise the Minks if they succeeded."

"The Minks didn’t even tell me," Bepo said with a bowed head, “That it was a front. That they loved the samurai.”

"Kaidou's forces, searching for a samurai-ninja, killed, maimed and tortured the Minks," Law informed Saul, "Before any of us arrived. Except my crew."

A jeer went through the group and cries of it was just as well we'd been there and the damage would've been worse without us. And the damage had been extreme. Law was glad they'd fought and survived. Bitter irony if they hadn't survived, considering he'd sent them away for their safety before he took on Doflamingo. He knew their protests were their way of reassuring him.

"On the night of the party," Hakugan continued, "I thought I better follow the three in case they were planning on leading the samurai to the dukedom."

"Two samurai we met in Punk Hazard knew the samurai-ninja, but none of the allies were wise to it," Law added for Saul. "We didn't enter the country at the same time."

Hakugan remembered the dark night and the spongey paths of Zou dipping under his feet. "It seemed the trio were on the lookout for the same thing. To make sure the samurai didn't surprise anyone."

"You left the party for that?"

Clione poured a new beer into Uni's stein and he retuned the favour.

"Your story isn't very interesting so far."

Hakugan ignored his ignorant and, quite frankly, rude crewmates.

"So, their conversation was easy to hear and they were gonna stay awake and tell the samurai there was no point entering the country cos' they'd just upset everyone, and Nico Robin suggested taking turns to keep watch, but the Cyborg—"

"Franky."

"And the skeleton."

"Brook," Ikkaku added.

”Whatever, Franky and Brook said they should all stay awake together."

"Mhmm," Saul said.

"And you know what happened?"

Everyone shook their heads.

"They all fell asleep and the samurai came in anyway!"

The silence wasn't the kind that hurt, except perhaps poor Hakugan's ego. Law smiled. His newest member was terrible at telling jokes and stories. But the helsman's quiet giggles let them know that one person was amused. The last taint of Blackbeard's fruit left Law’s body and Bepo caught Law with ease as he slumped to the floor. Law depleting himself of all energy from overusing his devil's fruit happened on a fairly regular and worrying basis. He was asleep.

When Law slept deep he slept deep and he so rarely slept that way. Penguin, Shachi and Bepo had witnessed it before though—after he'd operated on their caretaker, Wolf, the owner of the Polar Tang, the submarine he'd gifted to them.

Law would wake, healed, refreshed and stronger than before. While he slept, the Hearts took care of each other's aches and pains and some of the villagers too. They shooed Shachi, Ikkaku, Clione and Bepo to rest as well, for as long as it took them to recharge.

Law cracked one eye open and then the other to a wall of books, row upon row of them. He sat, curled into a comfortable armchair. Rubbed sleep from his eye.

"Captain."

Law turned his head, blanket to his chin, knees tipped into the corner of the very spacious chair. Jean Bart sat on the floor of the great room, and documents, not opened, rested on the floor in front of him.

"Have some water."

Law turned his head to the other side of the chair. The giant, Robin's friend, let Law struggle up and pick a glass of water, tiny against his palm, from his hand. He drank it down.

"The crew?" he asked, turning back to Jean Bart.

He nodded. A-okay. "No hint of Blackbeard."

"Think Shanks is going after him?"

Jean Bart lifted his eyebrows but didn't answer. Didn’t know. The Red-hairs had left them on the beach and the Hearts hadn’t been sure of survival. The sea gales or high tide might get them before their enemies did. But half an hour or so later the giants gathered the castaways up and took them in. Bepo had sunk his teeth into the juicy flesh of a thumb, but the Giant carrying him (and his unconscious captain) just ruffled the Mink's fur.

In the room, Law stood, the blanket falling from his lap. Not blanket. Coat. His blue coat. He waved a hand at Saul in gratitude and picked it up from the floor—all dizziness gone—and fought the urge to push his face into its feathered collar. He placed it over the back of the chair.

Dropping one shoulder, and tilting his neck, and then the other, and tilting his neck, he loosened the cricks and tightness along his spine and body. He thanked Saul for the water and made his way to Jean Bart.

"All these books?" he asked Saul, gesturing at the shelving.

"Nico Robin's probably read them all."

Law's eyes widened. "The books of Ohara?"

"From the Tree of Knowledge." Saul recalled the rescue. It was the one thing he could do to remember Nico Olvia.

Law's joy was real, as was his awe. The scholars' loss of life, their sacrifice had been for something. Robin's legacy still existed.

"You're a D.,” he said to Saul.

"Yup. Got that in my name." Saul watched Law pace the shelves, from one wall to the other.

Law didn't think he'd have enough time, or life, to read everything, but if he used his fruit's Scan, he could probably store or glean the important elements. What he'd give to rest and read and discover.

He stood next to Jean Bart. On the floor in front of him, bound with twine, sat the rubbings they'd collected of the road poneglyphs: the copies he and Robin had taken of the one on Onigashima, that he'd then shared with Eustass Kid. The ones the Straw Hats had shared with him from Whole Cake Island, and the ones from Zou.

"I…" He sat next to Jean Bart, cross-legged, tiny beside him. He took a breath, ran a hand through his hair, unsettled by the absence of his cap. He only ever lost it when things went to shit. Or the Hearts hid it from him. 

He looked up at Saul. "My crew came to Elbaf together." Giants had pretty good hearing, which was just as well for Law. "For them to survive Blackbeard was the only thing I prayed for."

Jean Bart grunted. Captain wasn't a praying man, but they'd all felt the same way.

"The Polar Tang—our ship—she's gone. And Junk-ya, an old man, gifted it to me and my three oldest friends—Bepo, the Mink, and the dummies telling jokes before." Law didn’t know whether he’d slept a few hours or a few days.

Saul tipped his tiny hat. Knew Law didn't mean the guy with the mask.

"And the submarine's been a home away from home." Law paused. A shudder rolled through Jean Bart. When the explosives ripped through the Polar Tang it had torn them all apart too. When they were recovered, they'd give her a proper farewell.

"And Junk-ya—Wolf—he was a home many times removed for me too."

Saul thought of that young girl that he couldn't help. Running from one city to another. He was glad this one had received some love.

"Survived a few shipwrecks in my time too," Saul nodded, and the loss of a ship was a great grief, but loss of life was more.

Law ducked his head.

"So, third on a list of things I didn't want to lose were the poneglyphs." And Kikoku. But she'd find her way back to him. "But so be it. If this bunch escaped the destruction of our ship...the loss of the poneglyphs is painful, but ultimately, nothing." But here they were. Unfathomable. And the poneglyphs had been. Eluding the ocean and Blackbeard. Law looked up at Saul to see if it was okay to untie the twine. To the victor goes the spoils.

"They're yours," the giant grinned.

Law didn't know what to say. Thanks didn't seem enough. He tapped his chest.

"Friend of Robin," Saul added.

"She's piecing together the true history."

"Dereshishishishi, for sure."

"Nico-ya taught me what to look for. How to recognise the poneglyphs." Law tugged at the twine, and a flash of the poneglyph guarded in the depths of the Whale Tree in Zou, and the mysterious poneglyph below the surface of Wano, crossed his mind. "The important ones." Snatches of their conversation on the outskirts of the Kozuki castle ruins replayed as he took in the copies.

Saul knew she wouldn't share the information easily. "She trusts you."

"Yah," Law said, "Likewise."

"Seems I gotta trust you too, then."

Law looked up with a smile that Saul thought bore hints of Sengoku's adopted son. He had to look away for a second. Not as bright. Guarded. Not as ready to play the fool to fool the player. But his heart, Law's heart, Rosinante's heart was in it.

"I too,” Law said, reaching for the records, “Share that initial.”