Chapter 2

Franky fidgeted awkwardly in the main foyer, feeling like a teenage boy instead of his actual age of thirty four years in the large and empty - well, relatively speaking, he amended as he looked around at the furniture and fancy candle holders that would probably break if anyone tried to put any sort of weight on them - confines of the governor's mansion as he waited to finish his delivery.

Why he'd been asked to come up here when the errand was to hand over a sword to the newest Marine Commodore, he had no idea. Probably because it had been the governor who had commissioned the thing to begin with. But a job was a job and Franky wasn't in much of a position to be picking and choosing where and how he made his money these days.

Twenty years, he'd been… well, not really close to Nico Robin, in the usual sense of the term, but close enough due to her continued insistence on watching over him. It'd been long enough for him to realize that not only was she kind, she was - incredibly, unspeakably, superbly - smart and beautiful.

Also that he was in completely love with her. Couldn't forget that part.

But it had also been enough time to realize that, no matter how he felt about Nico Robin, nothing was ever going to happen between them. She was the - admittedly, adopted, but there was little difference in her status for that little detail - daughter of the island's governor and he was an ordinary nobody of an ordinary trade who happened to be the son of pirates, not that he'd ever willingly told anyone about that little detail. The only way their stars could be more crossed would be if Robin were actual royalty or if international politics or arranged marriages somehow became involved, which seemed a touch unlikely at this point.

So, that left just keeping his trap shut and not doing anything to embarrass her.

He smoothed down the front of his vest absently, trying not to obsess over the fact that the pink floral pattern was easily the brightest thing in the room after his hair.

It was bad enough that he had to dress himself up this much to be able to make the walk up to the mansion without getting too many weird looks, but the attack of the nerves that had decided to attack the minute he looked up at the building and realized that he was about to step into Nico Robin's world - so very different from that of a humble blacksmith's - wasn't helping at all.

Now, if Franky was back in the smithy, this wouldn't be a problem. Every interaction there wasn't loaded with societal expectations or bad memories, because everyone that went in was either there to do business - an easy exchange of money and services - or was on his level to begin with and the work itself was pure simplicity.

"I trust there were no difficulties in fulfilling my order?" the governor asked as he came striding down the stairs.

Nails? Easy. Door hinges? Easy. Locks? Easy.

"None at all," Franky said as he turned the case in his hands around to rest on the piano that sat in the middle of the foyer, snapping it open to reveal the sword within.

Swords?

Well, a little less easy, but still nothing complicated in the face of his skills. There were technical aspects to the steel folding and the precise eye needed to find the perfect timing on strikes, but compared to the guns and cannons Franky used to make…

He shook his head free of the memories before they could settle in properly as the governor inspected the blade.

Yeah. Swords. Easy. And not nearly as uncomfortable either, even if the manufacture of blades didn't spark his creativity and imagination like explosives and complicated gun mechanisms. Swords were only capable of so much damage, after all, and couldn't be so easily twisted and sabotaged as to destroy entire lives in a single shot.

Hell, Franky couldn't even find satisfaction in shipbuilding anymore, no matter how many times Iceberg called on his skills down at the docks. It's not like he hated the work, hell, he still loved it - but it was Tom's passion too, which just served to bring up those same bad memories and twisted up feelings left in the wake of his mentor and adoptive father's death.

"It looks to be all in order," the governor finally decided with all the air of a man out of his depth with regards to the subject he'd decided to involve himself in. "Though I rather think that the opinion of the man it was made for needs be considered-"

The front door slammed open as the man in question barged in.

"Apologies for my lateness, sir," Smoker said curtly, looking twice as bad as Franky felt crammed into that uniform. 'Neat' was not a good look on the man, just as much as 'polite' didn't suit his tongue, and it was unnatural to see him stuffed into a spotless, perfectly pressed uniform with his silvery-grey hair pulled back in the usual Marine style.

Yet another advantage to being a lowly blacksmith, he supposed - his only dress code was whatever he could afford and keep from catching fire in the forge.

On the other hand, Smoker was in a position to actually propose to Nico Robin without his suit immediately being dismissed, so it was hard to say who really had the better part of the deal. Franky certainly couldn't.

"Ah, Captain Smoker - or rather, Commodore, with your latest promotion," the governor said brightly, the slip a rather deliberate one that the man was using to call attention to the change. "I suppose I'll have to get used to addressing you with your new rank."

"And I'll have to get used to hearing it," Smoker replied with a tone that rather implied that he'd have been happier never to hear it at all.

"I will go fetch Robin - the maids have likely finished helping her get dressed by now."

With that, the governor bustled away up the stairs, likely thinking oh so merrily of his latest matchmaking scheme, leaving Franky alone with the Marine for a few minutes.

"I'm not usually one for swords, but it's expected with the promotion," Smoker said quietly enough not to draw the attention of the governor that had commissioned the piece. Though the man wasn't even in the room anymore, the architecture of the building made it easy for sound to travel through it. "I'll have to place an order for a matching jitte."

Franky rummaged through his memory for any clue as to what one of those were and finally came up with an answer. "One of those Japanese sword breakers?"

"They're dead useful things, regardless of if you're dealing with swords or fists," the man confirmed with a nod before drawing his new sword and giving it a couple experimental swings.

As usual, there was no more explanation forthcoming on exactly what sort of combat Smoker had seen where sword breakers had been a feature - a previous Pacific placement that preceded him being transferred to the Caribbean? An eccentric officer distributing their collection of unusual weapons to their crew in a pinch? -, but Franky was used to that from the Marine… and it was refreshing in its own way, not getting dragged into a one-sided conversation about world-wide tours and exotic experiences.

For all that was unsaid about his skill with sword breakers, his sword technique was basic - no surprise, given that Franky remembered Smoker being more of a 'hand's on' fighter when he wasn't using that two-meter-long beating stick to thin out the mobs of ne'er do wells Port Royal occasionally found itself host to. It'd be interesting to see how the man got around this new handicap, given that an officer of his importance wouldn't usually be allowed to have such 'crude' methods as using his own fists.

"You've done good work with this," the man finally decided as he slid the blade back into its sheath. "I'm sure Tashigi will tell me just how perfect it is later. I must ask, was the gold filigree on the handle necessary?"

Franky shrugged off the compliment. "It's a bit more flowery than I'd usually design, but the flash was part of the commission and it won't get in the way of the blade doing its job. Swords are the main thing we make now, besides nails and other small items. Not enough people in the shop left to do bigger projects. You know how it goes."

The Marine looked to side unhappily, the expression of contrition resting uncomfortably on his harsh features. "…yes, I recall. You have my condolences… and apologies, as always."

From any other person, those words wouldn't mean much of anything beyond a faint acknowledgement of embarrassment. From someone like Smoker? Franky knew it was as much an apology as he was likely to get from any member of the Marines for what happened to Tom and both he and Smoker knew it. There would likely be no real justice, but that at least one man in the organization felt bad for being even tangentially involved…

No, it didn't actually make him feel better. But it did allow Franky a bit of peace in handing any of his creations over to the man specifically.

"Come see me in the next week then - we'll take the measurements, talk materials and cost for your sword breaker," Franky said quietly as the sound of approaching footsteps started to echo down the main staircase.

Both men looked up just in time to catch Nico Robin's arrival.

It was odd to think that twenty years ago, she was rather ordinary to look at; now she was a woman in full bloom, time only serving to sharpen the beauty she'd grown into over the years. Her long black hair was twisted in the artful style currently favored in continental high society and the lilac fabric of her dress - probably the most modern and fashionable style on the market at the moment, or at least as close as could be managed across the ocean from where such decisions were made - gleamed richly against the warm brown shades of her skin. And her smile, so soft and so teasing when paired with those glitteringly intelligent eyes, that spoke of so many sweet secrets that she wouldn't be sharing any time soon…

Right, Franky thought to himself, that was enough staring. Time to scrape his jaw off the floor and try not to look too ridiculous for the next five minutes.

And then, she laughed. "I was just thinking of you, Franky."

"Nico Robin," he said, carefully stretching the syllables out as if tasting each sound individually. "I must be lucky to be blessed by the sight of you so early in the morning."

"Tis nearly noon, but I appreciate the compliment, though how many times must I ask you to simply call me 'Robin'?" she asked with a smile.

Franky grinned. "Always once more, I suppose, Nico Robin."

Her eyes slid off of him and to the man next to him smoothly, her expression changing minutely in the transition. "Captain Smoker."

The Marine dipped his head. "Miss Robin."

"Commodore Smoker now," the governor said gleefully. "Of course, there's still the announcement party to attend to, but I'm sure that most of anyone who's anyone knows of his advancement now…"

No thanks to the governor's big mouth, more likely than not.

"…speaking of which, we're getting close to the cut-off point of 'fashionably late', so I suppose that we must be going. Good day, Mister Franky."

"Governor," Franky replied with a minute bow. The man, satisfied with the half-hearted show of respect, nodded back before heading towards the waiting carriage. "And a good day to you… Robin," he added as she passed on her way to the door.

She paused for a breath at that, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth, before she continued on to the waiting carriage.

Well, Franky thought, watching the carriage roll away towards the fort, that went well.

"-and there will be entertainment of course, I managed to arrange quite the quality band to perform. Quite difficult to have managed on such short notice, but their resume was impressive enough on reading. To think, finding a proper string quartet-"

The carriage bumped and rocked over the cobblestones, but it was regular enough for Robin to tune out both the bumps and her guardian's rambling about arrangements easily enough as she watched the houses and shops roll by with all their people minding their business, adults attending to their daily errands and jobs while their children ran about playing various games.

It was odd to think that only a few decades ago, Port Royal had once held a reputation as a favored port of pirates, enough so that there was an actual treaty written up that a number of not-insignificant crews would defend the island from all unfriendly comers in exchange for free docking and a certain level of immunity from prosecution.

The Government had changed that, of course. For whatever reason, twenty years ago, they'd finally decided that the Caribbean was suddenly worthy of Marine presence and, upon the promise of the return of 'proper' civilization and shucking the title of 'Sodom of the New World', the upstanding citizens of Port Royal were all too happy to trade their informal protection for something more uniform and properly patriotic.

The regular people had a considerably less happy time of it, especially those that ran the local alehouses, but they were wise enough not to say anything about it within earshot of their new minders. The pirates… well, while a fair few crews had found themselves an uncomfortable death at the end of a rope, the rest learned of the change in weather in time to steer clear of the storm.

Robin had been young enough to remember it, as she'd arrived in the town at the beginning of the transitional period. The memory of sailing through the decimated remains of a merchant ship and all the people that had once sailed with it had kept her from caring much at the time, but by the end…

Well. By the end, it wasn't just pirates getting strung up at Gallow's Point. And the wording of some of the charges had made her glad that she had taken Franky'scoin from him when they had met and hidden it away.

And now, it was hidden in a different way than before - instead of being tucked away in a false bottomed drawer, it was now hidden in plain sight around her neck, the long chain she had strung it on dropping the jauntily grinning skull between her breasts and into an area even her most daringly cut gowns would conceal barring some highly unlikely malfunction of fashion. There was still an element of risk in wearing it out in public, but somehow, she was more comfortable with its presence so close.

Perhaps that should have been worrisome, such a simple object having a power more fitting for some magical ring out of a mythological story, but for now, Nico Robin would settle for feeling slightly more comfortable in her current social role as the genteel young lady from the manor. At the very least, it would make the torturous corset nonsense she'd was being subjected to a bit more livable.

Alas, there would be no pirate attack to distract from the cultured activities she would have to sit quietly through, she realized with a sigh as the carriage finally reached its destination, playing the very portrait of a lady all the way.

Unfortunate.

The boat was small - a comfortable size for a few of one or two, but decidedly cramped when filled for five bodies. This situation was not improved by the fact that a good half of the available interior was full of water, a situation that was leaning towards a full sinking the more time passed.

Not that the occupants seemed overly preoccupied with that at the moment.

"It was Sanji and Zoro's fault, not mine," the captain of the ill-fated vessel whined as his navigator planted her fist in his skull. "They're the ones that put the holes in the bottom."
"Because you decided to do your stupid imitations," Nami hissed as she twisted her knuckles around Luffy's head in the world's most cruel and unusual noogie, her victim flailing in her grip. "And got them started fighting in the first place!"

"There wasn't anything else to do! We ran out of food three days ago."

"And whose fault was that again?"

"Luffy's," the other three members of the crew said simultaneously from their various positions.

Their captain made a pouty face. "Mean."

"You're just lucky we found this island before we starved," Sanji said, looking over the rocky cliffs they were approaching. "Does anyone know the name of the town?"

"Are you serious - it's Port Royal. Only the second biggest city in the whole New World," Usopp pointed out from his place on the mast, gesturing at the hills full of houses beyond the docks.

That immediately perked Luffy up. "That's great! Shanks told me about this place. Best bars in the Caribbean and friendly to pirates."

"Really?" Zoro asked, his tone interested as he scooped out another bucket of water and flung it into the ocean.

"If they were, they aren't now," Nami said, focusing on getting their steadily sinking dingy to reach the pier. There was still a couple hundred feet between their current position and it, and the fact that no-one inside was still bailing out the sea wasn't making that distance any easier to close. "Marines cleaned out Port Royal after Gold Roger became Pirate King. Now it's a 'proper', 'respectable' town that makes its money off of slave auctions instead of drunks."

That soured the mood aboard the boat slightly. None of the members of the Straw Hat crew had ever been well disposed to that particular trade, but they weren't in much of a position to do much in their current condition.

"This place is also one of the main execution grounds for pirates on this side of the ocean, so I don't think I need to remind you all to keep out of trouble. I don't want to see any part of Gallows' Point again," she continued, gesturing at the rocky outcropping that arched out over the water to display the rotted remains of three pirates unlucky enough to 'enjoy' the hospitality of the local Marines within the last few months, "unless it's in our rear view when we make our getaway in our new ship."

"What about the fort?" Luffy asked, pointing up at the stone fort up on the cliffs. "That's where the Marines hang out. That makes more sense to avoid."

Sanji gave his captain a dry look. "I think you'd have to be blind and stupid to miss the fort, Luffy."

"I'm just confused why I'd have to be scared of the dead guys there when it's the live ones up there that want to kill us." The shipless and soon to be dingy-less captain inclined his head back towards the decayed corpses hanging under the natural arch of Gallow's Point. "Dead people can't hurt you."

"Uh…"

"Like, real dead people. Not the in-between, mystery-magic dead people," Luffy explained before sticking his tongue out in distaste. "Those ones are mean."

"Okay, good to know we're on the same page there," Usopp said with a minor sigh of relief. "Really would be awkward for you of all people not to believe in magic."

"I don't," Zoro said.

"That's because you traded all of your common sense for the ability to do more violence, mosshead."

"Oi."

"No more fighting!" Nami snapped. "At least not until we've got a new ship that has enough room for you to bitch at each other without destroying something important."

"As you wish, my sweet Nami!" Sanji chirped, immediately changing his tune.

Zoro wasn't nearly as eager to agree, though he couldn't exactly argue the point being made. "Tch. Fine. I'll spare the idiot until then."

"Good." She turned back to the approaching dock. Based on how much more distance remained and how much of their boat was still above water. "Alright, everyone stop bailing and climb up top of the mast. We're making an entrance."

To any onlookers, it must have been quite a comical sight - a rapidly sinking dingy of rather ramshackle make crowned by its entire crew balanced oh-so-carefully on its tiny crow's nest as it made its final journey to dock. That all five of its crew managed their dismount from sinking vessel to steady ground without nary a stumble might have counted as impressive if not for the burble of their dying boat behind them.

As it was… well. The younger sailors in the area felt their dignity assuaged by the knowledge that they weren't ever going to be that incompetent and the elder ones felt reassured in their beliefs that everyone under the age of thirty was a fool.

And the dockmaster, for his part, simply saw another potential 'customer' to deal with.

"A shilling to tie up your boat to the dock," he droned before giving the small crew a rather unimpressed look over his spectacles. "And your names."

Luffy patted his vest pockets idly for a moment - and finding nothing in the process - before looking over to his navigator.

Nami rolled her eyes as she pulled out a coin purse from her own pockets.

"Three shillings, no names, and everyone goes on their merry way," she countered as she dropped three coins into the man's book.

The dockmaster barely blinked at the offer before closing his book. "A very good day to you then, Miss Smith and company. Enjoy your time in Port Royal."

She smiled as the crew walked on. Then, within the next ten feet, Nami had Luffy's ear twisted around as she dragged him close enough to hiss into his ear.

"Never ask me to pay your docking fees again," she warned.

"Like you didn't pickpocket him almost immediately after bribing him," Zoro said with a roll of his eyes.

Nami rolled her eyes before producing a fat pouch of coins apparently from thin air with a small jingle. On merit of sound alone, it probably contained ten times that which she had paid a minute ago. "Yes, but you know I still hate having to lose any more money than I have to. What's the point of paying the price for docking if the boat's permanently sunk?"

"It's not like it was actually your boat either. You didn't lose anything."

"No, it was my sister's."

"Alright, so that's probably a good reason to be unhappy."

"Because she's going to kick our asses for it?" Luffy suggested.

"Probably just Usopp, let's be fair," Nami said with a shrug as she let her captain go. "Nojiko doesn't really take swings at anyone else and he was the one that promised her that we'd bring it back safe."

"After you already had us unmoored and sailing away," Usopp said sourly. "I mostly said it to try to make her feel better."

"And now it turns out you lied."

"Yep. Really starting to think that's a curse, me trying to tell the truth and then crap like this -," the sniper jerked his thumb back to the end of the dock, where only the very tip of the pennant of their sadly departed ship was still visible above the water. "-happens."

"Might have to consult with Tia Shyarly on that one."

"Hell, for all I know, she's the one who did it. Seems like what would be her idea of a joke," he said, scuffing his heel on the dock. "So what are we looking for, ship-wise? Big and full of guns? Small and unsuspecting?"

"No," Luffy said before lifting up his hand, not pointing not at the behemoth guarding the mouth of the bay, but a much more slender vessel neatly tucked into a building dock, the paint bright and untouched by anything resembling trouble. "That's the one we want. That's the one that can bring us to the Pearl."

Author's Notes

A quick update on this fic! Mostly made possible by lower wordcount per chapter, already having some of the content done, the entire concept being pretty straightforward in the first place, and the whole story being pretty early on in the process.

OffclassingPhilosopher - sorry this story isn't exactly to your taste, though I am extremely happy to hear that you're still willing to give it a try despite that. I'm working on some other fic to be published and updated this year that's very different in tone, though it's still in the early stages at the moment.

Hitting the right language notes is a fucking nightmare in this story. Luffy refuses to be anything other than modern casual, Smoker won't stop jumping between Norrington's period gentleman and his own rough pattern, and everyone else picks and choses their tonal approach at their own pleasure. It's terrible and I love it.

One of the things related to the whole Frobin as Will/Elizabeth AU was the idea that you could fusion dance the first five Straw Hats into one (1) Jack Sparrow based on all their traits - Luffy being a captain with hat priorities and a weird mix of serious/silly, Zoro being a drunk with directional issues, Nami being a thief and escape artist, Usopp being a liar and marksman, and Sanji being horny on main all the time with surprising jumps into chivalry at times (along with the late appearing family drama aspect).

Okay, Port Royal is an interesting place historically (also geographically) in that it was at one point a huge pirate utopia with such a reputation for partying that people used to tell stories about the local wildlife getting wasted at the bars there. It eventually became the second largest city in the New World, behind only Boston. At its height, there were almost 6,500 people there and there was a rough ratio of one tavern for every ten people there and roughly 25% of the city's buildings were either brothels or bars if they weren't simultaneously both at once. Over two-hundred ships pulled in in a single year and there was enough coin passing through the place that they didn't use barter like a lot of other cities were doing at the time.

All of that was in an area that was a little bit less than a tenth of a square mile.

And then the 1692 Earthquake just… wiped it off the face of the Earth.

Unlike the movies, the real-life Port Royal was built on low, wet sandy ground, which is not good for surviving earthquakes or tsunamis… both of which happened during the 1692 Earthquake. The sand liquified and pretty much ate the place. About one to three thousand people died in the initial disaster, with an estimated 2,000 to 3,000 dying after the disaster of injuries, disease, or getting caught up in the chaos of looting.

There were a few attempts to rebuild after that, but none of them really took on account of various disasters - usually hurricanes, though there was a fire and another earthquake involved at different points - and even today, it's a pretty small community with somewhere in the ballpark of 3,000 people. Some of the ruins are still visible underwater outside the current incarnation of Port Royal, which is really cool.

The movie version is cooler to look at though with its cliffs, so we'll just roll with that while taking notes from the real thing whenever that adds to the coolness or plays well with the plot (like the pirate execution capital of the New World and Gallows' Point bits) because the plot kind of breaks without that geography. We can just pretend that Port Royal was founded somewhere else on Jamaica in this universe. Maybe where Negril would be in ours, except with a bay deep enough for ships. Or maybe Jamaica's just generally rockier in the PotC universe.

Questions and comments, leave in the reviews along with, as you can guess, the regular reviews. I hope you all enjoyed what's here so far - I've got more yet to go.