Chapter 3: Thornes of silk and ice
She had felt warm and safe in her dream, wrapped in the soft embrace of a cloud, its gentle warmth hugging her. But reality pulled her back, tugging her toward a harsher truth.
As her bright green eyes fluttered open, she found herself staring up at a peeling, gray-white ceiling in a large, open room. Slowly, she sat up, the luxurious silk sheets slipping from her shoulders as she pulled them up under her arms. The softness clung to her, reminding her briefly of the fleeting comfort she had known in sleep.
But the dream was gone, and the cold reality of her surroundings set in.
Her eyes scanned the room. It had once been grand, she could tell—the tall ceilings, heavy curtains, and fine craftsmanship of the furniture all hinted at a faded elegance. But now, the paint was peeling, and the carpets were worn thin. She blinked, confused. Wherever she was, it wasn't Spring Haven. She knew every house and tree on that frozen island. This place was foreign, unfamiliar.
And then she remembered.
The man with the pink feathered coat.
She had seen him standing over her before she passed out, his cold, knowing smile lingering in her mind. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized: he was real. He had come for her.
Her heartbeat quickened. She had to hide—anywhere but here.
But her legs were weak. She tried to move, but the blood loss, combined with exhaustion, was too much. Her body collapsed with a heavy thud onto the cold, hard floor beside the bed. The impact knocked the air out of her lungs, leaving her gasping in pain. Darkness danced at the edges of her vision, but she fought it, pressing her hand against the bleeding wound on her arm.
"Yonhi-san, I'm sorry..." she mumbled, the name slipping out of her mouth before she could stop it. Her mind was hazy, slipping between the past and present. "I don't know how I got in the bed… please don't punish me..." Tears welled in her eyes, not entirely sure of what was happening.
The door flew open, slamming against the wall with a loud crash.
Doflamingo stood there, his tall frame filling the doorway, his face twisted in a moment of surprise before it quickly returned to its usual smirk. Behind him was the doctor, Dr. Dooms, his eyes widening in alarm as he spotted her on the floor, blood pooling around her arm.
"She's bleeding," the doctor muttered, rushing past Doflamingo toward Vespera's crumpled figure. "Quickly, get her back in the bed."
Doflamingo didn't move from his spot, his eyes locked on Vespera. There was something unreadable in his gaze—curiosity mixed with calculation.
Dr. Dooms worked quickly, grabbing disinfectant and bandages from the small table beside the bed. He knelt beside her, his fingers deftly cleaning the wound. "It's not deep," he said with relief, "but she's lost a bit of blood."
As the doctor's eyes flicked back to Vespera, he noticed a thin layer of frost spreading from her fingertips, creeping across the sheets and glistening under the light. His eyes widened slightly as he continued his examination, his expression growing more cautious.
He hesitated, his fingers pausing briefly. "What… was that frost?" Dr. Dooms asked quietly, keeping his gaze fixed on Vespera's hand. "She's a Devil Fruit user, isn't she?"
Doflamingo's eyes narrowed at the frost, a hint of satisfaction flickering in his expression. It seemed his suspicions were right.
Vespera, however, wasn't listening. Her mind was far away, trapped between memories of the past and the present. Her eyes glazed over as she muttered, "Yonhi-san, please don't punish me. I didn't mean to..." Her voice trailed off, and tears welled up in her eyes, though she didn't understand why.
The doctor paused, looking up at Doflamingo, whose expression remained impassive.
"She's delirious," Dr. Dooms said softly. "I'll need to sedate her before she goes into shock." He pulled a small syringe from his pocket and filled it with a clear liquid from a brown vial. With practiced hands, he injected the sedative into her arm, his touch gentle despite the urgency of the situation.
Vespera's breathing slowed, and her trembling began to subside as the sedative took hold. But just before she fully succumbed to the drug, her eyes flickered upward.
Doflamingo.
She saw him standing there, his pink coat catching the light, his presence dominating the room. In her half-dazed state, his figure blurred, shifting between reality and the dream she had clung to for so long. He had come.
"You really did come," she whispered, her voice weak and barely audible. "You came for me..."
The weight of exhaustion pulled her back into unconsciousness before she could say anything more.
Doflamingo's smirk faded slightly as he watched her, his eyes narrowing in thought. There was something strange about this girl—something more than the mystery of her powers.
Dr. Dooms finished bandaging her arm, shaking his head. "Well, it looks like she woke up, Doflamingo," he said sarcastically, standing up and wiping the blood from his hands. "But I had to sedate her again. Whatever she's been through, it's left some deep scars."
Doflamingo said nothing at first, his eyes still locked on the small, fragile figure lying in his bed, surrounded by silk sheets. Finally, he turned toward the doctor. "Make sure she's stable," he ordered, his voice calm but cold. "I don't need her dying on me before I find out what she's capable of."
Dr. Dooms nodded. "I'll keep an eye on her. But be careful with this one, Doflamingo. She's been through a lot more than we realized."
Doflamingo didn't respond. His thoughts had already drifted elsewhere.
As he turned to leave the room, a flash of red hair and a faint laugh echoed in his mind, unbidden and unclear. He froze for a moment, his hand brushing his forehead as he tried to grasp the fleeting memory.
But just as quickly as it came, the image disappeared.
Dr. Dooms stood over the unconscious girl, frustration etched into his face. "You best tell me what's going on, Doflamingo," he snapped, wiping blood from his hands. "Why did I need to sedate a child because she was hysterical? What exactly are you involved in here?"
Doflamingo's brow furrowed slightly, irritation flickering across his face. He didn't appreciate being questioned—especially not by someone he barely trusted. But the doctor was useful, and Doflamingo had learned long ago that you don't discard useful pieces.
"I don't enjoy seeing a child suffer unless it serves a purpose," Doflamingo said coolly, dismissing the accusation with a wave of his hand. His eyes, however, remained sharp, holding a glint of warning. "She's been through more than you can imagine. You just happened to catch her at a bad moment."
Dr. Dooms frowned, his skepticism evident. "A bad moment? She's terrified. That kind of fear doesn't just come from nowhere."
Doflamingo leaned casually against the windowsill, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Do you know of Spring Haven?"
The doctor blinked, momentarily thrown by the shift in conversation. "Yes, it's called Frozen Hell now. Recently frozen over—no one knows why."
Doflamingo's smirk widened. "This girl… she's the reason for that. She froze the entire island, though I doubt she understands her power." His eyes flicked toward Vespera, her fragile form lying still in the bed, surrounded by the soft luxury of silk sheets that contrasted sharply with her torn and bloodstained dress.
Dr. Dooms stiffened, his eyes widening. "She caused it?"
"Unintentionally," Doflamingo said with a light chuckle. "Power like hers, without control, can be... dangerous. When I arrived, she was locked in a cage, left to die by her own people."
The doctor's hands tightened around his tools. "And what if she doesn't survive? What happens to her then?"
Doflamingo's smile disappeared, replaced by a cold, predatory gaze. "She'll survive," he said, his voice low and filled with certainty. "Because I need her to."
Dr. Dooms met his gaze, feeling the weight of the pirate's words. This wasn't just about power—it was something more. And he knew he was already in too deep.
As the doctor reset the IV drip, Doflamingo took a step closer, towering over him. "Keep her stable," he said, his tone icy. "If anything happens to her before I find out what I need… you'll find out what it means to cross a Donquixote."
Dr. Dooms swallowed hard, nodding slowly. "I'll keep an eye on her," he muttered, trying to maintain his composure despite the growing tension.
Satisfied, Doflamingo turned and left the room, his pink-feathered coat trailing behind him like the shadow of death. As the door clicked shut, Dr. Dooms let out a long breath, his gaze drifting back to the unconscious girl. Whatever Doflamingo was planning, it involved her in ways he couldn't yet understand. And that made it dangerous for all of them.
Doflamingo and Diamante stood outside the hideout, watching the distant horizon as the wind carried the scent of the sea. The warehouse around them was a far cry from elegance—walls peeling, junk and metal scattered around like remnants of a forgotten past. But this was temporary. Pirates didn't need grand estates. They needed power, and for Doflamingo, power was always within his grasp.
"It's been a week already," Diamante said, lighting a cigarette as he glanced toward the hideout. "The kid—she's still out of it."
Doflamingo didn't reply immediately, his eyes scanning the town below. "She'll wake when she's ready."
They stood in silence for a moment, before Diamante snorted. "Not every kid can handle this life, Doffy. Most run off. Let's see if she can last."
Trebol sauntered over, his lanky frame casting a long shadow. "Ne, ne... I don't know if that kid's gonna last either," he said, his nasal voice dripping with amusement. "But Doffy, we've got more pressing matters than some brat. Word is, some of the underground gangs are gathering weapons."
Doflamingo's smirk returned. "Weapons? And what do they think they'll do with them?"
"They think they're strong enough to take us out," Trebol replied, letting out a wheezing laugh. "But no Devil Fruit users among them, just a bunch of wannabes."
"Let them gather," Doflamingo said coolly. "It'll be more fun watching them realize how futile their little plan is."
Diamante laughed, his grin wide. "Fuffuffu, you're right. Let 'em try. The moment they see us, they'll wish they hadn't."
"Exactly," Doflamingo said, his gaze never leaving the horizon. "There's no joy in crushing weaklings who don't even know they've lost before they start."
Before they could continue, they noticed a figure approaching—a scrawny boy, his skin pale and marked with blotches, his eyes filled with something that made even the most seasoned pirate take notice. There was no fear in those eyes, only raw determination.
The boy stopped in front of them, his breath steady despite his sickness.
"I want to join your crew," the boy declared, his voice unwavering.
Diamante and Trebol exchanged glances before bursting into laughter. "Fuffuffu! A brat like you? What makes you think you can handle this life?" Diamante mocked.
Trebol leaned closer, his face dripping with amusement. "And what's with those patches on your skin, huh? You look like you're about to keel over any second. You sure you're not contagious?"
The boy stood firm, his eyes never leaving Doflamingo's. "I read my medical files. It's not contagious. But I'm dying. I've only got a few years left to live."
Doflamingo's smirk didn't waver as he took a step closer, looming over the boy. "Flevance, huh?" he said, recognizing the telltale signs of Amber Lead poisoning. "The White City... you've seen hell already."
"I have," the boy replied, meeting Doflamingo's gaze with defiance. "That's why I'm here. I'm not afraid to die."
Doflamingo's smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming with interest. "You want power? Then prove you're worthy of it. Cross me or my family, and you'll suffer for it."
Law nodded once, his face set with determination.
As they turned to head back inside, Doflamingo called over his shoulder. "What's your name, kid?"
Law paused before answering, his voice low but resolute. "Trafalgar D. Water Law."
Doflamingo's smirk returned, but he didn't say anything further. There was no welcome, no invitation—just a challenge left hanging in the air.
The warmth of the silk sheets clung to Vespera as she slowly opened her eyes, her mother's voice whispering in the fading corners of her mind. The softness was disorienting, a far cry from the cold, rough reality she had known for so long. She clutched the blanket closer, as if its delicate threads could protect her from the world she had been thrust into.
But then she remembered. Him.
Doflamingo. The man in the pink feathers.
Her heart raced as the image of him standing over her, smirking, flashed in her mind. The man her mother had whispered about for years. The one who was supposed to save them.
She sat up quickly, her head spinning as the room swayed. The grandeur of her surroundings—the tall ceilings, fine curtains, and luxurious furniture—felt suffocating. She wasn't in Spring Haven anymore.
"Where am I?" she whispered to herself, pulling the silk sheets tighter around her trembling frame.
Before she could collect her thoughts, the door creaked open, and Doflamingo entered the room. His imposing figure cast a long shadow as he approached, his grin wide and twisted, eyes glinting with amusement.
"Awake at last," he said smoothly, his voice a cold contrast to the warmth of the room.
Vespera shrank back against the headboard, her green eyes wide with fear and suspicion. The room seemed to close in on her, the walls feeling too close, her escape nonexistent.
"You slept for quite a while," Doflamingo continued, stepping closer. His presence was overwhelming, dominating the room as if he owned not just the space, but everything and everyone in it.
Vespera swallowed hard, her throat tight with the tension building inside her. "Why… why am I here?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Doflamingo chuckled softly, his amusement growing. "You're here because I brought you here. You should be thanking me."
Her heart pounded in her chest, anger and confusion swirling inside her. "Thank you?" she whispered, her voice barely containing the bitterness that rose in her throat. "You sailed past us. You left us... you left her."
Doflamingo's smile faltered briefly, his eyes narrowing. "What are you talking about?"
"My mother waited for you for years. You never came," Vespera said, her voice trembling with the weight of the accusation. "You knew we were there, and you didn't come."
Doflamingo's face hardened, his expression darkening as he stepped closer to the bed. "I didn't come because I had no reason to."
Vespera's breath caught in her throat. No reason? After all those years, that was his answer?
"You don't know anything about me," she muttered, her anger simmering beneath the surface.
Doflamingo's smile returned, cold and predatory. He leaned in closer, his face inches from hers, eyes gleaming with menace. "I know enough. And I don't need your past." His voice was sharp, laced with cruelty. "Tell me your name."
Vespera's jaw tightened, her fists clenching the silk sheets. The name her mother had given her felt like the only piece of herself she had left—the last part of her that wasn't broken. She met his gaze, her defiance burning through the fear.
"I don't owe you anything," she spat, her voice low but filled with resolve.
Doflamingo's smile widened, his amusement growing as if her defiance only entertained him. He leaned back slightly, his eyes never leaving hers. "You'll give it to me eventually," he said, his voice a whisper of poison. "Your name is meaningless here. I own you now."
Vespera glared at him, her heart pounding in her chest, but she said nothing.
Doflamingo chuckled, turning away as if her resistance meant nothing to him. "Rest, little witch," he called over his shoulder as he strode out of the room. "You'll need your strength for what comes next."
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Vespera alone in the cold, suffocating silence.
Doflamingo leaned back in his chair, the familiar weight of his pink-feathered coat draped over him as he watched his family gather around the long dining table. The air was thick with the smell of roasted meat and wine, a typical dinner for the Donquixote Pirates. Tonight, though, a thought tugged persistently at the back of his mind, urging him to turn his attention elsewhere.
The girl.
He narrowed his eyes, trying to shake the thought. She's a tool, he reminded himself, a weapon to be honed, a potential asset. Nothing more.
But her whispered words from earlier haunted him: "You came for me…" The way she had looked at him, as though he had been the answer to a question she had asked for years, gnawed at him in a way he couldn't quite place. Why did it matter what she thought?
"Doffy, you're quiet tonight." Diamante's voice cut through his thoughts, drawing his gaze. He was grinning, a glass of wine in his hand. "Something on your mind?"
Trebol leaned in, his crooked smile widening as he cackled. "Ne, ne… thinking about our little treasure, aren't you? She's more trouble than she looks, eh?"
Doflamingo didn't answer right away. He raised his glass, letting the familiar burn of the wine distract him. "She'll be useful once she's ready," he said after a moment, his tone casual, though something darker lingered beneath his words.
"Useful, huh?" Senor Pink muttered from the other side of the table, his gravelly voice cutting through the chatter. "You think she'll actually be an asset? Or is she just another stray we picked up?"
Doflamingo's lips curled into a small smile, though his thoughts were distant. "That depends on how well she adjusts."
At the far end of the table, Baby 5's eyes lit up. "I can help her when she gets better!" she piped up eagerly. "We could play games, or train, or—"
"She's not a plaything," Doflamingo interrupted, his voice sharp. Baby 5 flinched, mumbling an apology as she shrank back in her seat. He waved it off dismissively, his attention already drifting elsewhere.
Gladius, who had been quietly slicing into his meat, finally looked up. His tone was measured. "The girl has power," he observed, "but she's been broken. She might not recover as quickly as you expect."
Doflamingo's grip on his glass tightened slightly at the word broken. It lingered in his mind, bothering him more than he wanted to admit. Malnourished, yes. Traumatized, possibly. But broken? No. He had seen something in her eyes—a flicker of strength buried beneath her fear and exhaustion. She wasn't broken; she was unshaped.
"What's broken can be fixed," he said, his voice low but resolute. "I'll decide when she's ready."
The table fell into a momentary silence, the crew exchanging glances but knowing better than to press the topic. Doflamingo's authority was absolute, and they respected that boundary.
"Ne, Doffy," Trebol said, breaking the silence, "we'll have to keep an eye on her. Kids like her… they either adapt or they run. And I don't think she's the running type."
Doflamingo smirked, his usual predatory confidence returning. "No," he said slowly, "she won't run. Not yet, at least."
Diamante leaned back in his chair with a wide grin. "Fuffuffu, you've already got her figured out, huh? Guess we'll just have to see."
The crew laughed, and the conversation shifted back to the usual banter of their nightly meals. But Doflamingo's mind remained elsewhere, haunted by a pull he couldn't fully understand. He didn't care for anyone outside his family. Yet there it was, that strange tugging, as if a thread unseen was weaving itself between him and the girl.
As the evening wore on, he made a quiet vow to himself: whatever this connection was, he would uncover it. He would understand it, control it, just as he controlled everything else.
As dawn approached, the estate stirred to life with the familiar sounds of the crew preparing for another day. Buffalo and Baby 5 were already up, their voices faintly audible from outside as they sparred under Gladius's watchful eye.
Doflamingo, however, remained in his chambers, deep in thought as he stood by the window, looking out over the sprawling, dilapidated estate. His mind kept circling back to the girl resting in his bed—Vespera. He stole a glance at her small form, nearly lost in the expanse of silk and shadows.
There's something more to her, he mused, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. Something I'll unravel soon enough.
A knock on his door broke his thoughts, and Diamante entered, his usual grin plastered on his face. "Fuffuffu, everyone's ready. What's the plan, Doffy?"
Doflamingo didn't turn to face him, his gaze still locked on the horizon. "We move at noon. Make sure everyone's prepared."
Diamante saluted mockingly, though his tone was serious. "You got it, boss."
As Diamante left, Doflamingo's smirk returned, his fingers tracing the edge of his sunglasses as he turned away from the window.
It was time to test the pieces on the board.
Author's Note:
Thank you so much for reading! I'm excited to finally share Chapter 3 with you all, and I hope you enjoyed it. I'd love to hear your thoughts, so please leave a review to let me know what you think. And as a special bonus, Chapter 4 is also going live today—enjoy!