Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Zehahaha, without a ship, you can’t even call yourselves pirates anymore, let alone escape,” Blackbeard gloated as he stood over Law’s prone form. Law had gone down after taking a particularly nasty hit, Kikoku clattering from his grip, and hadn’t gotten back up. In a panic, Bepo had tried to rush to his side, but Burgess had knocked him aside like he was little more than a cub.

Everyone… Bepo thought in agony, the sound of metal shredding still echoing in his ears. Please be all right. But there wasn’t anything he could do for the others sinking in the water while he was face-down in the dirt a few yards away from his captain. Bepo’s entire body hurt from the blows he’d taken, and even the thought of moving made a jolt of pain run down his spine.

“The owners of the one hundred hearts you stole at Rocky Port are still livin’ on Pirate Island,” Blackbeard went on, the glee in his voice making Bepo’s jaw clench. “I bet they’ll be thrilled if I bring ‘em your heart! We’ll have a toast.”

No, Bepo thought, eyes widening. Law wasn’t just at his limit—he’d blown past that hours ago. No, he was so far beyond his limits that Bepo didn’t know how he was still conscious, considering the toll Law’s awakened techniques took on his body. If Blackbeard tried anything, Law would be helpless to stop him. Bepo was his only hope. And Bepo had one trump card left to play.

He tried to make as little movement as possible as he reached into his pockets for one of the little balls Chopper had given him before their crews had gone their separate ways after Wano.

“You really made these?” Bepo had asked in awe once Chopper explained what they were.

Chopper had blushed and wiggled, clearly pleased with the praise. But he shook a hoof at Bepo in a warning. “I can’t guarantee it’ll work, okay?”

I don’t have a choice but to try, Bepo thought as he bit down on the special Rumble Ball. He closed his eyes, waiting to feel different—to feel Sulong erupt from his blood, to give him the power to do something.

“Now, what should we do with the Ope Ope no Mi? Sell it or use it?” Blackbeard made a show of looking thoughtful, and Bepo screwed his eyes shut, pleading with the Rumble Ball to work. “Don’t suppose you’d fancy makin’ me immortal?”

Nothing happened.

Panic churned in Bepo’s stomach as Blackbeard leaned forward and grabbed Law by the throat. Law hissed as Blackbeard lifted him until his feet were dangling above the ground, but he only managed to weakly paw at Blackbeard’s wrist.

Unable to wait any longer for the Rumble Ball to take effect, Bepo tried to rise—to reach Law—but when he made it to all fours, a sharp kick to his middle had him crying out and dropping to the ground again. Bepo’s vision swam in front of him as a foot planted firmly in his back.

“Captain,” Bepo exhaled weakly.

“Stay down, little mink,” Burgess warned.

Bepo could do little more than growl in response, and Burgess, the bastard, laughed.

“I don’t s’ppose you’d do that, even to save your crew, would you, Trafalgar?” Blackbeard continued while Law’s scrabbling against his grip weakened. “No matter. You’re plenty valuable even without it. Three billion beri bounty for your head. But that’s not all, is it?” Blackbeard turned away from Law for a moment to look at his men. “You know how much the Marines were willing to pay for the Ope Ope no Mi thirteen years ago?” When the others shook their heads, Blackbeard’s grotesque smirk widened as he looked back at Law. “Five fucking billion.”

Burgess whistled while Van Augur raised an eyebrow and Doc Q was thrown into a coughing fit.

“I can only imagine what the highest bidder would pay today,” Blackbeard added as Law’s weakly scrabbling hand dropped limply to his side as he lost consciousness.

“Wait!” Bepo cried out, suddenly panicked. He couldn’t let Blackbeard kill Law for his Devil Fruit. Burgess’s heel ground into his back as a threat, but Bepo ignored it as best he could. Blackbeard’s beady gaze found Bepo’s, and Bepo swallowed nervously. “Y-you carry the initial of D.”

“What of it?” Blackbeard asked suspiciously, his full attention now turning to Bepo.

Sharing this information was an absolute last-ditch effort, but if it would cause Blackbeard to keep Law alive, at least a little longer, it was worth it. “So does Law.”

Blackbeard’s eyes widened briefly, and he glanced back at the slack figure in his grip before looking back at Bepo, his gaze sharp as flint. “Yer lying to save your captain.”

“I’m not,” Bepo said, shaking his head desperately. I’m sorry, Law. “His full name is Trafalgar D. Water Law. H-his family told him to keep his full name secret. So, he does.”

Blackbeard was silent for a long moment, looking in Bepo’s direction though his gaze was far away. Finally, he came back to himself and released his grip around Law’s throat. Law crumpled bonelessly to the ground. Bepo let out a sigh of relief as Blackbeard turned to his men again. “Round up the survivors and lock ‘em up.”

“What about Trafalgar?” Van Augur asked.

“Wrap ‘im in Seastone. I’m not taking any chances with him.”

“We’re not killing him?” Burgess asked from above Bepo, seemingly disappointed. “But he’s worth billions. Him and his fruit, apparently.”

“Not yet,” Blackbeard said, looking down at Law’s unconscious form with a thoughtful look. “My interest is piqued.” He looked back up. “The others, though?” He grinned then, making Bepo’s insides twist. “We sell them.”

Law groaned as consciousness mercilessly returned; every inch of his body hurt, and he was weighed down by bone-deep exhaustion. His eyelids felt like lead, but he forced them open and blinked a few times to clear his blurry vision. He was lying on a wooden floor in what looked to be a brig. There was a rattling as he tried to move his hands, and he glanced down to see his wrists shackled with Seastone. Between the overuse of his Devil Fruit and the Seastone, it was no wonder he felt so tired.

If Law was being honest, he was surprised to have woken up at all. The last thing he remembered was Blackbeard’s hand around his throat and struggling to breathe as the Emperor’s foul breath washed over his face. He must have lost consciousness at some point; he would have expected Blackbeard to kill him for his bounty and his Devil Fruit. Somehow, Blackbeard had known about the price the Marines had been willing to pay for the Ope Ope no Mi when Cora-san had stolen it, and based on Doflamingo’s words back in Dressrosa, he didn’t doubt the World Government would want the fruit back in their possession.

So, why was Law still alive?

“You awake?” a feminine voice piped up.

Law started and looked up to see a young woman leaning against the far wall, her own wrists shackled. Most notably, however, was the third eye on her forehead. He gave it a quick glance before meeting her gaze again; there was something sharp in them that left Law feeling off-balance, like he should know who she is.

“Unfortunately,” Law replied, and slowly pushed himself upright—or tried to, at least. His arms shook with the effort, and by the time he managed to slump back against the wall, he was sweating as his wounds protested every inch of movement. Even breathing hurt. He undoubtedly had a few broken ribs, and there was a good chance there was some internal damage, but he couldn’t be certain of its severity without his powers; his captors—unsurprisingly—hadn’t bothered with any medical care.

The space in the cell was quiet for several moments except for Law’s labored breathing.

“I have to say,” the woman said finally, “you’re not as impressive in person as I was expecting, Trafalgar Law.”

Law narrowed his eyes and, too tired to even turn his head, shot her a glance out of the corner of his eye. “Sorry to disappoint,” he muttered. He wasn’t particularly surprised to be recognized, especially with that latest wanted poster making the rounds. In the woman’s defense, though, he was certain he did look like shit at the moment. “Who are you?”

“Charlotte Pudding.” Law’s eyes widened as she raised an eyebrow. “I believe you know my mother.”

Law let out a humorless laugh. “Fuck. This day just keeps getting better.” He blinked heavily. “I’d say I’m sorry, but, well.”

“You’re not.”

“No.” Law glanced over at Pudding. In her shoes, Law had spent thirteen years plotting revenge against the man who’d killed his beloved person. Yet here Law—the man who’d helped kill her mother—was and Pudding… “You don’t seem too torn up, Pudding-ya.”

Pudding shrugged. “You may have beaten her, but I don’t think she’s dead. She’s a monster.”

Law thought about the depth of the hole he’d created to drop Big Mom into and the explosion after Kaido had fallen. His lips thinned into a line. “She’s dead.”

Pudding’s gaze dropped down to her lap as she repeated more quietly, “Yes, well. She’s a monster.”

Interesting.

Law looked away from Pudding and studied the cell he found himself in. It was a fairly simple design with one set of bars enclosing the space. There was room outside the cell for guards to sit and a door on the other side of the room. Based on the discarded set of playing cards and empty cups of ale, it seemed there had been guards here not that long ago.

“How long have I been out?” Law finally asked.

“How should I know?” Pudding scoffed, but after a moment added, “You were already unconscious when they dragged you in, but there have been two meals since then. So, at least half a day.” She grimaced. “It’s hard to tell the passage of time in here without any windows.”

Law bit his lip. “Did… Did anyone else come in with me?”

“I didn’t see anyone else.”

Law swallowed against a lump in his throat. The last he’d seen of his crew, Bepo had been on the ground nearby while most had been in the water with the Tang when she’d…

Oh Seas, the Tang. He’d forgotten about her until that moment. Blackbeard had made sure Law was watching when he’d sunk her—the ship that Wolf had gifted four teenage boys and had become their home of over a decade. She must be at the bottom of the sea by now. Ten years’ worth of memories… gone, just like that.

And his nakama…

Law felt tears prickle at the corner of his eyes but refused to let them fall here on what must be Blackbeard’s ship. He would not show weakness here, not where Blackbeard or his men could walk in at any moment and not in front of the daughter of an Emperor he’d helped defeat. Law had a lifetime of practice repressing his trauma, and he would put that practice to good use now.

“What does Blackbeard want with you?” Law asked after several quiet moments, glancing back at his cellmate.

“Don’t you know what they say about members of the Three-Eyed Tribe?” Pudding asked.

“So, it’s true? About reading the Poneglyphs?”

“My mother thought so,” Pudding replied with a sneer before looking away, and Law did not miss that she’d referred to her mother in past tense after their earlier exchange.

Law considered this; Blackbeard had said he was waiting for whichever captain happened to travel in his direction to take his Poneglyphs, and he also had a prisoner possibly capable of reading them. It seemed that he was really making his move for Laugh Tale. For a moment, Law thought of Luffy, and something twisted in his chest. He quickly shoved the feeling down as deeply as he could; he couldn’t afford any distractions right now. 

“Perhaps the better question is what he wants with you, Mr. Surgeon of Death,” Pudding added, appraising him.

“Hell if I know,” Law muttered, and the cell fell back into silence.

Even sitting up was exhausting with his injuries and the Seastone draining his energy, so he let his eyes slide shut again. He was drifting back into unconsciousness when the door to the brig slammed open. Law ignored it until he heard keys jangling in the lock. He opened his eyes just as the cell door opened and two burly guards stepped in.

Law growled as the guards grabbed him under the arm on either side and dragged him up but couldn’t muster the strength for a stronger protest as he was manhandled out of the cell. The cell and brig doors shut behind them, and the guards dragged Law, whose feet tangled ungainly beneath him, through hallways until they entered the dining room.

The guards threw Law to the floor in front of a pair of familiar boots before stepping back to stand at either side of the door. Landing on the ground jolted his ribs, and Law gasped in pain. He screwed his eyes shut, riding out the wave of pain, before opening them again. He turned his head to see Blackbeard sitting at the head of the dining table. Law felt a surge of rage beneath his skin as Teach met his eyes for a moment. But then Blackbeard frowned before turning to the guards.

“No need for that now. Help him into a seat. Trafalgar is our guest, after all.”

Law snorted at that before wincing as the guards returned and pulled him up and into the closest chair before retreating. The rough handling left Law breathless as his body protested, but eventually, the pain receded to a more tolerable level, and Law looked around the room, noticing that he and Teach were alone except for the guards—who also disappeared once Blackbeard nodded for them to leave. There was a plate with meat, potatoes, and a roll as well as a goblet of wine in front of the Emperor.

After a moment, a side door opened as a server stepped in with a tray and made his way over to the table. Law watched in surprise as he placed a plate with the same foods and an empty glass that he filled with wine in front of Law before retreating from the room.

Once the door shut behind the server, Blackbeard picked up a fork and gestured at Law. “Go ahead, eat.” At Law’s skeptical look, he laughed. “Zehahaha, if I was going to kill you, I wouldn’ta bothered bringing you onto my ship, Trafalgar.” Then he stuck his fork into the meat and started cutting with a steak knife.

Which, Law supposed, was a fair point. And, admittedly, Law was starving; his body demanded more nutrition after using his awakening. He reached for the fork, his shackles jangling and knocking into the side of the table. He gave Teach a wry smile and gestured at his wrists. “It’d be easier to eat without these. If you’re being hospitable and all.”

Blackbeard scoffed around a large bite of food. “How much of a fool do you take me for?”

Law shrugged and twirled his steak knife a few times before using it to cut his meat. “You gave me a knife.”

“Zehahaha,” Blackbeard laughed, completely unbothered by the thinly veiled threat. He paused only to take a large gulp of wine to wash down the meat. “I like you, Trafalgar. It’s too bad it came to this.” He gestured at Law with his fork. “I’ll admit, I was a bit disappointed t’see you were the one who came my way. You were such a help to me at Rocky Port, after all. Couldn’ta made Hachinosu my base without you.”

Law gritted his teeth as he took a bite of the meat, remembering Teach’s threat about the Rocky Port hundred from earlier, but had to immediately bite down on a moan as he tasted the meat. It was hardly the best he’d ever had, but Law was so fucking hungry that just about anything would give even Sanji’s cooking a run for its money at the moment. He forced himself to eat slowly since, if Pudding was right about how long he’d been out, nearly a full day since he’d eaten. He needed to regain his strength for whatever the hell Blackbeard was up to.

“So, what is this, exactly?” Law finally asked when he’d taken the sharp edge off his hunger.

“Hm?” Teach hummed, though from the glint in his eye he knew exactly what Law was asking.

Law put his fork down and, resting his elbows on the edge of the table, casually picked up his knife. He toyed with it for a few moments before turning it over so the tip was pressed into the table and rested his index finger on the bottom of the handle. He absently moved his finger so the knife dug a small groove into the table. He knew this was little more than posturing, considering the Seastone around his wrists, but Law didn’t have anything else to work with, and he refused to look any more vulnerable than he already was.

“You said it’s too bad it came to ‘this.’ What’s ‘this’?” Law repeated. “What game are you playing here, Teach?”

Blackbeard looked at Law over the rim of his goblet. “S’no game here, Trafalgar.”

“No?”

“I told ya, I wanted yer Poneglyphs. Which,” Blackbeard added, “Van Augur got from that tin can of yours.” He smiled coldly. “Or, former tin can, I s’ppose.”

Law stiffened, the sound of the Tang’s metal shredding echoing through his ears. But he refused to rise to the bait. “Then why am I here,” he gritted out, “and where is my crew?”

“Yer here because I’m not done with you,” Teach growled, putting his goblet down on the table with a thud. Red wine spilled over the edge and onto his hand. “As for yer crew,” he went on, lifting his hand to his mouth and licking the wine off with a mad glint in his eye, “they’re below deck. In the slave hold.”

Slave hold…

With a furious snarl, Law tightened his grip on the knife and flung it at Teach’s head in one motion, but the shackles slowed his movement; the other pirate lifted a hand, and the knife was sucked into a small black hole in his palm. Teach’s eyes never left Law’s. As the black hole dissipated into nothing, he chuckled.

“Zehaha. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before,” he murmured to himself. Law wasn’t sure what he meant, but he didn’t have a chance to ask before Blackbeard summoned the guards from outside.

“Sir?”

“Take Trafalgar here down to the slave hold. Let ‘im see his crew then take ‘im back to the brig.” As the guards grabbed Law and hauled him out of his chair, Blackbeard called to his retreating back: “Make it count, Trafalgar. We’ll reach Hachinosu in a day.”

The words, punctuated by the slamming of the dining room door, sent a chill down Law’s spine. Law wasn’t able to dwell on them, though, as the guards’ manhandling jostled his injuries until he was gasping for air once more. They dragged him through hallways and down steps until they stopped in front of a door. The first guard opened the door and pushed Law inside. “In here.”

Law stumbled forward as the door shut behind him and looked around. The slave hold was dark, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light; eventually, though, blurry shapes started resolving into people.

“Captain?”

“Law?”

 “Guys,” Law breathed at the familiar voices. “Is everyone…?”

“We’re here, Captain,” Bepo’s voice piped up. “All twenty.” Law peered around until he saw the mink rising to his feet in the back of the hold. He swayed unsteadily, both from his wounds and relief that everyone had made it out, but quickly felt hands beneath his elbows on either side.

“We’ve got you, Cap,” Penguin said from his right.

“We’re here,” Shachi added from his left.

“What happened?” Law asked. “The last thing I remember was Blackbeard…” He shook his head. “I woke up in the brig.”

“I’m sorry,” Bepo apologized tearfully as he made his way to stand in front of Law. He glanced down and saw the shackles around Law’s wrists and bit his lip. “But he was going to kill you, Captain. It was the only thing I could think of.”

Law frowned, confused. “Bepo, what did you do?”

Bepo slowly looked up and met Law’s gaze. “I told him your name. Your full name.” Law’s stomach dropped, and Blackbeard’s words from earlier suddenly made sense. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. “I’m sorry.”

He barely heard the crew’s explanation about the Blackbeard Pirates fishing everyone from the water, tying them up, and bringing them to the ship, where they were placed in the cargo hold. The crew had been too drained and beaten down from the fight to put up much of a resistance. Yet Law, their doctor, couldn’t do anything for them in his current condition.

The door opened, spilling dim light in from the hallway, and the guards stepped inside. They roughly shoved Shachi and Penguin away from Law, ignoring their protests, and grabbed him around his biceps.

“Time’s up, Trafalgar.”

The last thing Law saw as he was pulled from the hold was Bepo’s tearful face before the door shut with a clang.

Chapter Text

Law clenched his jaw against the pain as Blackbeard’s mooks shoved him across the deck of Blackbeard’s ship, having docked in Rocky Port. He paused at the top of the gangplank, first taking in the giant skull overlooking Hachinosu and then looking down to where his crew was being corralled by the Blackbeard Pirates and their followers who had come to meet the ship. His nakama were all shackled and were being loaded into prisoner carts.

“Don’t worry, Trafalgar,” Blackbeard said, stepping up next to Law, looking out over the scene. “They’re all here.” His lips twisted into a smirk. “For now.”

“Bastard,” Law snarled, jerking toward the Emperor.

He’d spent the last day—he thought it had been a day, anyway; it was hard to tell how much time had passed while inside the windowless brig—alternating between exchanging snipes with Pudding and snagging bits and pieces of poor sleep where he dreamed of Blackbeard killing his nakama and woke up gasping. The guards refused to give him any more information about his crew after his visit to the cargo hold the previous day, and Blackbeard hadn’t brought him up to share another meal.

Law had also tried to assess his injuries, but it was a challenge without access to his fruit. He’d managed to use some of the water that had been provided at mealtimes to wipe away some of the blood and dirt from his skin, but it was useless for what Law assumed were a concussion, broken ribs, and possible internal bleeding, the latter of which he was becoming increasingly concerned about as he watched the bruises around his ribs spread across his skin while he became lightheaded and nauseous and a sheen of sweat formed on his forehead. The longer he went without dealing with the issue, the worse his chances became; Blackbeard might have the Ope Ope no Mi much earlier than he planned.

Once the ship had docked at Hachinosu, Law and Pudding had listened to the sounds of unloading until the guards had come for the pair of them. Pudding had gone first, giving the men the nastiest look she could manage—which, Law had to admit, was impressive—as she’d been escorted from the brig. The guards had come back for Law later, practically dragging him to the deck as Law’s feet tangled beneath him.

The guards pulled Law back away from Blackbeard and, for good measure, punched him in the stomach. His ribs screamed, and he doubled over. His vision briefly whited out, and he coughed blood onto the deck.

“Zehahaha,” Blackbeard laughed before raising his voice to the crowd gathering in the port. “We’re back, and we’ve brought some guests you lot might remember.” Law grimaced as Blackbeard grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled him upright, showing him off like a prized animal for judging at a fair. “Trafalgar Law and his Heart Pirates.”

There was a loud burst of angry shouts and curses thrown toward the Hearts and Law.

“You bastards dare show your faces here?!”

“Give us our hearts back, Trafalgar!”

“I’ll cut yer heart out, you sonuvabitch!”

The angry words rolled off Law’s back—he hadn’t taken the hearts of innocents, after all, and it had been a necessary part of his plan—but he felt a flash of anger when he saw bottles being hurled toward his crew. He didn’t have a chance to say anything, though, as Blackbeard’s guards grabbed him again and dragged him down the gangplank toward the waiting carts.

“Captain!”

“Captain, are you—”

“Hey, get your hands off the captain!”

Law could hear his nakama protesting his treatment, but the guards ignored them, shoving Law into the final cart, where Pudding already sat primly, doing her best to look above the fray despite her bindings and the bruises littering her skin. Law gasped as his broken ribs were jarred by the careless manhandling; once his vision stopped spinning, he pushed himself into a sitting position just as Blackbeard climbed into the cart behind him and took a seat on the bench next to Pudding.

“Don’t want you getting any ideas,” Blackbeard said at Law’s raised eyebrow before ordering the carts to move. They took off in the direction of the city.

Once Law managed to leverage himself, with far too much effort, onto the bench across from the other occupants of the cart, he was able to see the streets lined with townspeople—mostly pirates and other ne’er-do-wells—watching the procession of prisoners go by. Law ducked as a tomato flew by his head, hurled alongside a creative string of curses, while Blackbeard laughed as it landed harmlessly at his feet.

“Told ya yer not the most popular figure around here, Trafalgar.”

Law shrugged one shoulder but didn’t say anything, instead trying to get a sense of his surroundings. He frowned as he noticed the number of ruined buildings and piles of rubble along the streets. He didn’t remember there being this much damage even after the Rocky Port incident—and he would have expected there to be some cleanup in the last two years from that conflict. Something must have happened recently.

“What happened here?” Pudding asked, clearly noticing the same thing Law had. “It’s an absolute disaster.”

Blackbeard frowned, looking around. “We had some intruders while I was gone,” he said dismissively. “It’s been handled.”

Pudding raised an eyebrow. “If this is what you consider ‘handled,’ I’d hate to see what ‘mishandled’ looks like.”

Law pressed his lips together to suppress a laugh, but Blackbeard was less amused.

“Shut it, wench.”

Pudding hmphed and turned away.

As the carts entered what Law remembered to have once been the main square, his eyes widened at the destruction. There was a giant radius of nothing but rubble, and numerous people were doing cleanup. They stopped working to watch the procession, cheering when they recognized Blackbeard’s men and even more when they saw the Emperor himself.

“Blackbeard’s back!”

“Finally! It’s been crazy.”

“Wait, is that Trafalgar Law?”

“It’s that bastard Trafalgar!”

“He’s worth three billion now!”

Law winced as a rock hit the back of his head, making his vision blur briefly. He gritted his teeth but refused to be baited, especially as Teach smirked at him from across the cart. He opened his mouth but closed it again when he noticed the carts in front of them splitting off in a different direction. He briefly met Bepo’s eyes over the distance, the mink looking back toward him with a worried look; Burgess jerked at Bepo’s restraints, and Law’s heart leapt into his throat at the sight of his beaten-down navigator as they broke eye contact. Law glared at Burgess for daring to treat his best friend that way, but Burgess just grinned in response as the carts headed in the opposite direction.

“Where are you taking my crew?” Law demanded, turning back to Blackbeard.

“We keep the unsold slaves over there,” Teach replied dismissively.

Without thinking, Law was on his feet and surging at Blackbeard. “I’m not going to let you—” He was cut off as Blackbeard’s hand wrapped around his throat. Law gasped as the large hand tightened. Black spots danced in the corners of his vision as he struggled to breathe. He tried to fight the larger man off but, between his injuries and the Seastone shackles, had so little strength he might as well have been a kitten; it was as if he was suddenly back on Winner Island, the sounds of the Tang being ripped apart and his nakama crying out echoing in his ears.

Helpless.

Useless.

“You’re not going to what?” Teach said dangerously. “You’re not going to let me sell your crew like the worthless scum they are?” His grip tightened, and Law felt consciousness fading before he was suddenly in a heap on the bottom of the cart, gasping desperately for air. Teach loomed over him. “You forget your place, Trafalgar. You’re in no position to let me do anything.” He sneered. “Don’t get cocky just because you helped take down a couple of old fossils.

“You’re only here because I’m curious, not because I need you. The moment I lose interest…”

Teach let the threat trail off, but it was clear enough; he’d either kill Law and sell his fruit or he’d sell Law, fruit and all, to the highest bidder.

“I told him your name. Your full name. I’m sorry.” Law’s eyes slid shut as he remembered Bepo’s words. He’d piqued Teach’s curiosity by revealing Teach and Law shared the same initial, but how long would that hold the Emperor’s attention?

Fuck. Law was as helpless to help his crew as he had been on Winner Island. Helpless like on that roof and in that cursed chair on Dressrosa. Like in that treasure chest on Minion Island. Like in front of the burning hospital in Flevance.

Law’s eyes flew open, and he gasped, breath grating against his burning throat, as he felt a boot collide with his midsection. He tasted blood in his mouth and instinctively curled further in on himself to protect his injured ribs.

“Get up, Trafalgar,” Blackbeard growled. “We’re here.”

Law blinked and realized the cart had, indeed, come to a halt outside a semi-wrecked building. The prison, Law recognized from his reconnaissance of the island nearly two years ago. Sucking in a painful breath, Law managed to push himself up onto an elbow, but that was as far as he got before new mooks were manhandling him out of the cart and through the doors into the building. Pudding stood just inside the entrance, a guard on either side of her, and she gave Law a flat look as he was dragged inside.

Law wondered, not for the first time, what she must be thinking about him—the man who’d killed her mother. There didn’t seem to be much love lost for Big Mom, but Charlotte Linlin was still her mother, and Law had helped kill her. She’d traded barbs with him while they shared a cell, but she didn’t seem to be holding a grudge the way Law might have expected. He wondered, briefly, if he could use that to his advantage before she was taken away.

“And put this one in the deepest cell we have,” Teach was telling the guards, nodding toward Law. “Even injured, he’s dangerous, so be careful.” He turned to Law. “We’ll talk soon, Trafalgar.”

Law narrowed his eyes but didn’t get the chance to reply as he was pulled down the hall. They passed numerous cells filled with prisoners, and he heard his name murmured in several of them as they passed by. They went down a flight of stairs and into a darker hallway. Law could feel the drain of the ocean’s curse on the air as they passed cells whose doors were made of Seastone.

When they reached the end of the hallway, the guards stopped and opened a cell door then shoved Law inside. Law hit the ground hard, his entire body groaning in protest. Screwing his eyes shut, he willed himself to breathe through the pain as the door was shut and locked behind him.

Law wasn’t sure how long he lay on the floor, head spinning and bile rising in his burning throat. His entire body ached, and even the effort it took to breathe had become herculean. Every time he tried to shift, his ribs barked, forcing him to lie back down. Finally, he resigned himself to lying on the floor, eyes shut and sweaty forehead pressed to the cool stone for a small amount of relief.

He drifted in and out of consciousness like that, the pain of consciousness giving way to soul-crushing memories of Winner Island, of watching his nakama fall, of hearing his ship rent in half, of not being strong enough to protect any of them. His hazy mind conjured images of his nakama standing on stage at an auction, slave collars around their neck as bids were thrown around for their lives—the lives Law had sworn and failed to defend.

In the front row of the auction sat Doflamingo, legs spread wide and arms thrown over the backs of the empty chairs draped in his pink feathered coat on either side of him.

“Fufufu,” Doflamingo laughed as he bid on the lives of Law’s crew. “They became mine the moment you made them yours, Law,” he said, cupping Law’s cheek as Law found himself sitting next to the former Warlord. “And you will always be mine, little bird.” Law shivered as Doflamingo’s hand traced his neck down to his chest. “Never forget that.”

Then he plunged his hand into Law’s chest, pulling out his heart. Law felt blood dripping from his mouth as he blankly watched Doflamingo study the beating organ in his hand with a sense of reverence. “My Heart. My Corazon,” he said, gently reaching over to wipe the blood from Law’s chin with a thumb. “He can’t have you when you’re mine.”

Law groaned, his body tensing as he felt something shove him onto his back. He slit his eyes open to see Blackbeard standing over him, frowning. That wasn’t any better than the hallucination his subconscious had created, so Law let his eyes fall shut once more, his head dropping back against the stone.

“Like we said, he hasn’t moved since we brought ‘im in yesterday, sir,” someone said.

Yesterday? Law thought fuzzily. Something seemed off about that, but he couldn’t quite place what.

“He ain’t lookin’ too good,” another voice added.

“Trafalgar.”

Law didn’t respond; he was so tired…

Then there was a hand pulling his hair, forcing him to sit up. Law hissed, and he opened his eyes to see Blackbeard kneeling next to him, a giant hand holding him up so they were at eye level. “What’s wrong, Trafalgar? You wouldn’t be tryin’ to trick me, now? Because that wouldn’t be very smart when I hold your crew’s lives in my hands.”

Law blinked heavily as he tried to piece together what Blackbeard was asking, but his brain failed to make any sense of the question, so he shut his eyes once more. Why wouldn’t they just let him rest?

“Get Doc Q,” Blackbeard ordered, and Law heard the sound of footsteps retreating.

Law groaned as he felt himself lifted off the floor and, a moment—or maybe days, Law had lost all sense of time—later, placed on something softer than the stone floor.

“You don’t get to die yet, you hear me, Trafalgar?” a voice said in Law’s ear as he drifted.

“You die when I say so,” Doflamingo continued, running a hand through Law’s hair in a mockery of intimacy. “I’m not done with you yet.”

“He’s bleeding internally, Commodore.”

A curse then, “How do we fix it?”

“It would take emergency surgery, but even then, there’s not a guarantee he’d survive considering how far along the bleed is.”

A few of those words sank into Law’s doctor brain, and he forced his leaden eyelids open to see that he was lying on a cot with Blackbeard and Doc Q standing above him.

Bleeding internally.

Emergency surgery.

Law was a surgeon.

Law had a Devil Fruit.

“I c’n fix it,” Law said, though his tongue felt heavy. The other two looked down at him with matching frowns. “If y’take these off,” he added, gesturing weakly with his wrists. The shackles jangled.

“How do I know this isn’t just a ploy to get those off?” Blackbeard demanded.

Law snorted. “Does this look like an act?”

“It’s real,” Doc Q said, frowning at Law. “And the Ope Ope no Mi should be able to fix it.”

“But the moment he fixes it, he could use it to get away,” Blackbeard concluded. “Not sure it’s worth the risk. If we let him die, we can just take the fruit ourselves.”

“Sure,” Law agreed, forcing himself to keep his eyes open. “But then you wouldn’t learn anything about a certain initial.”

Doc Q frowned, clearly unaware of what Law was talking about, but Blackbeard tensed. Law was taking a risk, but his other choice was to die in a cell on Hachinosu, leaving his crew to a life of slavery.

“Fine,” Blackbeard said finally, reaching for the keyring on his belt. Law let out a weak breath in relief. Blackbeard selected the correct key and knelt next to Law. “But these go back on the moment yer done. Try anythin’ cute, and you’ll regret it. You get me?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Law muttered. “Before I finish bleeding out.”

The moment the cuffs came off, Law shivered as he felt no small amount of strength return and his head clear enough to focus. He slowly pushed himself into a sitting position and reached for his fruit, savoring the feeling of being able to tap into it after several days without. He formed a Room just large enough to cover himself, though he felt a twinge of satisfaction when Doc Q stepped back warily as the blue dome sprang to life. Blackbeard, meanwhile, stayed close, watching on with eyes narrowed.

Focusing on the task at hand, Law performed a Scan, which confirmed his earlier suspicions: he had a concussion and three broken ribs, one of which had caused what was likely a small bleed at first, but with every subsequent blow landed since his capture, it had grown until Law was losing too much blood, leading to his earlier delirium. He had other scrapes and bruises, but those he ignored since the bleed was the most pressing issue.

Thankfully, with Law’s mastery of his fruit, it was a minor task to fix; while he would have preferred to have a scalpel or blade of some kind for focus, it wasn’t necessary; a few flicks of his hand later, and the bleed had been sealed and his body had begun to reabsorb the blood he’d lost. He also managed to start knitting the cracked bones of his ribs back together.

Then, knowing he’d never have a better chance to escape, he suddenly pushed his Room out as far as he could, but before he could find something to switch places with on another floor, the cell went cold and darkened with the active Yami Yami no Mi. A large hand grabbed Law around the arm, and he inhaled sharply as his Room fell, his connection to the Ope Ope no Mi disappearing like it had never existed—just like it had on Winner Island.

Fuck. He’d been too slow.

Law tried to jerk out of Blackbeard’s grip, but he was still weak, so Blackbeard’s hold didn’t budge. The Emperor growled as he slammed Law face-first into the cot before grabbing his wrists and locking them in the Seastone cuffs once more.

“I told ya you’d regret any funny business,” Blackbeard snarled, still holding Law’s head down. Law kept struggling, until Blackbeard added in a whisper at Law’s ear, “Yer crew is going to pay for that.”

Law stilled as horror washed through him, barely noticing as Blackbeard released him. He’d already failed them when he’d gotten them taken captive; he’d never forgive himself if they were hurt more because he’d done something stupid. That was the entire reason he’d left them behind when he’d gone to face Doflamingo.

“Think I’ll pay ‘em a visit next, hm?”

“You bastard—” Law started, turning his head to glare at the retreating men.

Blackbeard cut him off as he paused in the cell doorway. He turned to return Law’s look. “Whatever happens to yer crew from here on out is on you, Trafalgar.” He smirked, and Law went cold. “I’d suggest behaving.”

The sound of the cell door clanging shut and Blackbeard and Doc Q laughing echoed in Law’s ears long after they had left.

Nami put another tangerine in her basket before wiping her forehead. She’d been gathering fresh fruit so Sanji could make cold drinks with the weather being so warm since leaving Egghead, but even the shade of the tangerine grove didn’t fully cut the heat. She glanced up toward the sky, hoping to see some clouds, but, instead, there was a bird circling overhead. Since the newspaper had already come, it must be the mail.

She took her basket and left the grove, and, absently handing the gathered fruit over to a waiting Sanji, watched the bird descend toward the deck. Nami held up an arm to signal the bird, and it cawed its acknowledgment before dropping a rolled-up piece of parchment toward her and flying off.

That was strange. Nami snatched the falling paper from the air and looked at it curiously.

“What is it, Nami?” Chopper asked.

“I’m not sure,” she said. She pulled off the tie keeping the paper closed and unrolled it.

Pirates across the New World are invited to an auction on Pirate Island!

Disgusted, Nami was about to crumple up the paper and toss it overboard—unfortunately, these types of invitations weren’t unusual for pirates sailing across the Grand Line—when she noticed something that made her stomach drop.

“Nami?”

“Luffy,” Nami called hoarsely, unable to tear her eyes from the words on the parchment. Did this really say what she thought it did?

“Hm?” Luffy, who’d been wrestling with Usopp on the lawn, stretched his arms and pulled himself up onto the railing in front of his navigator. He balanced on the railing, one hand on his hat as he tilted his head. “What is it, Nami?”

“It’s the Hearts,” Nami said, finally looking up to meet her captain’s eyes. “Blackbeard has them.”

Chapter Text

Over the next few days, Law was left alone in his cell with little to do besides sleep—which, admittedly, his heavily injured body craved—and stew in his worry after Blackbeard’s threat against his crew. He’d blown his chance at escape, and now there was no telling what the Emperor might be doing to his nakama—if they were even still on the island. Could he have sold them off yet? The very idea made Law sick. He hadn’t been able to protect them on Winner Island, and he couldn’t do anything for them as he was now.

His only distraction came in the form of mealtimes, a hand slipping through the Seastone bars to remove an empty tray and replace it with a (partly) filled one. Since there were no windows in the cell, the arrival of meals was the only way Law had to guess at the passage of time. His guards never responded when he prodded for information.

On what Law thought was the third day after he’d last seen Blackbeard, Law’s cell door suddenly opened. Law sat up on his cot, wincing as his ribs protested the movement, just as Blackbeard walked through the door. Worry warred with rage in Law’s chest at the sight of the man, but he did his best to keep his expression neutral as Teach’s eyes met his. He wouldn’t give the bastard the satisfaction of anything else. The guards looked unsure about leaving Blackbeard alone with Law, but the Emperor rolled his eyes.

“Does he look like a threat t’me in that condition?”

Law bristled despite knowing he must make a pretty pathetic picture between his injuries and the Seastone cuffs keeping his powers locked away.

The guards shuffled their feet and mumbled something before hurriedly exiting the cell and shutting and locking the door. The Emperor snorted before turning back to Law, giving him an appraising look.

“You don’t look like yer dyin’ anymore.”

“Gee, thanks,” Law drawled. “Where’s my crew?”

“Right where I left ‘em,” Blackbeard retorted, lips twitching into a smirk as he added, “For now.”

Law gritted his teeth. “If you hurt them—”

“What?” Teach cut him off coldly. “You’ll kill me? You already had yer shot, Trafalgar. And look it where it got ya.”

Law clenched his jaw at the taunt. He would not rise to the bait. “What do you want?”

“I believe we’re overdue a conversation, you and me,” Teach said, crossing his arms. “About that name of yers.”

Law exhaled. He didn’t blame Bepo for telling Blackbeard about his name, not when he thought it was the only way to keep Blackbeard from killing Law. Still, Law would never forget his parents sitting him down on the couch the night before his first day of school, one on either side of him, telling him that he needed to keep his full name a secret. When Law had asked why, his parents had exchanged a look over Law’s head before his mother had taken his hand and said, much to Law’s frustration, “We’ll tell you all about it when you’re older. For now, just do it for us. Please.”

Law had agreed because he wanted to be helpful to his parents and believed they would tell him the truth eventually. But they’d never had the chance to make good on their promise, and now Law’s quest for the truth behind that mysterious initial had led him to this cell on Pirate Island.

When Law hesitated, Teach narrowed his eyes. “I’d remember that yer crew’s wellbeing rests on your good behavior, Trafalgar.”

“Fine,” Law ground out, seeing little other choice in the matter. “My full name is Trafalgar D. Water Law.”

“Yer mink said as much,” Blackbeard said with a nod. “Why do ye keep it a secret?”

“When I was younger, my parents told me not to tell anyone.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

Blackbeard made a derisive noise. “I could always visit yer crew, see what they have to say.”

“Bastard,” Law growled. “I’m serious. They told me they would tell me why when I was older, but they died when I was ten.”

Teach’s skeptical expression turned thoughtful. “You know, I always wondered why ye rushed into Marineford t’save Straw Hat’s life. Is it because he also carries the D.?”

“It was just a whim,” Law replied, the answer he always gave about that incident falling from his lips without a thought. “Nothing more.”

Blackbeard snorted. “And does anyone believe that when ye say it, Trafalgar? Especially when ye went and made an alliance with ‘im two years later?” But he didn’t give Law a chance to reply as he continued, “And you’ve been searchin’ for the Poneglyphs. What else do ye know?”

Law could still hear Cora-san’s words from all those years ago: “There have often been people who have the name D. who gained public notoriety, and old people would frown and mutter, ‘D. will surely bring us another storm.’ And in some places, there are people who call the Family of D. sworn enemy of the gods.”

He debated whether it was safe to give that information to Teach. On the one hand, he himself still didn’t fully understand the significance of what Cora-san had told him all those years ago so couldn’t be sure he wasn’t giving Teach dangerous information. On the other hand, this was the only thing keeping Teach’s interest. The moment he felt Law stopped being useful, he would either kill Law and take his fruit or sell him to the highest bidder. Law’s own safety was one thing, but getting himself killed was not going to help his crew. He needed to stay alive to make sure Teach couldn’t sell them off due to Law’s failure as a captain. He had to make things right.

And that made his decision for him.

“I was once told,” Law said slowly, “that those of us who carry the D. are considered the sworn enemy of the gods.”

“The gods?” Blackbeard echoed. “What does that mean?”

Law had his own assumptions, especially knowing now what he did about the Donquixote Family, but he didn’t feel like sharing those thoughts with Blackbeard. “I don’t know. I was simply told that it is said in some circles that ‘D. will surely bring us another storm.’”

“And what do the Poneglyphs have to do with this storm?”

Law shrugged. “Who says they do?” He leaned back against the wall, stretching his legs out in front of him, and smirked. His manacles jangled with his movement. “Maybe I just want to be Pirate King.”

“Nah,” Blackbeard said, amused. “That’s not it. Yer not the type.”

Law wasn’t sure whether to be insulted or not. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Yer not the type to care about titles, are you, Trafalgar? You became a Warlord then threw the title away like it was nothin’. It was obviously a means to an end.”

Law kept his expression neutral, but something twisted uncomfortably in his gut. He didn’t like other people reading him as well as Teach was doing; being seen like that was dangerous for a pirate. Law had worked very carefully over the years to craft a reputation for himself as vicious and unpredictable. The only one who had seen through the façade like it had never existed, beyond his crew, was Luffy.

Luffy had a way of looking at Law and seeing through him, of barreling past his walls like they didn’t even exist. When Luffy looked at Law, Law couldn’t help but feel like an open book, the best and worst parts of him laid bare for the younger captain. And it had both terrified Law and exhilarated him. But Luffy had looked through Law—had truly seen Law—and still held out a hand in friendship. Though he’d never admit it aloud, being seen—being known and still accepted—by Luffy had felt safe in a way Law hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Being seen by Teach, though… there was nothing but danger in that.

“So did you,” Law countered in an effort to shake off the discomfort. “You became a Warlord just long enough to get into Impel Down.”

“Zehahaha, fair enough,” Teach allowed. “But it was a means to an end on the way to becoming Pirate King. You, on the other hand…” He paused thoughtfully. “It was Doflamingo, wasn’t it?”

“What?”

“Yer end. It was Doflamingo.”

“How do you know it wasn’t Kaido?” Law retorted, raising his chin haughtily, though he couldn’t help but feel off-balance at being read so easily, especially by this man, of all people. “Or maybe that end hasn’t been met yet.”

But Blackbeard merely smirked, the bastard. Rather than continue the verbal tete-a-tete, though, he simply nodded to himself. “Ye’ve given me a lot to think about, Trafalgar. Let’s do this again soon.” He turned and walked back to the cell door. He knocked, and a moment later, a key creaked in the lock before the door opened.

Before exiting, though, Blackbeard looked back at Law, a cruel tilt to his lips. “It may have to wait fer after the auction, though. Yer crewmates oughtta make quite the prize, after all.”

“Teach, wait—” Law was halfway off the cot as the door shut behind the Emperor, the bastard’s laugh echoing off the walls and leaving Law cold in its wake.

“Oy,” Law heard one of his guards call to the other. “He didn’t eat again.”

“He on some kind of hunger strike or somethin’? It’s been two days.”

“The Commodore’ll have our heads if something happens to ‘im.”

 “If the warden doesn’t first. Oy, Trafalgar!”

When Law didn’t reply, the guards exchanged some words Law couldn’t make out before the key turned in the lock and the cell door opened. Law, lying on the floor, shut his eyes. He could make out one pair of footsteps entering the cell, just as he’d hoped.

“Trafalgar?” Law let his body go limp as a hand grabbed his shoulder and turned him onto his back. He kept his features lax despite the tip of a boot digging into his side, jarring his healing ribs. “Oy, Trafalgar!” Law remained silent. “Shit, I think he’s sick again,” the guard called to his partner. “We need to tell someone.”

“Sorry,” Law said, opening his eyes. “Can’t let you do that.”

Law swept his shackled arms out, catching the guard behind the knees and dropping him to the ground. While the man was still caught off-guard, Law pushed himself to his knees and wrapped his chains around the guard’s neck. He tightened his hold with as much strength as he could muster with his injuries and the weakening effects of the Seastone. The guard sputtered and clawed at the chains but eventually went limp.

“Oy, I don’t wanna be the one to tell the warden or the Commodore about this,” the other guard called from the hallway as Law used his shoulders to shove the unconscious guard under the cot.

His ribs barked in protest, and his strength flagged, but he gritted his teeth and shoved until the man was at least slightly hidden. That would have to do. Law then laid back down on the floor, positioning himself in front of the guard. He just hoped the dim light in the cell would be enough to hide the unconscious man long enough for Law to get the jump on the second guard.

When his partner didn’t respond, the first guard peeked his head into the cell. “What the—” he started when he didn’t see the other guard at first, only Law, feigning unconsciousness once more, on the stone floor. “Mitchel? Where the fuck are you?”

He entered the cell and slowly approached Law more carefully than the first guard had. Law waited for the man to come within arm’s reach. Just a few more steps…

“Shit,” the second guard cursed when he noticed the first guard under the cot. He came to a halt just a few feet out of Law’s reach. “What the fuck happened? Shit, what did you do, Trafalgar?”

Law’s eyes snapped open, and he met the second guard’s startled gaze. Law immediately could tell the man was going to bolt once he got over his momentary surprise, so Law launched himself at him. The guard yelped and tried to run, but Law managed to tangle the guard’s trailing boot in his chains, and the man stumbled. Law yanked on his chains, and the man went to the floor. It was almost insultingly easy to knock him out after that, even in his current state.

These were the men Teach had guarding me? Law thought, lip curling in disdain as he dragged the guard over to the cot. Pathetic. With some maneuvering that had Law breaking into a sweat as his ribs groaned in protest, he managed to get the guard onto the cot. That herculean task complete, he awkwardly wrangled the uniform jacket from the man, leaving him in his shirt sleeves. Next, Law searched both guards and found a keyring on the first man’s belt, but when he tried the keys, none opened his Seastone cuffs.

Teach has a key, Law thought, remembering the Emperor pulling a keyring from his belt to unlock Law’s cuffs earlier that week. But Law doubted that was the only copy; there would likely be a spare in the prison somewhere in case a prisoner’s shackles needed to be removed when Teach wasn’t around. But Law’s guards were clearly too incompetent to be entrusted with it, meaning Law would have to risk a search of the prison grounds to find it.

It was a huge risk, but with the Seastone shackles, he was useless to his nakama. A successful escape hinged on him being able to use his fruit.

Thankfully, Law had done his fair share of reconnaissance over the years in or around prisons so had a decent idea about the most common layouts. Keys were often kept in a safe in the warden’s office, and it just so happened that one of the Blackbeard Pirates was a former jailer in Impel Down. By reputation, Shiryu was quite strong and delighted in violence—to the point he’d been jailed in his own prison for his crimes against inmates. Law would have to play this very carefully.

Law pulled the coat from his shoulders and draped it over the second guard. He made sure the coat draped over the side of the cot to disguise as much of the first guard’s body as possible as well. If anyone happened to glance inside, hopefully it would look like Law was asleep on the cot. He knew the illusion wouldn’t hold up under any level of scrutiny, but if it bought him even a couple of minutes for his escape, it was worth the effort he’d gone to.

He then pulled the guard jacket over his own shoulders; with the shackles on, he wouldn’t be able to get his arms in the sleeves, but he had to hope the sight of the jacket itself would let him pass long enough to find the key. Law was practically swimming in the coat—the second guard was much broader in the shoulders than Law was—but that would also allow Law to hide his Seastone shackles.

Law was about to lock the guards in the cell when his stomach growled. Right. He hadn’t eaten anything for the last two days as he faked his illness to lure the guards into his cell. Thankfully, his breakfast tray had yet to be removed, and his dinner tray was in the hallway.

Law lingered just long enough to eat most of the gruel on the trays and down the lukewarm water before locking the cell door behind him, careful to avoid touching the Seastone bars. Even standing near them exacerbated the drain caused by the shackles around his wrists. As he backed a safe distance from the door, he pocketed the keyring and then headed down the hall.

He didn’t come across anyone as he made his way down the dimly lit hallway that led to his cell, though the Seastone-infused cell doors made his skin prickle as he passed, or up the steps to the hallway he’d been taken down while half-conscious upon his arrival.

When he reached the door to the next hallway, however, he could hear the murmur of voices coming from some of the cells; there were prisoners here, which meant this would be the first challenge to Law’s admittedly weak disguise.

Taking a breath, Law stepped into the hallway. He lifted the collar of the coat and ducked his chin, hoping to disguise his face a bit; between his stint as a Warlord and his latest bounty, his face had become uncomfortably recognizable. He pulled the too-big coat tightly around himself, making sure his shackles were hidden, and started walking. His body ached, but Law forced himself to take long, confident strides. This was far from the first time he’d infiltrated a location; the key was to act like you belonged. Confidence was enough to fool the vast majority of people.

A few voices hurled curses in Law’s direction, but no one seemed to realize he wasn’t actually a guard. Confidence is key. He made it down the hall without incident and headed toward the back stairwell, as he expected the warden’s office to be on an upper floor.

He made his way uninterrupted up the stairs and exited onto the second floor—that is, until he saw two chatting guards round the corner a dozen yards ahead. If they looked up…

With a muttered curse, Law ducked through the nearest door and shut it behind him. He rested his back against the door, silently urging the guards to keep going. For once, his luck seemed to hold as heard the guards pass on the other side of the door and enter the stairwell, never once pausing. Relieved, Law let out a breath and looked up to see that he’d found himself in another hall of cells. This hall was better lit than the ones on the floor below.

“Who’s there?” a voice called out from a cell down the hall. A female voice. “We’re not done with dinner yet, so you can just turn yourself around and come back later.”

Law raised an eyebrow. The voice was familiar. He knew he shouldn’t let himself get sidetracked, but he still pushed himself up from the wall and made his way past several empty cells before finding an occupied one. Peering inside, Law saw a slight figure sitting on a bed, a half-empty plate of food in her lap.

“Pudding-ya.”

Pudding started and looked up in surprise. “Trafalgar? What are you doing here?” She put her plate aside and eyed him up and down, raising an eyebrow at the coat he still held wrapped around himself. “And what are you wearing?”

“I’m getting out of here,” Law replied, glancing down the empty hall to reassure himself that they were alone.

“You’re on the wrong floor for the exit.”

Law let the sides of the coat fall open to reveal his shackled hands. “I need the key to these before I can leave. I’m looking for the warden’s office.”

“Shiryu is the warden here,” Pudding said, frowning. “I hope you aren’t planning on fighting him in your sorry state.” She made a show of reconsidering. “Then again, perhaps he would avenge my mother if he caught you.”

“Your mother was a monster,” Law said with a scowl as he pulled the jacket closed once more. “And I am no fool.”

Pudding lifted her chin and turned away, clearly not willing to dignify that with a response. Law rolled his eyes. “Do you know where the office is?”

“What’s in it for me if I do?” Pudding asked, glancing at Law out of the side of her eye.

“Do you?” Law retorted. When Pudding narrowed her eyes, Law sighed. “We both get out.” He wasn’t above making a short-term alliance of convenience, even with the daughter of an Emperor who would as soon see him dead as free. “Don’t think I can’t see your Seastone restraints, Pudding-ya.”

Pudding frowned, but she was quiet for several moments as she looked down at the cuffed wrists resting in her lap. Finally, she spoke. “I’ve been to the office twice to meet with Blackbeard. Shiryu was there both times.” She shuddered before looking back up and meeting Law’s gaze. “My mother was many things, but she was never like them. I will help you, and we’ll both get out of here.”

“Along with my crew,” Law said. Getting his nakama off the island was his main priority.

“Damn bleeding hearts,” Pudding muttered. “Fine,” she added, raising her voice and rising to her feet. She walked over to the cell door to stand in front of Law. Despite her restraints and obvious bruises and cuts on her face, she held herself upright and proud, the daughter of an Emperor through and through. “There’s something else you should know, though.”

“What?”

“Two members of your crew are here,” Pudding said. “The woman and the mink. They’re being kept in the cells closest to Shiryu’s office.”