It would take time to get used to his mere living condition, the confirmation of his continued existence, let alone to assimilate him anew, learning if the heartful man of his boyhood had modified his personality in the slightest or grown out of his more unbecoming antics. Everyone changed β an infinitesimal amount per random interval β but longing was a complainer. It wished for resistance against nature's due course; it craved a beloved moment to endure, no longer fleeting and lost, an eternal vignette of how things must truly be. It made Law wish CorazΓ³n remained the same to facilitate reconnection and prolong their last happy flashes as circumstantial father and son. Nostalgia did have the habit of colouring memories a rosy hue, but Law knew the joys he recalled from those days with CorazΓ³n to be real, not just a coping mechanism of caprice. An egotistical want, for certain, but love has a way with selfishness in all its forms, including this one.
One pesky observation that change had, indeed, remained constant β how dare it? β bothered Law at first, as he realised CorazΓ³n did not seem as hauntingly big anymore. The boy had done a good deal of catching up to the man since, the same noun acquired for himself in the process, though a full metre still set them apart. But the unease soon materialised into a soft smile, as Law understood some things, such as the awe this impossibly tall, gangly man of avian resemblance in him inspired, were meant to be.
They were, if not unchanged, an untouchable pair.
Law cleared his throat, the reverberation causing his smile to dissipate. His voice was strictly business. β Let's show you the Tang. β
He guided CorazΓ³n through the busy docks, avoiding shipments of unnamed crates and barrels of obvious alcohol being unloaded from the conventional ships of local merchants, or otherwise consigned unto pirate vessels alike, and the contrary as well, his feet well accustomed to the bobbing of the water below the old wooden ways. Here, they avoided a prancing quartet of children playing ball; the children of sailors perhaps. There, an escapee goat munching on some bastard's precious map.
The silence between the two heavied on him, urging Law to shatter it, but he was never a fan of speaking for the sake of having thoughts materialise, and he recalled CorazΓ³n as a man of silence, though of grand mute showmanship. The seagulls calling from above were never a good augury amongst seamen, so how come their loud chatter seemed to lift Law's spirits a tad? To a sheltered boy who knew no better, seagulls promised adventure on the high seas, not rue over dark waters. β The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared; merrily did we drop...β he murmured within earshot. A moment of tension could be afforded. They had plenty of time to talk, CorazΓ³n and him, so long as neither shot Coleridge's albatross down.
β Don't you forget it, β Law admonished as he set a freshly-produced cigarette square between his lips, β I am the captain. That means your allegiance too. Just like it means I'm responsible for you as well. β A cloud of smoke was released and, with it, a sense of wariness.
Some others may wear the title of captain lightly, moved by authority and selfish grandeur, or even childish dreaming, but not Trafalgar Law. He understood it as an honour, for it meant people deposited their dreams on his back; their very lives on his hands. He had to be capable. More than liable, Law had to prove time and again that he was deserving of having said honour bestowed upon his body.
Now, he had one more person to keep.
β Well, here we are. β He concluded as they reached the submarine's assigned place of mooring. You could say it was unorthodox for pirates to follow docking etiquette, but no one had appeared to collect their fare yet. Good luck finding a fellow willing to tax the Surgeon of Death. β The Polar Tang. How do you like it? β
β She was much different at first. β Law interrupted before CorazΓ³n could begin a response, perhaps prompted by a need to show off his accomplishments. True enough he did not appreciate unnecessary chatter, but seldom do we get to do just as we would like and not as we ought to. β Just a nondescript submarine we coloured yellow and emblazoned with our jolly roger. But we worked on her as time went by and restorations both minor and major were needed. We developed skill. Personally, I think she's fucking glorious. β
Law ventured a look in Cora's direction again, his eyes big and round like a boy's and his mouth hard and busy like a man's. He patted his newest comrade in the arm.
β Welcome home, CorazΓ³n. β
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