Chapter Text
Gol D. Roger had been to many ports over his lifetime as a pirate. All of them were different, and yet the same. They had different foods, but they all had food stalls. Different people, but they were always merchants, marines, prostitutes, other pirates, and so on. The ‘flavor’ of each port was different, but it was still a port. And Roger loved it. Loved to see each new port. To explore it and see what it had to offer. Roger even had ports that he loved to visit because of something or someone there. This particular port didn’t have such a thing. Yet.
It was a port his crew had visited once before, but it was completely different now, almost unrecognizable, compared to the last time they were here. That made it special. It was a chance to explore and see new things, to find out all over again what made this port special and unique.
And find out what food they had to offer, of course. How long had it been since breakfast?
Roger hummed to himself as he walked down various alleyways. He pulled his hat low to keep the sun out of his eyes, even if it did little to disguise who he was. Who would have thought that a straw hat would make a person stand out so much? You’d think it would be his red coat or his signature mustache.
Then again, it was a rather good hat.
Roger continued to follow his nose, trying to find some food, but at one point he had taken a wrong turn, quickly finding himself in the back alleyways where the trash was kept. Not much for him to eat, but apparently the same could not be said for someone else.
Roger hadn’t noticed it at first, but upon closer inspection he notices a flash of red bobbing around in the trash. Despite the dull tinge, the red stood out, much like his red coat, and Roger was both surprised and yet not surprised to see that the red was hair, and not only that, but hair that was attached to the head of a small child.
It was a sad reality, but the world was absolutely filled with those who didn’t have enough to support themselves. It made Roger’s heart ache to see someone so young rifling through heaps of garbage for their next meal. Heavens above the kid didn't even look all that old. Less than 5, maybe? It was always hard to tell when they were that small.
Roger watched for a time as the little kid dug through the rubbish. Digging and digging and digging some more for whatever scraps of food he could find. Occasionally he found something and stuffed it into his mouth, grimacing at the foul taste, before continuing on with his search.
Roger slowly made his way over to the kid. He couldn’t pass this by. He couldn’t.
“Hey, kid. Are you hungry?” Roger called softly, bending down to be at eye level with the kid, so as not to scare him.
Startled, the red headed child jumped and turned to look at Roger, his eyes wide with surprise as he stared up at the older man.
Shit. He was young. Look at those big, innocent eyes. Big, innocent, curious eyes that certainly didn’t belong rummaging around in a garbage can.
Roger couldn’t hold back his grin. “Hungry? No kid should have to dig through trash for food. Look” Roger pulled an apple, his emergency snack, from his coat pocket and offered it out to the boy.
“Here eat this. It will taste better than anything you can find in there.”
The kid gave the biggest grin and reached for the apple only to stop just before he reached it. A conflicted look on his face. Who knew kids could be so expressive?
Roger coaxed “It’s ok. It’s all for you. Here.” Roger gently sets it on the ground and takes a step back.
The kid looks at the apple then at Roger. Roger expected more hesitation, but instead the kid grinned and toddled over to the apple, plopping down on the ground to start munching on it. Roger chuckled. Kid was hungry. Looked like he was going to make quick work of the apple.
What seemed like seconds later, but was actually minutes, the kid had finished the apple and was now staring at Roger with a curious expression.
Roger tilted his head “What are you looking at?”
The kid tilted his head to the side before toddling over to him, making a grab for his coat. A wide grin spread across his face as he began exploring the large overcoat.
Roger laughed “Oooh noticed my coat did ya? Well of course you did. It’s a fine red coat. At least you have some sense, lots of others don’t have a lick of it, not noticing a fine coat like this. But you do, little one, don’t ya?” Roger grinned as the little kid looked up at him and beamed. He then proceeded to go back to exploring his coat, any part of it in his reach was examined, tugged, and touched.
Roger just watched. The kid seemed to be enjoying himself.
He couldn’t explain why, but Roger liked this kid. The kid’s Voice sounded so curious and innocent. So friendly. Roger had no idea how a kid who clearly struggled a great deal in life, having to look for food in the trash, could be so open and trusting.
Roger didn’t want to leave the kid. He couldn’t quite explain the reasoning behind it, but he wanted to stay near the kid.
Slowly Roger reached into his coat pocket, but the kid seemed to notice and watched carefully, his curious gaze slipping to a more cautious one for a moment, as his hand pulled out a water bottle. Caution disappearing faster than it arrived, the kid happily reached his hands out for it, his eyes suddenly growing wide and sparkly. Roger could only laugh.
“Well shit kid. No need to beg for it. It’s all yours.”
The water bottle was a little hard for the kid to hold by himself due to his small hands, but he managed with just the smallest bit of help.
With the small boy thoroughly distracted, Roger took the chance to take a really close look at him. Contrary to how dirty the kid’s clothes and hair were, his face and skin were actually fairly clean. He also looked a little on the thin side, but not terrible considering the state of most orphans. Overall, it looked like someone was looking after the kid. But if that was the case, where was the kid’s minder?
Roger hummed “You have somebody looking after you? Did you wander away from them when they weren’t looking?”
The little boy smiled, having finished his water, but did not respond to Roger’s questions. Little droplets dribbled down his chin and Roger chuckled as he wiped them away. “Messy eater huh kid?”
Once again Roger didn’t get an answer. He briefly wondered if the kid was mute, or maybe he was still too young to talk? When do kids start talking again?
The little boy, seemingly satisfied with his meal and the water, wandered back to the trash heap and started digging again.
Roger raised an eyebrow “Now what are you digging for, huh? Still hungry?”
The kid’s Voice didn’t sound like he was still hungry. Just curious. And full of expectation? Almost like he was digging… for buried treasure. This proved true just seconds later when the kid grinned wide and let out a happy shriek. Roger couldn’t tell what the kid had pulled out from his position but the kid looked so happy with his find.
Apparently his treasure was deemed worthy enough to share, and so the kid came over to Roger holding up his find for the older man to see.
“What have you got there kiddo? Some treasure?” Roger chuckled as the boy excitedly toddled over to him.
Roger finally got the hint that the kid wanted him to take the treasure after the kid bumped his hand with the find several times. Roger didn’t examine the thing too closely, instead watching the kid go back to the trash heap and start digging again. After a few moments, Roger was handed another find. And a few moments later another. And then another. And then one more.
Roger wasn’t sure if he would consider the scraps of trash the kid was handing him to be treasure, but he seemed so happy to hand him the thing he found and his voice sang with so much joy whenever Roger talked to him or praised his finds. Who would Roger be to rain on the kid’s parade.
This routine continued on for a while, and Roger made no move to try and stop it. Truthfully he had no idea what was happening. None whatsoever. But he did know one thing, and it was that this kid was a treasure, a real treasure that Roger would be an absolute fool to leave behind to rummage around in trash cans for the rest of his life.
Before Roger got himself too attached however, he needed to find out if this little boy had a family or if Roger would soon be explaining to Rayleigh why there was a kid joining them.
Eventually it seemed the trash had no more treasure to be found, or perhaps the boy merely lost interest. It was hard to say. Either way, the kid went from digging in the trash back to exploring Roger, but not just his coat this time. The boy explored his laces, which lead to him untying them, Roger retying them, the kid pulling on them, Roger fixing them, and repeating this cycle for some time.
This turned into a game where the kid would pull them, Roger would retie them to the sound of the kid giggling, and then the kid would pull them undone again. Roger didn’t realize that children’s laughs were contagious. The little twirp was having fun if the mischievous grin was anything to go by. When the laces lost their appeal, Roger’s hand became the next item of fascination. Though there was a narrow window when the boy made a grab for Roger’s knife boot. “Oooh no you don’t kid. Knives are not for little boys like you. Nope.” Roger thinks him gently pushing the kid away from the knife might have led to the boy exploring his hand but Roger wasn’t sure. After the kid had the cuteness pout. Are kids suppose to be this cute? Because this little boy is adorable.
Suddenly from down the street Roger hears someone call out to him. “Hey Sailor man, why don’t you leave the boy alone and Come enjoy yur time with me?”
Roger looks up in the direction of the voice and immediately notices two things. One, that it was much later than he realized. And second, that a pretty girl was making her way towards him and the kid, and at a pretty fast clip too.
Once she got closer, she flashed him a smile that he’d seen on many a whore, and the sight made Roger feel ill. No kid should know that kind of smile, or be so well versed in it. For such a young girl, she was very skilled at fluttering her eyes and giving him a lustful smile.
She has the same thin look about her as that the boy does. The same red hair too, but slightly cleaner. Much like the young boy, she also wore clothes that might have seen better days, but were not in horrible condition. Still closer to rags than anything else.
Roger grins at her, returning none of her lust at all, “Thanks for the offer, but you look a little too young for me.”
The prostitute coos softly to him, swaying her hips, rolling her back to push her chest and then her hips forward, “How can you say that sir? Come with me and I’ll show you just how wonderful my youth can be.”
Roger shakes his head and turns back to the red haired boy “Kid? What’s your name?”
The little boy tilts his head and pulls on the laces again, not responding to his question. Roger dutifully ties the laces up to the giggles of the small boy. Apparently his laces were interesting again.
Roger’s haki could hear how tense the girl’s Voice was. She didn’t like him so close to the kid. In fact she wanted him away from the little boy as quickly as possible. But why?
The girl, her voice less flirty and more nervous said, “He don’t speak with strangers. ‘Sepcially not men. Knows better, don’t ya sweety?”
She grins at the boy, and the boy returns the same smile. The exact same smile. The boy’s Voice… it called to her. And the girl’s Voice seemed to call to the kid.
Roger watches the exchange, his mind drawing conclusions. Sad conclusions. She can’t even be 18. How young was she when she gave birth?
“How old’s the kid?”
To Roger’s relief the girl drops her prostitute act. Her expression changed from flirty to angry and anxious. Her shoulders tense, her eyes hardening.
“He’s as old as he is.”
“And that is?”
“How the fuck should I know? 3 maybe? But he ain’t on the market.” She quips shortly, but her anger quickly shifts back to flirtation, the flirty, lustful smile returning as she tilts her head innocently. “But I am. And more than willing.”
Roger knows there are young prostitutes out there but it still disgusts him. Kids are innocents. They should be protected. Not out on the streets like this girl and boy.
Roger nods. He’s made up his mind. Really, it had been made up some time ago, he’d just been lollygagging around. He looks down at the little boy and gives him a wide grin before turning back to the young girl.
“Where are his parents? Little kids like this usually have their parents close by.” Roger asks, knowing the answer already.
Roger is not really surprised when the young girl growls at him, with all the experience of one used to the street. “Sailor ya keep poking ya nose where it don’t belong.”
Roger chuckles, completely at ease. “Have you been talking to my first mate? He’s alway tells me that.”
The girl bristles and sneers, “Oie if yur not going to be buying then why you here? Thinking of adopting the kid?” She said sarcastically, clearly meaning it as a joke. Roger can hear in her Voice that she expects him to leave, or shove off after such a suggestion. It was a way to make him leave if it wasn’t going to put coin in her purse.
Little does the girl know, Roger was going to do just that.
“Yep!” He says cheerfully, flashing the girl a wide grin.
The girl’s eyes widen, taken aback by the blunt answer at first, before laughing harshly. “Oh really? Going to adopt a little kid off the street? Just one you find? And what? Have known for all of 10 minutes? Going to do it to all of them? Should I be calling the Marines?”
Her Voice was angry, but it was also scared. Worried. Trying to figure out who to get the strange sailor away from the boy.
Roger would admit the girl was a good actor. Without observation haki it would have been damn near impossible to tell what this girl was thinking.
Roger nods, all smiles but his Voice and eyes full of resolve and determination.
“I’m adopting this kid. Don’t call the Marines. While I love a good fight, my crew is not ready to be running from the port quite yet. And this little guy doesn’t need to be exposed to a fight just yet.” Roger added thoughtfully. “Hasn’t learned to dodge yet.”
The girl dropped all pretense of trying to get the sailor away from the boy. She couldn’t take him in a fight and they both knew it, but that wouldn’t stop her from trying to scare him away.
Fear and anger made her shoulders shake as she spoke. “Oh adopting him are ya? And what? Take care of him? Taking care of a kid ain’t easy! It’s a lot of work! I bet ya don’t know the first think abou-”
The girl froze when Roger looked her in the eye. She wasn’t able to explain the look he gave her. It was pity, but not the kind most of the townsfolk gave her, the ones that held disgust and contempt with them as well. This man’s gaze held understanding, acceptance.
A part of her buried deep, felt soothed when the sailor gently said “I know.”
She wouldn’t cry. Not here, not now. Tears would do her no good, so she lashed out. “Think ya can just come in and pick up some kid off the streets and raise him as yur own, huh? Why should you be trusted with a child? Yer just a sailor!”
“What if I promised to take care of him?” Roger asked thoughtfully.
“HA! Promises are just words. And words are dripping in lies. Especially the words of a man,” she hissed.
Roger watched the girl thoughtfully, “What if I swore on my hat?”
“Your hat?” The woman blinks in confusion and disbelief, “What good is swearing on a crummy old hat?”
Roger smiles and touches the strawhat at the top of his head “This hat means a lot to me. If I swear by it, I will keep my promise.”
The girl laughs, and sneers at him, her eyes full of hate, anger, fear, and more emotions than Roger could ever hope to name “Maybe if ya swore by that Davy Jones guy you sailors are always going on about. But even then I bet you’d break that promise!”
Roger streightend and gave the girl a hard, serious look. Their eyes locked and she was trapped by the intensity of his gaze. If she could move she would step back, but she was paralyzed under the weight of those eyes.
“No sailor who wants to live will break an oath sworn in Davy Jones’ name. And any sailor who does… they don’t live long to tell the tale” Roger said cooly, his voice holding no sarcasm or humor. He was being totally serious.
The girl and Roger stared each other down, and despite what she wanted to believe, she ultimately knew he spoke the truth. This was a sailor of the “Old Way”, the ones she’d heard about who were much, much more than just everyday men or petty criminals who happened to get around by boat. It’s said that sailors of the “Old Way” dedicated their entire lives to the sea, and their very souls to Davy Jones, the collector of souls and ferryman to the afterlife.
According to what she’d heard, apparently sailors who followed the “Old Way” were few and far in between nowadays, but not all gone and extinct like many seemed to believe. The young girl didn’t know much more about the “Old Way”, but from what information she could gather, the general consensus was that you a) avoid causing a ruckus with them at all costs, and b) never question them when they make a promise in the name of Davy Jones.
The fact that she’s already done both of those things is not lost on the young girl.
Licking her lips, it takes her a second to get out words, but where she expected words to tell him to shove it, instead flowed “Alright then. Swear. Swear by Davy Jones, Sailor. And.. And your hat! Swear that you’ll take care of Shanks!”
Roger perked up. “Shanks? So his name is Shanks, then” he says, looking down at the young boy for a moment before returning his gaze to the young girl.
“Very well. I swear. I swear in the name of Davy Jones, he who ferries souls. I swear by his name and deeds that I will take care of Shanks for all his days. I will keep him and raise him as though he were my own flesh and blood. I shall teach him the way of the sea and sword. The way of the wind and waves. I will be his Captain and Father, and he shall be my Son and Apprentice. By the Ways of Old, I swear this promise in the name of Davy Jones, and on this straw hat of mine. This boy is now mine, and I will treasure him always. Both in this world, and the next one.”
With the last word spoken, Roger takes off his hat and puts it on Shanks’ head with a gravity and ceremony that should seem out of place for their current location.
Shanks was surprised by the sudden thing on his head as it slid down, covering his eyes. He reached up to pull at it, but he didn’t take it off. Roger smiled at the boy, but his full attention remained on the girl. Her Voice was a mess of emotion and yet silent in shock at the same time. In that moment Roger misses the girl’s eyes mist over as tears collect in her eyes as well as the moment her shoulders slumped in acceptance, but he doesn’t miss the gust of wind and the accompanying shiver that races up his spine.
Davy Jones has heard his promise. And he plans on holding him to it.
Rubbing at her eyes, the girl gives Roger a hard look that could only be described as one of a mother’s determination. “I believe you Sailor. Take care of the boy, or the hat is mine, and Davy Jones will be the least of your problems.”
She looks at Shanks, still at Roger’s side. Shanks grins widely up at the girl, and takes a step towards her, only to stop when she shakes her head. “No Shanks. You go with him now. Be good. You’ll do well.”
She reaches out to stroke his hair, treading her fingers through it gently before pulling her hand back. She pushes Shanks towards Roger, and despite his initial confusion, the boy doesn’t seem to need much more encouragement to go towards the interesting man.
Roger watches this scene and hears the pain is the girl’s Voice, as well as her resolve. So young, yet so strong.
Reaching into a pocket, he pulls something out. Gently he takes the girl’s hands, and places the item in her grasp. “I will take care of him. Now take care of yourself. Shanks is in good hands.”
Roger releases her hand before picking Shanks up and walking away.
The girl stands rooted in her spot as she watches them go, clutching the bag of gold Roger had given her. She doesn’t understand why this has happened, but she knows that Shanks will have a much, much better life in the hands of that sailor than he ever would with her. So much better. And with the bag of gold in her hands, now so will she.
Tears streamed down the girl’s face as she turned to the darkening sky and prayed, for the first time in a long time, to someone, anyone, who would listen to her desperate pleas.
‘Please forgive me, Spirits. I know he was your gift to me… but I’m so tired… I wouldn’t have been able to keep this up for much longer. Please let the man who took him be good and honorable. Please let Shanks have better now. Please let him have the life I never could have given him. I beg of you... Please….’ The girl sobs silently to herself as she turns and, without looking back, walks away. Away from the docks. Away from the brothel. Away from the hard, cruel life she’d led here until now. But not from the memory of Shanks or the kind sailor who’d unknowingly set her free.
The dirt path is blurred by her tears, but her future is brighter than it's ever been.
Roger watches her go with his observational haki, while the boy watches her go over Roger’s shoulder, his eyes filled with confusion and sadness.
Roger gently rubs Shanks’ back. “Don’t worry kiddo, she'll be fine. And now so will you” he says with a gentle smile, which quickly widens as the docks come into view.
“Just wait till you meet the rest of my crew!” Roger says excitedly, watching as Shanks’ gaze shifts to the large vessels that line the docs. “They are going to love you.”
As Roger told Shanks all about the crew and his new home, Roger watched over the girl until she reached the very edge of his observational haki.
He did what he could for the girl. Now he has a promise to keep.
And keep it he would.