Good night people, here I am with a new story for you all, I wrote it for the One Piece Big Bang event on Tumblr where I work with my partner Elyon who had made amazing art for the story that I recommend you all too go see (go see it or I will punch you!).
Also I would want to thank Piopiomeme, my lovely beta who had stand all my crazy ideas from the beginning and my crisis while I wrote, darling I love you with all my hearth. A lot of kisses for you n3n.
The story is not very long since it was for the event and I hope you all like it, as always the characters are not mine, they are from Echiro Oda, but the rest of the story is mine, so if I see it published somewhere without my contentment I will decapitate you.
Law had lost everything.
In less than a day, all he had ever known in his life and everything he had ever loved and cheered had disappeared into complete dark nothingness. In a few and insignificant hours, his life had taken a turn in the most painful and horrible direction, and he had just been allowed to watch it crumble, not being able to do anything.
The young man of barely twenty-six years old and exotic silver eyes had simply not been prepared for what had come over him.
Yesterday, Trafalgar Law was an intelligent young man with a bright and happy life blessed with everything anyone could want: a family, some friends, a home to return to, and a job to be proud of. The dark haired man had his whole life in front of him, thousands of possibilities and options opened for him, so he could become the man he dreamed to be.
Yesterday, when he went down to the crowded kitchen of the castle searching for breakfast, his mother gave him a kiss on the forehead and his beloved little sister, whom he adored above everything in the world, had greeted him with sleep-ridden eyes. Yesterday his father, the head of the clan, had laughed with him while discussing the lack of wheat in the village. He had trained with his friends in the small snowy courtyard of the castle with his family and his clan encouraging him like every day.
Yesterday he had been happy. He had had a home.
Today, however, he was nobody. He has absolutely nothing. Now, no one would miss him and mourn his loss if he died in the bloodiest battle in the worst way. His sister wouldn't pick white flowers to decorate his grave, his mother would not, between tears, knit ceremonial black and silver clothes for him to wear in the other world with the colours of his clan, nor would his father spend sleepless nights drinking the purest whiskey, remembering his firstborn. Now, there would be no funeral, now, there wouldn't be days of mourning, not even someone to remember him.
He had now lost everything.
And therefore he had no reason to keep fighting, nothing left for him to keep trying to survive one more day in the now empty world. Even his survival instinct -the one which had saved him from so many problems when he was a boy without a brain- could beat his shattered mind and make him move forward.
When Law stumbled on another thick black root hidden by the snow and fell with his face hitting the soft white mantle, he didn't even react at all at the hard blow. His mind processed the fall, but he just kept still panting, as the blood from the fatal wound in his side from the battle, began to stain the iced water around him in a deep bright scarlet.
Law stopped trying to go ahead and run away from his death. Law refused to get up and go on with the charade.
What for? Everyone of his beloved family and friends had perished. His parents, his sister, his entire clan, the whole village… From the small blackened wooden houses to the imposing castle of thick gray stone, all had been destroyed by the powerful flames of fire and the swords of their enemies.
Enemies that now laughed behind him and keep getting closer to the injured boy with the hunting wolves chasing his bloody trail. They were trying to kill the last survivor, the last member of the powerful clan so there won't be any witness of the betrayal.
Law held his breath at the gates of death as his mind remembered what happened.
It had been a slaughter.
In less than three hours, the village, sunk between high and sharp mountains covered with ancient snow and ice, had disappeared on a trail of ashes and blood. The enemy had attacked them by surprise, when it had been dark and people had been sleeping quiet and with their guard down. They had been wiped out mercilessly from the world. Children and women had been unable to do anything to defend themselves against the mighty warriors, his whole clan had perished as a white breath quickly vanishing in the cold air.
The massive castle of his ancestors -the one his father had told him so many stories about his old family, the one that was the pride of the Trafalgar clan with the high towers touching the sky and large windows decorated with intricate knots that illuminating the entire field of snow- had been reduced to the blackened ruins of a cemetery and to the forgotten memories of the world.
Law knew he won't be able to look at that beautiful piece of his life now turned into a pathetic ruin again. The place was now buried under the snow of the cold North, quiet after the killing, the blood and the screams. What he had loved and adored will now become his cruelest nightmare.
So why get up? Why hide and try to recover from his injuries? Why try to find a warm place to warm up his chilled bones?.
The tanned boy knew it was impossible to even survive the approaching winter alone. Even in summer, the cold northern sun wasn't able to melt the thick layer of snow that covered that part of the world. The winter was eternal in this country, the snow had always covered the ground and the wind had always blown from the east side, freezing his cheeks. Summers were hard. Winters were the bane of every man. Law knew he wouldn't survive more than a few weeks in that harsh environment, injured, and without any help.
It was better to die now and leave his body to freeze within that breathtaking landscape of high, steep mountains, and thick black trees of twisted branches. Better now than during the real winter, when it becomes impossible for any man to set foot outside their houses without freezing to death in the attempt. Now, the breeze was nice and the snow fell gently against his body in a subtle caress, whereas in winter the air would cut his lips and the snow would feel like darts against his skin.
Now the world seemed to say a gently goodbye to him as the last member of his old clan.
To die in the edge of the dark big forest in the autumn would be a comfortable death. To lie forever in a place full of magic and legends, where only a few dared to enter, and where his body would remain intact for years thanks to the cold, sounded even pleasant. If he was lucky, his pursuers wouldn't find him and he would remain uncorrupted for centuries in that place surrounded by the most pure silence and the few trees that heralded the beginning of that magical forest.
Law coughed spitting blood, and felt the cold flood him as the heat was drained from his body.
It was ironic. Law had always been an arrogant and proud person, had always been able to defend his honor and that of his people from the enemies that had tried to subdue them. No one had ever raised against him or his family without facing punishment and the consequences of such a stupid act. Law had always boasted of his strength and courage, and yet, while lying in the snow and being the only survivor from a proud clan of warriors, he couldn't even stand up and strike back at the enemy who had harmed him the most.
He won't even live more than two hours with the gaping wound and won't be able to take revenge or at least spit in the face of his enemies. Moreover, if he decided to take revenge now, it would be one of the dumbest thing he did in his life.
If he decided to stand up and fight those bastards, he would be just one person against a whole clan, he would be a man without a soul and with nothing to keep fighting form against man trying to end their perfect job. He, a wounded poor crazy child, absurdly fighting against healthy and strong men. He would die humiliated, and even worse as those men will surely make fun of him, would take advantage of him in his painful state and will tortured and rape him before ending his life.
'This was the north', his father had told him as a child, 'where the weather was so cruel and hard like the man who lived there'.
Lying in the snow with wet feet in the worn out leather boots that were unable to protect him from the cold, and with his heavy coat of fox fur slowly turning frozen from the blood that was flowing from his wound, Law wanted to scream in frustration. He chewed the inside of his mouth trying to hold back tears of frustration and helplessness that keep threatening to spill from his silver eyes. He wasn't allowed to mourn the loss, he was strong and proud, the successor of a whole clan of hundred generations. Had no right to mourn after what they had done to his people, not after being totally unable to avenge them.
It had been so unfair, they had done nothing, his parents and his clan had never entered into any political conflicts, and they had always remained neutral outside the struggles for power between the different clans in the country. They were always content with their lonely territory and scarce resources, without worrying about anything else. His clan was known for being the most peaceful and neutral throughout the whole north, they were known by their huge knowledge rather than power.
And yet they had finished with them all.
Law couldn't help but blame himself at the thought. He was the eldest son of the family, one day he should have become the headmaster of the clan, had been trained to deal with situations like this one, to defend and protect his people. He should have seen it coming, he should have warned the men of the armory, should have refused his mother's complaints and have joined the battle like all clan leader should do. Like his father had done. Like all his ancestors had done before him.
Law hated himself for not having done his duty.
So he didn't try to get up when the barking of the hunting wolves began to dangerously approach their wounded prey, he didn't even groaned in pain as the huge bleeding wound on his body began to freeze painfully. He simply did nothing and waited for death to take him without resistance.
He couldn't survive in this arid climate, he will die by blood loss or by freezing if the wolves didn't reached him before. There weren't any second chances, there was no emergency plan. Law knew with the same certainty that tomorrow the sun will rise, that if he fell asleep he would die.
But he didn't care. Because dying now meant that he will flee from this world that was now empty and meaningless. Death meant that he will reunite with his family in the afterlife and forget the horrible massacre. He will forget the head of his mother beheaded by the sword of a soldier, still seeming to yell at him to run and save his sister. He will forget the image of his father with a spear stuck in his belly, piercing him from side to side in a lethal wound. Dying would mean to forget the bruised and naked body of his little sister, after the soldiers had used her in the worst way possible.
Dying would mean to disappear into perfect and absolute nothingness. Removing the tragedy. Going back home.
So when his vision began to blur in the silent forest around him, when his eyes began to close and loss focus, Law didn't attempt to resist his cruel destiny.
.
.
.
The first thing that managed to penetrate the dense dark mantle that covered Law's mind was the heat. It was hot, very hot, and hotter than everything he had ever known during his life in the cold north. Law was suffocating in that torrid atmosphere, under layers of what appeared to be thick and heavy pelts and wool blankets, which made him sink into a fluffy and soft bed.
The second thing that Law could feel through the numbness that filled him was the familiar scent of wood being burned in a fireplace between crackling whispers, and the unmistakable smell of freshly cooked food boiling in a pot. The aroma of crusty bread, pumpkin soup and deer roasted in butter and herbs, pleasantly wrapped around him making the oppressive heat fall into a second place while his empty stomach growled hungrily.
Then, while his mind continued clearing from the depths of sleep, the sound of laughter and talking people reached his ears, followed by the noise of children playing between excited shouts, and the indistinguishable sound of women gossiping around the warm fire. Placid, calm, unconcerned. It seemed like a normal afternoon in the old castle where Law had grown up laughing between friends, and the warmth of his mother and his father's reproaches.
Stunned by the friendly atmosphere where he suddenly was, Law's eyes opened to the cruel world that still wouldn't let him go.
The room that awaited him was unlike any other he had ever seen. The place wasn't carved into stone like the rooms of his own castle, where the walls were made from robust gray granite in order to withstand the cold and battles. It wasn't even built with large, old trunks that the people from the village used to create their resistant huts. No, this small and simple room seemed to be carved deep into the brown earth of the world itself, sculpted directly on the rock as a piece of art stolen from the hearth of the earth. It was like a little refuge of low ceilings and warm colours that spoke about magic and strange cultures.
Rugs made of soft wool with intricate patterns of knots and strange heraldics, covered the plank flooring of bright polished wood, in an exotic beautiful spectacle of designs and textures. From a small window carved into the wall in front of the bed, the cold and dark northern light, passed through lace embroidered curtains that were, together with a fireplace and a few candles, the only source of illumination inside the room.
Thousands of tapestries with pictures of bears and wolves playing and running in different positions decorated the brown walls, next to shelves loaded with books and foreign objects that Law couldn't even recognize. There were several vases with delicate violet and white little flowers, and even dried herbs and medicinal roots hanged from the ceiling creating a mysterious and relaxing atmosphere full of scents and a natural warm feeling.
Even the rustic bed by a wall where Law was sleeping in, was filled with brightly reddish and gold cushions, and more handmade wool blankets with many pictures of knots and flowers embroidered by experts hands, sporting the colors of a clan Law have never known about.
At first glance, Law knew that this was the room of a woman. No man would allow so much lace and decorations full of flowers in his domains. Not even a simple cushion would even come into their room, let alone curtains, candles and vibrant red carpets.
Law, confused and still a bit dizzy, blinked in the strange environment. Where was he? And where were the warriors that chased him? And the dark forest covered with pure white snow? Why was he even still alive? Shouldn't he be dead by now?
Law moved aside the heavy blankets -the thick wool, the quilt of dark colors, and the furs of the huge white wolves from the north- with a quick move of his arm, and sat on the edge of the bed trying to make his head stop spinning. However, with the movement, the pain from the wound at his side flooded his body and Law bent over the bed letting out a muffled groan of pure agony.
With shaking hands from the fever that clearly still consumed him, Law lifted then the shirt that he realized somebody seemed to have dressed him with, and revealed the location of pain.
The wound that only seconds ago had threatened to kill him, was now stitched and bandaged over his strong stomach muscles. Law brushed his fingers over the thin strip of linen that covered the place, feeling the big stitches throbbing on his skin, still too tender and weak. Not many doctors knew this technique or dared to apply it, especially with the huge bone needles which were used in this area. Sewing a wound in this cold place normally only served to worsen the already critical situation. However, in this case, Law could only contemplate the stitched wound, surprised by the perfect job.
Still, at the sight of the now patched up wound, the dark haired boy couldn't stop the memories from resurfacing in his mind at what had happened and how the injury had been inflicted. For a moment, Law squeezed the blankets beside him, trying to contain the pain from a deeper and more painful wound than the one on his body, a wound that would not be so easy to sew and heal.
But again he refused to mourn and alleviate his suffering with the tears. He couldn't break now, if he started to remember, if he started to feel sorry; everything that was inside him would come out abruptly and Law would sink into darkness again. If he let his mind be consumed by the memories, Law would lose himself in longing for his loss over months or even years.
Before the mourn Law should take his revenge.
He couldn't take refuge in his grief and tragedy, he couldn't be broken now, not in an unknown place where he might be surrounded by enemies. Not when the people who had slaughtered his family still breathed the air of this world. He would cry later, when he returned home and buried the bodies of his clan beneath the snow and frozen ground of his domain, when he rendered homage to their souls and exhibited the heads of those that had betrayed them, stuck on a pike.
Swallowing the heavy lump in his throat, Law focused on the pain flooding his body through the wound in his side and tried to close the door in his mind that would liberate the ocean of darkness.
Slowly and carefully, the brown haired man rose from the bed and supported himself against the wall and on one of the shelves beside the bed. The world instantly teetered precariously around him and he nearly fell flat on the ground, but he took a deep breath, and let the initial dizziness pass while concentrating on something else.
Like on the strange clothes he was wearing: a simple dark shirt and matching baggy linen trousers that were hanging dangerously loose from his hips and that were stupidly big for him. Someone had taken his dirty and ruined clothes, had bathed him and cleaned the blood and mud that had covered his skin, and had put him into those clean and simple clothes in return.
Law didn't know if it was a good sign, those people could have helped him because of various reasons, not all of them to his benefit. He wasn't going to trust anyone now.
When everything stopped spinning around him and his stomach stopped growling upset with so much movement, Law took one of the gray furs from the bed, put it around his shoulders to keep himself warm and the fever at bay, and headed for the only door the room had with faltering steps.
The wooden floor was cold under his feet, and his skin felt wet with sweat. Law knew he should stay in bed in his state, but he couldn't rest and pretend he was asleep. He needed to find where he was, he needed to know if the shouts he heard outside the small room were friendly, or from his enemies, he needed to know if he could relax or should make a plan to escape as soon as possible.
His family had been betrayed, and Law was sure it had been several clans united. He couldn't trust anyone now. He didn't know who was friend and who was foe. Who would betray him after discovering who he was and would lead him to his enemies in exchange for a few pieces of gold?
Law was alone and disadvantaged.
He needed to be more careful than ever.
Opening the almost closed door to the room where the laughter and voices came from, Law quickly studied the huge place that received him.
High ceilings with large beams made of heavy logs were holding a roof of sculpted earth like the room in which he had awakened. The floor was made of red and black mosaics forming more wolves and bears of solid stone, but despite the cold material that covered the floor, the room looked just as cozy and warm as the previous one.
Banners and tapestries hung from the high ceiling trunks showing huge family trees, more heraldics of roaring bears and wolves decorated each corner, and large glass windows let the light enter the room from the ceiling and walls in a strange spectacle of lights and mirrors. Stoves and shelves loaded with food lined up the walls of the room, and two long tables with benches and plates were stuck against two walls leaving a small central hallway leading to another huge door that would surely lead to the main hall of the place.
Some men sat talking and laughing at the ends of the banks, with beers in their hands and a deck of cards on the table. In the kitchen, two women with voluptuous breasts and baggy dresses chatted while watching the fire pots and the children running and chasing each other around the room.
It looked like the typical dining room from a castle, the room where you would go to take refuge when bored or when something was wrong. This was the place to socialize, where announcements were made and banquets celebrated. That room smelled of family. Of clan.
Law chest tightened painfully again.
However, he had no time to mourn his tragedy when one of the children finally saw him standing by the door, and letting out a little shriek of surprise immediately stopped his game. Instantly all eyes in the room fell on him and an awkward silence filled the room as everyone suddenly became still and watched him surprised and almost fascinated.
That was a reaction too strange for the tanned boy's taste. Something was wrong. Was this the enemy's castle then?
Frowning, Law instantly opened his mouth to demand answers to the many questions that plagued his mind. Law tried to avoid the inquisitive eyes, tried to ask where he was and to figure out how to escape.
However, at that moment, one of the women next to the stoves seemed to finally react to his presence and, while stepping out of the kitchen and in the company of her friend, she quickly went to him with her dress waving behind her.
"Look who has awakened at last" said the woman with a kind smile while she subtly tried to direct him to where he had come from with one hand on his back. Hiding him from the view of the rest of people in the room. "You should have called me, darling, you shouldn't get out of bed in your state".
Law stared at her, refusing to go back to the dark room. She seemed older than him and had that aura of a maternal woman who has spent her entire life surrounded by people to look after. Her long straight hair cascaded over her shoulders and she had dreamy blue eyes which would be the fantasy of many men. This was clearly an attractive and loving woman, but Law knew that if he pisses her off, blood would flow in rivers. She looked exactly like his little sister, cute and pretty, but with a great temper when needed.
"Where am I?" Law asked, not surrendering to the pain that overwhelmed him when thinking about his family, nor the dizziness and the feeling of vomiting from his lack of strength. His mind was clouded again, but he needed the information. He needed to feel safe and secure before fainting in the midst of this strange place.
"Lie down first, honey" the woman repeated pointing to the bed again with a nod of her head.
Law couldn't do more than obey her in the tense silence that surrounded them, and follow her to the bed, still too weak to even fight the woman. When he was back on the bed and the woman had locked the door, the lady tucked him back under each one of the heavy and oppressive blankets, wiped the sweat from his brow with one of the damp cloths that were on a stool next to the bed, and gently sat beside him, like a mother preparing her son for sleep.
"Where am I?" Law couldn't help repeating again, but was immediately embarrassed at how weak and pathetic his voice sounded with his mind fogging again.
Maybe he was worse than what he had deigned to recognize at first, but he still refused to surrender his inquisition. However the woman just smiled at his question as she removed the hair from his forehead in a gesture that reminded Law too much of a mother caressing her child.
"You're in the dark wood" she tensely announced. As if it was a dark secret that she didn't want Law to know about.
As if this was really the case.
"Nobody lives in the dark forest" Law angrily replied. Maybe he was weak and feverish, but he wasn't stupid. The dark forest was so thick and deep that no one dared to enter it for fear of the creatures that lived in there.
No one who loved his life lived between those trees since the world was created. Entering that place would be a suicide. Children learned that lesson at an early age, after hearing the roars and howls of the wolves escaping from the place on nights of full moon.
"Well darling, we do" The woman however said, looking at him completely serious, as if she needed Law to believed her words quickly, and not ask much more about the topic. The brown haired boy strangely believed her instantly this time.
But while doing that he found himself having little panic attack, because if he was indeed, in the dark forest, the place of legends and mysteries, he had a huge big problem.
Since he was a child his mother had told him thousands of stories about the place that edged their icy lands. Dark and gloomy legends about wild creatures that could kill just by looking at you and that could tear your soul with their bare hands. It wasn't a safe place and mothers taught their children to stay away from it from the start. No one entered that forest if he wanted to live. Even when Law had entered, it had been out of desperation trying to escape the enemy, and even in that situation, he had remained on the edge and hadn't ventured much into its deeps.
However from what he could see through the window -with the evening light that could barely illuminate his room- he must be in the heart of the forest where trees were so clustered that not even the light or snow could get through the close branches.
This was where the monsters lived and where nightmares of the North men took shape.
But maybe it was better that way. Nobody would try to invade this forest. In this desolate place his enemies wouldn't find him. Here, Law could be safe within these isolated people. This could be the safest place for him at the moment.
It would also be more difficult to get out when the time to take his revenge come, too.
"My name it's Robin, by the way. How old are you, kid? You're old enough and handsome enough to have a wife and children, is there someone waiting for you at home? Any place to come back?" The woman then continued asking, tucking him even more under the blankets and stroking his cheek with devotion as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Law, however, felt his mind darkening again at the mention of his family and at the feel of the affectionate gesture. He hadn't been able to defend his people, he had failed to prevent the massacre. He didn't deserve this heartwarming affection.
"No," he said in a tense voice "no one".
The woman smiled pleasantly at his response, but still, after realizing Law dark and empty eyes, the smile faded from her face quickly. Robin knew that look like the back of her hand, she had seen it more times than she wanted in the eyes of the people of her own clan. The boy had lost something, something important, and seeing the wound he carried at his side, he must have lost it in the worst possible way.
The brunette couldn't help but feel sorry for that poor creature who was so clearly broken. Perhaps the fact that the boy was here would cause problems, but Robin couldn't let anyone do him any more harm. The vision she had seen in the forest when she had found the boy almost dead had been clear, and the brunette had sworn to protect the future of this boy with her own life, because that would also protect the clan's one.
That child would be essential for them in too many ways. She couldn't afford to lose him.
"Don't worry darling" she said, ruffling his hair like a mother trying to console her son. "You can stay here as long as you want, we just have to convince our stubborn Kidd that you aren't a threat and everything will be alright" she told him with that loving and a slightly conspiratorial voice.
Law frowned as he felt his eyes close at every new and loving caress of the brunette and the slight stupor that the heat of the blankets were causing him again.
"Who's Kidd?" He asked sleepily. He had never heard that name in his life. It sounded strange and pleasant in his ears, but it simply didn't belong to any family or clan of the country, otherwise Law would have known it.
The woman, however, only smiled amused at his sleepy face.
Law knew she was hiding something, he saw it in her eyes, in the silence and surprised faces of the men who had watched him when he had entered the dining room before, or in the strange scenario he suddenly was in. It was as if the dark haired man shouldn't be there, as if his mere presence had disturbed the peace of the strange forest and now something big was going to happen.
"You will meet him soon" the woman said evading the question and lovely tucking him one more time. Again looking at him with the look of someone who knows more than she wants to say "Sleep now, when food is done, I'll bring you a dish for you to recover and …"
Law wanted to protest to that last sentence. He still had questions. Who was Kidd? Why had they healed him? How long had he been sleeping? What were they hiding? Why were they living in the cursed woods? How were they still alive? The questions boiled in his mind, but the fever returned to flood him after the exercise and walking he had made, and Law just fell asleep in the warm room before even realizing that Robin had left him alone.