Chapter 39

When Marshall met Gol D. Roger for the first time he punched the Pirate King in the face.

What? As Rouge's brother he was honor-bound to do it.

The meeting happened by sheer chance, the events that brought Marshall to that particular island a long, convoluted story involving six revolutions, nine Sea King attacks, three weddings, several duels for the honor of three princesses and a prince, five poker tournaments, and the head judge for the New World's 35th Annual Pie-Making Contest (which turned out to be an actual thing, color him surprised). He landed on the island to take a break, turned a corner and ran into Rouge's lover, so naturally he acted on instinct.

It was probably for the best that Roger had snuck away from his crew and didn't seem to take the punch personally, jerking his nose back into place and complimenting him on the nice punch. Marshall was rather confused about how he went from punching the guy to meeting the Pirate King's crew and then holding a bottle of rum in his hand as a party erupted around him, but he shrugged and went with it.

He did, belatedly, introduce himself to Roger, who suddenly looked like he'd been hit over the head with a fish.

("You're her brother!" Roger exclaimed, jumping back and pointing dramatically.

Completely bemused, Marshall asked, "what does she tell people about me?"

Roger didn't answer, clapping him on the back and laughing in relief.)

He stayed and chatted with the Pirate King for the rest of the day and most of the night, finding out what Rouge saw in the man.

And that's what the infamous Pirate King was: a man. Not a monster, not a demon, not a disaster, just a man, freer than most but a man. A man who loved adventure, loved his crew, and loved Rouge, which was really all Marshall needed to know.

(Which made the knowledge that the man was dying even as he sat there, eating and drinking and laughing, all the more heartbreaking.)

(When the party wound down in the wee hours of the morning, most of the crew long since lost to dreamland, a miraculously awake Shanks asked his captain, "are you going to invite him to join the crew?"

Looking thoughtfully after the man's retreating back, he replied, simply knowing that it was the truth, Roger answered, "nay, that man's bound for a different adventure!"

Scratching his head in confusion, Shanks shrugged. His captain knew what he was doing.

(Barely four months later, Shanks would look back on that thought and want to kick himself.))

One of the worst things he'd ever had to do was call his crew and tell them that he wasn't coming back. Though he'd taken Chuckles with him, he'd made sure they got a new one and memorized the replacement's number.

Predictably, they didn't take the news well, shouting (in Trax's case roaring) in denial and demanding to know why. He heard tears in their voices and repressed sobs in the background, and he had to grit his teeth as his heart broke, saying gruffly, "listen up, cause I'm only gonna say this once: I love you guys. Every single one of one are my family as much as Rouge is, which is what makes this so damned painful."

"...Something bad is going to happen, isn't it?" Vertara asked, subdued.

"Davy Jones is preparing the Locker as we speak," he agreed, resigned, "there's a storm brewing, a storm bigger than anything we've ever faced, and my sister's poised to be right smack in the middle of it." Now he felt his eyes burn as he continued, "Vertara, the Coddi's yours now, be sure to take good care of her or she'll kick your ass." There was a choked laugh from the other end of the line that faded into a muffled sob, "Olivia, the second drawer of the nightstand in my quarters, there's something in there I want you to keep safe."

"Consider it done, Captain," Olivia replied, the snail copying her tearful smile.

"Wilde, you get your pick of the Treasury, most of it's stuff you put in there anyway," he mock-grumbled, adding, "come to think of it, you get the same, Cino, your pick of the Treasury. You organized the thing so you probably know more about what's in there than I do. Oh, and all the bamboo in the kitchen."

Two tear-filled laughs answered him.

"Trax, you get the last three volumes of that series you were reading; I hid them on the top shelf of the first bookcase in the library as a surprise to celebrate the day you got shanghaied into the madness."

A soft growl responded, to his ears sounding slightly wet.

"Feral, check under the bench in the crow's nest, there should be a new sword maintenance kit and a bottle of North Blue vodka, have fun." He paused, a hint of mischief slipping into his voice as he teased, "also, I give you my blessing to get together with that one guy you met on Aris Island, you know, the blond guy with the directional sense of a drunken squirrel?" And hadn't that been a surprise. Of course, watching Feral fall her version of head over heels running after the guy and pulling him out of trouble had been hilarious.

The swordsman's answering growl was equal parts fond and embarrassed as his words sparked a wave of delighted laughter.

"Zarazan, you get the last of the Sea King steaks by virtue of being the only one besides me who knows how to cook the things." The fishman snorted in amusement, mood lifted in spite of himself at the reminder that aside from his captain he was the best cook on the ship. "I also have an Eternal Pose to Fishman Island in the navigation room if you wanted that."

"Thanks, Captain." Zarazan grinned.

"Rune, look in the top of Vertara's closet. I hid some things that I thought you might find helpful in those experiments you thought I didn't know about in the back of Olivia's medicine cabinet."

"Grk!"

Laughing at the shocked sound the kid made, he hummed thoughtfully, "let's see, I think that's everything...anyway, guess if you find anything you want, help yourselves."

Taking a breath and listening to the silence on the other end of the line, he turned serious. "Consider this my final order as your captain: stay alive. Keep your heads down, become Warlords, join another crew, settle down on an island somewhere for all I care, just stay alive and, seas willing, stay safe."

"Are...are you and Miss Rouge going to be okay, Captain?" Rune asked tentatively.

"Hopefully." He sighed.

"The Coddi's currently docked at Thenetos Island, we'll stay here for now. Call us if you need anything and we'll set sail." Vertara told him, poisonous golden eyes fierce as she met his gaze through Chuckles.

"I will."

A pause, and then he smiled.

"Besides, this isn't goodbye, just see you later."

It was strange watching a snail cry as his crew burst into tears, but he couldn't say anything, seeing as by the end of the call his own eyes were the farthest thing from dry.

The day of Roger's execution Marshall was nowhere near Loguetown.

Stretched out in his rowboat barely a day's journey from the South Blue, nothing but sea for miles around, he felt it when the world itself seemed to shudder. Grabbing an unopened bottle of rum from his side, he opened and poured half of it overboard, raising the rest in a toast and uttering, "the king is dead, long live the king,"

The king is dead, long live the king, the sea echoed.

A month later, Chuckles rang.

He picked up on the first ring and the snail's features morphed into the familiar visage of his sister. Her voice wavering, Rouge said the words he had been both hoping and dreading to hear since Roger's head hit the ground.

"...Marshall, I need help."

"I'm on my way."