Stories on a Winter Afternoon (written for hakuchocygnus; pairing is Shanks/Makino; prompt is "destiny"; no spoilers)
"Got a story for you," Shanks said conversationally one gray morning as the bar rested before the noon rush. "It's a pretty good one, too."
"Oh?" Makino raised her eyebrows politely and laid a tankard of ale in front of the travelworn pirate captain. "It won't lessen your bill, you know."
Shanks laughed. "That's all right, my sweet. I've enough gold to pay my way; aye, and balance my tab as well. All right then, the story. Seems there was a girl once, prettiest lass this side of the Grand Line, and she worked at the nicest little bar in East Blue. Now this girl was born and raised in a small town on a small island, the kind of place you'd take a nap on on your way to somewhere else. Most young people packed up their boats for other shores soon as they were big, but this girl seemed glued to the far side of the bar counter, winter and spring, rain and shine. Sometimes a pirate captain stopped by the bar, whenever he was in town. This pirate captain was beat up and scarred and missing an arm, but the girl treated him as nice as the other customers. Sometimes the pirate captain thought she treated him nicer, even.
"The pirate captain liked this little town because it was a peaceful place to rest between voyages, and he liked the bar girl because she was sweet and gentle and kind and never had a bad word to say about anyone, not even about a rough old seadog like him. The girl never saw the pirate captain for any long stretch o' time, though, seeing as he was always going off t' find new islands and fight other pirate crews. There was a time, for ten years when a hullabaloo was goin' down on the Grand Line, when she didn't see him at all. But one winter's day she looked up from polishin' wine glasses and in he walked through the door, his clothes all stained and his body all done in from weatherin' the Grand Line, but glad to see her as always. And he made a proposal to her. 'Lady,' he said, 'I'm settin' off again right quick, but this time I want you t' come with me. We'll sail up and down the four Blues and take our holidays on the Grand Line.'
"Now, the ending of the story's where I get muddled. What'dyou think, then? Does the girl spend the rest of her pretty days in a small bar in a small town on a small island, or does she go off wi' the pirate captain t' see the whole wide world?"
Shanks looked at Makino expectantly around a mugful of beer. Makino continued to busy herself behind the bar, a curious smile playing about her lips.
"Do you know," she said thoughtfully, "we have the same story here in Fuchia."
"Oh, aye?" Shanks wiped away a bit of foam clinging to his moustache.
"Aye. But we tell it a bit different. You see, in our tale the pirate captain can never seem to stop moving. Something about the sea calls out to him, forces him to leave dry land once his feet are rested and his belly is full. But there was one small island in East Blue he returned to sometimes, afore he made his fortune on the Grand Line. The people of this island weren't overly fond of pirates, but they liked this pirate captain and his crew because they treated the townsfolk with a bit of respect. They didn't loot the houses or ruin the crops, and if they couldn't pay for their drink they helped out with odd jobs around town. There was a girl who worked in the bar, and she liked the pirate captain too. He took care of his friends and played fair, and she thought that was nice. Now, this girl was born and raised in the small town, and even though many of her friends set sail for other islands soon as they were grown, this girl stayed. She loved her neighbors' stories and how everyone in town greeted each other by name. She loved the outline of the town's windmills against the sky, and seeing the tulips push their way above ground in the spring after a long winter's sleep. The world was a big wide place, she knew that, with lots of wonderful things to see. But she was all right with letting other people see them.й For herself, it was enough just living with the seasons and looking forward to the tulips.
"The pirate captain thought the bar girl a right strange creature, and left the village after kicking up a ruckus with some local bandits. He didn't return for more than ten years. But one winter's day he got a hankering to go back to that little town in East Blue, and when he walked in the door, there was the girl polishing wine glasses just like he left her. And the girl offered him a proposal. 'Mr. Pirate,' she said, 'stay with me a while. My house is warm and the wind blows sweetly in summer. If ever your wandering feet wanted a home, I'd open my door gladly.'
"And do you know, Shanks? Nobody here can agree on the ending, either. Some say the pirate captain stayed. Other say he couldn't help but sail away again, leaving the bar girl to marry the nice local lad who lived down the street from her. What do you think, then?" Makino put down her cloth and looked at the red-haired pirate inquiringly.
Shanks turned the mug of beer first this way, then that in his hand. "I see," he said slowly. "So the question is: Is it the bar girl's destiny t' sail the world, or is it the pirate captain's destiny t' find an end to his wandering?"
"Aye. It's amazing how local versions can differ."
Before Shanks could make a reply, the door to the bar banged open, rattling in a gust of chill winter wind and a cluster of hot voices. The mayor and his friends, along with most of Shank's crew, were arriving for their midday meal.
"Will ye look at this!" The Mayo thumped a knobby hand against the front page of the day's paper. "Our Luffy's gone wreaking havoc again!й What has gotten into that boy; that's what I want to know." In his excitement, he began waving his cane in the air and nearly toppled over before a few helping hands managed to catch him.
"Aw, don't go overexcitin' yerself, Mayor," someone said. "Our Luffy's makin' a name fer 'imself, s'all."
"I've no problem with making names," the Mayor retorted. "'S kind o' name he's making what I'm worryin' after." He thumped the paper again and then graciously allowed himself to be helped to a table.
Behind him, Lucky Roux slammed the door shut again and guffawed. "What name's better'na pirate name?" he roared, and the crew responded with a resounding "None!"
The mayor waved them off. "Pirates," he said disgustedly. "More importantly -" he rattled the paper open - "what in all the Blues is Heinrik thinkin'? No wonder'n his tulips grow all crooked. Makino! A mug o' beer for these old bones."
Makino was already hurrying over with not one beer but a whole tray, which she set down at the Mayor's table, gesturing to the other servers to bring more. "Aye, but Heinrik's had a hard year," she commented. "That business with Mr. Jansen didn't end well."
Talk of Mr. Jansen - who wasn't in the bar that day - drew the knot of villagers closer around the table. Makino took the empty tray and slipped back away to the bar.
"A hard man, Mr. Jansen," Shanks heard someone say. "Didn't let Heinrik off gentle."
"Aye," said a woman, "not t' mention his poor wife..."
A suddenly erected wall of low voices cut off, even to Shanks's straining ears, any further gossip of What Heinrik was thinking and how the business with Mr. Jansen ended; what it had to do with his poor wife and howhis tulips were coming up crooked; how any of that could possibly be more important than Luffy kicking up a ruckus on the Grand Line. Presently, he gave up and turned back to the bar.
He watched her serve food and drink for a while, turning things over in his mind. Finally he said, diffidently, "Makino," and was warmed when she arched her smile back his way.
"It's a funny thing," he began, "but I think you left out a part of your story."
"Oh?"
"You left out the part where th' pirate captain stays with the girl through the winter, to see what all the fuss over tulips is about."
He was impressed to see that she didn't even blush. She said, "Have your men bring up your luggage then, and we'll find a better place for your ship."
"I might go away again in the spring," Shanks said.
"You might," she agreed. "Only the tulips will know for sure."
And something in the way she said it, as matter-of-fact as though this was the destiny laid on them since the birth of their days, convinced him it was so.
--End--