Chapter Text
Once upon a time, a Wolf descended from the heavens.
Carried by gentle moonbeams to the land her ancestors once ruled, she desired to observe the grandness of its landscape, the richness of its native bounty. And so, surrounded by the glow of her pure white pelt, the Celestial Wolf wandered for a time, beneath the gentle drape of willow trees and along the softly singing river. Lesser creatures bowed before her, tamed at once by the sight of her beauty, her aura of greatness, the undeniable attributes of a god in wild form.
Her wandering came to a close, however, when the Wolf arrived within a moonlit meadow, and beheld a scene that plucked at the heartstrings of her generous spirit.
Small, gentle hands eased open a hunter’s snare, freeing from it the paw of a young canine, a pup who whined with gratitude and promptly began to frolic with joy. Laughing, its rescuer stood: a young boy of soft but noble features, in fine tailored clothing, with a circlet upon his brow. A Princeling, undoubtedly. So struck by his kindness to the pup, and empowered by the moon’s blessings, the Wolf approached.
He noticed her presence at once, of course, and promptly knelt, as all of the lower world must in the presence of their gods. But the Wolf gave this Princeling a nudge, bidding him to stand, and then gently took his arm in her jaws to deliver a delicate, painless bite.
The pinpricks began to bleed. But, before the Princeling’s startled eyes, within moments his blood changed, from the ordinary red of mortal beings, to the golden glowing ichor of the gods.
With the moon as her witness, the Celestial Wolf declared him to be of truly noble spirit, and thus elevated into her household. The both of them were lifted away to the Holy Land at the night’s end, the Princeling welcomed by his new family members. For every full moon after, he too transformed into the shape of a heavenly wolf, joining his patron in her wanderings, and in time, he even married one of her very own daughters, giving rise to a lineage of continued greatness.
And they lived, happily, ever after.
Or so the story would claim.
Once upon a time, there were two brothers.
Two Princes, as it happened; one elder, who enjoyed good humor and good parties, and one younger, who dreamed of adventures and seeing more of the world. They were neither of them directly in line for the Throne of their kingdom, and so could indulge in their preferences, as well as the odd escapade out from under the careful eyes of their minders.
One night, this meant sneaking into the palace kennels, where one of the royal wolfhounds had recently birthed a litter of puppies, who were small and fluffy and adorable, but off limits for playing even to a pair of Princes. Unwilling to accept this, the Elder coaxed his younger brother into coming along, as they pilfered one of the pups and snuck off into the nearby forest, so they could play to their heart’s content beneath the light of the moon.
Sadly for them, however, neither realized that light came from a full moon, or else their tragedies might have been averted.
The wolfhound pup delighted in this newfound freedom as much as the Princes, and frolicked with them both, running hither and yon beneath the willow trees and along the curving river. Until, that is, it ran on ahead, bounding across an empty meadow - or rather, not so empty. One paw landed directly in the circle of a hunter’s snare, and the pup began wailing when it tripped, unable to yank free.
Alarmed, the Younger Prince ran straight to the pup, and promptly began tugging at the snare. As soon as it loosened enough, the pup yanked its paw free, and limped away back in the direction they’d come, no longer enjoying the outing. The little Prince, however, remained where he was for a moment, still recovering from his fear upon hearing that awful, fearful wail.
A cry which soon became replaced with more ominous sounds.
Growling. Gnashing of teeth. Crunching of leaf litter.
Slowly, the Prince raised his head, and found himself locking gazes with a creature out of nightmare: a massive, ferocious wolf, with a pelt the color of bleached bone and blood red eyes. Drool dripped from its open jaws as it stared at the boy, and all around them the forest hung in deathly silence.
Then-
-the Wolf lunged.
Before he could flee, huge jaws clamped shut around the Prince’s arm, breaking skin, tearing muscle, snapping bone. He screamed, far more panicked and pained than the pup had been. The Wolf tossed its head, dragging him along the ground, inciting further screaming as if it enjoyed the sound and desired more.
At this point the Elder Prince arrived. Armed with only a tree branch seized from the ground, he charged directly at the Wolf with a war cry, and brought his makeshift weapon down upon the monster’s head as hard as he could manage. The blow did no true harm, but achieved its purpose: those terrible jaws opened, releasing his little brother, whom the Elder Prince yelled at to run.
And run the child did.
Back along the river, out of the forest, bawling and wailing with a terrified pup at his heels, waking up the entire palace as they reached it.
His older brother did not follow.
(The Elder Prince, in fact, was never seen again.)
The next day, a Knight of the Holy Land arrived, seeking the Little Prince. She claimed to have encountered the boy during the recent full moon, and had seen him so kindly free a pup from a hunter’s snare - greatly moved by this, she wished for the child to become her ward, elevated to a position within the Holy Land, and than in exchange great wealth and political prestige would be conveyed upon his royal family.
No one dared say aloud that this Celestial must have been the Wolf who bit and nearly maimed the Little Prince.
(Equally, no one dared ask what became of his brother.)
And yet, eager for the offered wealth and power, as well as desperate not to offend one of the rulers of the entire world, the Prince’s family accepted the exchange. The Knight took him away with her, added the child to her household, and from then on ignored his presence. With the next full moon, the Bite she delivered to his arm burned, triggering a transformation of his own into the shape of a heavenly wolf - and yet, this did little to improve the child’s position, as he promptly became the lowliest member of her family’s pack, pushed around even by those younger than himself, as they were used to their monthly wild shape and he was not.
In time, the former Prince adjusted to his position, and eventually was picked by one of the Knight’s daughters to wed and sire a few children of her own. It is said that he tried to teach his offspring to be kind, and gentle, and not attack others on nights of the full moon.
It is said that he failed.
When Outlook III hears confirmation of a World Noble staying in the royal palace, months ahead of the impending visit of an Observer from the government, he drops everything and runs for his private office.
“Double the agreed upon amount, if you can get him here before the next full moon,” Outlook is all but begging half an hour later, clutching the receiver of his snail phone with both hands. It is unbecoming of a noble to speak in such a way, particularly to one so low in station beneath them, but desperate times call for desperate measures. “Triple, if he’s found within the next week!”
“Not to worry, my good sir,” the pirate on the other end of the call chuckles, “We’ll get your son back to you safe and sound as soon as possible.”
“I warn you, Bluejam, if you can’t manage it before this Celestial leaves, we WILL return to the earlier price!” Getting Sabo restored to his proper place before the day all that unsightly trash is burned remains his ultimate priority, of course, but, but, the Honored Observer will only be staying in Goa Kingdom for a few days, well removed from the full moon.
This one, though - this one appeared under mysterious circumstances, with a selkie of all things in tow, and demanded lodging for an unspecified amount of time. Outlook has made discreet inquiries; so far as anyone within the palace can tell, this ‘Saint Figarland’ seems inclined to linger, waiting for someone or something else to arrive, and in that unknown there lies a chance.
He would not dare risk it with Stelly, the sweet, gentle boy. Stelly would likely either be outright ignored or else torn to pieces - but Sabo. Wild, hooligan Sabo, who runs through Edgetown and the Grey Terminal and the wild jungles all with impunity- if Outlook can arrange to put him in the path of this Saint on the night of the full moon, with just the right circumstances...
Well.
Then his runaway heir may finally prove worth something after all.
“AND STAY OUT!” Dadan hollers, swinging her club at the last pirate standing, which hits the guy so hard he literally goes flying through the air and then rolling down the side of the mountain. “Ugh! What the HELL did you brats do to piss these bastards off so bad?!”
“Nothing!” Ace protests, clawing his way out of the bushes where he got thrown. “Nothing new, anyway. Nothing that would make them come all the way up here!”
“Well something did,” Sabo can’t help but groan, letting himself sag against a tree. Sheesh, that was a hard fight - he’s honestly not sure they would have won if Dadan didn’t come barreling down the hill with a roar to jump in. After that one pirate tossed Ace aside and another three surrounded Sabo and the big guy picked up-
Wait.
“Luffy?!”
Ace and Dadan both stiffen at Sabo’s call, their heads whipping around as they look. In the following quiet, a single piece of wood snaps. And then- out of the shadows. Big. Better dressed than the rest of his men. Pistol in one hand.
Luffy, squirming, in the other.
“Just hold it right there,” Bluejam sneers, unwavering in the face of Sabo’s shout and Dadan’s growl and Ace’s snarl. “Quite a fight you beasts put up, I admit! Just goes to show I’m not missing out on anything by ignoring this filthy jungle. But hey, can’t go back to Goa without what I came for, so- you. Noble boy.”
Sabo’s blood turns to ice.
“Come along now,” the big pirate all but coos, voice disgustingly sweet. “Your daddy’s been looking for you. Keep quiet until we get to the Gates, and I’ll drop this one without hurting a hair on his- YEOWCH!”
“No!” Luffy spits, prying Bluejam’s bitten hand away from his face, “Sabo don’t!”
“You’re not taking either of my brothers!” Ace lunges, pipe raised high, while Dadan sweeps around and aims her club at Bluejam’s knees. The pirate reacts to the incoming threats, tries to take aim with his pistol- not at Ace or Dadan, but back at Luffy.
Sabo’s thrown pipe spins through the air and collides with his hand.
Bluejam yelps as the gun is whacked straight out of his grip. And he shrieks, when Ace’s weapon comes down directly on top of his head. Dadan’s blow triggers a pained bellow, at least one knee letting out an audible cracking sound as it snaps and he topples, but the fucker is smart or desperate enough not to let go, still clinging to Luffy even as his body rolls down the slope-
-until he jerks to a stop, underneath a tall, polished boot.
“Hm.”
“What the hell,” Ace demands, shirt seized by Dadan to keep him from running headlong to Luffy. “Who the fuck is this guy, a tourist?”
“No,” Sabo breathes. His brother can tell the clothes are fancy, but there's more to it than that- MUCH more. Sabo can see the subtle embroidery and stitched-in gems, a hand resting far too casually atop his sword hilt. He can see wealth and strength and power, and if anything, the ice in his veins drops to something even colder.
“H-hey,” Bluejam wheezes, not bothering to try and get up, surely with no idea of who he’s addressing. “Buddy- help a guy out, will ya? That little- top hat bastard, he’s a noble brat- big payday in it for me and anyone who helps get him back to Goa before that Celestial weirdo leaves!” The strangled noise that claws out of Sabo’s throat is half hysterical, half horrified. Even worse, it draws the attention of the tall, red-haired man standing over Luffy and Bluejam - the guy who is almost certainly the exact ‘Celestial weirdo’ in question.
(Fuck, what is a World Noble even DOING in Goa?!)
There’s no warning. That golden sword is suddenly free of its sheath, and in the blink of an eye Bluejam’s head and body are no longer connected.
Dadan sucks in a sharp breath.
The fat hand holding down Luffy falls away; Sabo half expects the seven year old to sit up and thank this guy for saving him, which is going to make things even worse, Luffy wouldn’t know how to be deferential to the next best thing to a god if it smacked him over the head-
But no.
That’s not what happens.
It turns out to be SO much worse than Sabo’s grimmest prediction.
Because Luffy scrambles to stand up, glares at the Celestial, and screeches at the top of his tiny lungs, “THAT’S NOT YOURS!”
Ace grunts, “Huh?” And then hollers “Hey!” as Luffy proceeds to jump onto the guy, grimy little fingers uncaring of the tiny jewels worth as much as all the food in Edgetown twice over. Just like his namesake, he darts upward as if the startled Celestial is a tree, and grabs for the one article of clothing Sabo didn’t clock, the sleek shimmery half-layer laid over his pure white cloak.
Just as Luffy’s fingers stretch for it, though, he’s grabbed again, scruffed by a hand around the back of his neck. Doesn’t stop him from struggling, or howling like a windstorm. “You can’t have that, give it BACK!”
“It’s mine now,” the Celestial tells him, sounding way too relaxed for somebody holding a screaming jungle child. “As is the selkie it belongs to.”
Sabo gasps.
Before he can begin to wrap his head around these different pieces and figure out how they fit together, before he can do anything at all, Dadan abruptly roars and charges.
Again.
They hardly see the guy move.
Dadan’s only saving grace is that he’s already replaced his sword in its sheath, and doesn’t bother to draw the blade again. Instead, he casually backhands her, the woman vanishing from sight in a split second as the sound of dozens of trees crashing and falling rumbles through the jungle.
Three voices scream in unison.
“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at the utter lack of manners in so wild a setting,” the Celestial drawls, still calm, still casual. Sabo can see it, the moment Ace’s brain switches into high gear, and only leaping for all he’s worth lets Sabo tackle his brother before he too can be so easily swatted down.
“Please,” he shouts, shoving at Ace, getting a hand over the other boy’s mouth to muffle his spewing swears, “Please, let our brother go, he doesn’t know any better! None of them do! Please, Honored Saint!”
“Stop it, Sabo!” Luffy is still writhing, still flailing, it’s just as well he’s too furious to even think about using his Gum-Gum powers to kick this guy in the face. “I do know! I do! That’s Makino’s pelt!!”
The Celestial hums, eyes locked onto Sabo even as his head turns towards Luffy, “I did not think to ask for a description, but I suppose that answers the question which of you is the boy I came here for. That said-” Colors blur. Fingers catch Sabo’s coat, hoisting him off of Ace and away from the ground as he yelps. And just like that, he too is held up to eye level with the World Noble. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to help myself to an unexpected bonus.”
There’s no room for swearing, for clever ideas, no room at all inside his head other than mind-numbing terror.
“HEY!”
Oh no
“PUT DOWN MY BROTHERS!”
Ace
There’s a tangible wave of Something that hits and fills the air, making Sabo’s vision go fuzzy for a long moment. He swears the Celestial even sways. More than that, though, the guy looks surprised.
And then.
Thoughtful.
It’s not enough to have stolen her pelt, stolen her. Not enough to leave behind all of her own clothes, with only the cloak Shanks left behind as shelter between Makino’s body and dozens of curious or leering looks.
No- he has to go a step further. To commission her a set of garments out of soft, gleaming silk, patterned like sealskin. And just to add to her misery, the seamstresses were given descriptions of what her pelt was shaped like, when Makino first ran towards the wolf she mistook for Shanks, and when she fled him at dawn.
They’re just finishing the first one, upper edge following the line of her collarbone and leaving her shoulders bare, the hem highest where it brushes against her thighs in the front and dropping into a longer train around her heels, when the hallway outside begins to echo with louder, furious caterwauling.
Makino’s heart starts to pound.
But she can’t move, she can’t be anything except well-behaved until the oldest of the ladies around her nervously says “I believe that’s enough for now,” right as the door of the opulent suite crashes open.
Shamrock - only Shamrock, she will never call him ‘Saint’ - all but stomps to the nearest elegant settee, still with her pelt hanging from his shoulders, but his long white cape removed, fashioned into a crude sack, the source of the three-fold shouting and an awful lot of movement.
Smart enough to recognize trouble, the ladies gather their sewing kits and flee.
Makino remains where she is for a moment longer, catches Shamrock’s first actual look at her (and the sudden spark in his gaze) but refuses to let herself shudder in the face of it. Then his hands release the gathered corners of his cloak, and out spill all three of her boys.
They’re hurt.
Covered in bumps and cuts and bruises, tumbling onto the cushions and immediately trying to orient themselves for round two. A ragged breath tears out of Makino’s throat, as she quickly steps down off the stool where she’s held herself for hours and darts over before any of them can leap at their captor. “Luffy, Ace, Sabo-”
“MAKINO!”
One little body crashes into her, as expected. Followed by a second, and more surprisingly a third. Voice catching, she readjusts her arms to wrap around all three of them, clutching her boys just as tightly as they are clinging to her. But the moment doesn’t last. Shamrock shifts, standing beside them, and a whisper of intent from her pelt has Makino glancing up towards his face before a command can be given. He looks- pleased. And yet also expectant, as if-
She cannot thank him. Not for this. Makino lowers her eyes again just as quickly, obeying the order to not glare at him as she stiffly demands, “Why are they hurt.”
It must take Shamrock by surprise. Silence lingers for a few seconds before he replies, bemused, “They were engaged in battle before my arrival.”
“Stupid Bluejam,” Luffy mutters, little head tucked under her chin.
Makino wants to ask. Wants to know what happened, where were they, does Dadan or anyone else know they’ve been taken- but all the words seize up and halt as Shamrock’s broad hand settles on top her head, stroking her hair, as if he approves of how furious she is about this.
Ace growls. Snaps his teeth. Tries to jump, probably with the intent to bite Shamrock’s hand off at the wrist, but her arm is around him and that’s enough to hold the furious boy in place.
Shamrock snorts, still audibly amused. “You could have told me there would be three children on that hill, pet. I’d have made more appropriate plans for transporting all of them back here.”
I didn’t want you going after any of them, she wants to scream, but fear chokes it down in a single, wretched sob, which gets the boys to somehow squeeze in even closer, Ace and Sabo’s hands crossing over her back with desperate grips.
“She’s not a pet,” Luffy yells. “Don’t call her that!”
“You are all pets, and you’ll be addressed as I like. Although,” Shamrock’s hand moves, and Makino wants to bite him again herself as the tips of his fingers oh so barely brush against Sabo’s exposed hair, his hat laying crumpled on the settee. “This one, I suppose, could be elevated in position.”
Only because of how closely they’re all huddled together does Makino feel it when the boy’s heart skips a beat.