#I've had parts of this draft prepped for so long that it's the old post UI this is wild
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fly little seagull, that rock can be home - Part 1
I’m back! With another Trafalgar Nauja fic! [*confetti*] I was working on this alongside fly little seagull, you’re too far from the nest, because I’m apparently a sadist, but I knew I couldn’t let 13k words go to waste, and now it’s over 30k words and counting after being distracted by a bunch of other things, and although I didn’t set out to make this series a choose-your-own-adventure with Law and this OC child, that’s what it’s turned into and I wish I could say I’m sorry but I’m not in the slightest.
8568 words to start; deviates from the main story in the second section of the third chapter (so, like, 17.5k words in) and then this storyline effectively replaces the rest of the main fic in this continuum; tldr: Law is morphing into a little kid’s Cora-san and is about to say what he thinks is his final goodbye to her pre-Dressrosa; much slower in pace than the other variations of this fic, but also will be much steamier and domestic; there are so many fcking OCs in this that it’s almost just Law in OC Land for a long while and I am not sorry; shout out to all in the Rare Pears server for putting up with me and my nonsense they are true fandom heroes lol, as is Rimetin for being this fic’s first victim
fly little seagull, that rock can be home; Law is about to leave the Polar Tang as he heads to certain Death on Dressrosa. Then he goes to say goodbye to one specific person, only for half a lifetime’s worth of motivation to vanish in an instant. [AU where Law acquires a kid and realize the true gift Cora-san wanted for him]
The girl’s words piqued his interest. “You want to do medical illustrations?”
“Yeah! Well, I still want to be a doctor, like you, but I also want to be able to do drawings! I’m not very good at those yet, but I’m gonna practice real hard!” She pulled another drawing from her desk and showed him; it was a copy of an illustration of a hand’s skeletal structure from one of his textbooks. “See? I’m not good at that yet, but I’m still learning, right?”
“You are,” he agreed, chest filling with pride. “This is wonderful, Nauja-ya. You are very talented.” He watched as she put them away and sat next to him.
“What did you want to talk about?” she wondered. “Are we going to an island where I have to behave extra? I don’t like those islands.”
“No, actually…” He swallowed hard. “I’m…” He saw her face and all the happiness and joy it contained, melting away his prior conviction. How could he chose dying at the hands of Doflamingo over raising this child? Was getting revenge for Cora-san worth throwing away the gifts the man had given him in the first place? Maybe what he owed that foul-mouthed, accident-prone, absolute flaming mess of a spy—who was honestly the best spy he had ever seen—was to live and love. That that would be the best revenge levied on a man who never understood either. He still didn’t wholly understand why he did it after all these years, but maybe… just maybe… taking care of this kid would give him the answers… could help him with his guilt… might finally give him some peace.
If nowhere was safe from Donquixote Doflamingo, then he was simply going to have to run until they found nowhere.
“You and I are going to have to take a special trip soon, away from the Tang,” he said. “Be prepared to pack in the morning, alright? It’s going to be an adventure.”
Nauja’s eyes lit up. An adventure?! With just her and Law-san?! This was going to be the best!
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
They didn’t often get new visitors in Hinba, which was one of the first things that the barman noticed about the pair. It had been a rainy evening when they arrived—not storming, just the steady, reliable autumn rain that could lull a person to sleep. It seemed fairly normal a night until they walked in: a tallish man with a piercing glare, both a pack and a sword slung across his back, and a small child hiding under his feathered cloak. They both appeared to be worn from travel, though the man more so. He let the child find a table near the back and he went up to the bar, the proprietor now able to see the dark circles under his eyes and the glint of two rings on a chain hiding in the unbuttoned folds of his shirt.
“Food and drink, please,” the man said, “and a room if you have one.” His accent was something near-completely foreign to the barman, making him stop for a moment. The stranger caught his hesitation and spoke slower. “You do serve food here, yes?”
“We do; just don’t normally get strangers, is all,” the barman shrugged. “We’re a bit out of the way for most, and even the trade routes aren’t always consistent.”
“Is there a doctor around?”
“You in need of one?”
“No, but I am one, and I’ve been looking for a place to set up shop where I can fill a void. A good physician upholding their oath means that everyone gets care.”
“I see.” The barman put a glass of beer and a bottle of pop on the counter. “Any requests for that food?”
“No allergies, but I’m not fond of bread or pickled things.”
“…and is the kid picky?”
“No; my daughter is less picky than I am if you’ll believe it.” The man took the drinks, tattoos spelling DEATH across his knuckles flashing in the low lamplight. “Do you have a room? I’d like to not sleep on our ship tonight.”
“Yeah, I can get you a real bed, but you’ll have to share. It’ll be ready by the time you’re done eating.”
The stranger nodded in silent thanks and took the drinks over to the corner where the child had already set up with what looked like a book and drawing set. It was curious, but then again, things did rarely happen on their island.
“What do you think is up with him?” one of the regulars wondered. The barman watched as the stranger put the drinks down and settled into a chair with his back to the wall.
“None of our business,” he shrugged. He watched the strange man for a moment, taking note of his interactions with the child. She was completely at-ease and he seemed tired by simply looking at her—yes, that was a father and his daughter. “Maybe we’ll find out eventually.”
“What, do you think they’ll stay?”
“Nearest doctor’s been a three-day sail for a long time now; there’s a chance.”
“With that bedside manner? No fucking thanks.”
“Eh, that’s not our decision to make.” The barman then put down the glass that he had been cleaning and went into the kitchen, getting two plates of food. He brought them out to the strangers, chuckling as he saw the girl’s eyes light up happily. “Hungry, kid?”
“Yeah!” She put aside what she was working on and bounced up and down in her seat. Huh… she was drawing what looked like a medical diagram… “Thanks for the food, Barman-ya!”
“Eat up, buttercup,” the barman said. Huh. Her accent wasn’t like her father’s, though it was clearly influenced by it. “So… where you strangers from?”
“Here and there,” the man replied. “We used to live on the Grand Line, but we needed a change of scenery.”
“The Grand Line…? Must have been an adventure getting to these southern waters…”
“It was.” The man took a careful bite of his food and tried to ignore the barman. When he realized the conversation wasn’t entirely over, he glanced up. “Yes…?”
“Just… nothing. You must have a familiar face.”
“He looks like a pirate!” the kid sad cheerily around her food.
“Famke…” the man warned with a gentle sternness.
“Well, you do…!” she insisted before turning towards the barman. “Vaor’s not that guy, but lots of people think he’s that guy, because the person who takes the bounty photos is bad at it. He tried complaining but it’s no good.”
“Is that so?” the barman chuckled. He could see the man’s face get dark with blush—it was obviously a sore point. “Well, don’t worry, kiddo; even if your da here was some big-shot, we don’t give a shite about that.”
“You don’t…?”
“Last time I checked, the World Government doesn’t give a damn about us, so the least we can do is make it mutual,” the barman explained. It was faint, but he could see the kid’s father relax a little in the shoulders. Ah—so he was concerned about that; no wonder. “You could round up more than a couple bounties here on Diura… just saying.”
“Then I’m sure you are more than underserved from a medical standpoint if you take such an attitude towards piracy,” the stranger said. He then nudged his daughter’s shoulder with the back of his hand to get her attention. “Chew with your mouth closed.” He sounded as though it was something he’d already said well over a thousand times in her life and would likely say a thousand more.
“…but Vaor…!”
The barman didn’t stick around to hear the end of the argument; their first new visitors in a long time needed a place to sleep.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Later on, upstairs in their rented room, Law and Nauja were getting ready for bed. They were separated by a changing screen as the girl pulled on her pajamas, her father already in a fresh pair of shorts as he sorted through the contents of his pack.
“Is this the place we’re gonna stay?” she wondered from behind the screen.
“It might be,” he replied. She came out with her day clothes neatly folded and placed them on a chair before climbing atop the bed. “We don’t have too much left if we want to have the money to start a clinic when we do settle.”
“What are you looking for?”
“The Den Den.” He then found the transponder snail’s shell—it was sleeping—and placed it in a tray on the nightstand with some lettuce. “Can’t ignore that for too long.”
“…or we can’t call my uncles!”
“Correct.” He waited until Nauja was under the bedding before he handed her Professor Nanuk so he could replace everything else in the pack. “Go to sleep now, famke.”
“Vaor…?”
“Hmm…?”
“How did you meet Moetje?”
He looked at her as she rested herself against her pillow, hugging her stuffed toy tightly. It was a practical move, he knew that much, but it was still disarming. If there was anyone listening in on them—and he would have been surprised if no one was—they could mistake his hesitation for a widow’s melancholy, especially if they stayed and the rest of their story ended up sticking.
“We were in classes together,” he replied gently, deciding on a story. “It’s easy to not pay attention to who else is in the room when you’re in med school because you’re trying to concentrate on not failing, but partway through our first term I finally looked behind me and there she was…” He put their pack on the table and went into the bed, glad for how warm Nauja was against the chill of the rain. Reaching back into his memory, he tried to remember the name of a classmate… someone he barely recalled, but knew needed a memorial… because all of Flevance did. “Antje was a year older than me, and my fifteen-year-old heart couldn’t take how pretty she was.”
“Yeah… Moetje was pretty, wasn’t she?”
“She really was.” Fuck… he didn’t even know if he liked women, let alone anyone at all. That was something he might figure out now that he was a civilian… he just needed to find where they were going to settle first. “Go to sleep, alright? We have a lot to do tomorrow.”
“Mmmhmm…” She burrowed in close and quickly drifted off, her hand unconsciously reaching for the rings still on the chain on his neck. “I love you, Law-san.”
“I love you too, Nauja-ya,” he whispered back. He opened a Room long enough to turn off the lights and tried to go to sleep himself, though he knew it would be light and fitful as it had been since they left the Tang.
What the fuck had he gotten himself into?
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
“I’ve made an important decision,” he told the late-night collection of his crew. “I cede captainship of the Heart Pirates and am going to live a civilian life.”
The entire mess hall was so quiet one could almost hear everyone breathing.
“Wait… what?!” Penguin abruptly stood, absolutely flabbergasted. “What the fuck?!”
“What got into your head?” Shachi asked. He stared down the younger man, trying to get a read on his face. “This was not part of the plan.”
“What plan?” Jean Bart asked.
“Yeah, what plan?”
“What’s going on?”
“What aren’t you telling us?”
“Quiet,” Law insisted, the room going silent again. “I was supposed to leave tonight to enact a plan to take out Donquixote Doflamingo and his criminal operation at its roots. Penguin, Shachi, and Bepo were supposed to be in charge while I did that anyhow. Everyone was supposed to hide in the Mokomo Dukedom until after it was safe…” He swallowed. “…well after I died at his hands.”
“Why fuck with Doflamingo?” Clione wondered. “Man’s a psychopath, sure, and what do we care that he’s an underworld broker? We just know what to avoid.”
“Doflamingo killed someone important to me once,” Law explained frankly, “and the past thirteen years of my life have been about me figuring out how to get revenge. I was saying my goodbyes to Nauja and…” he sighed, choking up, “…I can’t do it. I spent half my life meticulously planning how I was going to go out in a blaze of glory as I possibly killed one man… and I realized that, as I looked at Nauja, I didn’t know what I was going to do if I survived… that I didn’t know if I could ever forgive myself for choosing death over raising her.” He felt hot tears stream down his cheeks as he licked his lips and avoided looking at anyone else in the crew. This was more information than he ever wanted to share, but knew that if anyone deserved it, it was them. “That person… he’d want me to live… to raise a child while growing older than my father ever got the chance to be… because that’s what he wanted to do with me when I was a kid…”
“…but Doflamingo denied you both that,” Jean Bart said, his voice grave and even. “Nauja is a chance to have that life and honor the one who saved you. A gentle revenge.”
“Can’t we just help you take him down?!” someone asked. Law shook his head.
“To go up against Doflamingo is choosing dying at his hands rather than raising her; I’d never forgive myself, more so if any of you were involved.”
“…but what if we wanted to help raise her too?”
“Please, just… let me be selfish. I just realized that I have a chance to truly be free of all this and… I can never repay you all for what you’ve done, so please…”
Law was cut off by the scraping of a chair against the floor. Everyone looked and saw that Bepo was now standing, tears in the Mink’s eyes.
“You’re going to have to tell us all about how the two of you are doing on a regular basis,” he insisted. “If we can’t be there, then we at least deserve that much.”
“Bepo, I…”
“I’m going to miss you,” the navigator cried. He lumbered up to his captain—no, his best friend—and tackled him in a shaky hug. “What would I have done without you?”
“Electrocute the goobers before you entered your teens?”
“You know what the bear means,” Penguin interjected. He and Shachi looked at one another, then Law. “Are you sure this is what you want to do?”
Law nodded, croaking out a tiny “Yeah.”
“Dreams change all the fucking time,” Shachi shrugged. “Sometimes all it takes is chasing one to realize you were after something else all along. Right?”
The thing was that he didn’t realize how right his words were.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Morning came, bringing sunshine with it. Law and Nauja soon found themselves in the village leader’s office, the greying woman in early middle-age staring them both down. Here was this strange, tattooed man explaining that he was a surgeon who wished to set up a practice, with a young girl at his side almost too old to be the daughter he claimed she was if he was not already lying about his own age.
“You are both strangers,” she reiterated, “and have yet been in town for an entire day. How am I to trust you with my people’s medical needs, of all things, under such circumstances? We’ve dealt with only a midwife on the island for well over fifteen years, so why stop now?”
“All I want is to give my daughter a stable life away from bad memories,” Law said. The village leader—Torilsbur Dervla according to the nameplate on the desk—did not seem like someone who could be easily convinced, which made him glad they prepared in advance. “You don’t have a doctor on the island and I can fill that void.”
“You already said you are a surgeon. I am not so ill-informed that I don’t know the difference.”
“My training and real-world experience meant I functioned as a hybrid family practitioner and surgeon—I am more than qualified to run a small hospital, let alone a rural clinic.”
“Of course.” She stared at his hands and frowned. “By what organization?”
“I began my formal training in what was Drum Kingdom, though I finished in Water 7. Plenty of fieldwork supplemented what I couldn’t learn in the classroom.”
“Couldn’t handle the strain?”
“No… the king had a poor idea of what public health should be and banished nearly all the medical practitioners—doctors, surgeons, nurses, researchers, you name it. The prestige might have returned when it became Sakura Kingdom, but my wife and I always wanted to help real people, not be locked away in a research tower.”
“…and she is…?”
“Moetje died,” Nauja said frankly. “That’s why we can’t stay in Water 7 anymore. Vaor called this a ‘fresh start’.”
“Then there is the question of you, Lawsdottir Nauja,” Dervla mused. “I know you must look like your mother, but I still have to note how the resemblance between you and your father is minimal.”
“Ma’am…? Why did you call me that…?”
“Lawsdottir? We don’t use family names here since not everyone is born with one, so that is how we trace our lineage, using son and dottir and bur. You are his daughter, thus Lawsdottir.”
“So I am Lawsdottir, and Vaor is Corasson?”
“If one of your grandparents was named Cora, then yes.”
Law watched Nauja consider this before nodding. “I… I don’t know if I could do it now, but could I go by Antjesdottir? Maybe later?”
“That would be up to you and your father,” Dervla said. Law saw her expression soften slightly before she turned back to him. “You really want to stay here?”
“With your permission—we won’t stay where we’re not wanted.”
“It’s true that a good doctor’s a long way off from here, and a good surgeon even further. I can show you where you can set up your practice, but understand that we do not accept strangers into our folds easily. You could live here until she is grown and you would still be the Lvneelish surgeon and his daughter, here for seas-knows-why.”
“You try leaving home as I did and attempt going back, with a child at that. No… I’d like for this to be our home. We would do well here.”
“I’m warning you now: although we are not poor, what we do have is of little interest to most. Aside from fishermen, there’s mostly sheep and potato and goat farmers around these parts, and while some of us won’t pay in beri, others won’t pay at all.”
“A doctor finds a way,” Law stated. Dervla nodded at him, now fully convinced.
“Come with me then, Doctor Corasson Law, Miss Lawsdottir Nauja, and I can bring you to where the last doctor used to live. If we’re lucky, you might still be able to make use of some of her things.”
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
With the night sky above them shining brightly, the little dinghy’s occupants sat quietly as the currents and wind gently guided the craft further into the South Blue. Nauja held Professor Nanuk in her arms as she stared up at the sky, taken in by the swirls and glittering specks above them.
“It’s so pretty,” she marveled. “Why don’t we ever see the sky like this when the Polar Tang is above water? There’s so many…”
“Whenever we use lights at night, it disrupts our ability to see the stars,” Law explained. He looked at her as she stared wide-eyed at the sky. “You like it?”
“I love it, Law-san!” she gasped. “I wonder if anyone else in the crew has seen the sky like this! I’ll have to ask when we get back!” When she turned her attention towards him, however, she tilted her head in confusion. “Why are you sad?”
“Nauja… we’re not going back to the Tang.” He saw her hug her toy a bit tighter in the starlight. “We’re going to find a place to stay, and then live there.”
“Wait… you mean… forever…?”
“For as long as we need to; if that’s forever, then it’s forever. Most likely we’ll need to move after a few years, but I won’t try to make it often.”
“Why…?”
“…because it’s too dangerous to keep constantly traveling, especially in a big group. The whole crew wants you to grow up in a good place, and I realized recently that place is probably not a pirate ship in the New World.” She stared at him, silent, and he tried not to panic. “Listen, I know I’m…” Fuck, this was awkward. “I know I’m not your real dad, but while we’re doing this, we should probably at least pretend like I am so no nosy aunties try anything.”
“Law-san… you are my real dad,” Nauja replied. There was an uncomfortable silence between them, the only sounds being the waves against the sides of the ship. “My first dad… he wasn’t like you. He wasn’t mean, but…” She avoided eye contact, instead seeming very interested in what was going on behind Professor Nanuk’s ear. “What did you call your dad? In Flevench?”
“Vaor, Vader, Papa…”
“My dad wasn’t mean, but he also didn’t really like me,” Nauja said, her head bobbing in a nod. “My vaor loves me, because he teaches me, and tells me I’m good and smart, and does things to protect me that my dad would have never done. You gave up the crew for me… and I don’t know why, other than that you’re my vaor… and he would have never done that.”
“Come here,” he requested, holding open his arms. The little girl stepped forward and allowed herself to be enveloped in his grasp, both glad that the hug was so warm against the cool night air. “You know, Cora-jiisan… I didn’t understand why he cared about me either. I thought that maybe it was pity for my situation, or out of fear of my name, but I look at you and I know… I know why he lov… why he cared for me so unconditionally, why he died to keep me alive and free.”
“…why…?”
“…because I think… that when he looked at me… he saw hope.” He leaned his head back until it tapped against the mast and he was looking up at the foreign night sky, so different than the stars he and Cora-san navigated by. “He saw hope that the bad man who eventually killed him wouldn’t win… that there could still be good that came from all the terrible things we had seen and done. Cora-jiisan needed me just as much as I needed him.”
“Does that mean that you need me as much as I need you?”
“In our way, yes,” he assured. He looked down at her and saw that she was happy and content. A frown then formed on her face, which he echoed. “What is it?”
“Who was the bad man who killed Cora-jiisan?”
“His name is Donquixote Doflamingo, and he was supposed to be his brother.” They weren’t pirates anymore, yet it was still important she knew what not to trust. “He is a very mean, cruel man who is sick in the head and will do anything to get revenge for Cora-jiisan and me running away if he finds us… if he finds out that you exist. Even if we stuck to being on the Tang, you’d be in danger should he find you and realize that you’re my famke… that I’m your vaor…”
“Oh!” she gasped. “I know this is a different subject, but does this mean I’m a Trafalgar now?”
“I guess it does.” He smiled wanly at that, seeing that his daughter was smiling at him in the starlight. It made the night sky seem that much brighter. “Get to sleep, famke. We should be able to reach the next port tomorrow morning. We’ll talk more then, alright?”
“Yes!” She settled into his lap with Professor Nanuk firmly in her grasp, keeping both close as she closed her eyes and let sleep take her.
Vaor and famke.
They were father and daughter.
Neither of them couldn’t ask for anything better.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
It was a modest house on the edge of the village, with living upstairs and in the back; the front sitting room was a waiting area and other rooms set up as an office, a consultation room, a small infirmary, and combination larger-infirmary-and-operating theater. It was a bit bigger than most of the other houses, though with the amount of space in it dedicated to doctoring and medicine, it was almost like some apartments had been stuck onto a proper clinic. Nauja was nearly vibrating with excitement as they were being shown about, while Law was looking around at everything with concern.
“This is wonderful,” he acknowledged, “but I feel like there’s a catch.”
“No catch,” Dervla said. “Just do what you said you came here to do and it’s yours.”
“I have money,” he replied icily. “This just seems like a lot to just give away.”
“Vaor, some of these expired before I was born!” Nauja gasped, pointing at a glass-doored medicine cabinet.
“Don’t touch anything until I’ve had the chance to inspect it,” Law warned. He then turned back to the village leader. “Well, am I right?”
“Like I said: just do the job you say you’re here to do and there won’t be any problem,” Dervla repeated. She pat Law on the back of his shoulder and gave him a nod. “You know where to find someone if you have a question.”
“I do, but…”
“I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it.” She then left the newcomers alone in the smaller infirmary, with Law able to hear her shut the front door on her way out.
“I don’t know…” he mused. He picked up a medical journal from a bookshelf and cracked it open—it was nearly twenty years old and filled with hand-written notations and commentary in the varying articles’ margins. “Something about this doesn’t feel right.”
“Vaor, we have a house, a place for medicine, there’s a school in town… it’s actually really neat here.”
“It’s still really suspicious when someone goes from not wanting you around at all to giving you a house specialized for your profession within an hour,” he replied. He kept flipping through the articles, a sense of familiarity washing over him. “You know… Oma used to do this.”
“Do what?” Nauja asked. She placed Professor Nanuk on the counter and bounced over towards Law, who sat on his haunches to show her the journal.
“Write in the margins like this,” he said, dragging his fingers over the ink scribbles. They were not far removed from the copperplate handwriting of his parents’ generation, the most prominent difference being the shakiness of the hand despite still being legible. “Opa did too, but not nearly as much as Oma did—it kind of annoyed him.”
“That’s silly,” she giggled. She then watched as he turned a page and almost instantly grew pale. “Vaor…? What’s wrong…?”
One look at the journal and she knew what it was: the next article was coauthored by her grandparents. Law sat directly on the dusty floor and tried his best to not cry.
“I… I remember when this was published,” he said shakily. “La—your Tante Lami was a toddler, and I had to watch her at night while they wrote.”
“I thought you said everything from… erm… home is gone,” Nauja said quietly. Law let out a laugh in disbelief, tears flowing freely down his face.
“The old doctor died before Flevance did; even if she had anything from there, unless someone bothered to come in here and take it…” He couldn’t continue, instead palming his eyes as he broke into a heaving sob. Nauja tackled him in a hug and he held her close, not wanting to let go.
There was still proof that Flevance had once lived, that his parents had lived, and that there was a legacy to pass down as he lived…
…wait a minute.
Shakily, Law disengaged Nauja and handed her the journal so that he could stand up. Tears still in his eyes, he looked at the other volumes on the shelf, running a pointer finger over their spines. Sure enough, there was plenty of medical journals and textbooks from Flevance. The collection was from a broad pool of sources—all the Cardinal Blues and the Grand Line were represented—if there had been someone on the island that was affiliated with the World Government, the entire shelf would have already been burned. He wiped his nose on his sleeve and ducked out of the room, heading into the office. His suspicions were confirmed and his jaw dropped laxly: whole bookshelves of medical publications going back decades… and many of them from the White City itself.
“Vaor…?” He glanced over and saw Nauja standing awkwardly in the doorway. “What is it?”
“I… erm…” He rubbed the back of his neck and waited until she stepped into the office properly. “It’s old, but there’s medical knowledge here that the Marines would kill this whole island over.”
“Really…?” She scrunched her nose and peered at the closest shelf. “This isn’t even from Flevance.”
“A lot of it is, or I’m sure is influenced by Flevance,” he replied, “and this one…? This is from an island that also doesn’t exist anymore. Rumor says it was destroyed for its thirst for history and knowledge.”
“Yeah…?”
“Yeah.” He licked his lips as he selected another book and flipped through it. “It makes sense if the previous doctor was well-learned that she would have had this sort of personal library, but it also tells me something else.”
“What’s that?”
“No one here is going to turn us in, even if they compare me to my bounty poster. We can stay here… for as long as it takes.”
“Really…?”
“Yeah.” He put the book down and knelt down on one knee to be at eye level with her, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. “This is our home now.”
“…but… how will I get strong and good at stuff if we stay put? What if I can’t?”
“Don’t you worry about that.” He brought his hands up to her face, holding her as though she might break. “You’re going to grow up to be an amazing person, Trafalgar D. Water Nauja… I’m going to make sure of it.”
She hugged him and, before they knew it, they were both crying.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
One of the things that was extremely evident when it came to living with Amber Lead Syndrome was that there were good days and bad days. What observers often referred to as bad days were usually the good ones, and when presented with a bad day, it was understandably cause for alarm.
It was a bad day as Law and Cora-san were huddled on some rock, glad for the break in weather that allowed them to camp on the seas-forsaken outcropping instead of attempting to find an island with an inn they hadn’t been run out of yet. The teen could barely move, causing his adult’s panic to skyrocket. He had fussed over the boy and made sure he ate before turning towards his alcohol supply, soaking his depressive thoughts though the afternoon sun had yet to dip low into the sky.
“One day, after we’ve figured this shit out, we’re going to get out of this Blue,” he said, fully drunk at that point. Law was barely able to turn his head and see Cora-san sitting next to him, staring off into the distance as he drank directly from the wine bottle. “There has to be a quiet place we can go.”
“The East and West are both hot,” the boy replied, his voice feeling like sandpaper against his throat.
“They’re quieter than here.”
“What about the South Blue? Do they have weather like the North?”
“Yeah, in some places, but,” he took another drink, “they have to contend with giant and fierce animals more than we do. The only places I can think of that doesn’t are too out of the way.”
“Cora-san… I’m not going to make it that long…”
“You can’t say that, Law!” he sniffled. “We’re going to get you a cure and then I’ll find us someplace nice to live! You can study medicine and open up a clinic and I’ll be there to help you!” He emptied the bottle and laid down—there was no mistaking that he was drunk. “My papa did not live to be very old. I think I’d like to get older than he did one day, raising a family peacefully amongst other people.”
“Then go and get married and acquire babies,” Law huffed. He tried to hide the fact he head tears in his eyes—it was something he knew he’d never see. Cora-san as a dad? Ridiculous.
“I have my family,” Cora-san replied. He placed a shaky hand on Law’s face and turned it towards him. They were both on the verge of crying, held together by barely a thread. “You are my family now, Law. Do you think I tell all those hospitals that you’re my son to be an asshole about it?”
“…no…?”
“Then it doesn’t matter if you end up being the eldest or the only.” He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Law’s. “It doesn’t matter what anyone fucking says: you’re my son now and I love you.”
“…but…!”
“I don’t know how many you lost, and I can’t replace them, but I can still love you, because everyone needs that, don’t they?”
“…but… what did I do…?” He watched Cora-san’s eyes flutter shut and he frowned. “Cora-san…? What did I do that makes you love me? I’m just some shitty kid who tried to kill you.”
A snore was his only reply. Fuck… and with him unable to move too.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
As Law feared: there was a steep learning curve to dropping himself and his daughter into the middle of a rural community. Curious passers-by kept popping their heads in and seeing who it was that was occupying the old doctor’s house. Children used to being able to barge into the front room without reprimand were shocked to discover that there were suddenly people living there. Local customs and traditions were plentiful as the young father tried to figure out what was going on around them. The Port and Village of Hinba was the only major population center on the Island and Country of Diura, which was otherwise dotted with varying farms and pastures as advertised, and yet there seemed to be no end to the amount of people that were coming in and out to meet them.
“You sure are an interesting pair,” chuckled the elderly neighbor lady—Svana—as she helped Law clean the infirmary. It was a quiet day, after Dervla had threatened everyone else to leave him alone or get kicked off the island. Nauja was outside with some of the other children who lived nearby, making it just the two adults in the house.
“Now why would you say that, Svana-ya?” he posed. Law was placing fresh bottles of antiseptic in one cupboard while she was washing the inside of another.
“Last time we got a new doctor we had to send to Roshawan for one,” she noted. “People don’t normally come here thinking that they might be able to stay and make a living… especially not if they arrive with a young one in-tow.”
“Consider us unique,” he said. He knew full-well that she was likely considered the island’s best font of information on them aside from Nauja, except no one was truly aware of how much they had planned beforehand. “What was the doctor like who was here before?”
“Dr. Ghar-Spartel was a hardy woman, who traveled the seas before settling here,” Svana nodded, her expression turning far-off as she reminisced. “We all mourned her when she passed—I think it’s part of why we never found another in all this time.”
“I was told you don’t take easily to strangers, yet you mourned someone you sent for?”
“We did; it turned out she was in town when our call was received and her heart fit here so well that no one could imagine anything different. With any luck, you two will acclimate as easily as she did.” She left the cupboard open and went to wring out the cloth and wet it again with the cleaning solution. “I get the feeling she would have liked the both of you—had a soft spot for Northern blokes who’d wander in town.”
“Was she Northern…?”
“Never publicly claimed a lick, but she was acquainted with quite a few. Came with the territory considering how far she sailed; she spent many an evening telling me tales of Lvneel and other places.”
“Maybe you can tell us some of those stories one day,” he said. “Leaving home young has… disadvantages. I don’t have a lot of stories to pass on to my daughter about my home sea. Not about Lvneel, or Kuenta, or Whiteland, or Flevance, or Notice…”
“I’ve got plenty, especially of Lvneel and Flevance,” she replied. “They were cultural hubs, and I’m sure you’ve heard how Flevance was known for their medical knowledge before the Plague, so she spent plenty of time there.”
Law finished stocking the cupboard and closed it. “Weird how that works: a place that was the best-equipped to handle a situation being wiped out by it instead.”
“It sounds suspicious to me, but that’s age and how life is here for you,” she sighed. She saw the confused, embarrassed look on Law’s face and she chuckled. “We don’t care about what the Government says in these parts. We’re not affiliated with them—never have been—so there’s no love lost if you know my meaning.”
“I know perfectly well your meaning, Svana-ya,” Law nodded. His face was still warm—it looked like embarrassment, but deep down, he was just happy he could continue to get something from his hometown… and something as intangible as stories? He was beyond elated. Now the only problem was making sure his neighbor didn’t catch on about how much he already knew… how much she was able to piece together…
Just then, the kitchen door at the back of the house slammed open and the sound of more than one child came barreling in. Nauja came sliding into the infirmary in her stocking feet, with a small gaggle of children close behind.
“See?!” she said, pointing at Law. “That’s my vaor! He’s a doctor, isn’t he, Svana-ya?!”
“He’s no midwife, but he’ll do,” the older woman chuckled. The village children all stared at Law and the ink visible thanks to his tank top shirt. “It’s impolite to stare—you act like you’ve never seen sailors’ marks before.”
“Are you a pirate?!” one of the children gasped. Nauja froze, yet Law knew exactly what to do. He crouched down with a wicked grin and wiggled his fingers, coming at the children until they screamed and ran away.
“I’m the worst pirate of them all! The Surgeon of Death!” The children that were not his all scurried out, with his daughter staring at him in confusion. “What…? It’s not like I’m not already mistaken for him.”
“Vaor… don’t do that again. You looked weird.”
“Oh, now you’re too cool?”
“Vaor…” Nauja rolled her eyes and went to find the other children, leaving Law with an expression of deadpan irritation on his face. Svana laughed merrily at that.
“What betrayal!” she cackled. “…and to think people wonder why I never had children!”
“I don’t know; maybe because you’re the island’s midwife?”
“Delivering children is not the same as having and raising them, young man,” she retorted. She forced her giggles under control as the man young enough to be her grandson attempted to get back to cleaning. “She is a good child; you should be proud.”
“I am.”
“…and I’m sure her mother is proud of you both.” He paused loading the cupboard for a moment, clearly lost in thought, before putting the vial back down on the counter. “How long has it been just the two of you?”
“…not… erm… long,” he admitted. He kept staring at the countertop, hoping she’d drop the topic, yet her hand gently touched his back in an effort to console him. “Can we please not talk about this, Svana-ya?”
“Bottling it up won’t be good, lad,” she cautioned. “You still have a lot of life left to be weighed down by something so heavy as those bits of metal on your neck.”
“I’ve carried more for longer,” he said, knowing the risk of saying so. The thin chain that held his parents’ wedding bands—scavenged from the ruins of the hospital when he was a reckless teen—suddenly felt very conspicuous, even though their presence was supposed to be part of the lie. “This is for my daughter—I don’t care what it does to me as long as she can grow up strong and free from everything.”
“She won’t if she loses both her parents this young.” The old woman rubbed his back and, for a moment, Law felt his stomach churn. He wasn’t used to genuine concern out of strangers and it made him feel guilty… guilty for everything. Flevance, Lami, Cora-san, the crew… everyone. Shit… did his classmate even like him back then? Had she tolerated him at the very least? He couldn’t remember…
“Being there for Nauja was part of why we moved from the Grand Line,” he stated. “I couldn’t stay there and raise her at the same time… it wasn’t right. It’s… cowardly to come here, but that doesn’t mean it’s not the right thing to do.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Corasson Law: it’s the bravest thing you could have done for her.”
Seas… he really hoped she was right.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
The sense of déjà vu that Law was experiencing did not settle well with him, as it made him think of a time when he was the child, diminutive due to stunted growth and comparative height to his adult. He held Nauja close as he opened a large Room, the two of them surrounded by citizens of the small town they were in. Well, on the outskirts of, but that was besides the point.
“You don’t scare us,” a shop owner said. He had been a Marine for twenty years before retiring, the seagull tattoo still prominent on his upper arm. “A member of the Worst Generation would fetch a large price… especially one who tries to go into hiding while his cohorts make trouble elsewhere. What are you after, Rogue Shichibukai?!”
“I’m not here for trouble if that’s what you’re concerned about,” Law announced for about the sixteenth time.
“Then where’d you get the kid?”
“None of your business.”
“I’m making it my business, boy.”
Law sighed and twitched his fingers, the mob of citizens being replaced with their children and pets. The startled kids all looked at him and Nauja without really knowing what to say, let alone knowing what happened.
“You’re the man that Dad wanted us to stay away from,” a little boy realized. Law breathed a sigh of relief and put Nauja down; they had about five minutes before they needed to start running again.
“Perceptive,” he replied. “Do you always listen to your dad?”
“Yes…?”
“I doubt that, but close enough.” He stroked Nauja’s hair as she huddled against his leg, holding onto his trousers as she tried to hide from the other children in the safety of his coat. “What’s the matter? You were fine a little while ago…”
“That was before they tried to take me and run you out of town,” she mumbled.
“But he’s a bad man!” a girl declared.
“Maybe your dad’s the bad one!” Nauja shot back. “Mine just wants to take care of me! Why does that make him bad?!”
“Nauja…” Movement caught Law’s eye and he grimaced—the adults were back sooner than he expected. “Time to go.” He picked her up and waited just long enough for her to flip her middle fingers at the other children before he triggered a series of swaps that landed them in their boat, then switching the entire boat with a whale that was breaching just offshore so it could damage the wharf. He finally let out the breath he had been holding and put his daughter down, only for her to slump onto the deck in irritation.
“They hate us,” she grumbled. “Vaor… why do they hate us…?”
“…because they don’t know any better, and hating people who are different than them has worked for their survival in the past.” He made sure the wind was catching the sail correctly before pulling a map out of his coat pocket. “That’s another one down.”
“This stinks,” she said. “I feel like we’ve been searching forever.”
“Not forever, but definitely a long time,” he admitted. Law crossed off the island they had just been on and took a look at where they could go next. They were running out of options around the entrance to the Grand Line, meaning the further they went into the South Blue, the more dangerous it was likely to become. He sat down as he studied the map, propping his feet up on Nauja’s legs in order to rile her up. It worked and she wriggled out from under him in order to crawl over to his side and nestle in the crook of his arm.
“How long were you and Cora-jiisan running?” she wondered.
“Almost half a year—it’s only been a couple months for us,” he reminded her. He traced the line of a water current and nodded. “I think if we keep low and only stop for supplies, we might be able to get to this island in about two weeks or so.”
“…Diura…?” She peered at the paper and frowned. “Why there?”
“It’s far enough from Reverse Mountain that we’re out of the way of other pirates,” he reasoned. “Fewer pirates mean fewer people who would recognize me even if I don’t use my Devil Fruit. It even looks like it might be out of the way for people around there too.”
“How?”
“The currents are all wrong.” He took her hand and gently traced the current paths on the map with her finger. “This is a major water current that goes through that area of the South Blue, and this is the major wind current. Neither of them go near there, which means that it’s minor sailing traffic only.”
“…so… it would be no problem for the Tang, but it would for a normal ship?”
“Not a problem, just more difficult.” Shit, he wished Bepo and Penguin were there to explain it better, maybe even Hakugan, since he was admittedly less comfortable with specifics. He kissed the side of her head and squeezed her gently. “We’ll find someplace. I promise.”
“Why here?” she asked. “Why not the North Blue?”
“Too many people remember my face or my accent or both,” he admitted. “Besides, the Marines would be looking for me in my Home Blue if I simply vanished off their Grand Line radar.”
“Those villagers sure did know who you were…”
“…and they’re the only ones who caught us so far,” he reminded her. Their amount of close calls had been racking up exponentially—it was a surprise that they hadn’t been chased out of town before this. “One report does not make the military change course… not like that. Besides, it will look like they called the Marines because their harbor was wrecked and they didn’t want to pay for it.”
“…oh.” Nauja took the map and looked at it closer. “There’s a town on Diura. Do you think it’s big?”
“Probably not, but something tells me that they have the room to take in a girl who lost her mother… a man who lost his wife…” He watched as her face scrunched while trying to remember their cover story.
“It was a couple years ago,” she recited. “Moetje was sick, and you were really sad for a long time after she passed away, so my uncles told you that moving might help, since we can go where you don’t have memories of her.”
“Good—and where were we before that?”
“Water 7; you didn’t like needing to prepare for Aqua Laguna every year anyhow.”
“…and how did we get through to the South Blue?”
“A ship that could pass through the Calm Belt gave us passage, but no one has to know that it’s because it’s a submarine pirate ship and not a Marine ship.”
“Exactly.” He frowned and remembered the last time he was running like this, when it was with Cora-san, and how different this time was. “Can you remember something for me?”
The girl perked up. “What is it?”
“Remember that I love you, okay?” He watched as confusion crossed her face. “I never got the chance to tell Cora-jiisan that in all the time I spent with him. I love you…” he took a deep breath, “…and the crew loves you. That’s why we’re doing this. Do you understand?”
“You love me… and the crew loves me,” she echoed. “You loved Cora-jiisan, and he loved you. That’s why we’re running… why he ran with you… why the crew can’t run with us.”
“Yeah… that’s the gist of it.”
The little girl stayed quiet for a moment, mulling everything over as she idly picked at the hem of her sweater. She then nodded; she understood, and she was glad.
“I love you too, Vaor.”
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
That night, after the rest of Hinba was back in their homes for the evening, Law used his Devil Fruit to take apart the wall in the front sitting room, having found a space inside just big enough for Kikoku. While he had entertained the idea of leaving it out as a display, it was safest that he hid it away, at least for the time being.
“You’ll come out soon enough,” he murmured to the sword as he placed it inside the thin nook. He let his hand linger on the scabbard, giving the blade inside a moment to accept its oncoming rest.
“Do we need to put my knife away?” Nauja wondered. Law looked and saw the girl was holding up her weapon; he let go of Kikoku and shook his head.
“I still want you to train,” he said. “A knife is easier to keep out of sight than a long sword. Don’t worry—Kikoku understands.” He then replaced the paneling and plaster as though it had never been moved. “This is it. We’re home now.”
“…yeah…?”
“We still need to be careful, but yeah. I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon.” He let her cling to him in a tight hug—it was time now to get on with the rest of their lives.
#One Piece#fan fiction#Trafalgar Law#Trafalgar Nauja#Law lives the life Cora wanted and (mostly) succeeds#much slower in pace than the other variations of this fic but also will be much steamier and domestic#The Great Dilfening of Trafalgar Law#lots of part lies and semi-truths and manipulating heteronominative assumptions#gratuitous abuse of multiple languages/cultures#accidentally wrote grace/demi Law enjoy folks#this man should have half the town trying to bed him but NOPE#I've had parts of this draft prepped for so long that it's the old post UI this is wild
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Share your Progress Tag
tagged by @jessicas-story-blog22 ty!
Rules: When your work is tagged, show the process of its creation from planning to posting, then tag 5 people. Use the tag #showyourprocess so we can find yours!
Using Syndicate
Original to Current Iteration
I'm changing the format the previous one was in and adding this category instead of Inspiration because of the process of this.
So, when I was a baby writer, I started a story I called The Light at the End of the Tunnel (I got attached to the name but it was never perfect). It was one of the first things I wrote on a computer, and the first typed story I finished. Because of that it has always been important to me.
(gets longwinded so under the cut)
Anyway. It was even more edgy angsty than it is now. That story was about a kid named Cecil, who went through various torture methods at the hands of a group of torturers. His only friend was Mika, who cared for him and kept him relatively safe, as best she could. (I was like, 12, when I came up with this.)
From that grew some really good components: I learned how to write dark really well. I fell in love with betrayal and with secrets as plot elements. Terran became a character-- at the time, a twist that he was on their side, and a dip into exploring the pressure he was under for having to pretend. And, most importantly, the twist that Raymond, someone Cecil had only heard about, was alive. (There was also magic in this version, Mika always had emotions poers and Ramyond always had mental ones. But it was just there, not very salient, and no worldbuilding.)
Anyway. I finish that story. I celebrate in relief. I take a break, I work on other things. I take writing classes, I get practice. I rewrite it, mainly just tidying things up and adding some scenes. I develop Raymond and Terarn's romance more (that was there almost since the beginning, but fun fact-- I didn't originally intend it, it was my best friend who said she shipped them). I leave it. I write other things. I write a one-shot taking place after the events of the story that's just kinda fluffy, as fluffy as anything in this story can be. I write a full backstory, with everything that happened in the past. I leave it.
I go to college. I have other stories. I consider TLATEOTT an old draft I remember fondly but know is not very good. I miss parts of it. In a few sad moments, my girlfriend asks about stories to cheer me up, and I tell them about Terran.
I take an advancd writing class and we're supposed to start something new. She says, we can use old characters, but for the most part it has to be new. I brainstorm I try to pick other plots. It occurs to me-- what if I just take the good parts from TLATEOTT?
I go off memory. What was the good parts? How can I change it? I brainstorm. I come up with the magic system, with Calson City. I change it to assassins, as it does what I need it to and works better. I write down notes about Terran. I draw form everything I know already, applying it all to this new world and circumstances. A new story forms, where the twist halfway through is now the premise. I change what didn't make sense.
In all that, the one major thing that didn't fit? the original main character. R.I.P Cecil.
Preparation
I touched on this already-- I don't really have much research for this I usually have to look up things like how burn healing works and the laws regarding fire escapes and how hostage negotiations usually work. Most of my prep is worldbuilding and plot planning, and brainstorming ideas about what's gone down in the past. I have a notebook for brainstorming, which I try to copy into documents on my computer so it's easier to find.
Art Process
I don't have art but I do have a moodboard, playlist, and I've made picrews of the characters. Oh am um... my best friend did make fanart of the original. It doesn't make sense now, but it's fantastic.
Thoughts
I didn't say this about the process: first of all, it's on and off. I go though such long periods where i can't write more of this, can't figure out where it's going. But I'm gunna do this one. I know it. This is a big one for me, and my soul is in it.
Second, writeblr is a part of it. I decided to catch up on tags... and I might have enough inspiration to get back to writing it. seriously,it is unbelievable the amount of help it is to share snippets. especially when people reply to it.
Tagging @sleepy-night-child @diphthongsfordays @thegreatobsesso & open tag for anyone who wants to!
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tfw you're ✨behind on nanowrimo✨
Figure 1. My face when I wake up each morning and remember that I'm still behind on NaNoWriMo.
My NaNoWriMo project this year is From the Ashes, a crime docufiction novel I've been planning to write since 2013. Yes, that's almost ten years ago. I'm old.
I started outlining it "officially" for a November 1st, 2022 draft start date on May 1st. Its outline is 17 pages and consists of:
Basic info
Detailed synopsis
Themes, motifs and symbolism
Detailed section plan
Flexible scene plan
Research notes (this genre, and this novel specifically, require an exhaustive amount of research)
Annex outline (I have two annexes)
Songlist (might sound silly to some to include a songlist in the outline, but for me, music is an absolutely integral part of my writing process)
Two (2) memes
I spent the five months between May 1st and November 1st building on the sparse notes I already had for this project, drafting my outline, revising my outline, building a structural synopsis doc for the second draft, and writing extensive prep materials (including multiple character interviews, procedural transcriptions for a trial, timeline docs, research docs, et cetera).
And after all that work, how is my long-awaited NaNoWriMo drafting experience going? Well, as you can see below, it's November 26th, and I'm sitting at 30,310 words.
Figure 2. Cue dejected trombone music.
Figure 3. I'm truly crying a single tear.
Why am I here typing out a blog post about being behind on NaNoWriMo when it's November 26th and I'm 20,000 words out from my word count goal? Well, because, as a self-described NaNoWriMo veteran (as in, I've been doing this on and off since 2008, which is basically the era of the dinosaurs at this point), I'm here to tell you that if you're new to NaNo and/or disappointed about being behind, you can literally still catch up. If you want to/if life isn't getting in the way too much. Trust me, no matter what I do, I'm chronically Behind On NaNo™ every year I do it, because life somehow always continues to happen despite the fact that I'm drafting a novel. And I've caught up from worse than this. So, let's go write. I'm cheering you on from my kitchen table as we speak.
And you know what? As cliché as it is to say at this point, even if you don't manage to catch up this year, you still wrote more than you probably would have otherwise, right? It's obviously disappointing when you don't meet your goal, but you can always do what I do and let it motivate you for next year.
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