The Tragedy of the Golden Wolf

Author Notes: For those of you who are coming here from my author alert, this story is nothing like Genuine Treasure or Treasure Hunters. It does not occur in the same version of universe as those stories. It holds to a slightly more traditional interpretation of the One Piece timeline (that is, that the events of the full storyline thus far have taken less than a year.) There will also be no tasty, tasty yaoi in this story.

For those of you who have never read anything I've written, I like to occasionally include a "Suggested Track," which would be a song that I feel suits the mood of the chapter. I have included these for your listening pleasure, so pull them up on YouTube and give them a try!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything except Banheart. She's mine.

0: What Remained on Banaro Island

"Shit," Marco sighed as he surveyed the wreckage that remained of Banaro Island. The sun was just starting to rise over the beach as Marco's men disembarked to search for anything that would give them a clue to what had happened the afternoon before. They had heard the report late in the evening; Banaro Island had been raided and evacuated, and Portgas D. Ace had been captured. "Men, we are looking for anything at all that indicates Ace or Teach or anything, eh! Stay in pairs and call me if you find anything!" Marco himself went to search alone, and all of his subordinates spread out across the inlet shore.

The area had practically been leveled. Pieces of buildings were here and there, a chunk of sign, a piece of a lamppost. It was as though everything had been sucked into a black hole, and it was almost depressing to look at. Most men found nothing that even indicated Ace had been there. One pair, however, found the sign they had been sent to look for: a trail of blood on the sand. They followed it, and found Ace's one-man speedboat.

"Marco! We've got something over here!" One announced aloud, while the other followed the drying blood trail further and saw Ace's hat. It sat neatly atop the head of what appeared to be a girl. It was somewhat hard to tell she was a girl from appearance alone- she was covered in bruises from head to toe, all down her bare shoulders and back. One side of her face had a massive, swollen bruise, blacking her eye and turning her cheek terrible shades of purple and red. There was a long contusion all across her neck as though she had been choked. Blood and vomit hung at the corners of her mouth, and she reeked to high heaven of sickness. Bite marks and black bruises marred her breasts. Her camisole was torn and it rode up her midriff, revealing an ornate tattoo on her abdomen of a heart with an X though it, but bloody welts were rising under it, and it looked somehow distorted on her skin. Her shredded skirt revealed a fresh burn wound in the shape of the Marine's emblem on her upper thigh, and there was still blood draining from an unseen wound that pooled near the apex of her legs. However, what he noticed first was the pistol she was pointing straight at him. The maddening smirk she wore gave him pause and cause to step back, and she cocked the hammer.

"Shoot me or I'll shoot you first," she whispered in a hoarse voice.

"Girl, put that gun down! Do you know who we are?" She stared at him with dead black eyes. "Marco!" He shouted again.

"Polo," she whispered with a weak smile. "Shoot me." The two foot soldiers stared at her calmly, looking briefly at one another. "Come on! You're men, aren't you? Shoot me!"

"A strange request, eh," Marco muttered as he approached from behind her, and he quickly swept up and grabbed her wrists. She dropped the pistol, and one of the pirates grabbed it as Marco swept the girl up and held her off the ground. She began to shake and sob, shrieking like an animal. "Something is rotten here." He reclaimed Ace's hat, and one pirate put the boat forward. "You a Marine, girl? You've got their mark."

"If I say I am a Marine, will you kill me?" She hung her head as Marco kept her restrained. Her voice had lost its taunting lilt, and now held nothing but abject despair.

"Not now that you've said that." Marco shook his head in disgust. "What the hell happened to you, eh? Why do you have this hat and this boat?"

"I stole them from Ace!" She declared mournfully. "It's all my fault he's been captured! I got what I deserved!" She squirmed, and Marco heard her gag. He lowered her to the ground, still holding her wrists behind her back.

"How could it possibly be your fault? You don't look like you could hurt a roach, let alone our second division commander! How do you know his name?" Marco kept finding more questions than answers. "Girl, what the hell happened?" She sobbed weakly again, shaking her head.

"Blackbeard…" How did she know that nickname? Marco wondered as she hung her head. "That man…" She began to quiver like gelatin, and Marco lost his patience.

"Spit it out!" Marco roared. She choked, gagged, and began to heave into the sand. Marco flinched, but he didn't let go of her wrists. "The wretch is bringing up blood," he muttered. "We're taking her with us. I know she knows something. You know how Ace lost, don't you?" Marco leaned to look at her face. She quaked and convulsed, blood dripping from her nose and mouth, but finally spoke:

"If I tell you… you have to… kill me…"

"Pops, good news and bad news," Joss announced as he greeted Whitebeard. The division ships had met so the commanders could discuss the situation. Whitebeard looked more tired than usual, hooked up to his machines and monitors. He put down a jug of good sake for Whitebeard as a customary offering of good will.

"Now's no time for celebration, son," Whitebeard rumbled gravely. "Begin with the good news."

"Marco found a witness left on Banaro Island." Joss folded his arms seriously. Whitebeard leaned forward to listen better.

"You know for sure this person saw the attack?"

"She seems to have seen it and know more than that," Joss confirmed. "She knew Teach's epithet, and he's not exactly well-known even by his regular name. She knew the things she said she stole belonged to Ace, and she was wearing his hat. There's no way this girl doesn't have some information."

"It's a woman?" Whitebeard rose his brow.

"Yeah, a girl. She can't be more than twenty." Joss sighed. "The bad news is that she's been ravaged terribly by someone or something. Marco found her two days ago, and she's still more black and blue than flesh. She was half-naked, pouring blood, retching. She still can't even keep water down, let alone anything solid. Girl's a mess. She keeps asking us to kill her." Whitebeard glowered down and sighed heavily. "We can hardly leave her alone, Pops. She tried to hang herself with her clothes. She tried to off herself three times already."

"You keep calling her 'girl' and 'she,' son," Whitebeard pointed out gruffly. "Did you even ask her name?"

"She probably wouldn't give it even if we did," Joss contended defensively.

"No manners! I thought I taught my sons better than that!" Whitebeard scoffed. "Son, if she knew Ace's name, I'm not going to doubt that Ace knew her name. I'm all but sure there is something more than meets the eye here. Joss, tell Marco to bring me the girl. Let me see this unfortunate child for myself. I will get an answer from her."

"No problem, Pops," Joss agreed, and he started back towards his ship, and Whitebeard groaned to himself. Suddenly, Joss thought of something and turned around. "Pops, she may not have told us her name, but someone thought her tattoo matched a description he saw in a list of missing individuals. He says she might be the daughter of a certain Marine Captain Wolfe."

1: Captain Wolfe's Daughter

Suggested Track: "Swing Life Away," Vitamin String Quartet Tribute

Three months before the Banaro incident, he met her.

It was late in the evening, a cool night on a Spring island near a Marine base. The island was small, hilly, and generally quiet: an island of merchants and traders. The buildings were stucco and whitewash and brick, and all of the streets were lined with lush green hedges. They never experienced much trouble, nothing that really turned heads, but on this night, there seemed to be trouble brewing. A quiet pub in the middle of the city was experiencing a surprise visitor. They could tell already that he was trouble by virtue of the tattoo on his back, and the few other people in the pub were sitting as far away from him as possible. He ignored them and tried to enjoy his ale; he knew he had to be moving again soon, but he thought he deserved an hour's respite.

He'd been tracking Blackbeard for some time now, and he was running out of leads. He had checked all of the littlest islands near Reverse Mountain in hopes that he would have hidden there, but to no avail. Now, he found himself in a quiet city with lots of Marines and a lot of people looking at him funny, but definitely no Marshall D. Teach. He ordered another beer with a tap on the bar, and sipped it. He couldn't help but wish he had someone to talk to.

"Excuse me. D'you mind if I sit here?" He looked up briefly. She was fair-skinned, gold-haired, had black eyes of both varieties, carried a battered suitcase, and had a large, ornate tattoo on her exposed midsection.

"I won't say no," he chuckled, and she sat at the barstool beside his. "If you don't mind my asking, what happened to you?" He leaned forward to survey the scratches and bruises all over her face.

"Eh, I just got my ass kicked." She grinned wearily, tilting her head forward. "And expelled from school to boot." She nodded to the bartender. "Max, I'll take my usual."

"Well, that sucks!" He laughed. "What did you do to deserve that? You don't look like a troublemaker." She smiled again and shrugged.

"I was in the conservatory for pianists, the one over on the east side of town. I got expelled because I was accused of plagiarizing one of my songs. As for the ass-beating, I tried to confront the girl who said I took her song, because I know damn well it was my song she stole, and she and her friends curb-stomped me." She hung her head as the bartender slid her a tall, frothy mug of beer. She spun around on her seat, and he surveyed the bruises on the side of her face and arm. "They kicked me out of my dormitory, and called my old man. He had to take that call in front of half of his men, and tell his commodore that his daughter's a disgrace and he needs to come collect me. I'm homeless until he gets here, and when he does, I'll be so deep in the shit it'll be a miracle if I smell air within the next year. My life is about to suck." She gulped down her beer, and he tossed his head back and laughed. "What's so funny?"

"It could be worse, you know!" He folded his arms across his chest. "Has anybody tried to kill you lately?"

"Not counting the curb-stomping, no," she chuckled, finishing her beer and ordering another with a wave of her hand. "Why, what about you?"

"Try daily basis," he chuckled. "It's a life, though. You're still smiling."

"Well, crying never did anyone any good," she replied coolly, and smiled a little wider. "My name's Banheart. What's yours?"

"Banheart? Weird name. I like it. I'm Ace." Ace held his hand out to her, and Banheart shook it.

"Ace. Is that what you tried to get tattooed on your arm there?" She tapped his ASCE (with the S crossed out), and he laughed.

"Yeah, one of my crewmates did that! I should have asked one of my brothers who could spell, right? What about yours?" He looked at her half-bare abdomen, and she rolled up her tank top so he could see the whole design- a heart with an X over it, scrolled and elaborate with vines and flowers emerging from the lines.

"It's my name, too. A banned heart." Her eyes seemed to vanish into her cheeks when she smiled her widest. "My dad was pissed when I got it, too! You must know the type. He's a Marine captain, pretty strict. What did your old man think when you got your tats?" Banheart looked at him inquisitively, and he chuckled nervously.

"Grandpa? Eh. He didn't care. It's the whole pirating thing that's got him upset. Incidentally, you should know." Ace glanced at her from the corner of his eye, "I am a pirate. And that bartender?" He nodded towards the man behind the counter. "He's already called the local Marines. I imagine your father wouldn't like getting a phone call about you getting involved in a bar fight." Banheart's jaw dropped, her mouth forming an 'o.'

"Wait- you're a pirate?"

"Yeah, don't you recognize this?" He turned so she could see the cross on her back, and she gaped.

"Whitebeard! Oh god!" She backed away from him in terror. "Whitebeard- he's the most terrifying man on the Grand Line- and you're a Whitebeard pirate!"

"Is that man troubling you, miss?" Banheart whirled around to see three Marine grunts with rifles against their shoulders, and her jaw dropped. "Hey, it's Miss Wolfe!" All three soldiers surrounded her.

"Did this pirate hurt you?"

"You're in for it now, pirate!" One shouted at Ace. "That's a captain's daughter!"

"Miss Wolfe, what did he do to you?" The soldier cocked his rifle, and Ace sighed and tilted his head back. Banheart considered this.

"He didn't do anything," she murmured. "We were just talking about our tattoos. He's really not that bad. Not at all like I thought pirates were."

"Don't be fooled," the officer reminded her.

"You shouldn't make generalizations, Banheart," Ace added coolly, tipping his hat back over his eyes. "Some pirates do plunder and harm civilians, pillaging and sinking ships, but some of us just like a good adventure without any rules." He smiled slyly. "Not to say I won't fight back if attacked." Ace stood up. "So, let me guess- move along now?"

"You're Firefist Ace, aren't you?" The lead Marine took out a pair of handcuffs. "I believe you're a wanted man."

"I'm very sorry, but I'm not going to jail." Ace dusted his shoulders off. "You can let me walk away, or you can find out why they call me Firefist. And remember- don't pick a fight with a pirate that you're not willing to finish."

The Marines loaded and cocked their rifles. The bartender quickly ducked into the backroom, and the remaining patrons ran out. Banheart, however, was fascinated. She backed herself into the wall, pressing her palms to the window, and watched as Ace smirked. He fixed his hat on his head, and burst into flames. With one fierce swipe, he'd knocked all three Marines to the ground. He sighed and stepped over their dazed bodies and strolled into the street.

"Hey!" The bartender called. "You didn't pay!" Banheart dropped a wad of money on the nearest table and rushed after Ace.

"Mister Ace?"

"Please, just Ace," he corrected her as he swaggered his way down the hill towards the harbor with his pack over his shoulder. "You still wanted to talk to me? A Whitebeard pirate, the subordinate of The Strongest Man in the World and the Terror of the Seas?"

"Well, it's not like you're doing anything wrong. You've just got a big tattoo and a considerable disregard for Marines. I kind of like your style." She kept at his heels, her suitcase in her hand. "Where are you going? Back to your pirate ship?"

"No, I'm on an independent mission. Just me, looking for this one man who betrayed his crew. Just bringing some justice around. So, I'm off." He kept walking, and she kept following.

"Just you? All alone?"

"Just me." Ace looked down. "My crew's kind of busy with other stuff. This is my mission, mine alone. It was nice talking with you, at least-"

Banheart quickly interrupted him. "I know this sounds really silly and probably really goddamn impulsive, but seriously, my life sucks. My path in life got closed off when my music sheets fell out of my folder, and if he wasn't before I was seen fraternizing with the enemy, my old man is going to enlist me in the Marines and I'm going to spend the rest of my life mopping decks and living in his shadow."

"So?" Ace stopped and looked back at her, and she stopped a foot away from him.

"Take me with you. I'd like to see the world." Banheart smiled. Ace shook his head.

"Running away with me? That's not a good idea. You don't want to be a pirate."

"No, I'm not a pirate. But- what you said- a good adventure without rules." She put her free hand on her hip. "I don't want to pillage or destroy anything, I just want to do something. Anything." She and Ace met eyes, and she quickly looked away. Ace chuckled.

"You sure about that? I'm going to do some pretty dangerous stuff. I'm liable to get killed every day."

"Maybe I can help you, though." She tilted her head to the side. "Besides, it sucks to be alone. People kind of need other people." Ace thought about this, scratching his chin.

"You won't get in my way, will you?"

"No, I wouldn't dream of it."

"If you're going to be following me, you're going to have to take orders," Ace warned playfully. "Just like a Marine."

"What sort of orders?" She cocked her eyebrow.

"Not much. Just safety stuff, like to keep you from falling off the boat." Ace chuckled. "It's a small boat, but if we're careful, we should be able to manage it together. I guess I have been a little lonely." His eyes sparked. "You know, I think this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship." He held out his hand to her, and she took it. His palm was still warm, and he smelled of smoke. She couldn't help but smile like a child when he smiled at her. "Let's go!" They ran down to the harbor, to Ace's one-man boat. He stowed their bags in the bottom of the boat and stepped into his spot. "Hold onto the mast, I'll tell you if you need to change the sail's direction."

Ace's feet flared into the engine, and they moved forward. Banheart gripped onto the back of the boat, balancing herself carefully as they zipped off across the dark sea. The wind whipped out her short hair and the salt in the air stung her open scratches, but she was heading for freedom.

To be continued!

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