OPERATION ICEBERG: THE TIER LIST
THEORY:
Tysha is the Sailor's Wife
TIER:
Strong Contender: These theories have a lot of textual support, but there are still some elements of uncertainty.
[Tier list overview]
EVIDENCE:
First, who is Tysha?
Tysha was a crofter's daughter from the westerlands.
According to Tyrion, she had blue eyes, dark hair, and she was slender and beautiful.
They met when Tyrion and his brother Jaime rescued Tysha from outlaws; Jaime chased the men away while Tyrion cared for Tysha.
They quickly fell in love, married, and lived in a little cottage by the sunset sea, where they constantly made love to each other for a fortnight.
When Tywin discovered the marriage, he had Jaime deceive Tyrion by telling him that Tysha was a sex worker hired to make him a man.
Tywin then had his guards gang-rape Tysha, each giving her a silver coin afterwards.
Tywin then forced Tyrion to rape her last, and give her a gold coin, signifying that Lannisters are worth more.
The marriage was undone, and Tysha was never seen again.
Eventually, Tyrion learned that Jaime lied to him about Tysha, and he now spends every moment of the story wondering where she went.
Second, who is the Sailor's Wife?
The Sailor's Wife is a sex worker who works at the Happy Port brothel in Braavos.
Her real name is unknown.
We have no description of what she looks like.
What we know about her backstory will be covered below.
So, could they be the same person? Let's find out!
Born in 273 AC, Tyrion married Tysha when he was 13 years old (in or around the year 286 AC). If they had a child, that child would now be 14 years old.
The Sailor's Wife has a 14-year-old daughter named Lanna, who also works at the Happy Port.
Lanna was always begging the singer to play her stupid love songs. She was the youngest of the whores, only ten-and-four. Merry asked three times as much for her as for any of the other girls, Cat knew. - Cat of the Canals, AFFC
Did you catch that name? Lanna. The Sailor's Wife named her child Lanna.
In the same book that introduces the Sailor's Wife and Lanna, a pregnant woman asks Cersei for permission to name her child Lanna to honor House Lannister.
Lady Graceford, who was large with child, asked the queen's leave to name it Tywin if it were a boy, or Lanna if it were a girl. - Cersei II, AFFC
And guess what? Lanna has long golden hair. Not blonde hair, no, golden hair.
Yna was there too, braiding Lanna's fine long golden hair. - Cat of the Canals, AFFC
The Sailor's Wife lost her husband when she was 14.
Tysha was 14 when she met, married, and was separated from Tyrion.
The other whores said that the Sailor's Wife visited the Isle of the Gods on the days when her flower was in bloom, and knew all the gods who lived there, even the ones that Braavos had forgotten. They said she went to pray for her first husband, her true husband, who had been lost at sea when she was a girl no older than Lanna. - Cat of the Canals, AFFC
x
I was only thirteen, and the wine went to my head, I fear. - Tyrion VI, AGOT
x
"[...] My brother unsheathed his sword and went after them, while I dismounted to protect the girl. She was scarcely a year older than I was [...]." - Tyrion VI, AGOT
Arya finds there's something sad about the Sailor's Wife.
Tysha had a face that would break your heart.
She was good that way, and quick to laugh as well, but Cat thought there was something sad about her too. - Cat of the Canals, AFFC
x
She was scarcely a year older than I was, dark-haired, slender, with a face that would break your heart. - Tyrion VI, AGOT
The Sailor's Wife can speak the Common Tongue of Westeros.
Tysha was an orphaned daughter of a crofter from the westerlands of Westeros.
"He sings a pretty song," she murmured softly, in the Common Tongue of Westeros. - Cat of the Canals, AFFC
x
She was a crofter's child, orphaned when her father died of fever, on her way to … well, nowhere, really. - Tyrion VI, AGOT
The Sailor's Wife and Lanna both seem to have a fondness for singers and love songs.
Tyrion often recalls Tysha singing "Seasons of Love" to him with affection.
When Cat slipped inside the brothel, though, she found Merry sitting in the common room with her eyes shut, listening to Dareon play his woodharp. Yna was there too, braiding Lanna's fine long golden hair. Another stupid love song. Lanna was always begging the singer to play her stupid love songs. - Cat of the Canals, AFFC
x
Cat was thinking about the fat boy, remembering how she had saved him from Terro and Orbelo, when the Sailor's Wife appeared beside her. "He sings a pretty song," she murmured softly, in the Common Tongue of Westeros. "The gods must have loved him to give him such a voice, and that fair face as well." - Cat of the Canals, AFFC
x
It was pleasant to think that men still sang, even in the midst of butchery and famine. Remembered notes filled his head, and for a moment he could almost hear Tysha as she'd sung to him half a lifetime ago. - Tyrion VII, ACOK
The Sailor's Wife only beds men who marry her; the rites are typically performed by a wine-soaked red priest or a septon at the Sept-Beyond-the-Sea.
Tyrion and Tysha were married by a drunken septon.
The Happy Port sometimes had three or four weddings a night. Often the cheerful wine-soaked red priest Ezzelyno performed the rites. Elsewise it was Eustace, who had once been a septon at the Sept-Beyond-the-Sea. - Cat of the Canals, AFFC
x
"A Lannister of Casterly Rock wed to a crofter's daughter," Bronn said. "How did you manage that?"
Oh, you'd be astonished at what a boy can make of a few lies, fifty pieces of silver, and a drunken septon. - Tyrion VI, AGOT
Tyrion obsessively asks himself, "Where do whores go?" whenever thinking about his father or Tysha. He seems convinced she is in a brothel somewhere.
At one point, he wonders if she's at a port; another time, he mentions the term "courtesan," a word strongly associated with Braavos.
And the whores were out. River or sea, a port was a port, and wherever you found sailors, you'd find whores. Is that what my father meant? Is that where whores go, to the sea? - Tyrion VI, ADWD
x
"Do you know where whores go?" When they did not respond, he repeated the question in High Valyrian, though he had to say courtesan in place of whore. - Tyrion I, ADWD
x
"Have you ever visited the pleasure houses of Lys?" the dwarf inquired. "Might that be where whores go?" - Tyrion I, ADWD
x
Selhorys may be where whores go. Tysha might be in there even now, with tears tattooed upon her cheek. "I almost drowned. A man needs a woman after that. [...]" - Tyrion VI, ADWD
x
"Do you know a woman by the name of Tysha?" he asked, as he watched his seed dribble out of her onto the bed. The whore did not respond. "Do you know where whores go?" - Tyrion VI, ADWD
The Sailor's Wife claims that her first husband was lost at sea when she was 14, and often prays for him to return to her.
The author repeatedly writes scenarios in which Tyrion almost drowns.
The other whores said that the Sailor's Wife visited the Isle of the Gods on the days when her flower was in bloom, and knew all the gods who lived there, even the ones that Braavos had forgotten. They said she went to pray for her first husband, her true husband, who had been lost at sea when she was a girl no older than Lanna. - Cat of the Canals, ADWD
x
Was that why he reeled backward, or did he see the sword after all? He would never know. The point slashed just beneath his eyes, and he felt its cold hard touch and then a blaze of pain. His head spun around as if he'd been slapped. The shock of the cold water was a second slap more jolting than the first. He flailed for something to grab on to, knowing that once he went down he was not like to come back up. Somehow his hand found the splintered end of a broken oar. Clutching it tight as a desperate lover, he shinnied up foot by foot. His eyes were full of water, his mouth was full of blood, and his head throbbed horribly. Gods give me strength to reach the deck . . . There was nothing else, only the oar, the water, the deck. – Tyrion XIV, ACOK
x
The sudden cold hit Tyrion like a hammer. As he sank he felt a stone hand fumbling at his face. Another closed around his arm, dragging him down into darkness. Blind, his nose full of river, choking, sinking, he kicked and twisted and fought to pry the clutching fingers off his arm, but the stone fingers were unyielding. Air bubbled from his lips. The world was black and growing blacker. He could not breathe.
There are worse ways to die than drowning. – Tyrion V, ADWD
x
He looked about for his wine cup, but when he found it all the rum had spilled. Drowning is bad enough, he reflected sourly, but drowning sad and sober, that's too cruel.
In the end, they did not drown … though there were times when the prospect of a nice, peaceful drowning had a certain appeal. The storm raged for the rest of that day and well into the night. – Tyrion IX, ADWD
Furthermore, the theme of drowning is heavily present in much of Tyrion's arc, to the point where it's becoming kind of weird.
(There's always potential for karma when someone has a man thrown off a ship en route to the Wall or uses wildfire to bury an army at the bottom of Blackwater Bay.)
Once Janos Slynt realized he was not to be summarily executed, color returned to his face. He thrust his jaw out. "We will see about this, Imp. Dwarf. Perhaps it will be you on that ship, what do you think of that? Perhaps it will be you on the Wall." He gave a bark of anxious laughter. "You and your threats, well, we will see. I am the king's friend, you know. We shall hear what Joffrey has to say about this. And Littlefinger and the queen, oh, yes. Janos Slynt has a good many friends. We will see who goes sailing, I promise you. Indeed we will." - Tyrion II, ACOK
x
He retched the wine up and lay in it a while, wondering if the ship would sink. Is this your vengeance, Father? Has the Father Above made you his Hand? "Such are the wages of the kinslayer," he said as the wind howled outside. It did not seem fair to drown the cabin boy and the captain and all the rest for something he had done, but when had the gods ever been fair? And around about then, the darkness gulped him down. - Tyrion I, ADWD
x
Ser Rolly grabbed Tyrion by the collar. "Let us see how dwarfs swim," he said, chucking him headlong into the Rhoyne.
The dwarf laughed last; he could paddle passably well, and did … until his legs began to cramp. Young Griff extended him a pole. "You are not the first to try and drown me," he told Duck, as he was pouring river water from his boot. "My father threw me down a well the day I was born, but I was so ugly that the water witch who lived down there spat me back." He pulled off the other boot, then did a cartwheel along the deck, spraying all of them. - Tyrion IV, ADWD
x
And the sight of me can only be salt in her [Penny] wound. They hacked off her brother's head in the hope that it was mine, yet here I sit like some bloody gargoyle, offering empty consolations. If I were her, I'd want nothing more than to shove me into the sea. - Tyrion VIII, ADWD
x
Tyrion found himself musing on how easy it would be to slip over the gunwale and drop down into that darkness. One very small splash, and the pathetic little tale that was his life would soon be done. - Tyrion VIII, ADWD
Yna, another sex worker at the Happy Port and a maegi, tasted the Sailor's Wife's blood. She claims her lover is dead and hopes he never returns, as he would be a corpse. That's a really strange thing to say, no? You always have to read between the lines with a maegi.
If you asked Tyrion, he would tell you he's been dead for a long time.
"She thinks that if she finds the right god, maybe he will send the winds and blow her old love back to her," said one-eyed Yna, who had known her longest, "but I pray it never happens. Her love is dead, I could taste that in her blood. If he ever should come back to her, it will be a corpse." - Cat of the Canalds, ADWD
x
There are worse ways to die than drowning. And if truth be told, he had perished long ago, back in King's Landing. It was only his revenant who remained, the small vengeful ghost who throttled Shae and put a crossbow bolt through the great Lord Tywin's bowels. No man would mourn the thing that he'd become. I'll haunt the Seven Kingdoms, he thought, sinking deeper. They would not love me living, so let them dread me dead. - Tyrion V, ADWD
Other things to consider:
Neither Samwell nor Arya provide a physical description of the Sailor's Wife, which many, especially myself, find highly suspicious. It's remarkably uncharacteristic of George R. R. Martin, given how much attention he devotes to this character.
On that note, why is it that among all the sex workers we encounter in the series, we learn so much about this particular one? (But again, not what she actually looks like.)
I feel super gross typing this, but one could argue that there's a twisted rationale to Tysha wanting to marry her customers after the sexual assault she experienced.
COUNTER-EVIDENCE:
Let's start with the obvious: Tyrion's not a sailor, and Tysha didn't lose him because he was lost at sea. (I'd argue it's fairly clear why she wouldn't share the real story.)
The whole point was that Tywin and Jaime lied, and Tysha wasn't actually a prostitute. Making both her and her daughter sex workers after what she experienced would be unnecessary, distasteful, and kind of offensive. (That said, I wouldn't put it past George to do it.)
What are the odds that Arya Stark runs into the Tysha in Braavos? (Roughly the same as Jorah Mormont and Tyrion Lannister bumping into each other at the other end of the world.)
After what happened to her, would Tysha really pray for Tyrion to return to her? Would she name her child Lanna? (Don't look at me, I don't know.)
The Gerion Lannister Consideration:
Gerion Lannister was Tywin Lannister's youngest and most reckless brother. It appears he was a sailor, given that he had a ship called the Laughing Lion and enjoyed the occasional adventure.
Circa 291 AC, Gerion went on a quest to find House Lannister's ancestral Valyrian steel greatsword, Brightroar, along with any other treasure that might have survived the Doom of Valyria.
Gerion was never seen again.
Almost a decade had passed since the Laughing Lion headed out from Lannisport, and Gerion had never returned. The men Lord Tywin sent to seek after him had traced his course as far as Volantis, where half his crew had deserted him and he had bought slaves to replace them. No free man would willingly sign aboard a ship whose captain spoke openly of his intent to sail into the Smoking Sea. - Tyrion VIII, ADWD
It's not unreasonable to speculate that it's actually Gerion Lannister who married the Sailor's Wife, and fathered Lanna.
But there are some issues.
For starters, the Sailor's Wife lost her husband at sea when she was 14 years old (in or around 286 AC). Gerion disappeared in 291 AC.
Gerion was in Westeros for Robert's Rebellion (282-283 AC), and Robert's marriage to Cersei Lannister (284 AC).
"[...] If you have need of a dagger, take one from the armory. Robert left a hundred when he died. Gerion gave him a gilded dagger with an ivory grip and a sapphire pommel for a wedding gift, and half the envoys who came to court tried to curry favor by presenting His Grace with jewel-encrusted knives and silver inlay swords. - Tyrion IV, ASOS
In 288 AC, Gerion had a daughter named Joy Hill, with a commoner from the westerlands named Briony.
"Joy is my late uncle Gerion's natural daughter. A betrothal can be arranged, if that is your wish, but any marriage will need to wait. Joy was nine or ten when last I saw her." - Jaime VII, ASOS
Remember, Lanna was born in or around 286 AC.
What are the odds that between Robert and Cersei's marriage and the conception of Joy Hill, 31-year-old Gerion Lannister sailed to Braavos—assuming that's where he met the Sailor's Wife—legitimately married a 14-year-old who wasn't yet a sex worker, conceived Lanna with her, left her there for reasons unknown, traveled home, never returned, and never mentioned any of this to anyone?
Let's say they met in the westerlands. Why didn't he acknowledge his wife and legitimate child like he did his illegitimate daughter Joy Hill? Why is the Sailor's Wife hiding the fact that Gerion Lannister was her husband?
Why aren't we getting the Sailor's Wife's name and description? Such information wouldn't need to be safeguarded, would it?
Why the emphasis on the specific ages of Lanna and how old the Sailor's Wife was when she lost her husband? None of this matters if Gerion is the husband. Lanna could be any age, the Sailor's Wife could be older than 14 when she met 31-year-old Gerion, and their encounter could be placed at a more logical time in history.
Why am I being told so much about the Sailor's Wife? The marriages to her customers, the drunken priest, the singing, the sadness, Yna's fear of his corpsy return—none of this is relevant to Gerion Lannister.
Most importantly, what is the point of all this? Calling Gerion Lannister a minor character in the series would be generous. He's merely a footnote in history. This is too much.
I think what's happening here is that George wants to trick you into believing her husband was Gerion, when it's actually Tyrion.
STUMPY'S THOUGHTS:
Please don't overlook that Lanna is older than Sansa.
This one theory is better than all the secret Howland Reed theories combined. For the record, if it is Tysha, I don't think anything will come of this. I would be stunned if Tyrion ever came face-to-face with Tysha again.
VOTE:
I welcome discussions. Feel free to reblog, respond, or challenge my perspective—I won't be offended by any of it.
Please note, if "no" is the eventual winner, or if it's competitive, a second poll will be conducted to determine the proper location.
NEXT THEORY:
Olyvar Frey is Rosby's ward
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fly little seagull, that rock can be home - Part 2
With the rate at which I’m finishing these chapters, I highly doubt I’m going to get the next one done before *checks notes* mid-April at the earliest, so I’m sorry in advance. Good news I guess is that I recently also passed 41k overall and I am regretting my decisions lol
Chapter 1 [FFN/AO3]
With a backwater island located, a father and daughter adjust to their new life. [10,387 words; AU where Law tries to lead the quiet life Cora-san always wanted for him]
Business was slow.
It was not that there was a lack of need for a medical professional in Hinba or on Diura as a whole. As a matter of fact, it was clear that there was an intense need for one. It was simply that—aside from the handful of new patients he did see who were mostly around his age—the residents weren’t entirely trusting of the man who simply wandered in from parts unknown and it was becoming a problem.
“They’ll come around,” Svana said as she measured Law’s fingers. She was bored and decided that he needed gloves, so therefore was going to knit some that fit his curiously long hands. He had tried to turn her down, but before he could even get a word out Nauja had been gifted mittens of her own for when the snows began to fly, the girl now wearing them happily around the house as the adults stuck to the front sitting room.
“I’m more used like a novel pharmacy than anything,” he groused. “How do you get them to listen to you?”
“I delivered over half the island’s population and haven’t lost a mother yet,” she shrugged. “They’re a prickly bunch—we tend to be so here in the South.”
“I knew this place felt like home,” he scoffed. She finished writing measurements and took some yarn and needles from her basket. “I’ve worked with guys from the South Blue before—I was well aware of what I was getting into.”
“Of course,” she agreed idly. Law wasn’t entirely certain he enjoyed the fact the island’s elderly midwife had attached herself to the clinic so readily. Boredom, perhaps? Wanting to make certain that the prior doctor’s spirit was not being trampled? If he didn’t know better, he would have guessed that there had been something between Svana and the old doctor, though that would have put such an age gap between them that he didn’t want to think of the logistics…
Just then, one of the small children who tended to run around nearby came barreling in through the front door, making Law jump in surprise; how in the hell were kids fucking with his Observational Haki? The child, however, looked out of breath, as though he had run the entire way from the school to there.
“Now what is this about?” Svana asked, barely even reacting to the boy’s sudden presence.
“There’s ships in the harbor!” the boy squeaked. “Traders!”
“Which ones?” she asked. The boy pondered for a moment as he took off his backpack.
“Books and stuff, but also house things!” He took a small box from his bag and shoved it in Law’s hands. “Miss Lanna at the shop told me to give this to you!”
“I never ordered anything… what is it…?”
“Mark-over,” the boy scoffed, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Some people use it when the traders are in town because of the sailors’ marks they got! She said you probably don’t have some for your hands. I guess it’s the stuff you have to mix…? But she said you could get some that matches your hands better if you talk to her.”
“Then I shall have to thank Miss Lanna next time I see her,” he nodded. The boy grinned, clearly proud of himself. “Now run along; I should put some of this on if I’m going to see what the traders brought.”
“Yes, sir!” The boy then zoomed out of the house as quickly as he entered it, leaving the two adults to exchange tired looks.
“Do you need me to show you?” Svana asked, gesturing to the makeup box.
“I’m a man of many talents,” he deadpanned. He stood and brought the box with him to the large infirmary, where he was able to mix the tint into the makeup with the help of the room’s strong lights until it was so close to his skin tone that he almost couldn’t tell the difference. Law thought of Cora-san as he began to brush the stuff over his hands and forearms, remembering the man’s routine that he had though of as silly at the time.
“Remember Law, you don’t need to pile it on too thick. Just enough to conceal will do.”
Fuck… it had seemed like so long ago… was it really that long? Cora-san had taught him a lot when they were running together, hadn’t he? Sometimes there was nothing to do but watch him. He would shave, put on makeup, fix his hair… usually right before they tried another hospital that he eventually would burn down. He didn’t think the medical networks they visited had fully recovered until just a year or so before he took the Polar Tang into the Grand Line…
A few spritzes of sealant and the job was complete. Law stared at his hands and arms, marveling at how different they looked without the ink being visible. He stared in the mirror as he fastened his shirt up to the second-to-topmost button, fingers trembling as he did so. Each done button made the man staring back at him more a ghost than anything, his father finally before him when he was done. Neither of his parents had tattoos that he had known of, and it reminded him partly of why he had gotten them to begin with—to stave off his brain going back to those days.
It was inevitable now; he planned on growing older than his father ever had the chance to be, and the man was certain to stare back at him from time to time for his troubles. How old would his parents be if they lived this long…? How much older than Cora-san had they been…? What would they think of him off in the middle of nowhere, playing pretend—
“Vaor! Vaor! Vaor!” His morbid thoughts took a back seat as he heard Nauja come looking for him, with her nearly throwing the door open with how excited she was. “Svana-ya said traders are here!” She stopped and stared at his hands and forearms, her head tilting to the side. “Where’d your tattoos go?”
“I covered them—can’t trust traders. Their reach is too long.”
“Since when do you know makeup?”
“You’ve seen photos of Cora-jiisan; the man made sure I can apply eyeliner in the dark.”
“Can you teach me how to do that?”
“Maybe when you’re a little older and we know your hand’s steady,” he offered. “Now come on; let’s go see what got brought into port.”
Nauja made her way to the front door while Law got his wallet from his office and left the clinic, Svana having already gone back to her own house. The pair went down to the docks and watched some of the merchants unload their ship with some of the other villagers. Law glanced over at one of the men standing there—a teacher from the school, if he recalled correctly, who looked to be about his age.
“How do we see what they got?” he asked.
“We have a couple empty spots where they set up shop—in the middle of summer, there’s often stalls,” the other man replied. He gestured down the main road, where someone was opening the shutters of what was likely a storefront. “You’re the new doctor, I take it?”
“Yeah. Tr—er…” He pretended to cough. “Sorry. Doctor Corasson Law. My daughter Nauja is the one that only shows up three times a week for morning sessions and twice for afternoons.”
“You’re good to make her go at all—her social skills have been improving the most from what I can tell. That you’d have to ask her main teacher; I just take her if there’s a coverage issue. I’m Seasbur Daisuke; Nauja’ll be in my class full-time in a couple years.”
“Thank you for looking after her.” He bowed his head slightly, Daisuke mirroring his movement. “She can be a little much.”
“Ah, she’s just a kid.”
“Yeah, but she’s my kid, so I know how much of a handful she can be.” He watched as the sailors continued to load boxes onto the cart. “What do they have, anyhow?”
“Stuff we can’t make here, mostly,” Daisuke explained. “Primarily manufactured goods, but there are some specialty imports and some different foods.” He paused for a moment, clearly mulling something over, before continuing. “Say, since I got you here and there’s still a while before they’re ready for business, my coworkers and I were wondering if we could talk to you about something.”
“Did Nauja—?”
“No, she’s fine. It has nothing to do with her, but figure might as well talk now while the kids are all distracted.” He motioned towards where the schoolhouse sat. Children were trickling out the front door, most of them bouncing and excited for what the traders possibly had for them as they headed towards the wharf.
Well, there was no time like the present, he guessed.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Law knuckled his left ear and stared at the small group in front of him. “You want me to teach what…?”
“Health class,” Jacks—the headmaster—repeated awkwardly. Both secretaries and all three teachers were there as well, each of them with a hopeful expression.
“You do realize that I don’t even know if the people on this island trust me yet to be their primary care physician, let alone teach their children anything related to the Human body.”
“Oh wait, that’s right, you also lived on the Grand Line—do you know anything about Fishfolk and Minks? To be thorough?”
Law pinched the bridge of his nose and pursed his lips for a moment, gathering himself. “I know my daughter just started and is on the young end, but what all do you teach here?”
“A bit of everything,” Rikki—one of the teachers—offered. “Reading, writing, math, geography, what we can of social studies, science, and history…”
“…and we add in things that would be useful for living on this island specifically,” another teacher—Dia—added. “This means often going outside the classroom for introductions to agriculture, animal husbandry, sailing, fishing, how to barter with merchants, placement with potential apprenticeships or further education off the island…”
“Wait: you can teach them about how sheep fuck but not about Humans?”
“It’d be nice if we didn’t have to teach them about Humans fucking,” Daisuke admitted. “I mean, you can also go over with them stuff about good hygiene and what to do when you’re sick and all that, but you’re an actual doctor… I think things might hit different coming from you.”
Whatever headache was going to result from this conversation was going to be troublesome.
“So… you want me to write a Health curriculum for ages six to sixteen purely because I am a doctor? Despite the fact I’m still a stranger? Don’t you ever have Svana-ya come in and talk to them or something…?”
“She does, but… my wife said that you trained for a while in Drum Kingdom before its downfall and then Water 7 after that—you’re much more qualified to talk about nitty-gritty medical matters.” Law stared at Jacks, unsure what in that to broach first. “My wife, Dervla, she’s the village leader. You know… the one that told you to set up shop in the old clinic.”
“Between talking to her and Svana, we’ve gotten an idea of the kind of person you are,” Daisuke added. Law exhaled heavily and was thankful that it was at least this and not, say, the entire village ganging up on him at once; he was right to suspect Svana as a possible font of information about him, though Dervla was a surprise. “We’re willing to give you a go, if you’re interested.”
“Might stave off some awkward conversations later,” Dia shrugged. “I’ve got the teenagers and the amount of things I’ve heard of getting stuck in places…”
“Alright, alright… fuck…” Law sighed. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly; this was a rare sort of opportunity to get in the good graces of the island’s inhabitants, and the sooner he could win their trust, the sooner he could blend into the background. “This would solve more problems than you’re telling me, I take it?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Jacks admitted. “Sometimes we draw straws and it’s still not enough.”
Law regretted his words before he even said them. “Then I guess I can put together something…”
The collective sigh amongst the staff was telling.
“Seas, thank you,” Jacks breathed. He shook Law’s hand with an unexpected force that wriggled the younger man’s arm and through into his body. “How long do you need to prepare the course?”
“I… uh…”
“Does three weeks sound good?”
“It…”
“Excellent—we’ll set up something for you to show us what you’ve come up with in the meantime!” Jacks seemed to be absolutely set on not giving Law a choice in the matter. “Alright, then we’ll see you towards the end of the month.”
What the actual fuck had he just gotten himself into?
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
“Vaor, can I ask a question about before here?”
It was a few days later and Law glanced up from the coursework he was compiling to see Nauja was standing awkwardly in the doorway to his office in the clinic. He reached out with his Observation Haki—cutting down on his Devil Fruit was going to be a priority—and felt no one, prompting him to put the publication down. “What is it, famke? Is it about the crew?”
“Umm…” She looked down at her hands. “I just had a thought: why do you have things from Flevance? I thought they were dangerous.”
Oh.
“They were, but I was able to fix that,” he replied. Law beckoned his daughter over and she entered the office, climbing up into his lap. She was getting big for that, he realized, and wondered when it would need to stop entirely. “One of the first things we did when we got the Polar Tang was go to Flevance and look around at all the damage. We took some things I didn’t mind ruining and experimented to see if we could divorce the Amber Lead from things that had been treated with it. After that, I was able to take things from my home and made them safe for people to touch and carry so that I’d always have a bit of the good memories with me.”
“So… that’s why you have Oma and Opa’s rings?”
“Yeah.” He felt the weight of the twin loops sitting against his chest on their chain a little more prominently, glad for their presence. “It’s how I got a lot of things, actually.” Pausing, he wondered if he should continue, then thought he might as well. “Would you like to see?”
“Oooh! Yes please!” Nauja’s face brightened at the prospect, so Law opened a Room—damn it, he had to stop that—and replaced the medical journal with a boot-box he had brought with him from the Polar Tang, one with a cobbler’s stamp from a shop on the White City’s high street. It was one of the few things from the ship he’d taken that could not be shoved in a pack, along with a box of miscellaneous books and things, as well as the small chest from Nauja’s original home in Water 7. “Oh! This box!”
“Do you remember this?” She nodded as he lifted the lid and took out the envelopes of photographs, exposing the rest of the contents scattered across the bottom. “We couldn’t bring anything too hefty with us, being in a submarine and all, but we were able to reclaim some things like jewelry and other small items.”
“Oooh, like these!” Nauja marveled, taking a pair of wire-frame eyeglasses out. She held them up to her face and then wobbled—the lens’ strength was a surprise. “Opa had bad eyes.”
“Heh, yeah, and so far I’ve got Oma’s sight, so we’re keeping our fingers crossed,” Law explained. “This was the bell Tante Lami and I used when we were sick, and these are my parents’ name tags for their doctor’s coats at the hospital—it was easier some days to grab a spare from the hospital linen closet if theirs hadn’t made it through the wash—and this…”
“…what about this…?” She pulled a lumpy envelope out and frowned. “It’s heavier than the others.”
“That’s because it’s full of that jewelry I was talking about,” he said. He let her pour the contents out onto the desktop, only to see that it was a jumbled, tangled mess. “Maybe when you’re a bit older we can go through it. I don’t know what you’d like or not.”
“It’s a mess.”
“That’s what it does when someone doesn’t keep it all separated properly.” He then had an idea. “If you want, you can get them all apart, and then I can get you a box for it.”
“That’d be nice.” She poked at the lump, where a teardrop pendant sat shimmering in the light. “So you went with Penguin-ya and Shachi-ya and Bepo-ya to get these?”
“We left Bepo-ya on the ship as a control subject, but yeah, we did,” he confirmed. “The chemistry set we’d stolen before heading over came in handy.”
“I wish I could have seen Flevance in person,” Nauja said quietly, “you know, without the danger.”
“I know, my little seagull; I wish that too.” He pressed a kiss to her hair as he gave her a one-armed hug. “So much of it was white and pastels, even in nature, at such an amount that we should have seen Amber Lead coming earlier.” Letting his eyes go out of focus, Law’s memories slipped back nearly two decades and he swallowed hard. Had it really been that long…? Was his sister’s smile that old? His mother’s gentle voice? His father’s strong hands? The sisters’ guidance? Eventually, he felt Nauja’s hand wipe at his face—when did he start crying? “Thank you.”
“For what…?”
“Being here. Listening. Accepting. It means more than you realize.”
…and honestly? He knew it was more than he realized as well, but he wasn’t about to get into that. They instead began to untangle the knot in front of them, working right until the next patient came in through the front door.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
The morning chill settled over Hinba in a low mist as Nauja grabbed her Sora backpack and ran out the kitchen door into the pre-dawn air. She couldn’t figure out why it was this cold and no one was acting like it was unusual, but was glad that it seemed like it was supposed to be normal. She watched the sun creep over the ridge as she made her way to school, where it was clear she was one of the first ones there.
“Good morning, Miss Rikki!” she grinned as she ran into her classroom. None of the other students in her grades cluster had arrived yet, which was honestly fine by her. The woman at the head desk glanced up and smiled.
“My… aren’t you here early?” Miss Rikki chuckled.
“I wanted to know if I could use the lightbox!” Nauja said. “Vaor’s still using ours and won’t give it up.”
“Is that so?” The teacher went over to where the lightbox desk was and switched it on. “What sort of things are you learning about now?”
“The digestive system,” Nauja replied happily. She dug into her backpack and pulled out a looseleaf snail photo of exposed bowels from an injured Marine and placed it on the lightbox surface along with a piece of tracing paper over it. “Isn’t it cool?! I’m not learning everything about it yet, but I am learning about when some things go wrong, and I’m gonna draw a bunch of pictures of it!”
“That’s… lovely…” Miss Rikki grimaced. She watched as Nauja began tracing; no wonder the lightbox was in use at the girl’s house. “…and you’re… allowed to do this…? Encouraged…?”
“Oh, yes! It’s the only way I’m gonna be good at drawing them for real one day! At least to start!”
“Who in the hell did Jacks and Dervla contract,” Miss Rikki muttered. He then coughed, pretending to clear her throat, before addressing Nauja again. “What else do you have to draw?”
“Different kinds of bodies and body parts, but also everything else,” Nauja explained, not looking up from her work. “I can’t bring the naked-parts pictures, because we don’t know how people are here about naked stuff even if we are doctors, and I really shouldn’t have this here, but it’s cool, isn’t it?”
“It’s… not my favorite, but it’s good to see you so excited about your work, Nauja,” Miss Rikki said, forcing a smile. She did not even notice that some of the other students had made their way into the classroom until it was too late, with some of them crowding around the lightbox.
“Whoa, that’s cool!” Nauja looked over her shoulder and saw that a small handful of her classmates were now staring at what she was tracing. “Where’d you get that?!”
“One of the books I have to read for doctor stuff!” Nauja beamed. “It’s someone’s bowels exposed from a severe lass-er-ae-shun!”
“…a what…?”
“Their guts spilled out of a sword wound!”
The small children all oohed and aahed at the gory photo and in-process drawing while their teacher tried to not cry—she really had her work cut out for her with this one.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
It was early in the morning as Law woke up to the feeling of something cold burrowing its way under his blankets. He groaned and rolled over, seeing that Nauja and Professor Nanuk had joined him in the bed, the girl attempting to cuddle in close as she could to stave off the chill.
“Could you have waited half an hour more?” he groaned.
“’S cold…” she whined.
“Seas help me if I ever try to bring you to my Home Blue.” He adjusted the blankets so she was nearly completely covered, and him only up to his neck as he held her close. “It’s cold there like you wouldn’t believe.”
“I thought southern places in the Blues were supposed to be warm!”
“Not this far south; here we’re about the same distance from the Equator as Flevance was in the North,” he murmured. It had admittedly been a while since he was this consistently cold thanks to the Grand Line’s… peculiar weather patterns, not to mention the heat involved in the Polar Tang’s mechanics that made it a hotbox on the best of days. “You’re used to living in a ship that gets really warm.”
“I miss the others,” she replied sleepily. “I miss the Tang.”
“I know you do, kiddo.” He stroked her hair as he lowly hummed a few bars of something he thought he remembered from childhood. “They’re all really proud of you.”
“Yeah…?”
“Yeah.”
Law laid like that for about forty-five minutes—he didn’t want to risk oversleeping though he sure as hell wasn’t getting up yet—before carefully removing himself from the bed and leaving Nauja nestled in the warm blankets. He glanced out the window and chuckled to himself before getting dressed—it was going to be an interesting day.
Sure enough, Nauja was shuffling into the kitchen by the time he was whisking some eggs, a blanket still pulled tightly around her. “My birthday’s next month—it should be hot outside.”
“Too bad,” her father replied. “Say… what’s the weather look like?” She sat down on her chair and groaned. “Nauja… what’s it look like outside?” He watched as she slid off the chair and went to the window, her forehead softly hitting the glass pane before she actually bothered to look outside… and gasped.
“Wait… it snows here?!” She spun around to look at him, eyes wide.
“Why wouldn’t it snow here; we’re closer to the South Pole than we are to the Equator,” he chuckled. He saw how Nauja was almost vibrating in excitement and remembered something. “You weren’t this excited when we visited winter islands in the Grand Line.”
“Yeah, well, those always have snow and this place doesn’t!” she reasoned. “Do you think it’ll snow on my birthday?!”
“It might,” he said. “If you grew up in my homeland, it would be around the warmest day of the year.”
“…because we’re on opposite ends of the Blues, right?!” Good; she was awake enough to begin thinking critically again.
“That’s right,” he replied. “Now grab what you want in your omelette out of the fridge before I pour the eggs.”
“Oh! Yes, Vaor!” Nauja happily went into the fridge and found some leftover bacon, a cheese block, and some leeks and mushrooms that looked like they were about to wilt. “These, please!”
“Good, now go get dressed properly and maybe you can play in the snow a bit before heading off to school,” he said. She then remembered she was still in her pajamas! Nauja ran back to her room, returning when she was warmly dressed and ready to play. She was almost out the door when Law pulled her back in and stuck her on the chair—breakfast first. The entire omelette was downed in almost record time before she ran out and jumped directly into a snowbank. By the time Law went outside to join her, she was already red-faced and soaked to her skin—smiling brightly in the brief morning twilight—and he knew he wouldn’t trade it for anything.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
“Hey, do you want to come play with us?”
Nauja glanced up from the book she was just about to pack away, seeing two of her classmates, Carina and Magne, standing there hopefully. Miss Rikki looked like she was still handling other students as everyone packed up to go home.
“I can’t; I’ve got chores.”
“You can do them when you get back,” Carina said.
“Yeah, it’s nothing super-urgent, is it?” Magne asked.
“Well, no…” She slipped the book into her Sora backpack. “I have to sweep up the downstairs including the clinic, feed the Den-Den, and it’s my turn to change the linens in the infirmary and sanitize the medical instruments…”
“Wait, you have to do what?!” Magne marveled. Carina’s mouth dropped open in surprise as well.
“Sanitize medical instruments…? It involves boiling them and…”
“No, the Den-Den!” Carina interrupted. “I didn’t know you had a transponder snail!”
“We have it for emergencies,” Nauja replied. “Don’t people have them for emergencies…?”
“Miss Dervla, yeah, but not a lot of people have them,” Carina said. Mange nodded.
“I don’t think I’ve even seen one.”
“Then maybe if you come over, I can do my chores after we have some fun and you can see the Den-Den!”
“That sounds cool!” Mange grinned. The three children packed the rest of their things and ran out of the schoolhouse, heading down the street towards the clinic. They barreled into the kitchen, kicked off their shoes, and dropped their stuff on the floor, with Nauja poking her head into the corridor.
“Vaor! Back from school! I’ve got friends over!”
“As long as you get your work done,” Vaor replied unseen. It sounded like he was in the consultation room.
“Okay!”
Nauja then grabbed some lettuce from the fridge and led Carina and Magne up the back steps, to the smallest bedroom, which was kept as the private combination-office-and-library. Amongst the dozens of books and papers and the pair of desks, a terrarium sat on its own table with lush greenery and a low-powered heat lamp, a snail shell sitting on a rock.
“Whoa… so that’s a transponder snail…?” Carina marveled. “Why’s it hiding?”
“It does that when it’s sleeping because it’s not hooked up to anything right now,” Nauja explained. She broke the lettuce into tiny pieces and placed it in front of the snail. When it didn’t move, she lightly scratched the shell with her fingernail. “Hey, wake up. It’s food time.”
The snail didn’t move.
“Are you sure there’s one in there?” Magne asked.
“Yeah, I’ve fed it before. Sometimes you gotta…” She picked up the shell and shook it slightly…
Only to scream as the dead snail schlupped out of the shell and plopped onto the terrarium floor.
All three children screamed, in fact, as they ran out of the office and down the stairs. While Carina and Magne decided to grab their stuff and leave, Nauja went straight to the consultation room, where Vaor had one of the fishermen, Lars-ya, up on the examination bench as he looked in his ear.
“Do you have to keep barging in on appointments?” Vaor said through grit teeth. “This is unprofessional.”
“Vaor! Vaor! It’s a disaster! The Den-Den died!”
Vaor’s face scrunched in confusion. “What do you mean ‘the Den-Den died’? We’ve still got another ten years on that thing at the very least.”
“I picked it up and it just slid out of the shell and went plop on the rock!” she whimpered.
“Fuck,” Vaor cursed under his breath. He then looked at his patient with an expression that showed he wanted to scream. “Do you know if your wife can order transponder snails through her store?”
“Lanna can get her hands on a lot of things, but she can’t work miracles,” Lars-ya shrugged. “You can try to catch a snail, but even if you have the tech it doesn’t mean it’ll work.”
“Great,” Vaor sighed. “Just… don’t worry, famke. I’ll clean it up later.”
“…but I was supposed to feed it! I must not have in time…!”
“They just do that sometimes, like people; it’s nothing to worry about. Now let me finish here with Lars-ya, alright?”
“…but… but…!”
“Just go,” he insisted, trying to not sound cross. Nauja then ran up to her room and hid under her blankets, sobbing hysterically as she allowed the severity of the situation weigh on her. She had not seen more than five transponder snails since leaving the Polar Tang, which meant that they had needed to keep that one alive! What were they going to do?! She cried so much that she almost vomited, absolutely sick to her stomach as she curled around Professor Nanuk, trembling.
The little girl did not know how much time passed before she heard her door open and felt the mattress shift with new weight. She peeked out from her blankets to see Vaor sitting there with a mug of tea waiting for her, which she took and held under her face.
“It’s all gone now,” he said, scratching her scalp. “I already got rid of it.”
“Am…” she sniffled, “…am I in trouble…?”
“Not at all,” Vaor replied. “What I said in front of Lars-ya was the truth: these things happen. I’ll figure out how to replace it later, alright?”
She nodded.
“Alright. Now drink your tea and come downstairs for chores when you’re ready. How does fish and rice sound for dinner?”
A grunt.
“Bring your mug down when you’re done,” Vaor said. He then kissed her hair and left, allowing her time to calm down on her own. It took a while of her breathing in the hot steam from the mug before she was steady enough to drink—the thought of anyone from the Polar Tang trying to call them was sharp in her mind as she tried to tell herself that if Vaor said it was okay, then it was okay.
If Vaor said he was going to fix it, then he was going to fix it. Everything was fine. Nothing to worry about, right…? Right.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
“What do you mean it can’t be done?!” Law gaped. He was standing in the general store the following day, the proprietor at least attempting to seem empathetic from behind the counter. “I need a snail to keep in contact with everyone from where we used to live! This is essential.”
“That’s all well and good, but properly-raised transponder snails are a rarity to come by in these waters,” Lanna replied calmly. “They’re often restricted to the super-wealthy and the emergency networks local leadership builds.”
“So what you’re saying is that the only person on the island who has a Den-Den Mushi is Dervla, and that’s only because she’s in charge?”
“Yeah. It’ll go to whomever succeeds her once she retires.”
“You barely get newspapers, it’s difficult to get books, and now you’re telling me that transponder snails are hard to come by?”
“You know how much of a hassle it is to get to this island,” she reminded him. “It impacts literally everything and everyone going in or out.” She watched as Law covered his face with his hands and took a deep breath—at least he was actively trying to not be a dick about it. “I know you’re probably used to more things being readily available from your time in Water 7, but this is the South Blue… not just that, but Diura… we used to sail three days to see a doctor between his yearly rounds before you showed up.”
“That’s inhumane.”
“That’s the trade-off we get for not being bothered,” Lanna shrugged. “Is there anything else you were looking for today? Maybe that’ll help.”
Law took a steadying breath—yeah, it was best to change subjects. “Do you know who is the best person to ask about woodcrafts?” She raised an eyebrow and he took a piece of paper from his pocket and showed it to her. “I want to know if anyone can copy this pattern.” The woman studied the paper curiously, taking in the intricate design of flowers, leaves, and grasses that had clearly been copied from a book.
“This Lvneelish?”
“No, but close enough,” Law replied. “It’s from a book on the North Blue that Dr. Ghar-Spartel had. My daughter mentioned she likes it, and I was wondering if I could get something like this on a jewelry box.”
“That is a good question; a lot of us are good with carving, but this is delicate work.” It was then that the chimes on the door rang and someone else walked in—a woman looking miserable in her last months of pregnancy. “Ah, Marla, just the woman I want to see.”
“Daisuke will not pass your daughter in geography if she keeps doodling in class and not turning in homework,” Marla groaned as though they’d had that precise conversation before. Lanna shook her head.
“It’s for the Doc.” She gestured towards Law with a jerk of her head. “Your dad still do woodcarving jobs on the side?”
“Last I checked.” Marla was passed the paper and she narrowed her eyes at it. “This is definitely a Northern design, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Law admitted, almost sheepish. “I haven’t properly met your father yet—do you think he can carve something like that on a small box?”
“We’re on break at the shipyard; let me get what I came here for and you can ask him yourself.”
“Her dad’s the best this side of the current,” Lanna smirked. “How about I just keep an eye out and an ear open for the other thing we talked about, hm?”
“Argued about what she can and can’t get, eh?” Marla wondered, a near-consoling tone to her voice. Law shrugged as she received a package and almost jumped out of his skin when she linked arms with him. “Come on—time’s wasting if you want this to be a secret. This is a secret for your daughter, right?”
“Uhh…”
The grin that crept across Marla’s face was nearly predatory, he decided, as he was forcefully dragged from the store. Hopefully it was going to be as pain-free as possible… though… his hopes were not exactly high.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
It was well after lunch when Law stepped into the schoolhouse, glad that the building was kept warmer than most. An entire week’s worth of new snow and it felt as though it was refusing to let up, which was great to only children and people who didn’t have to leave their own warm places. He left his hat on as he shed his bag and coat, putting them up on a visitors’ peg near the door as his thoughts were lost in the lessons he was going to teach that day. The oldest group had sexual consent, the little ones had hand-washing, and the middle group was—seas help him—getting into why bathing was important…
“So good to see you, Dr. Law,” purred a voice. He nearly jumped out of his skin, only to see that it was the younger of the secretaries, hidden by her desk’s position in regards to the door. Taking off his hat, he put his mittens in it before hanging it too on a peg.
“Same, Janka-ya,” he replied tersely. He honestly had few bits of leftover patience for niceties that particular day, but he was willing to perform if it kept him from being hounded with questions. Get in, teach the day’s lessons, then leave; that’s all he really wanted to do. “Are classes on time today?”
“They seem to be,” she replied. “I don’t think any are behind, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“A little,” he admitted. Law went over to the radiator and held his hands close to it, glad for the device’s intense warmth. “I want to get the oldest kids’ lesson done before they get sent off to their jobs.”
“Surely you don’t have to get to that immediately,” Janka frowned. Wait, no, that was more of a pout, wasn’t it? ��You can wait here with me until Dia is ready with her group.”
“Don’t bother me, Janka-ya—I’ve got a lot I need to think about to keep the kids on their toes,” he replied. Which was true; he had only taught a handful of sessions thus far and the schoolchildren’s capacity for curiosity knew little bounds. His hands finally warmed up and he turned, only to see that Janka was now standing right next to him. How…? “What?”
“You cold?” she asked. What were her eyelashes doing? Was there something in her eyes…?
“If you haven’t noticed, it’s snowing outside,” he replied. “Usually that accompanies cold weather; I’m fine now.”
“Pity. I could help you warm up in the future. Maybe… if you come a little earlier…?”
“I have patients that need attending and a curriculum to keep on top of; I don’t have extra time.”
“You sure a curriculum is the only thing you need to keep on top of?” she asked. He tried to move and she blocked his way. “Maybe… you need something to be on top of you?”
Janka winked and suddenly everything clicked into place in Law’s brain—oh, fuck, she was flirting with him! He then noticed how he was essentially trapped between the wall, the heater, and the secretary who was sizing him up with very specific intent. Swallowing hard, he pressed himself against the wall, trying to stay as far from her as possible.
“That is very inappropriate, Janka-ya,” he replied shakily. “This is not the place for that.”
“Then maybe I can warm you up at my place…?” A grin crept across her face that made his chest feel tight and his stomach awful. “Your place…?”
Law’s brain felt as though it was shutting down. Seas, when was the last time someone propositioned him like this? Propositioned him at all?! It was before he had his homicidal aloof loner reputation as one of the most notorious Supernovas, that was for certain, and he absolutely hated how helpless he felt as he was cornered. Couldn’t use his Devil Fruit without questions, had no access to Conqueror’s Haki, he was afraid to even touch her…
“Dr. Law…? Are you, uh…?” Law looked towards an open door that had a small handful of teenagers gathered around it, staring at the scene as though they walked in on something private.
“Ah, class is in session! Excellent!” He slid along the wall until he was out of Janka’s grasp and grabbed his bag on the way in, not allowing himself a second to breathe until he was in the classroom with the door shut.
“You haven’t seen her with some of the traders, have you?” Dia, the teacher, groaned in exasperation. Law shook his head silently, the man still a bit in shock at the interaction. “I’ll talk to her.”
“Thanks,” Law squeaked. He then took a deep breath to calm himself and looked at the students. “Alright class, today we’re going to be talking about why what Miss Janka did was not okay. Everyone to your seats.”
At least he was able to do that.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Despite the nights beginning to grow longer, Law understood how fortunate he was that there had been extra rooms in the clinic’s living areas as soon as the air grew a chill. The clinic was likely built to accommodate two or three families so medical staff had no problem living on-site. What it meant for him, however, was that there was plenty of extra room to move about in the cold months, allowing for a room meant specifically for training.
“Right here, famke,” he said, bringing her through the motion of stabbing a practice dummy. Her knife was in one shaky hand, grip backward so the flat of the blade could rest along her forearm when not being embedded in someone’s torso. She frowned at it, not enjoying the movement.
“It’s hard to hold,” Nauja pouted. “Why can’t I hold it like normal?”
“You won’t always be able to grab it like normal,” he reasoned. “Sometimes you will have to grab it weird and not have time to adjust the grip.”
“Like when?”
“Like when you have to take the knife from someone’s sheath and bury it in their side.” Law then placed his hand over Nauja’s and pressed the tip of the knife against the dummy’s side. “Now, what will this hit?”
“The… ninth and tenth ribs,” she replied, brow furrowed as she thought. She then adjusted the knife. “This way will go between them and hit the left kidney and part of the stomach. The other side is the right kidney and the gall bladder.”
“Good, good.” He then let her adjust her grip and placed the knife tip back against the dummy’s side. “Thrusting up here hits what?”
“The spleen.”
“…and maybe…?”
“Maybe a… lung…?”
“Good.” Law then saw that Nauja was frowning as she stared at the knife in her hand. He could tell something was bothering her. “What is it?”
“I know this is in case someone tries to hurt me, but…” She crinkled her nose. “Aren’t we doctors? This feels a lot like how to kill.”
“Not at all,” he assured. “You need to know where things are in the body if you’re going to draw them, or treat them medically, or fight off someone without hitting a vital organ. That takes a lot of practice.”
“…but why would I need to know how to fight here?”
“You never can be too prepared.” Law pressed a kiss into her hair and let out a low chuckle. “Alright, now show me again where to stab to get under the sternum again.”
Nauja wrinkled her nose and placed the blade accordingly.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
It was finally Nauja’s birthday. Although it was still winter, the weather had warmed just enough to turn everything slightly slushier. Heavy, wet snow fell the entire day, encouraging Law to make the prudent decision to stay inside. At least Nauja herself didn’t mind, as she enjoyed days where she stayed in and was allowed to study alongside Law. He surprised her with umeboshi onigiri for lunch and Flevench-style pea soup for dinner, afterwards bringing the celebration into the front sitting room where a fire was already warming the hearth from “business hours”. Flexing his Devil Fruit for the first time that week, he shambled three wrapped packages onto the table next to the cake, which made his daughter gasp.
“Really?!” she marveled. He nodded silently, allowing her to pull the nearest package towards her and open it up: an art and drafting set filled with pens and pencils—regular and in colors—as well as a couple sketchbooks and some varied straight-edges, measuring utensils, and other miscellanea. “Wow! That’s so cool! Thanks!”
“Don’t thank me just yet; open the rest of them,” he chuckled. She pulled another package towards her and tore the paper off—a wooden box, decorated with an elaborate pattern that had been carved into the lid and sides.
“What is it?” she asked, tilting her head. She opened it carefully to find that it was lined with a blue velvet and had many different internal sections.
“It’s a jewelry box,” he explained. “Macksson Jan made it. We can put the things from the envelope in there to keep it nice.”
“…oh. Okay.”
Law watched as Nauja stared at the intricately-carved box, running her fingers lightly over the design. She sucked in a sniffle as tears began to well in her eyes. “Famke…?”
“Law-san… I don’t know what I did to deserve this,” she said quietly. She sniffled again and hiccuped before wiping tears away with the heel of her palm. “I’m just some kid Bepo-ya found…”
“Where did this come from?” he wondered aloud. His hand found the top of her head, where he began to scratch lightly at her scalp. She struggled to not cry and it made his heart feel both heavy and dangerously fragile. “I thought we’ve been through this.”
“I know… but…” She sniffled loudly, trying to suck up some snot back into her nose. “It’s hard…”
Ah. Something was making her rethink things, whether it was a difficult time adjusting, or maybe something someone said, or possibly even her own mind beginning to play tricks on her. She was a bit young for it, but then again… he had been when that first started himself. Children generally suffered from moods as they grew emotionally and she was being subject to one. The only thing now was how to get her out of it…
…and maybe… maybe it was good to have all the cards on the table. His daughter deserved that much, after all.
“Nauja?” He gently turned her face towards him and brushed away more tears. “Can I tell you something? Something I don’t know if I ever said out loud in words before?”
“Not… not even to my uncles?”
“No one on the Polar Tang knows this.”
The girl sat there and digested those words. Something no one else knew? No one at all? She placed the jewelry box down on the cushion next to Professor Nanuk and adjusted so that she was sitting cross-legged on the couch.
Please.
“When I was your age,” he began, each word measured and deliberate, “before I met Cora-san, before we knew Amber Lead was killing us, I went to church. My parents took your Tante Lami and I there once a week, most weeks, the last time being about a month before… before I lost them.”
“Church…?” She tilted her head curiously. “What’s that?”
“It’s a place for religion… for faith… for spirituality… for the part of us that can’t be mended with bandages and stitches and medicine… when done right, a church is a place where people can find peace, understand things in different ways, be a loving community, and be inspired to do good, if not there then elsewhere in their lives. It can augment mental and emotional therapy for some people and help keep them even-keeled between sessions. Again, when done right, it has the ability to be highly valuable.”
“Was it… not done right…?”
“I think it tried, which is the best most churches can do.” Law took a deep breath as he thought back to hardwood pews and soft candlelight; he could almost smell the sweet and heady mulberry incense and hear the bells and organ pipes in the rafters. “The church in Flevance would do things like talk about salvation—unconditional freedom and forgiveness in this life and the next—which wasn’t something I really understood. When you grow up privileged in a place where even the poor are wealthy by other countries’ standards, such a thing is a difficult concept to grasp, especially as a child. I was more concerned with other stuff… more irritated with other stuff…”
“Like what…?”
“‘Everything happens for a reason’,” he said, the words flowing over his tongue for the first time in so, so long. “The church ran the schools for younger students in Flevance and it was something the religious sisters and brothers we had as teachers said. Often. I didn’t believe it then and not for a long, long time after.”
“Why…? Were they mean?”
“They could have been, in another time or place, but no they were very nice. They loved all of us children the same whether we went to church or not, whether we believed what they said or not, and said that if we were to ever think of anything preached to us as true, it was that. We had to find our own way to make sense of it, but they encouraged us to take that phrase to heart.”
“So… everything…?” Nauja puzzled over that for a moment. “I thought things happen because people do or don’t do things.”
“You are correct, but it’s something they said to make us feel better here, to help make sense of things in here.” He tapped the middle of her chest with two fingers, then her forehead. “I thought they meant stuff like when Tante Lami got into my room and tore it apart in play, or when my parents had a patient who passed away unexpectedly, or when a classmate would break a bone after slipping on ice. That wasn’t it at all.”
“What was it?”
“It was preparing us, in case one of us would not find salvation with the others,” Law admitted quietly, his voice cracking slightly. “It doesn’t mean what happens is always right, or good, or that you will ever understand why; it’s hopefully something that clicks into place later on so that the past doesn’t weigh the better parts of you down. By thinking about it, you can move forward and not let ghosts haunt you.”
Nauja looked away, her gaze towards the art set on the table yet far-off and distant. Her father waited for her to say something, yet she did not.
“If I had not been the only one to live,” he continued, “then I would have never lost my faith in the good in the world. My rage would have never led me to Doflamingo or to my Devil Fruit. Amber Lead would have killed me if bullets and fire didn’t. I would have never had to relearn what was good with Cora-jiisan or the crew, I would have never gone on the journey I did, and I certainly would have never agreed to stop at the island we met on.” He watched as she drew up her legs and hugged her knees in an effort to become smaller. “I would have never known that you needed me like I needed Cora-jiisan, and I would have never realized that what he wanted was not for me to go headlong into a suicidal revenge mission, but to pass on the love he gave me.” Holding her gently by the shoulders, he waited until she looked back at him to continue. “I don’t know what forces brought us together if any did at all, but what I do know is that you are my reason, Trafalgar D. Water Lawsdottir Nauja. It doesn’t have to make sense to you just as much as it needs to make sense to me.”
Errant tears were now streaming down both their faces—too much more and things would become ugly.
“You lived,” he stated. “That’s what you did to deserve to inherit love. I lived, and that’s all I needed as well. If more people knew that, then maybe I could take you home to my family, or you might know first-hand how much of a klutz Cora-jiisan was. If more people understood… then the world might be different.”
“If there was a church here, would you take me?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
“I…” he swallowed hard, “I don’t know.”
“Would you… go by yourself…?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did Oma and Opa and Tante Lami and Cora-jiisan find it? Salvation?”
“I like to think they did.” He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, where he lingered for a moment as he drew strength from her presence. “We’re here for a reason, famke, and so far, being your father and seeing you celebrate birthdays is enough for me. Now come on; open your last present.”
Nodding quietly, Nauja took the third parcel from the table and dragged it into her lap. She slid her fingers under an opening in the paper and stopped.
“I’m the only one in school who was adopted outside their blood-family,” she admitted. “A couple kids live with grandparents, and one girl lives with her aunt and uncle, but there’s no one else like us.”
“…and that too is for a reason.” He gently rubbed her back. “Come on. Open it.”
Nauja carefully tore at the paper and revealed a small stack of books that she quickly looked through: the newest Sora volume, a volume of reference poses, a collection of Northern folktales, and a book on unique localized architecture. She opened the last book and saw in the index not only a section on her father’s hometown, but hers as well. She stared at a photo of a canal full of gondolas and yagara bulls and sniffled.
“…as long as you need me, and longer still,” he murmured. She looked at him with watery eyes and he ruffled her hair. “So, what do you think?”
“Thank you, Vaor. I love them.” She then glanced over at the cake that was still sitting on the table and began to fidget. “Can we…?”
“We can,” he replied. Nauja breathed a sigh of relied—something to solidly change the subject, and not only that, it was whole cake all to the two of them! It was perfect.
As they ate their cake, Law sat on the couch with a book of his own, while Nauja knelt in front of the table as she began to test her new drafting supplies and reference materials. He glanced over once in a while to see that she was paying close attention to the particular way that elevated canals worked. Had she lived next to one? He couldn’t remember…
Eventually, Law left Nauja in the sitting room as he went to put together some tea for her and pour a couple fingers of a gifted whisky for himself. Was he technically on-call? Yes, but if he couldn’t drink the stuff during a special occasion on a full stomach, when could he? He brought the teapot, their Sora mugs, and the whisky back on a tray, watching her nose wrinkle at the sight of his drink.
“That’s stinky,” she scowled.
“Your opa drank it, as did both of my opas,” he shrugged, sitting down to lean back into the couch. “I don’t expect you to like it—you didn’t even like that sip of beer Ikkaku-ya gave you.”
“Don’t remind me,” she cringed, pouring herself some tea. They took more cake to have with their drinks, both quiet as they continued their dessert in peace.
When he was nearly done with both cake and whisky, an odd feeling settled over Law. It was as though a weight shifted on his shoulders—not quite lifted and yet eased in a way. Two years prior, he would have not been able to predict that this was ever in his future. Seas, he wouldn’t’ve been able to predict it when he first saw Nauja, the girl nearly half-feral and malnourished from neglect, that she would be the entire reason behind his retirement. Now, after everything, she knew more about him than even Bepo. She understood him and his motivations in a way no one else did, even if it hadn’t all set in yet, and there was something… oddly reassuring about it.
Eventually, all children were likely to hit their limits and Nauja was no exception. He chuckled inwardly as her head bobbed in exhaustion, her fight to stay awake nearly valiant in a way.
“You can go to bed if you want,” he said. She shook her head.
“I wanna stay up,” she whined. Nauja abandoned her books and crawled up onto the sofa and cuddled into Law’s side. He let his arm drape around her and she hummed in happiness—the sharpness of the whisky, the smokiness of the fire, the fragrance of the tea, the sweetness of the leftover cake, the electricity and rumbles of the oncoming change in the storm, the warmth of each other and the flames… it was going to be a birthday she would never forget, and neither would he.
Eventually, the storm began to roll in and Law began to drift off himself. He imagined the smell of the fire as Cora-san’s cigarettes, as the fireplace in his parents’ house, as something warm and comforting beyond his daughter… a reality where some things went a little more his way…
Just before he was nearly asleep, a thudding pounding rocked the door, jolting both father and daughter awake. Law went to the door to open it, only for Daisuke to come in, supporting his wife Marla with one arm draped across his shoulders. While both were windwhipped and drenched from the heavy snowfall, she was clearly in pain, which set off alarm bells in Law’s mind.
“You have to help,” Daisuke said between heavy breaths. “She’s gone into labor.”
“Wait… where’s Svana-ya?”
“She’s seeing to her brother’s younger granddaughter,” Marla said. She took a deep breath as her hand went to her stomach. “This one wasn’t supposed to come until next month.”
“…but obstetrics isn’t exactly my field of expertise…”
“I don’t think this baby cares,” Daisuke replied as Law began to support Marla from her other side. He caught sight of Nauja peering at them from the couch and he blanched. “What about…?”
“Hey, famke, remember the illustrations about childbirth in our textbooks?”
“Yeah…?”
“Well get ready, because you’re going to help in-person.” Law led Marla and Daisuke back to the operating theater and helped sit the woman down before beginning to grab things off of shelves and out of cupboards. “Get Marla-ya one of the spare gowns; I don’t want her in those soaked clothes.”
“Yes, Vaor!” Nauja chirped. She scurried back out of the theater and down towards the linen cupboard, giving the adults precious seconds to themselves.
“When was the last time you helped deliver a kid?” Daisuke asked. Law shook his head.
“I can in theory, but it wasn’t part of my clinicals.” Which was the truth, but the ins and outs of his unorthodox medical training wasn’t something that really mattered at that moment.
“Not even for your own daughter’s birth?” Marla wondered as she peeled off her soaked jumper.
“Lot of reasons, long story, but we’re not going to talk about that now.” Nauja then returned with a fresh patient gown, which she shoved in Marla’s hands. “Alright, now get the lights and wash your hands really good.”
“Yes, sir!”
Daisuke shot Law one final incredulous look before Marla caught their attention again as a contraction caused her to hiss in pain. They left her side only to scrub in best they could, because there wasn’t long before the woman began full-on cussing.
What followed next was one of the most stressful hours of Law’s life. He was never going to admit that he’d only ever glanced at obstetrics in passing, with Penguin and Shachi’s giggling immaturity having been the most those texts had gotten use until he went over the topic with Nauja all those months ago. It made him glad he had, as both of them were thrown into the terrifying and messy situation headlong, for at least they were both somewhat (if poorly) prepared. Eventually, a baby cried its first cry and was nestled in his mother’s arms, Marla so relieved and exhausted she could barely speak.
“Storm,” she breathed. “I think that’s his name.”
“Not after your dad?” Daisuke smirked.
“No—his arrival was something to weather, like what’s going on outside.” She raised her eyes towards Law and Nauja, who were both beginning to crash as they cleaned up on waning adrenaline. “We’re doing fine; you two should go rest.”
“Marla-ya, I…”
“I’m a mom now and that means I can boss people around,” she joked. “In all seriousness, you look like you’re going to fall over.”
“We’re okay,” Nauja insisted. She rubbed at her eyes, the late hour getting to her. “We can stay up…”
“I’ll get you if we need anything, how about that?” Daisuke offered. Nauja nodded at that with a tiny squeak, while Law exhaled heavily. Fine—he had them there.
“We’ll be in the waiting room if you need us,” he said. Law then ushered Nauja out so that the new family could have some privacy, the pair finding their way back to the front sitting room. The fire in the hearth was nearly out, so he put a couple more logs on and made sure the flames caught before sitting down a bit too hard on the couch.
“Vaor…?” Nauja whispered as she joined him, cuddling in close.
“Hmm…?”
“We’re here because someone needed to help Storm be born, right? Is that the reason?”
“Maybe.” He smiled hazily at her and let out a chuckle low in his throat. “Slaap goed.”
“Sleep well,” she echoed, curling back up into his side. He wrapped his arm around her and they stayed like that until Daisuke woke them five hours later with food ready in the kitchen.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
A/N: I don’t know how many of you all realize how Catholic-coded Law is and when I say Catholic-coded I mean after a happy upbringing there was an awful event that made him lose his faith and question everything he’d known, only to slowly get back to accepting what he was brought up in and where he is currently, even if a lot of what he sees at-large makes him uncomfortable and by no means has erased the fury he once felt. My circumstances were (obviously) not the same, but a lot of the emotional journey that Law goes through via Flevance and Amber Lead really strikes a chord with me due to applicability with my own faith journey and that’s part of why I adore his character so much.
Also, just as a disclaimer, once I wrote Visiting Home [FFN/AO3], my brain went and decided that something similar probably happened in canon, so to me it’s my emotional support fanon, and by emotional support I mean crying happens a lot.
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