Chapter Text
The bolt of light pierced the meat of his chest, just next to his shoulder, and Dragon hit the ground. He dropped the babies, and his mind flooded with panic. He was in so much pain he couldn't even move.
The woman who had shot him leisurely made her way over. One of the babies was closer to her than the other, and she tapped it on the side with the toe of her shoe.
"Who would have thought a prick like Garling could have a kid…" she laughed, as the baby started crying. "That's almost as strange as our intriguing little kidnapper."
The woman wasn't dressed like a normal Celestial Dragon, but Dragon knew that was what she was. Fear, already bright in his mind, wrapped itself around his lungs.
She still hadn't picked up the kid, instead making a face at it like it was something mildly gross that she had to clean up. She nudged it with her shoe again.
Wait! Those babies… They're my only chance to atone for helping set up this twisted murder game!
The baby kept crying.
The Celestial Dragon turned her attention to Dragon again. She drew a sword and placed the point so that it just barely rested over Dragon's back.
"It was nice knowing you, young man!" she said, in a sing-song, taunting tone.
Dragon grit his teeth.
I guess that's that… Given all the dead, this is probably what I deserve…
"COMING THROUGH!" a voice hollered, an instant before a flying slash cut through all the nearby trees and also the Celestial Dragon who had been about to kill him.
The slash had dazed her, at the very least. With a fresh surge of adrenaline from nearly dying, he lunged out and grabbed the baby off the ground before quickly scrambling to the roots of the nearest tree, hoping desperately not to be spotted by whatever this fresh threat was.
It was pirates. They were huge. They were arguing about something, but Dragon couldn't really make it out over the ringing in his ears, and then two more pirates showed up and the arguing escalated to fighting.
I could probably slip away now, but I lost the other baby! he thought. He really wouldn't get a better chance… He clutched the baby he did have and prepared to move, scanning across the ground to locate obstacles or potential cover.
Ah. Or the other baby, laying dazed a little ways in front of him. It looked like he might have bumped his head, which had kept him from crying; hopefully that healed up fine.
He scooped up the other twin and got prepared to run.
Then there was a lot of shouting from the pirates and a voice that Dragon recognized. He turned back to look at the pirates, and…
Dad!?
Dragon didn't have time to worry or wonder about his dad's presence, because the huge woman with pink hair released a giant fire attack.
The Celestial Dragon disappeared, presumably fleeing because that attack looked like it would leave nothing living in its wake.
Dragon had to believe in his father's ability to survive. He fought tough pirates with crazy abilities all the time. He would be fine. Dragon had to take the opportunity to run.
All Dragon could do was run. Both babies were crying, but there was so much chaos on the island that it just blended in. Dragon held them tight to his chest and ducked his head over them.
"Don't worry… I won't let you die!" he promised.
"What's going on over there? I hear screaming!" Dragon realized, looking over his shoulder back toward the center of the island. He couldn't see anything from where he was.
He probably couldn't do anything to help even if he could see what was going on.
He had to save the babies.
Looking forward again, he finally spotted water through the trees. Water, and…
There! A marine ship through the trees! They'll be able to protect the children!
Except. Then the strap of his rifle went tight across his chest. He was swept off his feet—it had to be some kind of Devil Fruit power, that he was being lifted and dragged backwards by his rifle of all things. Something related to metal, probably, as treasure and scrap joined Dragon in the air as he was pulled toward whoever was causing this.
Then, suddenly, the power stopped and he fell. Ouch.
"This is all insane…" Dragon muttered to himself. The Celestial Dragons were bad enough, but with all the pirates in the mix, things just got more unpredictable. "I need to at least save the babies."
He looked down and found that he was holding one baby.
"Huh? WHAT!?" Dragon exclaimed. "Where did he go!?"
He hadn't felt the baby fall! He hadn't even fallen that far! The other baby was right here and fine! What the hell had just happened!?
For a moment, Dragon couldn't breathe. He clutched the remaining baby to his chest and lashed out, kicking his heel into the dirt uselessly.
"Dammit! I'm sorry! I couldn't save your brother!" he sobbed, running his hand through the soft red hair of the infant in his arms. "Where did he go?"
The baby hadn't stopped crying the whole time.
This… This was not okay. From the moment they had set foot on God Valley for a "training exercise", nothing had been okay.
Dragon took a deep breath.
He stood with new resolve.
First, he checked the neckline of the baby's onesie, where his name was embroidered. The twin he had managed not to lose was Shamrock.
"I'm sorry, Shanks," Dragon whispered.
He ripped a piece of his cloak off and fashioned it into a sling, which he placed Shamrock into. Then he bent down and retrieved his rifle.
This was not okay.
Problem: civilian survivors of the Native Hunt had no way off the island.
Solution: commandeer that marine ship and use it to transport survivors off the island.
Dragon made sure his gun was loaded, then started running.
He managed to do it. He was now a traitor to the Marines, but he had gotten his ship-full of survivors away from God Valley.
Unfortunately, none of them wanted or were able to take in baby Shamrock.
In the days since, Dragon had stolen a fishing boat with a small cabin, and had been hiding from the Marines by being on the move. He had kept Shamrock in the makeshift sling across his chest, unable to find anything better. He had been able to buy basic supplies for the baby in the town he had left the God Valley survivors in, but he felt wildly out of his depth.
Dragon was seventeen years old and there wasn't enough room in the cabin of this fishing boat for a crib, so he had improvised by lashing a basket to the hooks usually used to hold a hammock and had padded it with towels and blankets. Shamrock didn't seem bothered, so Dragon had to be doing something right. He had managed to buy plenty of formula and had even gotten a lesson on how to prepare it from one of the survivors. She had been a mother of three, and had no idea where her children were or if they were still alive.
Diapers were definitely the worst part of looking after an infant.
Weirdly, even though Dragon had been reading the news every day, he hadn't found a wanted poster with his face on it. Maybe his former superior officer had lied and declared him dead. Maybe it was for the same reason that there didn't seem to be much other news about what had happened in God Valley being reported.
Pretty much the only thing that had made it to print was that his dad had defeated Rocks, Captain of the Rocks Pirates.
It was being covered up.
Someone out there had decided to pretend that the insanity that had rampaged through God Valley had never happened, and they were forcing the world to pretend along with them.
It was evil.
Shamrock started crying. Dragon put down the newspaper and went to check on him.
Shamrock huffed as his dad adjusted his hood again. He reached up and batted his hands away.
"Dad, it's fine! Even if the hood falls back, I'm wearing a mask," he pointed out. His dad sighed, settling both hands on Shamrock's shoulders.
"I know. Permit me some worry, okay?"
"I'm thirteen and you've been doing this stuff since I was ten," Shamrock said, crossing his arms. "I know the drill."
"As my son, you're my biggest weakness," his dad said, as he often did. "Be careful out there."
Shamrock nodded, and his dad nodded back before leaving the tent. Shamrock looked into the mirror, making sure his mask was covering everything properly.
The Freedom Fighters were a group led by his dad who helped organize and man protests against unjust governments. They could use the pressure of an angry population against a ruler and get things to change within countries that were suffering. It was awesome.
Shamrock's role within the Freedom Fighters was acting as something of a secretary for his dad, taking notes, keeping track of their schedule, that sort of thing. But because they went up against the government, his dad was always scared that someone would discover the link between them and target Shamrock to try and make his dad give up on his goals. Already, the local armies of the countries they led protests in sometimes shot at them.
It was still better than living on the same small boat for years, drifting aimlessly in an attempt to avoid the Marines while his dad occasionally disappeared to gather supplies, only ever landing on deserted islands and spending the whole time on combat training. Shamrock had seen more of the world in these past three years than he had in the ten years before that.
Nobody knew that Shamrock and Dragon were father and son, not even Iva-chan, who had been the person to help dad found the Freedom Fighters and was their closest friend. As far as everyone else knew, Shamrock was just a war orphan (sort of true) who had an aversion to showing their face or sharing their name. He was hardly the only one with harmless quirks.
The mask he wore covered his whole face, with mesh inserts over the eyes so that he could see out of it but nobody could see his eyes. It was black. His cloak was green, matching his father's, and he kept his distinctive red hair clipped short and under the hood.
When anyone else was around, Shamrock kept quiet, only speaking to whisper in Dragon's ear. It earned him the nickname "Dragon's Little Shadow" amongst the other Freedom Fighters, which Shamrock was often quietly pleased about.
His hood fell down sometimes, but red hair wasn't completely damning, even though those instances sent his dad into bouts of paranoia that gave him nightmares for days. Shamrock had gotten pretty good at keeping the hood up, even while running or on windy days.
He knew where he had come from. Dragon had never kept it a secret from Shamrock. At least the red hair wasn't from the Figarland side of his family—with any luck, the woman who was his mother would have faded from his biological father's memory, and they were both worried for no reason.
Deeming his appearance acceptable, Shamrock slung his bag over his shoulder and followed his dad out of the tent.
When Shamrock was fifteen, the man called the King of the Pirates, Gold Roger, was executed.
Dragon sporadically kept in-touch with his father, usually through letters which never acknowledged what anyone was actually doing, but reassured each other that the other was alive. Shamrock had never met his grandfather.
The Hero of the Marines called them on Dragon's personal Transponder Snail, which he had never done before. Dragon had given him the number years ago for emergencies.
His dad went pale in the face and shooed everyone else out of the room. Concerned, Shamrock placed a hand on his dad's back as he answered the Snail.
"Don't worry, brat, I'm using a White Encryption Snail," his grandfather said, the first words Shamrock had ever heard in his voice.
"What happened?" his dad asked.
The Snail transmitted a low sigh. "I'm sure by now you've seen Roger's execution in the papers," Garp said.
"They said you caught him. Did he tell you something I need to know?"
"No, he didn't tell me anything like that. But I didn't defeat him. He turned himself in," Garp revealed.
"What? Why?"
"He was sick and dying anyway, so he struck a deal. He would turn himself in, and in return, the Marines leave his old crew alone."
"And they agreed to that?"
"Yeah, but they're already trying to find work-arounds and loopholes. There were rumors of him spending time peacefully in the South Blue, so now they're conducting hunts for a secret wife and kid, or something. Just… be careful."
"That's despicable," Dragon said.
"I know."
"Even if Roger had a secret wife and child, they would be innocent of his crimes!"
"I know, brat," Garp replied, voice low and solemn. "Anyway! I'm busy, so I have to hang up now. Take care of yourself!"
He hung up.
Dragon was frozen, holding the receiver up to his mouth and staring down at the Transponder Snail like it would magically reconnect the call.
"Dad?" Shamrock asked. "Are you okay?"
His dad turned to look at him, finally placing the receiver back on the Snail's shell. He reached up with one hand and gently lifted Shamrock's mask to the top of his head, then cradled his exposed face.
Finally, he spoke. "Shamrock, you know that your blood has no bearing on who you are, right?"
"Of course," Shamrock replied. It was far from the first time his dad had told him that.
Gently, his dad folded him into a hug. Shamrock clutched him back, feeling oddly like he had lost something.
Dragon and Shamrock alone went to pay their respects to Ohara.
There, they met a giant covered in bandages, and his crew, who were all working to save the writings of the Oharan scholars. For a while, they simply watched the giants work.
His dad had known Professor Clover, as they had run into him once or twice as their journeys across the seas crossed. Shamrock hadn't known the man as well, since most of what he talked about had flown straight over Shamrock's head, but he had respected him and his efforts to preserve history.
That man was dead now. All that was left were books.
Shamrock's Observation Haki registered a new person landing on the island, and his head turned in sync with his dad's as they both turned toward the Voice.
"Stay here, Shamrock," his dad ordered, standing up. He left, definitely checking out whoever it was that had just arrived, and Shamrock turned his attention back to the lake.
He had never seen so many giants in one place before. It was easy to feel insignificant, sitting in ash and ruin and watching people staggeringly larger than you go about their business.
It was easy to feel angry.
Why should Shamrock be insignificant? Why did the World Government insist on perpetuating atrocity after atrocity, killing anyone so much as tangentially connected to anything they feared just to pretend they stood unthreatened and unshakeable?
Why could the World Government order an island burned and its citizens killed for the crime of studying the wrong thing?
Why could the World Government order countless women and babies killed in Baterilla for the crime of maybe being Gold Roger's family?
Why could Figarland Garling shoot his mother in the street like a rabid dog for the crime of not being a Celestial Dragon?
He clenched his fists, shaking from the force of it.
Why should his dad be considered a criminal for helping people?
Why should the Celestial Dragons be allowed to have slaves?
Why should Shamrock have to live his life as a secret, have to live his life in fear of his biological father finding him?
Where in the world was the Justice in any of that!?
After a while, his dad came back. Shamrock stood up when he saw him coming, and his dad wrapped him in a hug.
Shamrock didn't say anything. He just buried his face into his dad's chest the best he could without removing his mask.
"We just have one more place to stop," his dad said. Shamrock nodded and pulled back.
"Where are we going?"
His dad regarded him with serious eyes.
"I'll tell you when we get there."
"Ooh, mysterious," Shamrock joked, though it fell flat. "Fine, keep your secrets."
They crossed the Red Line into the East Blue. After weeks of sailing, they finally approached a small island with a kingdom on one side and a ring of mountains dominating the other side.
"This is Dawn Island," his dad revealed, joining Shamrock at the bow railing. He pointed at each thing as he identified it. "The kingdom here is called Goa. That mountain is Mount Colubo, and at its base, across from the main kingdom, is Foosha Village."
Shamrock nodded, committing the names to memory.
His dad stared out at the island, something sad lingering around his eyes.
"Why are we here?" Shamrock asked.
"Foosha Village was my father's hometown," his dad said. Shamrock's eyes widened. "I was born here, though I was raised in Marineford. When dad had leave, sometimes we would come and visit. Goa Kingdom, the main part, is like the world in miniature… but Foosha is safe."
"The world in miniature?"
"The city is segregated by class, with the nobles living in a walled-off area called High Town, and the poorest people living in the field of trash outside the city known as Gray Terminal. Because of their birth, the nobles are allowed to get away with practically anything, while the other citizens struggle to survive…" His dad's voice hardened. "I want you to avoid that place, Shamrock."
Shamrock nodded.
The ship inched closer to Foosha.
"There's a Sea King in Foosha's bay which deters most pirates, fishermen, and merchants, but the townspeople look after each other. I've already warned our navigator," his dad said. "While you are here, Shamrock, please do not provoke it. While your Armament is impressive for your age, your Conqueror's still needs a lot of training."
"How long are we going to stay here that you think I'm going to get bored enough to try my luck against a Sea King?"
His dad didn't answer.
The boat docked in Foosha's port with no issues, and his dad gave him a brief tour of the town, circling back and ending at a bar near the port called Party's Bar. Dragon pushed through the bat-wing doors, and the woman behind the counter lit up at the sight of him.
"Why, if it isn't Dragon-chan! I never expected to see you here again!" she crowed.
Shamrock's eyes flew wide. Somehow, he hadn't expected for his dad to be recognized, even though he said he used to visit this place. Stupid! He was seventeen, he should know by now to plan for every eventuality! And here he was, standing in front of someone who recognized his father, and he wasn't wearing his mask or cloak!
"Party," Dragon greeted the woman. She was around the same age as him, with dark green hair and round eyes. "I see you opened your bar."
"I did! I got old Yado-san to sell me the inn building, and we finished renovations two years ago. Nobody was using the inn anyway, and now look!" Party said, throwing her arms out to gesture at the space around them. "Booming business every night!"
"Do you have a spare bedroom?" Dragon asked.
"Are we staying overnight?" Shamrock exclaimed, surprised. He thought his dad would want to get back to their headquarters in Baltigo quickly.
"Oh my goodness, I've been terribly rude!" Party exclaimed. "I'm so sorry, young man. My name is Party, I'm an old friend of Dragon-chan's. Who are you?"
Shamrock frowned and looked to his dad for his cue. What was he supposed to tell this woman?
His dad gave a small nod, so Shamrock looked at Party and said, "I'm Shamrock. Nice to meet you."
"He's my son," his dad volunteered.
Shamrock's eyes blew so wide they stung. He stared at his father.
"Oh, how sweet!" Party said, smiling. "Monkey D. Shamrock, am I the first person in town your father has introduced you to?"
"Uh… Yeah. Yes."
"Well, I'm honored!" she declared. "If you need a room for a while, I kept the upstairs inn rooms, and they're pretty much always empty."
"I'm not staying," his dad said. "Shamrock will need a room for the indefinite future."
"What!?" Shamrock exclaimed, whirling to face his dad completely. "You're leaving me here?"
"Oh, shoot," Party said quietly.
Dragon's face was set. That was the face he made when he had made a decision and was determined to see it through.
"I'm changing the Freedom Fighters into something more proactive. A true military force, fighting against the World Government. I can't risk you like that, Shamrock."
"That's not for you to decide! I'm old enough to fight! I want to fight, I've wanted to do more for ages! And I'm seventeen now! You joined the Marines at seventeen, so surely that's old enough for me to fight them, right?"
"No. You're seventeen, Shamrock, and your whole life I've just dragged you along, chasing my dream. You deserve to have peace, to have time to develop a dream of your own. The jungle on the mountain makes for a good training ground, and the people of Foosha will protect you."
"Dad, I want to fight! It's my dream too! You can't just—just—just sideline me because you don't like the idea that I might get hurt fighting for freedom!"
"You don't know what you're asking," his dad replied. It just shot Shamrock's anger through the roof.
"Yes, I do! People shooting at us is nothing new, and I've been by your side regardless since I was ten! I know what I'm doing! If you're going to start a revolutionary army in place of the Freedom Fighters, then I want to be a part of it!"
"A child is their parent's greatest weakness," his dad said.
"You've told me that my whole life!"
"Shamrock. If someone kills you, I won't be able to follow through with this."
Ice settled at the base of Shamrock's throat.
He was good at strategy.
Shamrock didn't care if he died, not if he did it while fighting to free the world from the tyranny of the World Government. But the Freedom Fighters depended on his dad to keep functioning. He was their leader, but beyond that, he was their rallying point.
If Shamrock died and Dragon lost his will to fight, it would stop the whole revolution before it could even come to pass.
"What will Iva-chan think?" he asked, a last ditch attempt to get his dad to change his mind, even though the fire had already gone out of his argument.
"I'll come up with something to tell them," his dad answered. He reached out and ran his hand through Shamrock's hair, then pulled him into a tight hug. "I'm sorry, my son."
"I'll get so strong that you don't have to worry about me, okay? And when I'm that strong, I'll come stand at your side, and we can tear down Mary Geoise together," Shamrock promised.
He didn't cry. He didn't.
They broke from the hug and Shamrock wiped quickly at his face before turning to face Party. "I don't have any money to pay for a room," he confessed.
"Well, how about you help me around the bar, and we'll call it even?" Party suggested.
"I'm amenable to that deal. Thank you for your hospitality," Shamrock answered.
She smiled sadly at him. "Don't worry about it, kid. Dragon? Will you be in touch?"
"I'll send letters when I can," his dad promised. He slung his bag off of his back, and handed it to Shamrock.
"You packed for me," Shamrock realized.
"I love you. I'll miss you."
"I love you too. I'll miss you so much," Shamrock replied. He started choking up again. "I've never lived without you before."
His dad smiled a little, reaching out to ruffle Shamrock's hair one last time.
"You'll get used to it," he said, with tears in his eyes.
Then Dragon turned and left.
"Let's go upstairs and get you set up, huh?" Party suggested softly. Shamrock nodded, and followed her deeper into the building.