AN: Hello everyone! I was so excited to post this chapter I almost put it up early (which I know some of you wouldn't have minded one bit).

I wanted to thank DancingRose22 for the wonderful review and themelancholiasettles for the follow and favorite. I couldn't PM either of you but I still wanted to thank you for taking the time to read my story. It means a lot to me.

To keep you all updated, I've been getting an early start on my new job. I'll be the Library Media Specialist at an elementary school in my hometown by the time I post my next chapter. It will be my first year teaching and I'll be keeping my old job so my schedules going to be a little haywire. I don't expect it to get in the way of my writing and if it does (I may forego writing for sleep on some nights) I'll let you know. I'm super excited for this next chapter of my life and a little nervous because I don't know exactly what to expect but it'll be a lot of fun and I love learning new things. I've been spending most of my mornings organizing the shelves in my library and processing new books and filling out paperwork.

I always think best with physical activity (I like to take long walks to process things) and all this has been no exception. I've had some major breakthroughs with future plot points and, even though it will be forever and a day before you all read any of it, I'm working hard to bring you crazy and exciting chapters and plot twists and I think you all will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. Speaking of which, I had tons of fun writing and editing this segment. I wish I could write more Willow chapters, but sadly she hasn't come into play except in brief mention past this unit so far. We'll see if I have any more of those breakthroughs.

Thank you all for reading and I'll tell you about my first days of being a school librarian in the next chapter.

Willow wakes to someone touching her cracked lips and pinching at her burned cheeks. Her already irritated skin feels like someone had been slapping her at some point. She feels tired and sick and would much rather keep sleeping. She groans and bats their hands away. Feeling weak, she allows her heavy arm to flop back down onto the warm pallet. She doesn't have a blanket over her and her lounging chair is lumpy, damp, and uncomfortable. Her head aches far worse than it did before. Oh, if they'd just let her sleep it off. It would all go away if they would just let her sleep. "She seems to be coming around now," Ludovic's voice says from somewhere above her face, but it sounds muddled somehow. She tries to say something but little sound comes out. She feels like her mouth traveled to a desert overnight. She can still taste wine on her tongue, but it's dried into fruit leather on her taste buds and glass in her throat. She reaches a feeble hand up and pulls her hat down over her eyes.

"What did she say?"

Why is Baldwin still at their mansion? Or is she at his manor? Trying to remember exactly where she is makes her head spin. She starts to fall asleep again but the other person starts messing with her face again, roughly smacking her cheeks and shaking her. She wants to throw up on the person. It would serve them right, abusing a sick person like this. Only one person would have the audacity. Ludovic.

"She's asking for a servant to bring her an umbrella," her brother's accented voice cuts through the fog in her head with a painful stab of annoyance.

Baldwin's scoff comes through in wavering tones. "Don't you people do anything for yourselves?" Sound is coming in and out like the waves bobbing them up and down. Waves. Are they on a ship, then? She distantly remembers a ship, transporting her across the sea from the Red Line to... somewhere. Thinking takes too much effort. It's so hard to stay even remotely conscious.

"Eat this." Something warm and mushy is pressed to her lips. She wants to push it away, but the dampness feels good where her lips had begun to bleed and she can't quite remember how to use her arms properly. She allows the substance to pass into her mouth where it seeps moisture into her gums and throat. She manages to swallow. Her brother offers her more and she takes it readily. After a few bites her mouth moistens enough to taste it. It has a briny flavor and a thick but malleable texture that seems very familiar. She opens her eyes with great difficulty and sees Ludovic ferrying a chunk of raw fish and shredded seaweed towards her mouth. Her stomach lurches and she sits up quickly. The motion makes her head swim, and if it isn't for Ludovic's strong hand she would have toppled over. Her head is too heavy to lift and only her revulsion is keeping her awake. Her brother takes advantage of her momentary weakness and shoves the mash into her mouth. His fingers pinch her nose shut and his free hand wraps under her chin, pressing it forcefully closed. "Oh no you don't. You need the nutrients and fluids. You've lost enough water as it is." She throws up, but with her mouth held shut it has nowhere to go except back down. Ludovic feels her swallow and lets her go. She falls forward gagging and gasping. She manages to drag herself to the water and washes her mouth out with feeble motions. The ocean. A raft of stinking, lumpy, squelching seaweed. The memory of being stranded wash over her as a sudden churn of the water causes her to be splashed full on in the face. If piracy doesn't kill Karmen, she might try to strangle the child herself.

Willow is still too weak to pull herself away from the water, so Ludovic rolls her onto her back and lifts her shoulders away from the edge. Still feeling he has the advantage over her, he shoves another lump of mash into her mouth and gives her the same treatment as before. To her defense, she doesn't throw up this time. The first time had been bad enough.

"Are you trying to kill me?" she yells hoarsely when she's capable. Now her throat is raw from the glassy feeling and stomach acids combined.

"Look at that," Ludovic says, almost regretfully. "You're already feeling better."

"Uhg." Willow sticks her tongue out, trying to get out the lingering taste. She can't deny that having food in her stomach is negating the heavy sleep that had been pulling on her and she feels slightly more in control of her body than before, but she isn't going to give him the satisfaction. She feels unsteady and has to prop herself up on one arm, but anger gives her the energy to give her commentary. "That's disgusting."

"But you lived," Baldwin says in a tone that doesn't help her pounding head. "Stop complaining." She pulls her hat lower over her face. She may be awake but the sun's glare off the waves still seems unnaturally bright to her sensitive eyes.

"You seem to be having a rougher time of it than us," Ludovic muses. "Is it because you're a woman? Are you… losing more fluids than you do on normal weeks?"

"Me being a woman has nothing to do with it!" She takes her hat off and smacks him with it, almost falling over with the motion. She'd been drinking wine for two days straight. She should be more hydrated than this, yet hitting her brother seems to have taken all her energy. She sits with her pounding head between her knees and rests. Slowly, it alleviates until she can lift her head and watch the ocean again with a little less pain. Ludovic, satisfied that she's not about to die, moves back to his little plot of seaweed and fishes, using the guts of his previous catches as bait. She sees a two-foot fish carcass next to where he sits, picked clean of meat. Had he somehow managed to feed her an entire fish or had they split it among themselves? Despite her aversion to eating a fish with its face still attached, she has to admit that the meal had made her feel better. When Ludovic catches another she swallows her pride and mumbles something in his direction.

"What was that, Willie?" he asks, using the nickname that he knows she hates to tell her that he'd heard her, he just wants to rub it in her face.

She swallows angrily. It hurts to speak and she still doesn't feel well. He could show her a little consideration. "I said, can I have some fish?"

Ludovic tears the fish in half and drops the guts into the tank. They splash down with a sound that turns her stomach. "Make me a hat."

"Make your own darn hat!"

He bounces the fish in his hand. It seems like he's about to toss part of it to her, but at the last minute he throws the portion to Baldwin, who sneers up at her before taking a bite. "Then catch your own darn fish." He sets the tank with its spattering of fish guts in front of her and she blanches. "And if you lose my tank, I'll feed you to a shark."

It isn't that she's entirely against making him a hat, but making her own had been an accident. She doesn't remember how she did it and her fingers still aren't responding like they should. She'd rather try her hand at fishing than admit she's incapable of doing something twice.

She glares at him but grabs the tank. It's so heavy she has to use two hands to hold it. She remembers only last week when he'd set his tank in her lap as a form of greeting in Mariejois. It had felt this heavy full of acid then as she'd shoved it off her and scowled at her brother. Maybe she's been sicker than she thought if her arms are this feeble. She knows that if she wants to prevent Ludovic from force feeding her in the future, she has to take matters into her own hands. She'd shoot him in the foot or something in retaliation after they get out of this mess and she can get a pistol. If she wants to survive, she's going to have to stop being picky. The thought of it alone is enough to make her consider death as the better alternative, but maybe trying it for a day wouldn't entirely be a bad thing. She'll get through this and not eat fish for a year.

She holds the tank sideways and lowers it into the water and immediately almost drops it. She recovers quickly, making sure Ludovic hadn't seen her hands slip, and she waits. She lets her fingers lock on the cold glass and allows her arms to dangle freely. Luckily it isn't long before a curious fish swims the mouth to investigate the possibility of food. When it's near the bottom pecking at the guts, Willow gently tilts the tank until it's upright and there's no chance of escape. The fish barely even notices the slosh of the water as it continues to eat.

She's struggling to pull the tank back onto the raft when a large hand reaches over her shoulder and lifts it for her. She looks up to find Ludovic looking into the tank and nodding his satisfaction. "A good catch. It will make you feel better." He cleans the fish for her, making sure to remove the head and tail and a majority of the bones, and hands her both halves. She doesn't say anything but begins to eat without complaint. It isn't as bad as she first imagined, especially when she's filled with pride at having caught her own meal. She isn't going to make a habit of it, but she can say that she'd done it at least once. She wraps a bit of seaweed around her next few bites and imagines she's eating riceless sushi in the shade of the topiaries in her gardens.

"Give me part of that fish," Baldwin demands.

"Willow caught the fish, so it is hers," Ludovic says, fixing him with a cold look. "I tire of fishing. If you are hungry, catch a fish yourself." He sets the tank near Baldwin. Willow can't help but give her brother an appreciative smile. She's happy to see the corners of his mouth twitch up in return.

Hours pass and her headache slowly dulls to a soft pulse. Her eyes don't feel so grainy and her lips seem to have at least stopped flaking where they stand. Fish scales pepper the corner of her mouth and her cheeks. Her cousin had once put fish scales on her lips for a party as a sparkling fashion statement. Willow wonders if she could use them to deflect the sun. If she burns much more she's going to crack. Her mouth feels somewhat lubricated, though it seems to be more from the fish than her own saliva.

When she's feeling well enough to be bored again, she tries her hand at making rope. She knots, weaves, braids, splices, and twists to no avail. Had anything come out looking like a hat, she would have offered it to Ludovic, but nothing she tries makes sun protection or rope. Still, it occupies her mind and gives her something to do, so she keeps going until Baldwin stops her. "You're going to waste the whole raft if you keep that up." She looks down and finds him to be right. She'd taken two feet off her side of the raft and had nothing to show for it. "We'll find another way to get out of this. We can't afford to waste food and shelter."

"Or you could just make it," she mutters at him.

"You've wasted enough already. If we made enough rope for a fish big enough for all of us to fit on, we won't have any raft left," he says. "At least this way we know we have a reliable food source for a while longer." She doesn't have enough energy to keep up an argument, so she lets it go.

Willow looks around, still seeing no signs of other life or rescue. She'd once heard someone say that the ocean is a desert. Now she understands what they meant. There isn't even a seabird in sight and nothing but endless water on the horizon. Her hair is tangled and crusted with salt. Her skin is dry and burned. Her clothing is smelly, soggy, and worn. She can't believe that she's already started getting used to living like this after only three days, how quickly she'd let down her barriers when it came to what she is and is not willing to do. It's enough to drive a classy woman to drink. She reaches into her skirt and pulls out her second bottle of wine. She pops the cork and takes a drink.

"You've had wine this whole time?" Baldwin roars.

"What's it to you?" she asks, letting the liquid soothe her mouth and throat. It fills her stomach, cheeks, and fingers with a sense of warmth that negates the freezing water that's leaking through the raft. The wine gives her the feeling of home out here on this godforsaken lump and she's not about to pass it off to a barbarian like him. "It's not water, and it's mine. Find your own." She raises the bottle to her lips again.

Baldwin lunges for it. Willow twists away at the same moment, causing him to barrel into her. Still being somewhat unsteady, she topples under his weight as he grapples for her drink. They both land roughly on the seaweed. The portion of raft sinks dangerously low and the wine flies from her hand. It lands in the water with a deafening sploosh as it breaks the surface tension. The bottle sinks immediately, leaving a trail of red in its wake that pools around the raft as it slowly disperses. "You idiot!" Willow screams as Ludovic throws Baldwin off her. "Now no one can drink it!"

"You might as well have been drinking seawater anyway," he growls back, wiping his scraped chin on his sleeve as the raft slowly raises back to surface level. "Alcohol dehydrates you. If you want to drink wine on the ocean you have to leave it sitting open long enough for the alcohol to evaporate."

"That would ruin it," she huffs, wringing her skirt out and discretely digging up the empty bottle from the day before.

"But it would make it drinkable and it could have saved our lives," Baldwin says. "You nobles are only ever thinking of yourselves. If you'd said you'd had it earlier we could have something to drink by now. It's no wonder everyone wants to kill your kind."

Willow brings the bottle into view and holds it upside down by the neck looking around for a place to smash it. A broken bottle wouldn't match her lost pistols, but a weapon is a weapon. Smashing it over his barbarian head would be satisfying at least. Baldwin catches the look in her eye and stands, fists ready to swing. Ludovic gives a guttural growl and gets ready to jump between them.

They're all ready to leap and rip out each other's throats when their seaweed raft lurches, causing them all to fall over.

"What was that?" Willow asks, clutching her bottle like a comfort blanket.

"I believe it was a fish," Ludovic says sarcastically.

"I meant what kind of fish!" she snaps at him. She so doesn't need this from him right now, but no, he always has to give her grief. Now's not the time to one-up siblings, so she tries to ignore him and logic out their situation instead. It isn't an easy feat, but living is a little higher on her priority list. While she enjoys being waited on hand and foot, she hadn't let pampering get in the way of her education (mother wouldn't allow it) and she still has a fair amount of common sense. "Obviously it's not a sea king. It would have swallowed us first and asked questions later."

"It's big, whatever it is," Baldwin says.

Nothing happens for a few long seconds. "Maybe it was just passing by," Ludovic says, hope tinging his voice.

The seaweed is hit again, causing it to skim several feet through the water. Willow chokes down a squeak of surprise and fear. "Is it trying to flip us or break the seaweed apart?" Baldwin asks, clinging to whatever he can. He only succeeds in ripping up handfuls of seaweed so he flattens himself like a starfish.

"Would both of you shut up before we find out?!" Willow hisses in a low tone. Her brain sorts through everything she knows about what draws a fish to prey. "If you don't jinx us all first, then it could be drawn to the sound of your voices."

They all flatten themselves on the seaweed and close their mouths. No one questions Willow's knowledge of fish and their willingness to eat people. Out of the three of them, she's the expert. The water is deathly still. Even the high rolling of the waves seem to have leveled out to a minimal bob. No one breathes. They wait.

A fin breaks the surface. It's long and segmented with grass green webbing in between boney spikes. The fin is followed by a long, sleek body. An eel. The ones around Valcour were known for being able to destroy a ship. She'd watched three tear a man apart as a child. Her mother had pushed the disgruntled commoner into the water and stood there laughing as he screamed into a gurgling silence. Barbarian humans aren't gods like Celestial Dragons, and therefore don't require pity. That's what mother had said. She looks over at Ludovic, who seems to be having the same memory. This one could swallow them whole if it got its teeth in them.

Its tail breaks through the surface and beats down against the edge of their raft, tearing loose a large portion of seaweed. It hangs, a few strands away from floating or sinking. Still, as the tail slithers under the water, it is clear that segment is useless to them now and their small perimeter of security has just shrunk by that much. They stay silent. They wait. Willow even makes a silent attempt at a prayer, demanding that whatever higher power that exists, not that she can think of anything above a Celestial Dragon, serve her and banish this hell-beast. When they see the grass green fin a few hundred meters out, moving farther still, they begin to relax.

"Where did it come from?" Willow asks.

"It's the ocean, sister darling," Ludovic says sardonically, feeling a little braver now that their attacker is far away. "It came from the water."

"You know what I meant!" she responds, nearly gnashing her teeth at him. "We'd been left completely undisturbed or hunted until just now!"

"Maybe it was thirsty," Baldwin jokes, waving his hand at the bottle still in hers. "It's gone now. That's what's important."

Thirsty? Thirsty. Thirsty. Valcour always had eels like that. They fed on the bodies of the slaves that they threw into the ocean. She looks down at the bottle. There aren't any dead bodies here, so what had attracted the beast? They'd been arguing for days, so her and Baldwin's scuffle shouldn't have done the trick. It doesn't make any sense. The wine was from Valcour, but it was just grapes and spices and balancing chemicals. She'd never heard of an alcoholic sea monster before. It doesn't make any sense.

She sits down. All this thinking and stress is giving her headache new life and she could use a drink. She sets the empty bottle aside and pulls a full one from beneath her skirt. Baldwin stares at her. "You have more?"

She rolls her eyes. "After the stunt you just pulled I'd rather sacrifice you to the eel, but if you be a good little barbarian I might be inclined to give you some." She uncorks it and raises it to her lips only to hesitate. "How long did you say it would take for this to do us some good?" While sacrificing Baldwin seemed the more enjoyable option, she couldn't help but notice he had a small collection of useful information. She could bribe him with a drink or two into being more willing to cooperate. Pawns are easy to come by, so long as you have leverage.

Willow set the bottle in a little divot in the center of the seaweed mass where there is less of a chance of it becoming contaminated by saltwater. The three of them sit in silence while they wait. They're all tired of each other, scared that the eel may come back, hungry, thirsty, and any more interaction might lead to more fighting. Every now and then they see a fin in the distance or a scaly, sleek body, but aren't otherwise disturbed. Ludovic tries fishing again, but the creature scared all the smaller fish away.

Willow, for lack of anything better to do, pulls the broken off clump of seaweed up onto the main mass and begins braiding a lumpy rope. When she has three feet of it, she holds it up and gives it a tug, expecting it to be pulled taut. Instead, it falls into three pieces and the bits left in her hands crumble back into stringy clumps of individual stalks. She lifts a leaf to her mouth and takes a bite out of it, chewing indignantly. It's gummy and salty and tastes like snotty brine. She wants to spit it out, but she knows she needs the calories and they might not have fish for a while now. The seaweed clings to her mouth in slimy retaliation.

Time passes. They deem the wine safe to drink, and the bottle is passed.

As the weather on the Grand Line goes, what they can expect is unpredictable and it makes it hard to differentiate between day and night at points. The sun is blazing some of the time, gone others, and occasionally it is blocked by clouds. It rains and they refill the empty bottles, making funnels out of seaweed while huddling together for warmth until the storms pass. For a while, they are glad to see the sun's return, but the glare of it quickly loses its welcome. They eat seaweed and drink what little water they can collect and, after a while, they don't even have the energy to fight, even when they feel relatively safe.