This was written for opbigbang 2014-2015! Special thanks to my awesome partner, 0blue-bird0 (tumblr account) for making four beautiful pieces of artwork for this story, and also special thanks to my amazing beta, everLastingTime (ff account)! Thanks for bearing with me, it was my pleasure to work with you guys!

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece.

The sky is drab and the clouds are about to cry, the unmistakable before-rain scent mingles with the putridity of greasy smoke – it creates something much heavier and a more indefinable smell, like desperation, or the suffocating presence of death that always lingers on the battlefield. It isn't a nice scenery, the ashes and ruins, the ground soaked with spilled blood.

It wasn't necessary, all the destruction, Bateriella could have just laid their armor down, but they chose going down fighting. It's nice to be gifted with bravery, but maybe the gift of survival instinct and common sense would have come in handier in their situation, he thinks.

Truth be told though, were Flevance in Bateriella's situation, he would have done the same. He would have to say that Flevance and Bateriella are very similar in this aspect, both are willing to do anything to bring down the reign of the Celestials, the only difference lies in luck – or more like in location.

Bateriella is located in the Southern peninsula of the continent, with easy access to the central with it being sweeping plain land, while Flevance is high up in the Northern region, surrounded by giant mountains and covered in snow for the majority of the year, making it near impossible to approach for those who aren't used to the rough climate of the North.

After years of war, negotiations began, and the fruit serving as a contract between the monster of an empire and the North Kingdom, stating that while they can keep their flag and rule the country as they wish, they must pay taxes and are obligated to back up the Celestials in times of need. When the uprisings in the East has spread to the South and climaxed in Bateriella, Flevance, being the under the authority of Trafalgar Law, had the honor to do so – note the oozing sarcasm here – and briefly, that's the story of how a Northern Duke happens to be far down South.

It's been nearly three weeks since the battle of North and South began, the constant back-ups consisting of untrained peasants the city has gotten from various other cities located Southern from there have drawn out the war far too long to his liking. He would rather be at home right now. They have managed to catch the rebels off-guard with a well-conceived raid the previous night. There was no way for the enemy to believe that Bateriella could still win, he's sure of that.

He stops as he watches the gathered slaves being led in small groups, almost like dogs on leashes, different expressions displaying on their faces. There is a whole spectrum of emotions ranging from defeated resignation to determined defiance, eyes blinded by tears or fierce glares or stares into nowhere. Postures vary between graceful and proud, some backs stooping under the weights of their lives gone wrong. There's a woman crying for her children, her face contorted with misery, a limping old man biting at the roots of his beard as his teeth slide down his bottom lip.

He decides to go back to the camp and finally get some well-deserved rest, when shouting catches his attention. His eyes narrow, curious as to what the fuss is about, yet a spark of irritation is already forming inside of him. People gathering always means trouble, of which usually he is to take care of.

Following the sound of voices he finds a small pother in front of a surprisingly sound-looking bar, swords already being unsheathed, loud profanities mixing with hissing and scandalized yelling. He uses his commanding tone - the one he had made sure to be feared among his men - to create a path for himself, only the ones standing close to him hear him though as his voice is deafened by a particularly loud curse.

''What's going on here?'' the crowd starts to part for him, words die in throats, angry expressions shift into ones of uneasiness. More and more people begin to notice him and he finally gets a chance to move closer.

In the pregnant silence, the familiar, disgusting sound of snapping bones sounds disturbingly loud and the following cry of agony is downright earsplitting. He finds a man of his own on the ground, with a teen sitting on him, his figure dwarfing next to the bulky man he is currently holding down, his small and grimy fingers tightly attached to a neck he could barely span.

He looks at Law then, his dark eyes wild like a trapped animal, driven purely by instinct and willing to do anything to survive. Dangerous. He glares at Law, and growls, never letting go of his prey, the unfortunate victim struggling the whole time.

''If you know what's good for you, you'll let him go and don't make me drag you off myself''

His death grip around the purple faced man doesn't loosen, his eyes trained on Law's face, neither of them looking away. The defiant look he gets has Law thinking that the boy won't obey, but after a moment or so the kid tentatively releases the now passed out man, without even bothering to check the damage he has made.

Law's lips automatically curve into a smug smirk while the teen frowns at him, otherwise Law can't read his expression. The kid slowly begins to stand up, rubble imprinted on his bare legs, dirt covering the deep abrasions on his skin, and while Law has seen wounds hell of a lot nastier than that, he still almost grimaces when he thinks about the infection that is sure to come.

''Good." he says simply, signaling with a motion of his hand that he can be taken. Two soldiers grab the boy, one by each arm, and Law notices how sickly thin he seems. The cuffs click together around his wrists, and the kid bares his teeth at that, revealing a partly healed wound on his inner lip that opens from stretching the skin. Law is tempted to follow the trail of blood with his tongue, from the small chin up to those chapped lips.

Bewildered by his own thoughts, he takes a better look at him. His clothes are dark and torn, his greasy black hair sticks to his round face, his lean body is covered in cuts and his tan skin discolored from bruises and dirt. Even so, despite his rugged look, somehow he still manages to look attractive, at least in Law's opinion.

As the kid is escorted by four men – edified by the previous accident -, most likely towards his death, something tells Law that he should do something about it, to spare his life, but he shakes it off. He would have choked that man to death had it not been for Law to interrupt, and the people who fought side-by-side with him are more important than some kid that he would take for a spin.

Even after fighting throughout the previous night, and spending the following day searching for survivors, the desire to sleep doesn't seem to come for them. The night found the soldiers drinking, dancing and laughing, and in generally having a good time, and even Law lets his guard now – and that was the mistake that nearly cost him his life.

Law honestly thought that on the day he meets his demise, he wouldn't be scared. That when death's scythe would hover over him, he would straighten his back and offer his neck for a clean cut. Instead of a scythe though, he only sees a sword, of a smaller caliber than his own, yet still splendid and mighty and so threatening as no sword has ever been.

He should not be surprised, he knows that; fool as he was with walking into a trap so easily, he shouldn't have expected anything else. He also knows that acting smart after a mishap is easy, but he still wants to slam his head against something, asking himself how he could not have noticed, even as there probably hadn't been any way to figure it out with such a small amount of contact with his attacker.

What's probably worse though, is that he had noticed that something is off, a few minutes into the beginning of his flimsy assassination. It had been suspicious how the young man wearing their uniform was keeping one hand behind his back while offering Law a new mug of beer, and while it rang the alarm bells in him and made the hair on his neck stand on end in warning, he decided to ignore it and allowed the sweet alcohol to put his mind to rest and lull him into bliss.

The darkness covered up the destruction, the death, the blood around them, the night hid any evidence of the raging war. The flow of victory and the taste of triumph made them cocky and reckless, the mental exhaustion demanding celebration, and they were drawn right into it like moths to the fire.

They deserved their fun, they thought. The uprising in the South has been treaded out, the contact between Flevance and The World Government was as good as extended, and with that accomplishment, he could relax just for once, he thought.

When he snaps out of his drunken stupor is when it was already too late, only when he catches a glimpse of the flame of the campfire reflecting on the blade of a raised sword when his brain registers the danger and senses the radiating bloodlust. Out of instinct, he reaches for his sword, only to grip air, and he curses, his drunken mind shutting down instead of reeling to find a way to escape.

Everything sounds and seems distant – how the elated laughter and shouting dies down or how the exultant dancing stopped -, his frantically beating heart deafens the noises and his eyes are moving too fast to actually make out his surroundings. He forces himself to focus his eyes on his attacker, and everything is slow, too slow, movements taking forever, the sword swung at him, the blade shiny like the stars and thin like paper, a young face distorted by bloodlust and hatred, a shit-eating grin appearing in anticipation, shoulders shaking with a silent, excited chuckle, next to him a stray spark from the fire falling to the ground.

Law wonders if his head would simply fall to the ground like that, as morbid as it is, it makes him just a little pleased that it would be more spectacular than that.

There's a heavy push from his right side, he's shoved out of the way and with that things are kicking back into motion. The impact with the ground too fast to comprehend, the weight on him apparent and a pained moan but he can't decide whom it belongs to.

The world blacks out, and it takes him a moment to feel the sharp pain in his head, and another for the pain to morph into aching numbness, slowly spreading throughout his body. His vision comes back, but he can only make out blurry images between dots dancing in his sight, cold sweat runs down his back and everything around him spins and gets darker and darker until the darkness finally consumes him.

When he wakes up dizziness hits him hard, and he quickly decides that being hit on the head with a hammer after a whole night of drinking would probably be a lot more pleasant than the steadily pounding pain tearing his head from the inside that he's feeling now. Blurry memories of almost being killed just after they had won a battle are rushing back into his head, not helping his situation at all.

Truth be told, he doesn't really understand exactly what had happened, details constantly escaping him, but he has enough of a terrible headache as it is, and he is certain that the last thing he needs right now is to think too much and make it worse – if it could get worse than that anyway.

Still, it bothers him; what could have happened before he lost consciousness. He remembers getting drunk and almost having his head roll by his feet, but somehow, at the very last moment the strike had missed its target. He must have fallen, he thinks, feeling kind of embarrassed. He never thought that drunken stumbling could save his ass, but he isn't complaining. If anything he's grateful.

Even if it's embarrassing, dying from such a flimsy assassination attempt would have been a lot worse – it would have surely given the next generations a good laugh. Briefly, he also wonders that just why he hadn't been poisoned, since he had already been drunk, putting some nice fatal poison into his drink would have been much easier, and less eye-catching. The attacker could have even escaped afterwards, walking out the door, completely unnoticed and unsuspected.

He frowns at that. While he – you could say that – likes his men, he also knows that they have the dependency level of a toddler, and sadly, the parenting role is his to play. Take the parent out of the picture and chaos ensures, but they could not have been in that much of a panic that they had let his almost-murderer run, could they? He shakes his head a little, wincing as another wave of pain washes over him.

No use getting all worked up without knowing what had actually happened.

Getting up is to be left for later; a tentative step of an unsuccessful attempt to stand up is all it takes for him to decide that, although Law has to admit that he wasn't trying all that much. He feels exhausted and lazy, and even reaching for the bottle of water on his nightstand seems like an impossibly hard task to do, but hard work always pays off, he thinks after the first divine sip.

He has already earned his peaceful rest before the assassination, and he is going to take it now, so he stays lying here, his arm over his eyes to block out the bright light – even with the time being before dawn, and the tent being dimly lit, it still seems painfully bright-, and dozes off.

He's quick to wake up upon hearing footsteps approaching the tent, and after yesterday's incident, he can't help being even more cautious than ever, because apparently, it hadn't been enough before. He lets out a small sigh of relief when Jean Bart enters the tent.

He is a servant of his, a former slave. Over the years they've grown to like each other, almost like friends, and though decorum demands formalities to be strictly followed in public, sometimes they leave them when it's just the two of them.

While saving Jean Bart had been a temporary falter of him when he first served in war and had taken pity to the enslaved, he can't say that he regrets it as he had gained a trustworthy, honorable follower.

''How are you feeling?''

''Like shit'' he answers honestly, sitting up. ''What happened anyway?''

The bulky man hesitates before he answers, thinking his words over, probably trying to sugarcoat things to not insult Law too much. He knows that Law wouldn't be keen on getting the evidence of his carelessness thrown into his face – like how easily he got himself drunk. ''At the very last moment, this slave boy pushed you out of the way. "He says finally.

''Who?'' Law asks, disbelieving. Without waiting for an answer, he continues ''What was a slave doing there anyway? I may not remember anything, but last time I checked we didn't mingle with slaves'' he says bluntly, before he realizes that he likely shouldn't be telling this to Jean Bart of all people. From the corner of his eye, he looks at Jean Bart to see if he's insulted, but his naturally grim face gives nothing away and Law doesn't know what to think of that. ''And what happened to the assassin?''

''The man was stopped by a soldier, but unfortunately, the wound he got was fatal. He died of blood loss before we could have investigated him. And as for the slave boy, apparently it was the kid that caused the ruckus – you know, the one that broke a soldier's hand, who you helped getting arrested afterwards –, he managed to knock out the assigned guards and escape his chains.'' he states matter-of-factly. ''As to how, I have no idea. I'm not the privy here, you should ask him''

His tone sounds cold at that, and maybe a pinch of hostility is there too, for understandable reasons. Law doesn't blame him for that, but there's still a ghost of hurt pride.

No one from a lower rank is allowed to talk with Law like that.

''Get me Shachi'' he commands, and the bulky man obeys, not missing a beat, most likely sensing the change in Law's tone.

After Jean Bart takes his leave and goes find Shachi, one look all it takes for him to force himself up to get himself cleaned. He's full of filth.

He uses the little leftover water and a washcloth to get rid of the dirt and dried up blood. He grimaces, knowing all too well that it could never compare to a real bath, but it's better than nothing. He uses cologne to cover up any possible odor, and he should manage with the slight sticky feeling on his skin for a few more days, even if that sounds like an eternity right now.

He's in the middle of putting his golden earrings into his ear, thinking about the kid he met few days ago, who had apparently saved his life, when he sees the reflection Sachi entering with Jean Bart behind him in the mirror.

''Shachi.'' he doesn't turn around immediately to greet his old friend, only after he got in the last piece of jewelry.

Red haired, of average height, all smiles and jokes – Shachi doesn't look like the type of guy who would be involved in slave trades, even though that is exactly what he does for a living. His friend looks like a child about to confess something that would surely lead to punishment – guilt is written on his face, and if that wasn't noticeable enough, then his body language screams it out.

''Hey…''

It's quiet after that, and Law just stares at Shachi unnervingly even by his own standards, maybe enjoying a little seeing him squirm in place. Shachi opens his mouth to speak, but before any words can come out, a sharp cry cuts through the air, followed by profuse swearing, colorful phrases along the lines of 'damn savages and their whore mothers' echo through the awkward silence, and Shachi ducks his head. This only makes Law more suspicious.

''Well?" he asks, fighting down the urge to impatiently tap his legs against the ground, while Jean just quietly observes their interaction.

''What's up?''

''That shit's for the birds and you know that as well as I do '' he says, glaring half-heartedly.

Shachi gulps before he answers, seemingly at a loss for where to start, or what to say. ''Remember the kid from two days ago?''

Nodding, he looks at the red haired man, carefully keeping a straight face. ''What of him?''

''I just thought.. He was your type, wasn't he? And, you can always kill him later if he wasn't, right? So I just… offered some money to the executioner, and he was with me but he just…disappeared and I didn't even know that he was missing until he turned up last night -''

Once again he's interrupted, by another cry that ends in a pained moan and turns into a fit of coughing. This time, Law strides across and peeks out of the tent, preparing to yell at whoever was causing trouble again.

His eyes widens at the sight of the very kid they were talking about. He's covered in bandages and looks just a little cleaner than he was the other day, the chains around his wrists clanking as he pulls at them, trying to break free despite the heavy fetters holding him down by his ankles. A malicious chuckle comes from the guard, who is clearly getting some sick entertainment from his struggling.

When the teen tugs too hard, and the only thing keeping him on the ground is the man on the other side of the chain, the man lets go of it, allowing him to fall into the mud. Even in this humiliating position, with drops of mire covering his face, he still manages to throw him a surprisingly threatening glare.

He looks like he is about to launch himself at his guffawing tormentor, but before things could deteriorate further, Law finds himself interfering.

''Enough.'' when he catches both parties' attention, he directs his glare at the guard. ''You're dismissed. Leave.'' The man is about to protest, but Law beats him to it ''Now.''

He watches the man scurrying off after a quick bow and 'your grace', before he looks back at the kid. He's back on his feet again, now all filthy, even dirtier than the first time he had seen him, the white bandages on his arm tainted with brown and red, probably from an opened wound.

He doesn't remember seeing a wound there when they first met, but that doesn't necessarily mean that it wasn't there* – he didn't look close enough to claim that -, but what matters is to get that treated.

''Shachi. Get him cleaned up, after that I'll treat him.'' he turns to Jean Bart after that. '' Bring some lukewarm water and tell Penguin to bring breakfast for two.''

The boy looks lost in his tent, looking around awkwardly, probably not really caring about his surroundings, but only to keep himself occupied and to soothe his anxiety. ''Sit.'' Law orders, though he didn't intend to, and the kid's face hardens for a second, before he swallows his pride and complies.

One look is all it takes for Law to decide that he isn't the only one in desperate need of a proper bath, and Law finds a little comfort in that thought, even if he's only talking about a peasant boy who has just kissed the ground moments ago.

He tells Shachi to help the kid with cleaning the area around the wound while he gets to work. He takes his bag, which carries a few medical instruments, that could always come in handy, and places the fresh bandages, gauze pads, scissors, the jar of honey and the jar of dried yarrow powder on the table.

While it isn't necessary, with him always putting his things away neatly -knowing that it would be a pain in the ass to clean it once it's dried-, he still rinses the mortar with water just to make sure it is as sterile as it can be.

He puts the dried yarrow into a mortar along with honey and pours water over it before starting to mash it with a pestle. After the green mass looks just right, just the perfect way of mushy, and he's done with making the poultice, he begins to put away his things, stopping to gauge if the amount of yarrow left is going to be enough to last until they reach the nearest neutral town - he doubts that they would be attended at any shop in the Southern regions, just after the annihilation of Bateriella.

He's just finished with putting his things away when Shachi tells him that he cleaned the area around the wound. He waves at his friend, signaling that he is free to go, and the red haired man leaves with a poorly disguised smile on his face.

Law washes his hands before he walks over, and inspects the wound, loosely fixing the rolled up sleeve of the torn shirt before it could slide down, reaching the wound and getting it dirty again. ''This is yarrow poultice, it speeds up the healing process and prevents further infections.'' he explains, more to break the uncomfortable silence than anything.

He takes some of the green mash on his forefinger and middle finger and smears it on the wound, even putting some on the skin around it. He takes a bigger gauze pad and positions it over the injured area before applying it to the wound, slightly pressing down to make it stick there. Even though Law is as gentle as possible (for him), the boy still winces a little, suppressing a pained hiss.

''What's your name, kid?'' Law asks. Dark eyes dart to Law's face instantly, something akin to worry reflecting in them. Law narrows his eyes, noticing the sudden change of behavior, however subtle it was. It's gone as soon as it came though, before Law could figure out what it meant, but it is definitely strange – overall, the kid has yet to show fear towards him, but the mention of his name made him squirm instantly.

''Luffy.'' Aloof, Law thinks, but he supposes that learning his full name wouldn't change anything; it would only matter if he was a noble, which clearly isn't the case. It might be for the better not to use the name that links him to his destroyed homeland anyway. ''And yours?''

''Trafalgar Law.'' he says without any title or formality, keeping it simple. He doesn't think it would make much difference to Luffy if he knew about his rank.

He wraps a bandage three times around the injured area before taking the scissors and cutting it to the right size, finishing it with a bow to keep it in place. He notices that there's some poultice left and as well as untended abrasions on the boy's knees.

''You should wash your knees too'' he notes, his pride not allowing him to kneel down and clean someone's leg. Treating it is tolerable but he won't bent down under any circumstances.

''You're helping me.'' Luffy states, and Law's about to give a cynic reply when he continues. ''But not the others. Why is that?''

''I'm not ungrateful. You saved my life yesterday; I owe you this much.''

Law's healer instinct screams bloody murder as he watches the slave clumsily wipe off the thick layer of filth, and Law has a hard time fighting down the urge to tear the cloth out of his hands and do it himself before he causes even more damage.

His head suddenly shoots up to look at him. '' It was you-ouch!'' he hisses, having accidentally pressed the cloth down too hard. The crust comes off, and Law rolls his eyes, his instinct winning over his pride to save the idiot from himself.

He moves to crouch in front of Luffy, and frowns at the sight of a beginning festering.

Guess I'll have to keep my eyes on it, eh?

''You didn't know it was me?'' he asks again, looking up at Luffy. The boy shakes his head.

''I don't think I would have saved you if I did.'' he admits, his thoughts probably somewhere else because Law can tell the exact moment the boy realizes what he has just said out loud, but he doesn't apologize or makes excuses, just stares at him almost challengingly, daring Law to comment on it.

Law just smirks, not being one to take things personally. He has the galls and Law likes that. ''How'd you even spring up there?''

''I was escaping'' he says, biting his bottom lip to hide his cheeky smile. He's clearly provoking me now, Law thinks, but he isn't sure if it's intentional or not. He decides to ignore it though, focusing his attention on the wounds he's tending to at the moment.

Without Law keeping the conversation flowing, mildly awkward silence drapes over them. Law stands up when he's done, just in time as Penguin comes in, carrying a gigantic tray. He puts it down on the table, Law nods his thanks, and he leaves with regard to Law's guest.

He turns to Luffy again to invite him to join, but finds him already focusing his attention on the food. His dark eyes flicker to plates, the movement of his Adam's apple indicates a gulp and he takes a not-so-discrete sniff. Law finds it amusing, in some way.

''Dig in.'' he says, earning a shocked, wide-eyed look. ''Aren't you hungry?'' he asks after a few moments, and that seems to do the trick because Luffy immediately jumps at the food.

Of course Law has been aware that Luffy was hungry – slaves admittedly don't get too much food – but he never would have thought that he'd eat the proportion of two people in one sitting, plus the bread from Law's meal. He's glad that Penguin has a tendency to bring more food than he asks for; otherwise it wouldn't have been enough. It would have been shameful if he couldn't feed a guest properly.

Law notices that while munching on the last remains of the bread, Luffy absently stares at the entrance.

''You're free to go'' he says, though he isn't keen on the idea. He wants the boy for himself, and wants him to go with him on his own, not by force. He's feisty too; keeping Luffy like that would mean constantly fearing escape attempts unless Law breaks his will, and that isn't something he wants. He's way more interesting to be around the way he is.

''I'm free?''

''You are a free man'' he agrees.

''So I can leave for good?''

''You're free to go'' he repeats, and adds ''If you have somewhere to go, that is.''

Luffy narrows his eyes at him, and he takes that as a clue to continue. ''You could come with me to Flevance.''

''To Flevinc?''

''Flevance'' Law corrects, but nods anyway. ''As a sign of my gratitude, you'd be given citizenry and a chance to restart your life.''

'' No, I-''

''Think about it'' Law cuts in ''Tabula rasa. You don't have much left there, do you?''

Luffy shakes his head, features hardening for a moment, before he relaxes. ''I'll think about it.''

''We're setting out for North tomorrow morning, after dawn, with or without you, the decision is yours to make.''

Tomorrow morning comes fast with nice, sunny weather that puts the Northern summers to shame. He can barely believe that Novembers are like this in Bateriella; his homeland, Flevance must already be covered in snow this time of the year - it's called the White City for a reason.

There's no trace of Luffy yet, and Law grows nervous, but he hasn't given up on hope just yet. His anxiety mixes with mild frustration, not knowing why the kid has such a big effect on him. He shouldn't even care whether he lives or die, let alone be concerned for his future, like what could happen to him if he starts off to the big world completely alone.

He could probably take care of himself as far as it comes to self-defense, given how easily he has broken through the guards when being hold back by shackles, but from what Law had seen, the first more serious wound on him would be infected and eventually lead to death.

The last box of supplies is put into a covered wagon, and Law sighs, feeling a little down and maybe a little bit disappointed – but what for, he doesn't understand. Luffy has not made any promises and Law shouldn't even be surprised that he refused to live on a land whose soldiers have destroyed his homeland.

He gives the order to get on the horses or get into the carriages for nobles, and his breath gets struck in his throat as he turns around and sees Luffy alongside Shachi. The boy clearly looks like he's searching for something or someone, and Law would like to think that he is that certain someone.

He hurries over there, and Shachi exclaims with a smile. ''There are you!''

He absently nods as a greeting, his eyes trained on the beaming Luffy, giving him an open glance-over. He's wearing chausses tucked into turnshoes, a simple outfit but it hides his bruises and bandages effectively.

His hair is free of grease and dirt now, looking soft and inviting to run his fingers through it, his skin turns out to be shades lighter without all the filth, but it is still a lot tanner than any Northerner's complexion. It's nothing Law's used to, but he can't say he doesn't like it.

Law finds him more and more attractive with every passing moment. ''Your answer is?''

Law is sure it is impossible to grin even wider than he is already, but Luffy proves him wrong. ''I'll go with you.''

Half a day later Law has already regretted not only inviting Luffy to sit with him or coming to Bateriella, but also all of his life choices that led him to this point. The teen proves to be terribly irritating company, after the initial joy of Luffy coming to Bateriella has worn out. First he has been eager to talk to him, and get to know him and such, but it has quickly turned into mild annoyance after experiencing a bit of his personality.

Asking Luffy to be silent has turned out to be a bad idea, because the kid just seems to be unable to stay silent - if by any chance he stops babbling, then he will just make some obnoxious noise like tapping his foot or humming songs that don't make any sense, and Law would rather have him spurting his nonsense than listening to his false tones.

He wouldn't even have a problem with Luffy talking to him, if the kid would be capable of talking about sensible topics and not just telling him dumb, vulgar jokes.

Come to think of it, it may be for the best for him to be so oblivious to the world; Law has been around cunning politicians enough to prefer Luffy's ignorance over them. He's naïve and innocent and simple – everything that he normally treats as inferior – but it just gives him a childish charm that can even bring a smile to Law's perpetually frown-pulled lips, beyond any feeling of irritation.

Not having to keep his guard up all the time and relax feels nice for a change, and that thought makes bearing with the eccentric teen much easier, even as he's singing a song, about compass point and idiots, that should be sung by children.

Luffy is really a child at soul, Law thinks, attempting to give a rational explanation – that isn't 'because he's a fucking idiot' - to why on earth would someone older than 10 voluntarily jump into a puddle. His chausses rolled up to his knees, his legs ankle-deep in mud and Luffy is oblivious as ever, merrily humming a song different from the one he used to hum all day.

Law is actually tempted to ask him to sing it out aloud, because it sounds familiar, but he can't grasp where he had heard it. He's way too irritated for that though, as not only they are held back by the goddamned mud and are progressing slower than they would on feet, but the brat is actually enjoying it.

His eyes flicker to the discarded pair of shoes, and Law mumbles, mostly to himself. ''Tell me, why would you do that again?''

''What're you mumbling about, Torao? '' Luffy asks, tilting his head while Law's right eye twitches at his new nickname. The first time he has heard it he has almost fallen out of the carriage. He knows he shouldn't be that surprised, his name is admittedly hard to get right without it being spelled out first and he can't really expect anything else from a most likely illiterate peasant boy, but he still finds it degrading.

''Nothing'' he replies, looking up at the sky. It's clear; there isn't a trace of clouds, contrarily to the driving rain the previous day. Weather seems to change fast here, it must be really irritating.

''What? You're talking to yourself? You're weird!'' Luffy says, snapping Law out of his thoughts. He immediately feels irritation bubbling inside him again.

''You shouldn't be one to talk while standing in the middle of mud'' he snorts.

''It's just dirt, it won't eat you or anything, geez'' Luffy huffs, and then continues. ''Besides, I needed to stretch; that thing is awfully uncomfortable!" he complains.

Law actually feels insulted, 'that thing' is the most comfortable carriage in whole Flevance, albeit it wasn't made for long journals. Still, it is the best and Luffy can't just disregard it like that.

Maybe the comment on the carriage has something to do with the fact that Law doesn't immediately let Luffy in after the teen gets bored with imitating a pig.

''You aren't coming in here with your legs like that'' he says, horrified at the thought of the filthy appendages touching the seats. He ignores the pout and the puppy eyes and makes Luffy sit at the door, with his legs hanging out of the carriage, exposed to the air. '' You can sit after the mud dries and you can rub it off.''

Luffy spent the whole day with attitudinizing sulking after that – until dinner comes, of course, as Law manages to solve everything with a chunk of meat. He really likes Luffy's simple-mindedness at times like these, but it confuses him is why he cares so much.

Law's aware that he was presumably expected to make an appearance in Mariejois – the capital- and that sending a herald with the report would most likely piss of the government dogs, but even if he ignores the fact that he truly doesn't give a fuck about them, he still honestly lacks the patience to deal with them at the moment.

He's got enough trouble on him which he brought upon himself like the ignorant fool he was when he invited Luffy to join him.

''It's cold. Why is it so cold? I'm freeeeeezing. Are you cold too, Torao?'' Luffy asks, hugging himself.

Law grumbles a 'no' under his breath, his eyebrow twitches along with his fingers, his muscles itching to break the brat's neck. He's been dealing with this for the whole day, ever since they reached the base of the mountain, but fortunately, Luffy has taken a 3 hours nap and Law has treasured every moment of it. Sadly he's wide awake now and Law actually wonders exactly why he doesn't just murder him then and there; who would judge him? Who would care if the boy went missing?

'' You must be cold! How do these people live here?! And when are we going to arrive? ''

Law looks up at the carriage's ceiling, takes a deep breath and counts to three mentally. And after that to ten as the three wasn't near enough to calm him down. Their destination is ten times colder than this, and Law is really tempted to rub it in the kid's face, but he knows that it will only bring forth more complains and annoying whines. Now, Law deems himself a patient man but his patience has limits too.

''Are we there yet?''

''No.''

''And now? Are we there?''

He sends one of his most murderous glares at the direction of the teen, but the kid either doesn't notice or doesn't give a flying fuck about it. Law isn't sure which one of these options is more annoying.

''You'll know when we got there.'' he manages to grit out.

''So we're there now?''

''No.'' Law hisses, restraining himself from shutting the kid up for so long causes him physical pain. How fucking annoying can someone be!?

Law thanks the God for the silence after that, which lasts for approximately two minutes.

''I'm boreeeeed.'' Luffy whines again, falling backwards against his seat, and Law groans. '' And I'm still cooooold~''

''God fucking damn it!'' Law swears as he stands up abruptly. ''Get your ass over here! ''

Perplexed, Luffy blinks at him and sits up as he was told, not fazed by the possibility that Law literally wants to kick him out of the moving carriage. Law shrugs his warm fur coat down and roughly shoves it on him.

''And if you don't shut the fuck up now, I swear to whatever god you believe in, that I'll strip you, tie you up and have you dragged behind the fucking carriage. Got it?''

''Yeah…'' Luffy mutters back, and Law would be damned if he hasn't just caught a glimpse of a cheeky grin on his face.

Once again silence settles over them, only the slight creaking of the wheels and the tramping of the horses are heard. He barely manages to fight down a smug smirk; it seems like his threat wasn't in vain.

''Ne, Torao…''

Damn him and his big mouth.

''What is it?!'' he asks, maybe more irritated than he should be.

''Won't you be cold without it?'' Luffy asks quietly, sounding uncharacteristically uncertain about something– such a short amount of time was enough for Law to learn that Luffy is the kind of person who is the most confident and the loudest, but also the dumbest, babbling anything that comes to his mind without the slightest thinking.

''I grew up in lands a lot colder than this, trust me, I'll be fine.'' He can't say the same about Luffy, though. He's wearing two coats to be comfortable while Law isn't wearing any, and they still have a long way to go until they reach Flevance, and it's only going to get colder from now on. Not to mention that they're inching towards winter – Northern winters are hard to bear even for those who were born there.

''Okay….''

Law presses his back into the cushions, throws his head back and closes his eyes. His relaxed posture allows his fatigue to weigh down on him, his muscles are sore, his eyes sting. He'll just rest them for a few minutes. That's all. Just a few minutes.

''Torao''

He doesn't find it in himself to be mad anymore. He's just too tired. Luffy can spit his stupid nonsense and he doesn't care. ''Hmm…?''

''Thanks…''

His head jerks up at that, his amber eyes open instantly. An unknown feeling spreads through his chest as he stares at Luffy, who sits with his knees pressed against his chest, Law's coat draped over his curled up form like a blanket.

He looks different like this, tiny and vulnerable; and the sudden wave of protectiveness catches Law off guard. While he knows that the teen is just deceiving him – he's seen that he's perfectly capable of taking care of himself- , maybe deliberately, maybe not, he finds himself involuntarily pulled in by his charms. He just nods, his lips curling into a small, gentle smile.

With Luffy snoring the day away next to him, travelling feels – Law dares to say - boring. He just stares out of the window, chin leaning on his palm, watching the rough but familiar scenery of the mountains surrounding Flevance. Snowflakes feather down from the gray sky; something he finds strange to be absent – usually, this area is already covered in thick snow by the end of October.

Although he'd often curse away that white visitation of god when he gets caught in a storm, but it feels warm and welcoming after being away for two months. It feels like home. It is home, he reminds himself, suddenly feeling a wave of ridiculous anticipation.

He looks back to the unconscious Luffy then, who is sleeping under a warm blanket with his legs brought up to his chest, wondering if he should wake him up; the teen has, after all, been immensely excited at the prospect of snow. As absurd as it sounds, apparently he had never seen snow before.

He reaches out to brush a stray hair out of his face and wake him up gently, but he doesn't budge. He remembers that Luffy isn't a light sleeper like himself; you could demolish the roof from right above him and even that wouldn't wake him up.

Law caresses Luffy's cheek, and Luffy lets out a noise of discomfort at the intrusion of his personaö space, furrowing his browns. ''Cold'' he mumbles, fidgeting to find a more comfortable position for sleeping.

Not going to happen, Law thinks, pressing his apparently cold fingers to Luffy's neck. The teen jumps at that, almost falling down from the seat, and Law grins.

''What'z…'' Luffy yawns, looking around in slight confusion until he spots Law ''… you're a meanie..'' he says incoherently, voice heavy with sleep, rubbing his eyes lazily.

'' We're almost in Flevance .''

Luffy's eyes widen, as he darts to the window, tripping two times; first when the blanket tangles around his legs, then again on Law's legs. He nearly tears down the curtains in his frantic rush, and he presses his face flush against the window, gasping at the sight of snow. ''It looks so fluffy! Like a cloud!'' he exclaims, visibly mesmerized by the pure white snow that covers the surrounding trees.

Law blinks as Luffy fiddles with the door, and grabs Luffy's waist just in time before he could jump out of the carriage. ''What the hell do you think you are doing?''

''Torao! Let me go! I want to touch it! " he complains, struggling to get out of Law's strong hold.

''You can touch it as much as you want later'' he promises, and the pout forming on Luffy's lips tells Law that while he isn't keen on waiting, he'll listen for once. He guides the teen back to their seat with his hand on the small of Luffy's back. '' Besides, I can guarantee that you'll see plenty of it - enough to bore you, even.'' he adds once they're seated, his hands still on his back, almost pulling him into a one armed hug.

Luffy leans into him further, resting his head on Law's shoulder, who in return curls his arm around his waist. It's really, really nice to watch the snowing like that, even Law admits that, and knowing that he won't get any peace once the ride is over – he has no doubts that his boy would discover the many ways one could use snow for when it comes to get on people's nerve – he's determined to make the most of it and just bask in Luffy's wondrously calming presence.

The first thing Luffy does when the carriage arrives at the castle isn't looking around, no, it's jumping in the snow. Law just fondly shakes his head, way too smitten with the teen's antics to care or be really surprised. Luffy thinks the snow is really cool – Law grimaces at his although unintentional but still terrible pun -, and fluffy but too cold.

He doesn't really get what Luffy could have possibly expected, if it was warm or something, but he just shrugs it off, not mulling over on that for long. Thinking about Luffy does him no good, it would only bring him a headache – and he speaks from experience here.

He drags Luffy inside with the promise of a feast, he guesses he can be considered lucky that food can hold Luffy's attention – in fact, he has the feeling that food is the only thing that can make Luffy sit and stay in one place, as much as it is possible with him – otherwise the boy would have been probably tormenting him with snow right now.

He has to admit that maybe Luffy has a point with the food this time; although his noble heritage has granted him food of higher quality than common soldiers back when he still has been living on the flavorless camp-food, and a decent meal sounds like a gift straight from the heavens right now.

He takes a moment to admire the carefully prepared meat on his plate, before he cuts it up and begins eating. He spares a glance at Luffy, wondering how he would react to the Northern gastronomy, with it being completely different in taste than the one he's used to.

He's quick to realize that he shouldn't be worried for Luffy when it comes to food. The teen has his face stuffed with everything within his reach, an expression of absolute delight on his face and expressions of shock on those present faces.

He has probably never gotten anything like this before, Law wonders, vowing to himself that he will be the one to spoil Luffy with the best goods available in Flevance, but he isn't about to let him know that. He looks on, disgusted and with a hint of horror as the teen stuffs a whole leg of turkey into his mouth, completely sure that he'll have to be the one to save him from choking, but he just pulls the bone out thoroughly cleaned.

''Don't be such a pig.'' Law quips after he regains his voice and lets out a barely audible sigh of relief, deciding that Luffy will start his table-manner lessons as soon as he finds a teacher, for the sake of his own good. Luffy just stares at him like he hasn't even heard his comment, obviously confused at what Law is referring to. '' The food won't go anywhere, you can slow down.''

''Okay'' Luffy replies, and goes right back to wolfing down the food like his life depended on it. Law just groans and resumes eating. What has he gotten himself into?

A bath is needed, just for the sake of his human dignity, Law decides for the umpteenth time that day, and it's needed now, not by the time the servants would fill the tub – it would take hours to do so. Luffy doesn't agree with him, but it won't stop him. He's leading the teen towards a private hotspring, just next to the castle, but Luffy doesn't know that, and Law isn't about to tell him.

The little knowledge that he gained of Luffy includes that Luffy hates baths, and while it might not be the best idea to force him into a bath on the first day, the boy he reeks, no, they both reek and are itchy from the dirt that won't come off without a proper and thoroughly cleaning. If the odor already bothers him, with smelling the same as Luffy, were Law the only one to take a bath, things would get awkward pretty soon.

Law has been told that he has an obsession with cleanliness, bathing multiple times a week, but it's still better than the other way around.

Luffy is weird, he had easily come to that conclusion, but in this aspect it's remarkable. He's aware that in other countries commoners rarely have the privilege to take baths, but its rarity should just make it all the more appalling, in the same way as it is with gems.

There, in the North if people aren't freezing to death, then that is counted as a success, but while people aren't granted the luxury to be very hot and to perspire, they still have countless hot springs and even the lowest of the low has the chance to bath. It's a requirement to smell good, or at least to not smell at all.

In Bateriella the weather is humid and hot, even in late November, and it's inevitable for people to sweat a lot but clean water is expensive - which is a crime itself, if you ask Law, to make something so essential to survive scarcely affordable-, and the rivers are barely going to make someone cleaner.

The point is, getting the chance to have a nice, warm bath in the freezing cold should count as good, even in the warped mind of Luffy.

As it turns out, apparently Luffy doesn't think that he should bath at all. He has been fascinated with the idea of a "half-indoor lake with hot water", but he has only wanted to admire it from afar, without it involving him getting wet or basically any kind of contact with the water.

He seriously doesn't get what's the matter with Luffy and his blatant dislike towards water, but the look in his dark eyes has showed an unnatural wariness and that has stopped Law from asking. He has considered letting the boy slip, but then he has caught a whiff and well, he's made up his mind.

Now he only has to carry out his plan, and that's easier said than done.

''I don't wanna go there!'' Luffy stomps, pointing at the direction of the steaming water.

''But you will'' Law replies, slowly losing his patience. His last resort is to tear off the teen's clothes and push him in there, but he would rather refrain from doing so. It presumably wouldn't leave a nice impression of him.

''I won't!''

''Well, you won't sleep in any of the beds while being so filthy either''

After a childish back and forth of an argument, at last Luffy caved in to Law. He should mark this day on the calendar or something, Law thinks, seeing that this is the first time that he has actually won an argument against Luffy. Their banters usually end with a compromise or with Luffy getting his way.

They both get rid of their clothes, neither of them self-conscious or shy about their bodies. He feels Luffy's eyes on him, and it's most likely because of the ink on his upper body and arms. Tattoos mostly practiced in the Eastern regions and are really unusual to come across at the rest of the continent.

He has yet to meet a fellow tattooed man here – though he hides his too, not because he regretted them, but because they attract too much attention. He doesn't particularly like being stared at.

He doesn't mind getting attention from Luffy, though.

Law wonders if he should wait for Luffy to go ahead, fearing that he might flee once Law's in the water. He shrugs it off in the end and walks into the water, letting out a content sigh as the warm liquid engulfs his body the deeper he goes. It's nice and relaxing, and he can't help closing his eyes and leaning against a rock. He still listens to Luffy though, if he's coming or not.

After a while of silence, he cracks one eye open and finds his boy sitting in the shallow part of the water, the water barely reaching his waist. He's pouting and absently kicking the water, looking absolutely adorable and eatable.

''Why aren't you coming in?'' Law asks, walking back.

Luffy puffs his cheeks. ''I can't swim''

''And you think I'd let you drown here?'' he retorts when he's in front of Luffy, leaning down and sporting a flirty smirk. ''Besides, the water will only reach your shoulders, and you can hold onto the side.'' he adds, taking Luffy's hand.

''If you say so…''

He ends up taking Luffy to the out-door part of the hotspring, the combination of the hot water and feathering snow successfully sweeping him off his feet, and Law likes to think that his hand circled around his small waist had a part in it.

Law is really happy to spend the night in a warm, comfortable bed, finally clean and free of dirt, even though he has to endure Luffy's bitching about "wasting too much time on bathing and not showing him 'Flevinc' ". He has intended to do so, he really has, but the feathering snow has grown into a raging storm by the time he could have dragged Luffy with him to the city.

He is in good mood so he lets the small fact slip that Luffy has been the one who has spent the most time playing around - once he has grown used to the water-, as he discovered that hair can be frozen if it's wet and exposed to low temperatures. He may have felt a little ridiculous as Luffy has wetted his hair and tousled it, but Law thinks it was worth it in the end, even if he kind of felt like an idiot.

It doesn't really matter with Luffy anyway, and it isn't like anyone else has seen him.

It might have been for the best for the time being not to let Luffy near the snow, until his initial eagerness dies down at least– Shachi and Penguin told Luffy about snowballs and other possibilities to torture innocent, unsuspecting people- and the boy was more than eager to try it.

Law would probably be one of those unfortunate victims.

Not that having an over-excited teen jumping at you while you're sleeping doesn't count as tormenting, but still. He won't even get into how he even sneaked around the guards – Luffy isn't exactly stealthy, and Law thinks that it's worth to be repeated.

Luffy is not stealthy. He's the impossibly clumsy kid that would trip over his own feet and drag three more men twice his own size with him, all that in a volume that could probably reawaken the dead – the point of this, that he is unable to be silent, and the last time Law checked his guards are neither deaf nor stupid, so they should have stopped him as nobody is allowed to enter his chambers without his permission.

He has thought that being back to in the world of politics and the dull daily routines would be more appealing than the battlefield, as it always has been – though he has never been away for such a long time. Up until now, the longest period of time he has spent in war has been two weeks, including the travelling, and he has never had any problem with falling back into his old routine.

Two months though, is a long period of time, and while he has had plenty of time to rest since the siege of Bateriella has ended, in his opinion travelling and doing nothing useful is more draining than any physical activity.

He blinks slowly, blurrily seeing Luffy's pouting face. It's a nice view to start the day with, he thinks, momentarily forgetting the unpleasant method Luffy uses to wake him up, until his sore ribs remind him. He's too tired to even wince at the feeling.

''C'mon, you're no fun! Don't be lazy!''

Law yawns, his eyes tearing up from it. ''Why are you here?'' he asks, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of the sleep circling his mind. He hears Luffy voice, but doesn't understand what he is saying.

''Oi! Wake up! You promised!'' Luffy yells, irritation evident in his tone.

Law forces his lids open again, his mind too foggy to get what the brat wants so early in the morning. ''What'd I promise?'' he asks, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms.

The weight from his torso disappears as Luffy climbs off of him, presumably to jump on Law once again. ''That you'll show me Flevinc!'' Luffy says, adding more weight to his words with a dramatic stomp.

''Flevance'' he corrects automatically for the umpteenth time, and Luffy just waves at him as always, indicating that it doesn't matter.

''And yeah, I promised and I will, but I got some work to do before I do that'' he says, and Luffy frowns. ''Why don't you explore the mansion while I'm at it?'' Law appeases when Luffy's expression remains in a frown instead of a resigned pout. ''There's a nice tavern named Baratie, I'll take you there – they have some of the best food in here. What do you say?''

''Alright!'' Luffy cries, visibly brightening. He jumps off the bed, muttering to himself, already drooling at the prospect of food.

He's so disgusting, Law thinks with ridiculous fondness, and lets out a relieved sigh as it has been his last resort – he doesn't know what he would have done if bribing with food hadn't worked. He also wonders why the hell he is so keen on granting the brat everything that comes out of his mouth.

He obviously likes Luffy, he wouldn't even have taken him here in the first place if he hadn't, but even how far people go while courting should have its limits.

They have a lazy breakfast together – on Law's part at least; he eats slowly like civilized people do, and Luffy, unlike him, wolfs the food down at a pace that was more like exercising than eating; were it any normal person, a nap would be required after each a meal.

The reports of Flavance's happenings seem more boring than usual with Luffy and their upcoming date on his mind, after every 5 minutes or so he finds himself staring out of the window, looking at the snow kind of dreamily, wishing that he would be out there. He wouldn't even mind whatever that hell spawn plans on doing to him, however embarrassing it may be.