Archive of Our Own ^beta

Law was leaning against the wall of the ballroom, silently nursing a single glass of wine and watching the people around him. There was a band playing a complicated classical piece, but no one was dancing, or even listening. The guests floated around in small groups, talking to each other. They were an eclectic mix of the rich and famous, nobles, high-ranking marines and a few celestial dragons. And seven warlords, which was why Law was in attendance.

He would have liked to skip this farce of a celebration, as it was just an opportunity for the World Government to show off their wealth and connections, but Law had only been a Warlord for a few weeks. He couldn’t afford to alienate his new “friends” quite yet.

So there he was, dressed up in a garment expensive enough to feed a village, despite the large cutouts leaving little of his physique to the imagination. He would have made something more to his taste if he had had time, but he had only been informed of the gala after his inauguration.  In the end, he had just gone to the designer they recommended to him.

And, looking around the room, it could have been so much worse. At least his outfit still allowed him to move normally.

He saw the moment Doflamingo noticed him, and started walking towards him. Law had certainly noticed him immediately, wearing a pink monstrosity that was even larger than his usual feather coat, flowing out far enough to rival the ladies' full gowns. It was the loudest outfit in the room, and should have looked ridiculous. It did look ridiculous, but somehow Doflamingo also made it look menacing. Law hated him a little bit more just for that.

“Look who it is!” Doflamingo grinned as he approached. “I was wondering if you’d show up. Congratulations on your new position as Warlord, Law.”

“Doflamingo,” Law nodded in greeting, trying to keep his voice neutral. He had known running into the bastard was a possibility from the moment he accepted the position as a Warlord, but he wasn’t about to start a fight here. Not yet. “What are you wearing?”

“You like it?” Doflamingo chuckled, spinning in a circle and making the edges of the coat brush against Law. He shivered in disgust. “I have my own designer. Being King has its perks.”

“I imagine it does,” Law said, taking a sip of his drink.

“This Gala is about making an impression,” Doflamingo said, eyes wandering over Law’s outfit. “You’ll learn in time.” Law gritted his teeth, as Doflamingo continued with a grin: “Then again, I saw you at a distance at the Summit War. This is a vast improvement.”

Law didn’t want his insults, even less his compliments. 

Doflamingo tilted his head to the side. “I can’t help but notice the heart design on the sheer fabric,” he said, and Law’s grip on his glass tightened. “I wonder…”

“YOU!”

An angry shriek rang through the ballroom, and Law looked up to see the Amazonian Empress, Boa Hancock storming towards them, her high heels clacking loudly on the marble floor.

Law didn’t have to wonder long why she was upset. She was wearing a black dress with embroidered hearts around some very revealing cutouts, the exact same style and fabric as Law’s. The only difference was that Law’s outfit had trousers rather than a skirt.

Law stared at her in disbelief. He really should have known better than to trust the government with anything, even something as seemingly minor as recommending a boutique for the gala.

I’m going to kill that designer.

“How dare you! Go change, now! ” Hancock demanded angrily, while Doflamingo looked like his birthday had come early.

“Oh, this is too funny,” Law heard him say, and forced himself to ignore him.

“Don’t give me orders,” he told Hancock. He had nothing against her, and they had established something of a rapport during his stay at Amazon Lily while taking care of Straw Hat, but he wasn’t about to let her boss him around.

Then again, this would be a convenient excuse to leave the party early. Hancock stared down at him, her heels adding just enough of a height difference for her to pull it off. Law met her gaze evenly. Perhaps if he could make it sound like he was doing her a favour by leaving, he could leave with his dignity and reputation intact, and not have to deal with Doflamingo’s company any longer.

He opened his mouth do so, but was interrupted before he could even start:

“Now, now. There’s an easy solution for this,” Doflamingo said, his grin too wide for his face. “Clearly the one who is wearing it better should stay.”

He did not just fucking say that! Now it was a challenge , and Law couldn’t back out.

“See? You should leave,” Hancock told him smugly.

“I think you misheard him,” Law responded. “‘ The one wearing it better should stay ’, he said. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

“Are you trying to insinuate you’re more beautiful than I?” Hancock scoffed, like the idea was ridiculous. Maybe it was, but Law wasn’t about to admit defeat just yet!

“In this outfit? Certainly,” Law said cooly, watching a vein pop on her forehead.

“There’s not a single person here who would agree with that delusion!”

“Wanna bet?” Law upped the challenge.

Hancock nodded. “Whoever gets more votes in an hour wins,” she said. “Starting now!”

“You’re on.” 

Hancock turned on her heel and stalked away, presumably to gather votes, and Law turned the other way to do the same.

Doflamingo was still laughing. “For the record, you have my vote, Law.”

Law grit his teeth. “Keep it. I don’t need it.” 

He emptied the rest of his glass and walked away to gather support for what was without a doubt the stupidest challenge he’d ever been a part of. But stupid or not, it was a challenge against another pirate, another warlord , and he wasn’t going to back down without a fight. 

***

The score was annoyingly even. 

Law was a little surprised by how many people took his side, though he suspected they were intimidated by him rather than actually agreeing that he looked better than Boa Hancock, commonly referred to as “the most beautiful woman in the world”.  

The outfit did look good on him, he would give the designer that much, but it definitely hugged Hancock’s curves in a way it didn’t do for him, mostly because he didn’t have any. Still, clearly a few of the guests appreciated what they saw. Mihawk gave Law his vote, and he definitely wasn’t intimidated in the slightest. Buggy on the other hand was clearly scared shitless, and Law was 90% sure he was voting for both of them.

When the hour was up, Hancock met up with him again, wearing a superior expression.

“26 votes,” she announced. “Admit defeat.”

Law made a face. He had 25, not counting Doflamingo. And Doflamingo had clearly been keeping track, because he gave Law a big grin and a nod, raising his drink in Law’s direction. Law hated losing. If he added Doflamingo’s vote, he could make the score even. It wasn’t winning exactly, but he wouldn’t lose against Hancock.

However, if he added the vote, he would be losing against Doflamingo.

“25,” Law sighed. “Congratulations.”

She raised her eyebrows, looking surprised. She had expected an easy victory, he supposed. Rightly so.

Law glanced at Doflamingo. His expression was stiff and unreadable. He had taken the rejection for what it was, and Law wondered if he had let too much of his mask slip, too early. He couldn’t bring himself to care. The last thing he wanted was to be indebted to Doflamingo, even for something as ridiculous as this.  

Hancock was still looking at him.

“I’m bored of this party,” she announced. “As punishment for challenging me and losing, you’re buying me a drink. Come with me!”

She turned on her heel, expecting him to follow. Law grit his teeth. He hated following orders, but she was giving him an excuse to leave without having to talk to anyone else at the party, and he was going to take it.

They left the party together, ignoring the photographers snapping pictures and undoubtedly preparing to write scandalous tabloid pieces about them tomorrow. Law didn’t care, and Hancock didn’t react to it either, not even slowing her step as she barged through the line of photographers, making them scurry out of her way. Except one, who she ended up stepping on. Law suspected it was on purpose on his part.

They ended up at a bar some ways away from the gala. The bartender gave Hancock a smile as she entered, but the other patrons very quickly moved away from the counter, not wanting to risk pissing off two warlords.  

“The same as usual,” Hancock said, then gestured towards Law. “He’s paying.”

The bartender raised her eyebrows, but didn’t comment as Law paid for her drink and a whiskey for himself. The alcohol was far worse quality than at the gala, but tasted so much better without the company. He finally let himself relax a bit.

“I needed that,” he said, and Hancock huffed a laugh.

“It’s why I come here every year after that torture,” she said. “I figured I owed you a drink, after what you did for my future husband.”

There was a sound like a sharp intake of breath going through the bar at that comment. Law ignored it. “A drink I paid for,” he pointed out. 

“People die to have a drink with me. Be grateful,” she said, but it didn’t sound like she actually meant it.

“Very well. I’m grateful,” Law said. Not for the drink, and Law had a feeling she understood that. He downed the rest of his whiskey, and got up from his seat. “Until next time, then.”

“Not so fast,” Hancock said. “You still haven’t admitted I look better than you in this outfit.”

Law groaned. “Seriously? You won the bet.”

“Say it,” she demanded.

Law thought about it. Then smiled. 

“I still look better than you,” he said, casting a quick room and shambling himself out of the bar. Her indignant shout could be heard out on the street where he reappeared. He chuckled to himself as he turned around to head back to his ship.

All in all, it could have been a worse evening.