Magic Of Blood And Sea (Trafalgar Law X OC)

chapter 5

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After about four hours of uninterrupted sleep, Law was startled by a loud knocking at his door. Resisting the urge to bury his head back under the pillow, he reluctantly roused into a seated position.

"Come in," Law grudgingly muttered, hoping that whoever was on the other side would take the hint that he wanted to be left alone.

As the door slowly creaked open, he spied a hint of Bepo's orange jumper.

"Captain, Did I wake you up? ... Sorry," he said, his voice loaded with concern.

"I was about to get up anyway," he replied tiredly, trying to muster some degree of energy and civility. "What is it that you need?"

"I came to tell you that lunch is now being served," he offered, saluting as he spoke.

"Okay," Law replied, sighing heavily before dragging himself out of bed. "What has Feyre-ya been up to for the past few hours?" he inquired, already dreading the answer.

"She's been in her room for most of the time, but I saw her helping out in the galley some time earlier," he replied before adding, "Sorry, I was in the navigation room."

"Keep an eye on her, Bepo," He said, not entirely sure why he thought it was a good idea to make her a part of his crew.

"Hai!" he saluted again before disappearing out of the doorway.

After a quick change of clothes, the Surgeon made his way to the galley where a dozen or so crew members were already seated and eating. He spied Feyre talking with Clione near the end of the table.

At least she seems to be holding her own with the crew, Law thought as he took his seat at the head of the table.

However, as the meal progressed, Law noticed Feyre growing increasingly uncomfortable with the rough manners of the crew. Her refined upbringing was clearly at odds with the barbaric practices of his men. She was taught basic manners like not to talk with food in your mouth and to avoid chewing loudly, and to wipe your face with a napkin, not your sleeve.

Fortunately for Law, she didn't say anything as he watched and enjoyed her tortured face. Likely not wanting to hurt the crew's feelings.

Maybe this will teach her a bit of humility. After all, there's a reason why we're pirates.

As he watched Feyre suffer through the meal, the Surgeon couldn't help but marvel at the delicate balance of curiosity and fear that defined her. One moment she was boldly talking and engaging in conversations, eager to learn all about their adventures in the Grandline, and the next she was shrinking away. It was clear to him then that this girl possessed a rare kind of bravery— the kind that embraced both wonder and danger with equal ardor.

And yet, as Law sat at the head of the table, watching Feyre struggle, he couldn't help but wonder if that same bravery would prove to be her undoing.

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As the clattering of utensils died down and the last of the crew members filed out of the galley, Feyre remained behind to help with the clean-up. Despite her initial reservations about joining this band of pirates, she couldn't help but feel grateful for the way they had welcomed her into their fold— with a few exceptions, of course.

But as she scrubbed the grime from the dishes and polished the silverware, Feyre couldn't help but admire the loyalty and camaraderie that existed amongst this motley crew. They were like a tightly-knit family, bound together by a shared history of hardship and struggle. She wondered what kind of lives they had led before falling in with Trafalgar, and whether they would ever feel comfortable enough to confide in her their secrets and stories.