Gilded Birdcage
Summary: In which Sabo's gilded birdcage metaphor is actually quite literal.
The original founders of the Goa Kingdom were Skypeians. True kings were expected to have actual wings, but none have in generations. The nobility are ever alert to a chance to claim the throne and manage their marriages and heirs accordingly for the best possible chances of a winged child.
The Outlook noble family got lucky.
Sabo has been raised since birth in a gilded prison, carefully instructed and groomed to be the next True King of Goa. Immediately adopted into the royal family, his birth family elevated in status accordingly, his entire future written out for him by Goa's current king, a third descendant from the previous True King.
A child can only play puppet for so long.
Sabo Outlook always knew he was different. His earliest memory was staring at his mother and thinking just that. Different. Mother was different. Father was different. The nurses and maids and servants, all different.
Not from each other. From him.
Nobody had wings.
He was very aware of his wings. Long before he could talk. Before he could walk. How could he not be? Everyone else was very aware of his wings as well.
He hated it. Always grabbing at them, stroking them, pulling on them, arranging them just so. It hurt. He cried.
Nobody cared.
Just continued to talk over his head. Made him wear special clothing that showed them off. Heavy gold circlets (manacles) around the bases, silky metallic ribbons (chains) woven through the feathers. Special tops designed to allow his wings through, different from everyone else's (different different different).
He tried complaining. He couldn't sleep with all this crap in his feathers, binding and weighing down his wings.
Ungrateful child, they whispered. Selfish brat. Undeserving.
Things got worse instead of better as he got older. Taken from his home, paraded around the streets, delivered to the palace and just handed over to the king like a present.
Like a slave.
More unwanted luxuries to weigh him down. Pounds and pounds of heavy fabric. Golden crown, necklaces, bracelets, rings.
The window to his room was bolted shut. The door was guarded at all times. His schedule was mapped out from sunrise to sunset, with time allotted for grooming, meals, education, and entertainment. But that entertainment involved sitting perfectly properly in a room full of other noble children also sitting perfectly properly. Sabo wasn't stupid - 'entertainment' was more 'education'.
His parents didn't even bother to visit. He saw them occasionally only when they appeared before the king to be honored or whatever. They had many words to say to the king.
They barely glanced at him. When they did, like everyone else, it was only at his stupid wings.
Would they even recognize him if he covered them up?
That stray thought stunned him.
Would they?
Sometimes he wondered to himself if anyone in this damn castle had ever even looked at his face. Knew the color of his eyes.
Could this be his ticket out?
Another noble boy left a little blue coat at one of their high teas. Sabo very carefully hid it under an overly elaborate chair that was more of a sofa. Unlocked the window when nobody was looking.
That night, just like a character in one of his favorite novels (that would surely be taken from him if it was discovered what he was really reading in the library), he broke the bolt on his window and slipped out. There was a handy trellis he could just reach out and grab.
Snuck out, in nothing but his silken pajamas (with the stupid open back, exposing the freshly beribboned wings after his evening bath). Climbed down. Snuck around to the parlor from this afternoon. In through the window, retrieved the coat, back out and straight back to his room.
After closing the window, checking there was no evidence of his escapade - and honestly, his pajamas hadn't even gotten dirty. It'd been insanely easy! He muffled a giggle with his hands. No, no, no. It would be so stupid to be caught because he couldn't help laughing.
(When was the last time he laughed? Had he ever? The bubbly feeling in his chest was foreign but oh so addictive!)
He snuck over to the door, pressed his ear to it. Faint snoring. Safe.
Lit a candle with shaking hands.
Put on the coat. It was too big. But that meant it probably covered his wings even better.
Turned to look at himself in the mirror.
Stared.
Cried.
He finally wasn't different.
He bit his thumb to stifle his sobs. Couldn't wake the guard. He could hide the minor injury under his gloves. The servants assigned to bathe and dress him wouldn't say anything. (It's not like they actually cared.)
Continued staring at himself in the mirror until the candle died.
Slowly realized that he'd never looked at himself past the wings either. Never saw Sabo past the future True King figurehead of Goa.
He wanted to be Sabo. Just Sabo. With all his heart.
The next day he refused to cooperate with his tutors. Smirked when the king came to lecture him. Rolled his eyes when he was informed this afternoon's soirée would be cancelled because of his misbehavior.
Was sent to his room without lunch and having been told he would miss dinner as well. Just as he planned. It wasn't the first time he'd acted out, and the punishment was always the same.
More than half-expecting his plan to fail spectacularly, Sabo quickly removed all the annoying heavy jewelry and clothing of his station. Left only his slacks, his boots, and his undershirt, which was quickly covered by his stolen coat. After a pause, he added a cravat, to hide that his undershirt didn't have a collar or buttons.
He'd never felt so light, almost like he could float away. Even knowing the danger, a giddy smile refused to leave his face.
Out the window. Through the gardens. Merged right into the crowd of nobles (hilariously annoyed at the soirée being cancelled) as they exited through the main gates. Slipped away before anyone even wondered whose child he was.
He meant to go back. He really did. He was completely unprepared. Nothing but his clothes and stolen coat. No money or food or handkerchief or pocketknife or anything. It was foolhardy. This had just been a test. To see if it was even possible.
That evening, staring at the main gates and the castle beyond, he just couldn't. Couldn't willingly re-enter the cage. Couldn't, wouldn't, accept the shackles once again. Couldn't bare the thought of being so exposed again, wings marking him as different forcibly displayed to be gawked at.
But if he stayed in Goa Kingdom, within the walls of High Town, or even Edge Town, it was just a matter of time. No matter how cleverly he hid. They would surely begin searching as early as the next morning. There would be no second chance.
He would rather live in a garbage dump. Filthy but free.
So he did.
Sabo soon found a perfectly decent top hat, a really cool pair of goggles, a good strong pipe, and a best friend. Pretty much in that order.
A/N: I've got a rough outline of where I want to go, but still figuring out some things. Feel free to chime in! For example, I'm torn on whether, and if so how, to include Dadan and Garp.
So far, only rare nobles and royalty have wings in this AU. So just Sabo for this story. Maaaaaaybe Sanji and Vivi if this becomes a series. I might come up with something special for D's but it won't be wings.
A/N 2: I'm primarily on Ao3 lately, but I will still try to upload my fics here as well. Just something to keep in mind if I don't reply to a comment or PM right away.