A/N~ Yooo! Guys, I can't tell you how badly I've wanted to get this chapter out, like, lordy! It's longer than I intended, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! Really quick, I don't celebrate Christmas as a personal decision, so forgive me but I won't be delving too deep into the tradition, plus I hardly know a thing about it aside from the gift thing XD

A few mentions:

SakuraS41 - Sorry if the warnings deterred you, but I'm glad you like it so far :)

Wordlet - thanks so much for the review, and yes...you shall recieve Thatch's reactions in due time :) XD

Silexwitch - do you need a tissue? XD thanks for the review!

Final Syai Lunar Generation - Thanks, glad you like it! And Ace and Sabo are 15, Luffy is 12 right now.

CanIHaveAHug - don't cry my dear XD

VisitorNo.18 - I completley agree. Longer chapters might be in order, or just less exposition XD Thanks for the review :)

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! And to those wondering when Shanks and Luffy are gonna cross paths...I have plans, rest assured :D In the meantime, here's some fluff!

I OWN NOTHING!

Enjoy!

Chapter 14

The King peers at them over the tip of his squared nose, arrogance clear on his polished, repulsing features; there's just a hint of surprise in his dark eyes as he looks the twelve-year-old boy up and down.

Ace doesn't move, doesn't twitch or curl his hands into fists like he so desperately wants to. He doesn't meet the King's eyes either, fixing his gaze instead on his own bare feet on the cold tiles. Eye-contact with the King is forbidden among slaves unless he permits it. He wishes it were otherwise. He wants this bastard to see his rage, feel every ounce of his burning hatred so that he might combust where he stands.

"I must admit I'm surprised," the King says at last, turning to the maids and servants that had...'groomed' and dressed him and the older girl – he doesn't know her name, never asked, never given, never bothered – standing ridged on Ace's right. "You've transformed a pair of lowly urchins into something presentable, I dare even say exquisite!"

'Disgusting son of a bitch', Ace thinks, fighting a shudder when a calloused hand clasps his bare shoulder, another hand stroking his hair, free from its knots and split ends, like one might stroke a dog's sleek fur. (He thinks of the way the princess makes Luffy sit on a pillow on the floor beside her little throne, the way she giggles and pets his hair with one hand, gripping the chain of his strangulating collar with the other, and his stomach churns.)

"Of course, your majesty," the servant behind Ace says, his oily voice sending an unpleasant shiver down his spine. He sounds far too pleased for someone who's spent the last hour and a half manhandling two children. "Only the finest may step upon the stage you've set for this grand occasion. The fabrics were graciously imported from Alabasta, the jewels and such brought in from Water 7 on express delivery. And aren't they just the prettiest things in the finery you've blessed them with? Even for slaves, they're simply beautiful! Darlings, give King Serge a smile!"

The girl immediately raises her head, rattling the gemstones around her neck and hanging off her earlobes. She smiles at the King, white teeth sparkling behind painted lips. She's immaculate, waves of brown hair pinned up in a high ponytail, dressed in iridescent blue and violet fabrics that do little to cover her flat belly or her smooth legs – the outfit is called a bedleh or something, but looks more like a glorified bikini, the strapless top leaving little to the imagination, the front and back of the skirt flowing like water to the floor yet reveal most of her legs and hips. Her wrists and ankles are framed by golden shackles, not tethered to any chain, and glitter dances across her rosy cheeks and eyelids in the light of the chandelier overhead.

(You can't tell how afraid she truly is, that she hadn't heaved her last meal in the dressing room once the servants left, hollow eyes staring into the mirror at what had become of her, what they've been forced to do for the pleasure of others, for survival. They've been training together for months now, and he's never seen her like this. It prods and pricks at something in his heart, the same it does for Sabo and Luffy, though he's yet to even know her name.)

The fingers in Ace's hair clench enough to elicit a wince from him as the servant leans down. "Boy," the servant whispers in his ear; there's a hint of warning in his voice, ice behind the wrinkling smile. "Give his majesty a smile."

A flash before his eyes – Sabo's screams as his face is held against raging fires; Luffy pinned as the whip cracks and slashes the flesh of his back, wailing in agony – and Ace's heart turns to ice.

He swallows his rage, his fear and hatred, lifts his head and smiles. His attire is as extravagant as the girl's, but in fiery reds and oranges in contrast to her ocean blues and evening violets. Where her smooth, spotless back is left bare, Ace is the opposite; no one wants to see a deformed performer. The golden shackles around his neck, wrists and ankles are tight, laced with sea stone, and the gold earrings itch terribly from where they'd been stabbed into his abused earlobes. The glitter and powder on his eyelids beg to be rubbed at, but he abstains from moving, the rattling of hundreds of tiny jewels a tinny sound to his ears.

The King grins, wicked and satisfied. "Lovely," he says, and reaches out to lift their chins with a gloved finger. Ace fights the urge to jerk back as he stares into their eyes. "Now, be sure to give my guests a good show. I don't want to have to ruin such pretty faces if any are left the slightest bit disappointed. When the night is over, you are to return to the dressing room. You'll be escorted to your rightful places thereafter, and I expect every last jewel to be accounted for upon your departure. Am I understood?"

"Yes, your majesty," the girl chimes, the smile frozen on her face. The King looks to Ace expectantly.

Every fibre of his being begs him to bite off the finger under his chin, to scream and fight and rip these awful, awful people to shreds. Hell, he can burn this place to the ground the minute he steps onto the platform, when they remove the sea stone for something more decorative and valuable.

But he can't. He won't, and the King knows he won't. His little brothers will be watching from the side of the ballroom, chained, alongside the guards with guns and honed blades strapped to their hips...

("Your power is truly fascinating," the King had said that night, almost a year ago, Ace kneeling before him with shackles that sapped the energy from him, his flames locked inside his body. The older man's grin was truly evil. "Despite your little...tantrum, I can't possibly dispose of such potential. Therefore, I offer you a deal. You shall demonstrate your powers on my stage, a 'performer' if you will. Give my guests something to watch. Something awe-inspiring. Something to fear. Entertain them. And in exchange...the blond and the defective runt will live.")

It was enough, more than enough, for him to brush aside his pride, his disgust – anger, fear tears – and agree.

His flames will bring them joy and fear, and the King receives their praise and admiration. His compliance will keep them alive. His obedience will keep them unharmed. That's the deal.

So Ace forces the smile back on his face, shoulders taut and lips a fine line of sweltering fury. "Yes, your majesty," he says.

The King grins again. He knows he's won."Good. Now go. Dance for me, slaves."

0o0o0

Tundra is within their reach, a day or so away. The temperatures have already dropped, this Ace knows, more so when he wakes up to his younger brothers clinging and cuddling up to him like the human heater he is, wrapped up in blankets and shivering.

It doesn't irritate him like it used to, back in their tawdry tree-house when the snow fell in heaps, the winds too cold to make sleeping alone safe on the worst of nights; their lack of hesitance to invade what used to be his personal boundaries, unused to their affectionate clinging, would have him throw them off come morning, scowling and yelling at their sleepy complaints to hide the blush creeping along his cheeks.

Now, however – "Geroff," he grunts, wiggling a little under Luffy's dead-weight and Sabo's arms pinning his left arm to his side, the blond's legs wrapped around Ace's waist. Drool leaks from Luffy's gaping, snoring mouth and onto the front of Ace's shirt, and Sabo's face buries itself against Ace's neck.

The response from said buried face, gold curls a cheerful mess atop his head from all the tossing and turning, is a mumbled – "mmmmno," and Sabo hugs him tighter, drifting right back to sleep. Luffy snores on, unhindered.

Ace blinks at the ceiling. "...fine," he mutters. Unable to bring himself to fling them off or even care, early in the morning as it is, Ace shuts his eyes and prays for an extra hour before Thatch, inevitably, comes knocking. He also briefly wonders how they've managed to set up and follow a routine in the mere days they've been aboard ship.

He gets an hour and a half before the commander makes his grand appearance, cooing at the sight of the impromptu cuddle pile with the young, incredibly irked fire user. He's only forgiven due to the three steaming cups of hot cocoa he bears with him upon his entry, having foreseen the oncoming chill and taking measures to ensure the crew (and their...guests, Ace can't deny it any longer) are warmed up for the morning. It's damn good, too, as are most of Thatch's culinary goods, and it brightens Ace's mood considerably.

Once they've downed their drinks, Luffy managing to burn his tongue twice in the process despite three warnings, the trio pull on the winter clothes Izo had gleefully supplied them with, scarves, boots and all, and trek through the halls to brave the deck.

The skies are cast a foggy grey when they arrive, the winds chilling and unforgivably bitter. There's no snowfall as of yet, but the number of pirates slipping and sliding across the deck is unending and utterly hilarious. Even the commanders end up on their asses with all the grace of hapless, squalling ducklings. It's all Ace can do to keep himself from outright laughing at the poor sods, though the grin that steals his freckled face, and Sabo's, is wide and unrepentant.

Luffy has no such reservations, and laughs loud until he meets a similar fate when his boot slips on a thin sheet of ice by the railing. Karma herself proves to be a bitch when Sabo, pointing and laughing at their baby brother, follows quickly after with a high-pitched squeak, landing on his ass. Ace slaps his hand over his mouth to stifle his snickers, lest he tempt karma and her watchful eye.

Another booming laugh, familiar now after days aboard the Moby Dick, and Whitebeard steps onto the deck with confident strides, grinning at the predicament his...'crew' faces so early in the morning. Marco is, oddly enough that Ace's brows rise to his hairline, perched on the captain's right shoulder, his expression giving away nothing but exasperated fondness at the hilarity around them...as if it's normal for the first mate to sit on his captain's shoulder like a parrot.

(The number of things that continue to surprise Ace are growing, to the point where Ace himself has to wonder why he's still constantly surprised.)

"Poor sods," the old man chuckles as he makes his way towards his chair, steady even on the slippery deck the rest of the crew are forced to struggle across. "Sea legs mean nothing on the ice – might as well have jelly legs."

Marco's mouth quirks in a wry smile; the look in his eyes turns sly, suddenly. "Quick question, Pops – probably a stupid one," he adds with a shrug, "but how come you're not slipping right along with the rest of them, yoi? 'The bigger they are, the harder they fall', right?"

Whitebeard casts him a wide grin, mischief gleaming in his twinkling eye. "A stupid question indeed, my boy. It's because I am Captain Whiiiiiiiite –!" He lets out a yelp when one leg slides to far forward, and he freezes mid-slip, eyes wide. All action stops on deck, eyes on the captain, jaws agape. Whitebeard blinks once, twice. "–beard."

The crew promptly collapses in their fit of laughter, ringing loud and proud in the grey skies. Still perched on Whitebeard's shoulder, Marco can't seem to breathe, bent over and clutching the captain's coat for dear life as he heaves with uncontrollable laughter, tears in his eyes. And amid the cacophony of hooting pirates, Whitebeard freaking pouts – and it's too much. It's just too damn much –

Ace smirks, loudly, and breaks down laughing the same time his brothers (still on the floor) do. It's all Ace can do simply to stand upright (to fight the threat of tears, regardless of why or how they come), clutching the banister for balance. His gut hurts from the strain, lungs wheezing for breath, and...it feels good.

Laughing, faces flushed with happiness and no looming threat of punishment in sight, feels so damn good. And Whitebeard laughs with them when he eventually regains balance, taking it all in stride when others might get indignant –

It's almost enough to have Ace finally consider...

(He's then too busy slipping and falling on his own ass, karma claiming her next victim, to see the look of pride, warmth and unending fondness that Whitebeard sends his way.)

0o0o0

When midday rolls around, the blazing sun at its zenith, the ice on deck finally melts, putting an end to the baby deer impressions and allowing all to get down to business without hindrance. And there's much to do with Tundra only hours away; parties and meals to prepare and lists upon lists of requirements to see done before their departure for Sabaody.

And though he's made it explicitly clear to his sons and daughters that they're not to be pushed or pestered of it, Edward has to wonder what the little scamps plan to do once they dock.

Seven days aboard, mingling with the crew, has done wonders to the three, wary young things who'd once harbored no trust, reeking of fear and submission. Now, Sabo willingly, eagerly, sits among the commanders and even Division members, asking questions and glowing like a flare at every answer, – sometimes, Edward will catch the lad looking up at the crows nest as if tempted to climb the damn thing and view the seas from a higher standing. There's nothing stopping him from doing just that, of course, but he doesn't know that, and won't until he asks. Edward has no doubt he will.

Ace's transformation is just as dramatic, though there's still plenty of room for growth. He gets along just fine with Marco, having confided in the older man. Thatch, has made quite the impression on him also (though it has less to do with his treats and more to do with the man himself, Edward thinks, vibrant personality and natural charm unmatched. The treats certainly help, though.) The anger dissipated with every passing day, as had his mistrust – only a small fraction remains, and that, too, is quickly fading. His bout of laughter this morning at Edward's blunder is proof of that.

As for Luffy –

"Shishishi!"

Well, Luffy needs no explanation really, Edward muses as he regards the boy in question sitting on his knee, legs swigging back and forth and utterly cosy in the striking red coat and thick boots as he watches the crew go about their business. It's humbling as it is a delight to see how far this one's come along since the day he'd all but screeched in Edward's face, how content and trustful he is in the old pirate's presence, enough to pick him as his new perch. (Marco may have had a hand in that. He wonders if the boys know of Marco's true nature; he hasn't heard any bird jokes from them yet, but he can't wait.)

Wide brown eyes drink everything in, from the dull hue of the skies, the easy banter and co-ordination of the crew below, even the occasional gull swooping about in search of something to eat. Luffy's eyes follow one gull in particular, and his grinning chops drool with anticipation. Edward shakes his head. "I hope you're not gonna try your hand at catching one of those gulls, brat," he says.

Luffy twists his neck to look up (and up) at him, the wide arc of his grin a cheeky thing. 'Looks tasty,' he signs. Of course he does – Edward has yet to know the boy's full name, but it won't surprise him if it turns out he's a 'D'; he's far too much like Garp, or even Roger, to not be. Those fools would eat anything so long as they knew they could catch it. And with Luffy's powers, he very well could catch the bird. However – "I'd advise against it. They might not look like much, but gulls are fierce little bastards when threatened. You'd be full of scratches before anything else, boy."

Luffy's shrug is careless as anything, but he doesn't make the attempt. Small blessings.

The child then swivels around on his rear to face Edward proper, crossing his legs and beaming. 'I like this ship, old man,' he signs, knowing the captain won't take offense to the nickname; 'Whitebeard' is too long to spell out on his fingers. 'Everyone is so nice and funny, and the food is great. I like Thatch and Marco, and Izo gives me cool shirts. My brothers really like it here, too.'

Edward fights a truly stupid grin, but it's a close thing. "Glad to hear it," he says. "I've no doubt you'll love the parties we have in store once we reach Tundra. We Whitebeard's pride ourselves on having a damn good time. We'd be an utter disgrace for pirates otherwise."

"Shishishi!" Luffy snickers in agreement, bobbing his head up and down hard enough that his rubber head literally bounces. Edward hasn't seen the full extent of Luffy's rubber abilities, but he's heard stories – the boy twisting his neck at a 180 degree angle like an owl, scaring the living piss out of several men and women in the galley while he giggles, mischievous little monkey he is.

The smile start to fade however, and Luffy looks down at his lap instead, pensively biting his lip. Edward cocks a brow and waits, curious but patient, and is thus rewarded when Luffy lifts his head again.

'I...I want to stay a little longer,' he signs, and Edward's old heart leaps (better be careful, lest he have a heart attack). 'I like it here. Sabo –' he spells out his brothers' name across his palm and fingers, '– likes it here, too. Likes learning about things. I think he'd like to stay, too.'

It's fantastic news, almost enough to have the captain to call for a banquet here and now. But the look on Luffy's face isn't quite as eager. There's a hint of sadness, reluctance in the shape of his frown and the slant of his shoulders. Edward might have an idea as to the cause, but still he asks – "And what about Ace? What does he think?"

Surprise flickers across young, scarred features for a moment before settling into the barest of smiles, fond yet exasperated, the embodiment of a younger sibling. 'I don't know,' Luffy admits with a shake of his head. 'He won't tell us yet. Think he's not sure. I saw him talking to Sabo before, but that's a big brother thing so I couldn't listen.'

Edward nods (fighting another smile at the latter part), not all that surprised; Ace is far more cautious, a harder shell to crack. It makes sense for him to carry lingering hesitation, no matter how many times his distrust is proven unfounded. Because of this, and of what Edward knows is the case when the oldest sibling is the dictator and protector, Luffy's reluctance is understandable; he wants to stay, but will follow his brothers. Admirable in his loyalty, but with drawbacks that leave no one satisfied.

"I see," Edward replies. "There's no pressure, I hope you know, in making a decision. We're more than happy to accommodate you. However, once we reach Sabaody we'll be heading straight for Fishman Island and then the New World. We won't be able to turn back if that's what you and your brothers want – hm?"

He pauses, blinks, looks over Luffy's head and down at the deck.

Ace is standing mere feet from Edward's boots, regarding the old captain with narrow-eyed determination, hands at his side and back erect. Sabo stands a little ways behind, hands folded behind his back as he shuffles where he stands, offering the captain a faint but real smile in greeting. Ace spares Luffy a smile when the boy spins on his rear again and waves, which quickly fades once he faces Edward again.

The boys want something, that much is clear. Edward decides to play the fool for now (as he does when any of his children come to ask for anything, it's funny as hell to watch them squirm) and smiles. "Afternoon Ace, Sabo," he greets. "How are you boys doing?"

Sabo takes a brave step forward, standing beside his older brother. "We're...we're doing very well, thank you, Captain Whitebeard," he replies with a short bow, still so formal. It's almost cute, had it been learned from any other source. At least he's abstained from calling everyone 'sir' (or 'ma'am', which had gotten quite the giggle and laugh from his daughters, flattered to pieces or incredibly amused).

The blond fidgets a moment longer, clearing his throat. "Ummm...Ace has something he wants to say on behalf of all of us," he says quickly, nudging Ace with his elbow. The look of absolute betrayal on his freckled face damn near sends Edward over the edge, worse still when Sabo raises his hands in surrender and shakes his head. Ace rolls his eyes and smacks Sabo's arm, eliciting a whine that goes unnoticed as the older turns to face the captain.

Edward waits. On his knee, Luffy looks between his two brothers with wide-eyed befuddlement. Finally, Ace draws a breath. Then he dips is head ever so slightly.

"...thank you," he says, "for letting us stay. And we...we'd like to stay a little longer, if – if at all possible. We...we don't wanna be a burden, but..." He clears his throat awkwardly, eyes darting sideways to avoid Edward's at all costs as he straightens, lips twisted in an embarrassed sort of grimace that fails to be anything but endearing.

Edward blinks, hard. Luffy's mouth drops to the deck. Sabo stifles a smile behind his hand.

'They all want to stay after all. Well, I'll be damned...'

In the end, it's unavoidable – Edward laughs, startling all three boys and nearly sending Luffy careening to the deck if not for the grip on his pants. Mirth dances in his golden eyes as he regards Ace, the poor boy confused beyond hope. "You're a stubborn brat," he says, "but that's what I like about you three. You're welcome to stay as long as you need. Any time you want to turn back before we reach Sabaody, I'll have one of my commanders take a group to see it done." His grin softens. "And it's no burden. We're glad to have you with us, my boy."

Silver eyes widen as Ace's breath catches on the slightest of gasps. He stares at Edward, as if looking for a lie in his eyes, a jest in his smile, and of course coming up empty.

Then the redness that claims his face travels all the way up to his hairline, and turning his head away does nothing to hide it. "W-whatever," he mutters, earning a gasping laugh from Sabo and a giggle from Luffy. He mutters a curse under his breath and starts to stomp away, pausing only to bark "Luffy, get down from there!" before continuing on towards their cabin. A fine place for a teenager to sulk in embarrassment.

Chuckling openly at Ace's somewhat dramatic exit, Sabo then spreads his arms to catch Luffy in a bridal carry when he obediently hops off Edward's knee, giggling in his brothers' arms and throwing is own around Sabo's neck for support, clearly having no intention of using his legs any time soon. The blond grins and bumps his forehead against Luffy's, a gesture so innocent and unrepentantly loving that it twists Edward's heart something fierce – and then Sabo turns to the old man one last time. He swallows hard, blinking back the shine of tears as he dips his head.

"Thank you, Captain," he says simply, and carries Luffy, waving at Edward over Sabo's shoulder, away to trek after their older brother.

Edward watches them go and then casts his eyes ahead, where the outline of Tundra peaks through the layer of fog settling over the flat calm of the sea. He chuckles to himself, his old heart swelling with pride, joy and so much more. They're staying – Edward can hardly believe it, can hardly believe their bravery, resilience and willingness to learn, see, trust in an old pirate and his unruly family of a crew, in mere days. After the hell they went through, the things they lost in the years under the oppression of others deeming themselves gods of this world...

It goes to show that the world and the demons that crawl about it can't claim all the young souls treading its land and sailing its seas; especially the ones who take their stand and fight back, regardless of their methods. Even if it means (by all intents and purposes) temporarily joining a renowned pirate crew. Edward couldn't be prouder.

They're gonna throw one hell of a party once word gets to Thatch, not that they weren't already going to. They are pirates.

0o0o0

They dock at Tundra on the morning of December 24th, the harbour piled with snow and ice that breaks easily under the might of the Moby Dick.

The townsfolk don't seem the least bit afraid of having one of (if not the) most powerful pirate crew on their shores. If anything they're excited, awestruck, some climbing rooftops just to wave at the crew, most of whom wave back.

But they're not what draws Sabo's wide eyes; he's fixated, utterly breathless at the immaculate sheet of endless snow coating every inch of the small island, from the docks to the hills and deep forests, to the rooftops of every home and inn and shop, even the mountaintop in the distance. It's beautiful, more snow than Sabo's sure he's seen in his life, more than even Goa on its harshest winters. It's been so long since he's even seen snow this perfect, unspoiled by quaggy boots or sludge or blood, not even as the crew dismount the ship via gangplank; all they leave behind are deep footprints, the snow about a foot deep.

It's...it's almost too beautiful for him to even dare step into.

His brothers, of course, beg to differ.

Luffy's bubbly laughter can be heard all across the harbor, attracting attention from both the pirates and onlookers – a few days go, attention of any sort would have cowed them, their eyes fixed on their feet, spines ridged and hearts pounding with dread. Now it fazes Sabo little, too focused on his baby brother to give it much thought as the twelve-year-old reaches the railing by the gangplank, staring open-mouthed across the snowy landscape beheld to them. Ace follows at a sedate pace, though his wonderment is just as obvious.

Luffy bounces on his booted feet, tugging the sleeve of Sabo's long coat and pointing eagerly at the mounds of snow with his free hand. Sabo can't help the snicker as he ruffles the boy's unruly black mane, flecks of snow already settling in the light snowfall. "I know you wanna play, but we've gotta wait for permission to get off the ship first, Lulu," he says, smiling ruefully when Luffy pouts, disappointed. Across from him, Ace pouts and fails to hide it. Dummy.

"Oh, you're waiting for permission?" asks a familiar, cheery voice. They turn, and Thatch is there, carrying what looks like a crate full of...something, Sabo honestly has no idea. He grins at them, as is the norm. "I was wondering why you three were standing here. Go right ahead, kiddos. Just don't go too far for now. We'll be heading into town soon to drop off some 'gifts' for the townspeople near the markets; an expression of gratitude and goodwill for letting us dock and join the party."

Sabo blinks. He gets the latter part, sort of, but the former...they're just gonna...let them off the ship? Just like that? No supervision, no rules aside from the one? Aren't they wary that they might change their minds about staying and flee the crew while their backs are turned? Or what if –?

"Hey..." Thatch says, his voice oddly distant, confused if not a little wary. His brows pinch together. "What's Little Luff doin'?"

Sabo blinks, shares a glance with Ace. Both look down – and then follow the elongated arms, fingers grasping the railing, as Luffy pulls the rest of his body further and further, tensing up like a slingshot ready to fire, grinning manically –

"Grab him," they chorus, and pounce as Luffy zips forward, Thatch screeching a curse as he dives sideways to avoid the flying child. They miss by a hair, collapsing to the deck in a tangled heap, and Luffy rockets himself off the deck with a crow of delight, soaring in a wide arc and finally descending – POOF!

Ace and Sabo clamber to their feet in time to peer over the railing and see naught but Luffy's legs flailing, the rest of him buried from head to hips in a large mound of snow shovelled aside by a very confused fisherman.

Sabo's not the only one to burst out laughing, hard and from the belly. He's laughing hard enough that he falls to his knees, gasping for air and giving himself hiccups, leaving Ace to hurry down the plank to rescue their little brother, aided by a hysteric Haruta and Rakuyo when all their pulling only makes Luffy's rubber body stretch further.

(Not even a minute on land and already Sabo knows it's going to be a very good day.)

Once Luffy was successfully dug out, warned against pulling stupid stunts like that again (Sabo doubts he'll heed them, being Luffy), they follow the commanders to the town center, where the markets have long been set up, lights flickering, music flowing, and hundreds of people already milling about, no doubt preparing for the celebration this evening. The addition of pirates hasn't hindered them more than it has added to their anticipation – pirates are known for their parties, and from what Sabo remembers of their first night aboard, the Whitebeard's are no exception.

When they reach the bustling market, clear of snow lest it impede the shoppers, Marco issues out instructions, more for his rowdy crew-mates – no trouble-making, no 'dine-and-dashes' (the boys trade barely concealed grins at this, old memories already springing to mind) and no I.O.U's. Other than that, they're free to do as they please.

(Marco personally, without hesitation, grants the trio with a sack each full of Bellie about the size of their palms. Sabo insists, almost begs, for the man to take the money back, they couldn't possibly accept. The older blond will have none of it, assuring them with a grin – "As long as you sail with us, you'll be treated the same way, yoi. Meaning you get your spends the same as everyone else." He winks and walks away to attend to his waiting comrades, leaving the boys gaping after him.

Tears sting Sabo's eyes, clutching the sack with trembling hands. Beside him, Ace bites his lip.)

Following Izo and Rakuyo, Sabo links hands with Luffy as they browse through the winding stalls, bursting with song, sweet and mouthwatering aromas, bursting with colors so vibrant and beautiful it's almost blinding; Ace joins Marco, Kingdew and Haruta elsewhere, but Sabo's not worried. It's a foreign feeling, but a very welcome one.

Hopping from booth to booth, Sabo can't stare at one thing before the next thing catches his eye, swallowing all his attention, curiosity and wonder filling to the brim with the threat to burst from it. This place is wonderful, alive in ways High Town never was or could ever hope to be. And this is just one town on one island; who knows where they'll sail to next, what they'll see, who they'll meet –

Luffy tugs on his hand suddenly, jarring him from his thoughts as the boy leads him away from Izo and Rakuyo to a stall selling fabrics and accessories. Sabo wonders when Luffy had ever become a fan of anything decorative that he can't eat (his already bulging sack is a testament to that, and another reason why the little glutton can and never should be trusted with money), but the vast array of clothing and the like are incredibly eye-catching; if there's anything aside from meat that'll capture Luffy's eye, it's shiny things.

"Hey there, young lads," the owner of the stall greets cheerfully, smiling wide under his greying beard, eyes twinkling behind round glasses. "See anythin' ye like?"

Sabo offers a soft smile in return, about to attempt to reply until Luffy points at a yellow sash-like garment hanging overhead. It's bright, long, thick, and Luffy seems to adore it. The owner's grin is near identical to Luffy's, already warming up to the bubbly twelve-year-old. "Aye, I see ye have an eye for quality," he laughs, carefully taking the fabric down and holding it out for Sabo and Luffy to see up close. "Ye like it? Made it myself a few weeks back, I did! Anythin' else ye fancy?"

Not two seconds later does Luffy look up, around, and point to a vibrant red cardigan with billowy sleeves, the placement of the golden buttons exposing most of one's chest. It's big, bigger than Luffy is, but his brown eyes shine with need, as though he sees his feature in the garment. The owner seems to understand (somehow) and takes it down as well, chuckling at Luffy's enthusiasm.

He brings up the price, and Luffy's face promptly falls when he looks into his sack to find that he's barely enough left for even the sash on its own. That's what happens when you spend all your money on food, Sabo muses, but doesn't hesitate to fork up the rest of his cash for both items.

(He'll sacrifice the hat and the gleaming goggles he'd spotted sitting innocently on a shelf at the back of the stall, screaming reminiscence of simpler times of tiger hunting and scrounging through garbage heaps. If only to see the delight on his brothers' face when he hands Luffy the cardigan and sash. The firm kiss on the cheek he gets as they leave to find Izo and Rakuyo waiting for them only serves to melt him further, even as he playfully swats the back of Luffy's head.

He's already got a few interesting knick-knacks and books to satisfy him. A top hat and a pair of flashy goggles can be found anywhere, anytime; years of being denied anything, everything, Luffy deserves this. His brothers' happiness comes first.)

As night-time falls, the entire town springs to life in a burst of multicolored lights, songs, bells and dancing in the square around a tamed bonfire. Sabo and Ace are all but glued to the outskirts of the 'ring' as it were, watching the happy dancers twirl and jig in tune to the music. He can easily spot a few commanders and division members among them, grinning and clapping along; even Luffy joins in, linking hands with Thatch and Haruta as they spin in circles until they're dizzy. Smirking as the trio inevitably teeter and fall to the ground in a laughing heap, Sabo eyes his older brother from the side.

His smirk falls when he notices the look in Ace's silver eyes, fire reflected in the silver hue. His expression gives nothing, but his eyes are a brewing storm, sharp and yet glazed over as he watches the dancers skip by, watching their feet, their hands, their smiles, the shimmering lights...

He's thinking of back then, of the stage and the performances. He's thinking of her...

Sabo nudges Ace once in the side, softly. It does the trick, snapping him right out of his daze, eyes fluttering and breath catching on a gasp as he whips his head to face Sabo. "Whu-What? What'd you say?" he stammers, like he hadn't been in the middle of a flashback seconds prior.

Sabo dismisses it, but only for now, and instead offers a grin. "What'd you get from the market?"

Relief flashing quickly across his features, Ace smirks and pulls out something from his sack. It's a disgustingly bright orange, assaulting Sabo's retinas. "A hat," Ace says, like the cowboy abomination and crime against fashion is anything but a hat; it bears two blue smilies, one frowning and one smiling, and a string of red beads sitting above the rim. Two long, orange side straps hang down both sides of the hat and meet at a large medallion of a bull's skull with orange tassels. "Pretty cool, right?"

Sabo looks up at Ace. "It's freakin' ugly."

Ace snickers, plopping the disaster on his head with a flourish. "I love it," he declares.

"It must burn."

"Freakin' try it, I dare you."

Before Sabo can make the attempt, a rubber hand latches onto his wrist and tugs him insistently towards the dancing crowd. He squawks indignantly, his incredible reluctance met with ignorance or teasing laughter from Ace as Luffy pulls him until he's literally wrapped in his unyielding embrace. Sabo sighs, accepting his fate (before the puppy eyes come to play) and links his hands with Luffy to spin them around the bonfire, blending seamlessly into the joyous crowd.

And it's fun, he realizes. More so when Luffy, laughing wildly, spins them faster and faster, and soon Sabo is laughing with him. Ugly hats and lost goggles aside, it really is a good day.

(If he lets the music and laughter take over, he can almost ignore the flames of the bonfire altogether.)

0o0o0

"Aren't you going to join them?"

Ace only jumps a little at Whitebeard's gravelly voice as the captain approaches the ring. Amber eyes regard Ace kindly, and Ace has to look away, watching his little brothers go at it instead. He ignores the twitch in his limbs, the instinctive urge to get out there and 'put on a show', entertain the masses, dance for me, slave – "Not right now," he manages, folding his arms lest his nails bite into his palms again. "I...I'm no good at dancing, really."

It's a damn lie and they both know it – Whitebeard must know, since Whiskey told him and the commanders after their first check-up. They've never brought it up aside from asking how his back is doing, and Ace is grateful for that. Grateful for a lot of things, actually...

He risks a glance up (and up) at the old captain. "Are you gonna join?" he asks. He's not surprised in the least when Whitebeard laughs.

"I've got energy for a lot of things, brat, but dancing isn't one of them," he says, his grin impish. "Never been good at it myself either, really. No, I'm content watching my children have their fun. It'll be a while before we drop anchor again after this."

Ace blinks. He faces the dancers and the flames dancing with them in the night gloom, his brows furrowing pensively. A while, huh. How long is 'a while' exactly? And...now that they've chosen to stay, how long will he and his brothers be stuck aboard the ship, sailing along as 'passengers'? How long can they possibly keep three freeloaders aboard before they really do grow tired of them or put them to work – ?

"Say, Ace," Whitebeard's voice, softer than his usual booming volume, snaps Ace from his downward spiral in the nick of time, and the teen looks up again. Whitebeard doesn't look at him, eyes fixed on the celebrations. Ace can't quite read his expression, but there's a debate in his gaze. It seems to come to an end quickly, though, and when the captain looks down to meet Ace's gaze – Ace couldn't look away if he tried, not in the face of such open kindness – "What say you and your brothers stay a little longer than a few months?" he asks.

Ace blinks. "What...what do you mean?"

Whitebeard smiles at him, endlessly warm. "I'll be honest with you, boy – you're worth too much to abandon in a world like this. Run wild with us, and our flag will be yours."

The blood freezes in Ace's veins even as his heart pounds with a vengeance. 'Wait...wait, what's he mean? Does he – is he –?'

"Join my crew," Whitebeard says, "and I will call you my son."

Ace blanches.

'I knew it. It freaking knew he'd ask, the old bastard –'

He bristles, and fury, white hot and deep, sears him from the inside out – he's no one's son he'll never be anyone's son – at first. Then fear quickly takes hold, gripping him tight with icy claws that bite into his heart.

Whitebeard has no idea what the hell he's asking. Sure, Sabo and Luffy are fine and dandy, they don't have a lineage that'll get them killed. But Ace is – he's Roger's child, the blood of Whitebeard's enemy flows through his veins. If he ever found out, he'd sooner have him tossed overboard. The kind, welcoming (loving, caring) facade will vanish, and he'll be no different from the rest of the world, all of whom want Roger's bloodline erased –

No. No way in hell. He'll stay for Sabo and Luffy's sake, but he'll never join this crew.

(He can't.)

Ace presses his lips together hard, fighting a scream, fighting the sudden and all too familiar sting behind his eyes. He snarls a curse and turns on his heel, stomping away, leaving the confused old man to watch him go, slinking through the crowds.

He doesn't stop until he's ducked behind a shack selling wood for the bonfire, and he sinks into the snow, trying and failing to get his breathing under control. The heat his body emits melts the snow around him until there's nothing but a patch of grass beneath him. Knocking his new hat to rest at the base of his neck, Ace bites his lip hard and digs his fingers into his hair. Music and laughter fade into nothing, his erratic heartbeat loud and thundering in his ears.

Don't think about dancing, don't think about Mei or Whitebeard or his offer or the cursed blood running though myveinsdon'tthinkaboutit –

Biting his lip doesn't help, even as the blood trickles down his chin, so he pulls back the sleeve of his coat and goes for his left arm and bites down hard, sinking his teeth into the flesh of his forearm. He doesn't stop, pressing harder and harder until –

'Oh. My arm's bleeding.'

He lets go and sinks back against the shack, letting the pain wash over him a little while longer. When the urge to cry and the memories pass, he grabs a clump of snow to wash off the blood, hissing through his teeth – he remembers to spit out the remnants before he stands, shakes off lingering snow off his coat and steps back into light, the music and cheer, a smile on his face.

He doesn't go back to Whitebeard. He doesn't join the dancing or the singing, content to stand by and watch.

(And when the party winds down around midnight, his brothers sweaty and grinning tiredly from ear to ear as they head back to the ship to collapse in their cabin, Whitebeard's offer haunts him until he finally falls asleep.)

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