Chapter Text
Katakuri had hardly slept a wink even after their late night had finally ended. his bedroom floor was littered with crumpled pages of letters that he'd never send. Trying to find the words for a once-friend.
How could he?
How could he fit a decade of worry and mourning into something as small as a letter. And even that was hanging on the hope that his mysterious contact would be able to find someone like Isla.
Failing that, he'd resorted to stress baking long after the night could hardly be called night anymore and well into the early morning.
After he'd forsaken any notion of sleep he'd gone to oversee the transfer of one of Mama's valuable Lunarian journals to the castle chefs. It was supposed to be Compote's duty but after last night... He thought it better to let her sleep in and spend what time she could with her wife and children.
He cast a glance at the clock cheerily ticking away on the wall. Compote and Honey were probably waking to the pile of toddlers having climbed in their bed right about now. The rest of their younger siblings would be waking soon as well.
His eyes burned but his arms remained crossed over his chest. Their natural color would mask the worst of it from view but...It would be best not to advertise his weakness.
A sigh died in his chest.
There was still so much left to be done. Mama would accept nothing less than perfection today. He had to see that she got what she wanted.
If only he could shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong.
~o~o~o~
The Beast Pirates' quartermaster simply sipped at the least tooth achingly sweet coffee he'd been able to find and let the world pass him by. He was the first of their little shore party to show and rumors had already begun to fly about why that was.
Apparently the Big Mom Pirates really didn't believe in knocking.
He cast a passing glance at the shell-shocked — puppet? Man? Creature? Thing? — with bland knowing. If those things had souls — and he assumed proper feelings — he knew exactly how it felt right now.
He'd been there, done that, and he'd learned his lesson.
No reason to stop someone else from learning theirs. Even if he didn't think there should have been a need for this particular lesson at all.
They were parents doing what parents had been doing since the dawn of time.
No. He didn't pity them all that much after all. He supposed this was just one of those times where the philosophy on consequences really got to shine.
Speaking of consequences...
He eyed the soupy breakfast grain mash that was being placed at the table. That was bound to be a problem.
He'd only begun to contemplate how much of one when he overheard one of the scurrying cooks proudly comment in the background.
"Tosh! Its a perfectly replicated dish based on centuries old journals about his tribe." That sounded nothing like talking to a real living member of the vice-captain's tribe. Or even meeting with someone who had.
But something like that...
It wouldn't be a bad idea to have a copy — just to run a few things by the swordswoman when they got the chance.
He thought about telling them they were better off turning it into cookies or something else. Literally anything else, really. Because it was obvious which parent was not going to be telling Little Yamato to eat something she didn't like.
But then he recalled the way the witch's eyes looked over the vice-captain like he was a slab of meat.
A small frown began to tug at the corners of his mouth.
They weren't among friends here.
These people had their own goals in mind. And their own means to those ends that they didn't know.
It was abundantly clear from all of this —
The set dressing,
The spectacle of it all;
Whatever their goals were...
Making this place seem appealing enough to make King want to stay seemed to be chief among them.
He hid the frown that darkened his expression behind his mug once more.
They wanted to win the vice-captain's favor and he wasn't about to help them get their way.
Especially not when it was clear that was the last thing King himself wanted.
He cast one last glance at the unknown porridge.
If an enemy was about to do something stupid, he wasn't going to be the one to stop them.
~o~o~o~
Like everything else this morning finding Linlin's dining hall turned out to be a pain in the ass — no doubt by design.
With King at his side and Yamato happily kicking her bare feet against his arm they finally turned the last corner. He glanced down at his brat with a raised brow.
She just looked back and made his face back at him.
“Ah?” Why the hell slobbery baby noises sounded like a question he didn't even know. The brat was probably going to end up wearing nothing but sandals when she finally got a say in that.
He leaned towards King but anything he had to say died on his tongue.
King's eyes dimmed like stale blood with a glare that held nothing but disdain aimed at the procession of high back chairs lining Linlin's table. Once again everything was sized appropriately but there was no care given to unique features.
Not his horns.
Barely her own brats' and all their novelty.
And definitely not King's wings.
It made the flattened edge of his tusks grind in his mouth like quarry stone.
Why?
It wasn't like it was hard. Back when they had been having their ship and its furnishings designed he'd thought nothing of making bench seats and low backed chairs the norm for his winged first mate. And when they couldn't they had fucking improvised. A pile of crates and chests just the right height was just as good a chair as anything else.
He lost nothing to keep King comfortable.
But here...
Even if Linlin got her wish...
Even if she wore King down and got him to sire one of her whelps...
He'd be miserable here.
Never mind Linlin's disdain for anyone influencing her brats warring with King's devotion to his. The environment alone would drive him away. Even surrounded by the odd and unusual, unique faces and shapes, King would still be seen like nothing more than an exotic bird.
Why?!
The question kept looping in his mind over and over again.
It was a bitter pill to swallow but as he cast his eyes around the room where the other brat he'd had under his care sat — he knew in his bones he already knew the answer.
She claimed to want him.
She'd pulled out all the stops; trying to get them pissed off at each other, laying on charm and hospitality... they hadn't worked but she'd tried it. But somehow in the midst of her grand gestures, she'd missed the simplest things.
Because he and Linlin were more alike than even he had thought.
He knew he wasn't made for soft things.
He knew he didn't know a damn thing about love of any sort.
He'd made his peace with that.
But Linlin...
There was no telling if she knew she didn't know.
She was a conniving woman.
Cutthroat and vicious as they came.
But she was also childish in more ways than just her moods.
Linlin wanted a Lunarian the same way she wanted a baby only to set it down like a doll she'd lost interest in.
Linlin didn't want King.
She didn't even properly want a Lunarian.
She wanted the idea of him and didn't give a shit about any of the parts that came with having him.
"I hear its been an uh...interesting morning, sirs." The voice of his quartermaster broke the weight of his thoughts.
King didn't justify the comment with an answer and he wasn't too inclined to himself either. It was starting to feel like he'd used up all his luck just getting his brat to sleep through the night.
~o~o~o~
All around their mother's table thirty Charlotte children gathered, from newborns and toddlers to adults in their prime. All spread out and divvied up according to age and their mother's favor. A fact that was surely lost on their guests — as it was meant to be.
From their earliest memories they had been told family were the only ones they could ever truly trust. And even among each other there were still degrees between them.
But that was simply the way it was.
Gatherings and meals had a system to them in a family as large as theirs. The oldest siblings would tend to the needs of the youngest. Those less favored by Mama would stay to her off side. The side often flanked by Zeus was more forgiving than her dominant handed one where Prometheus resided or Napoleon could be so readily available.
Katakuri's future sight flared to life in an instant and it felt like his soul had left his body and his lungs turned to mochi.
And...
There was nothing he could do.
Seeing it before it happened was still too late to stop it.
Prim had slipped from his brother's watch and darted to play under the table. Normal three year old antics that would have meant nothing if it weren't for just who their guests were.
He could only watch as the Lunarian stilled, feeling his feathers being tugged by a hand that didn't belong to his own child.
Those darkly lined red eyes were pointedly cast downwards to the small half-octopus mer toddler grinning through her baby teeth at him fearlessly patting his feathers.
He couldn't breath...
He couldn't move...
He...
The Wildfire stretched a single wing with a giggling squirmy octoling still holding on to plunk the toddler in her own seat.
Air rushed back into his lungs.
Foresight and present sight swam like drunken eels.
She was safe.
It was only that that let his mind finally see the seen before him for what it was.
It was strangely adorable and matched perfectly to the journals and reports he'd once read about the man's people.
How they raised their children.
How the size between parent and child was so great their little ones learned to climb before they even walked. And how the very first things they learned to climb were their parents who would simply let them scale their sides and wings and hold on tight.
What he saw before him now was all the proof he needed that those words had been right after all. He was thankful to every power in the world that carved that instinct into this man's bones if that was what kept his little sister safe.
"Again!" Prim's giggles cut thought the air as her tentacles flailed already making her next attempt to climb from her seat. Thankfully those closest were quick enough to catch her before she could this time.
All the while, Mama's eyes shined with warm amusement for her.
~o~o~o~
“Come, come. Lets enjoy some breakfast.” Linlin's voice was like syrup as her minions all sprang to life to do her bidding.
Mashed stewed grain was pushed towards him with a single finger as if King refused to touch it any more than he had to. Yamato's baby noises at the stuff she no doubt wanted to put her grabby little hands in was the only acknowledgement it got.
Other foods were served. Honey cakes, eggs, greens, and things he couldn't name.
They were wise enough to cut fruit in front of them, at least. They had to know a set of devil fruit eaters wouldn't touch it otherwise.
A ripple ran down King's wings.
"Good right?" Linlin's oldest girl smiled through lipstick it still felt too damn early to be wearing.
"Melon and Dill."
"It'll help with the hot flashes."
"Mine were the absolute worst when I was pregnant with my third set." Mentally he shut down the math his mind had started to do before it could get close to an answer. Charlotte rules still applied.
He could tell though that King hadn't been fast enough to stop his own thoughts from doing the same. His wings said he was perturbed by whatever conclusion he reached but he was quick to recover.
“It seems your little spy was more observant than I thought.” The brat looked like she couldn't decide if she wanted to puff up her chest or sink into her seat. Even more so, when he sister clapped a hand against her back.
"Does it matter if its doing you some good?"
"That remains to be seen." Nonetheless he popped another chunk of melon into his beak pretending he wasn't aware of all the little eyes staring at how he ate through his mask.
Nosy brats, the lot of them.
He had Yamato settled in the crook of his arm — or as settled as she was going to get apparently. He didn't know what had gotten into his brat but she was wiggly and excited over something.
She kicked her chubby little feet again, barely scooting herself up his arm.
"Are you crawling or climbing, brat?"
“Probably both. Its a good sign. Her strength is keeping up with her growth.” There was a warm glow in those sweet summer berry eyes that he couldn't help but trust.
He poked his squirmy little brat's belly.
Yamato toppled back against him with the most affronted looking expression her baby face could muster.
A small chuckle rattled in his throat. He recognized that look — for all that it was usually hidden behind a mask, he recognized it. King's expression looking back from eyes like his own...He didn't know how to feel about that.
But then...
King went silent and still.
He didn't even look like he was breathing but his hand...it tensed tighter around his fork than it did on a sword.
What the hell was going on here?
At the end of the table he caught sight of Linlin. Her eyes were fixed on King with greedy satisfaction.
What had she done?
Was it the food? Had she really stooped to drugging them after all? His eyes darted to where Queen sat eating everything they were.
So what was it?
He took a bite.
There was something familiar about the taste. Something close but ever so slightly off...
Dammit.
He knew where he recognized those flavors from. They had been scarce. Wild fragments littered between the husks of what had once been flourishing groves; the scars that were all that remained of trees that had outlived giants.
Berries, nuts, and cliff bird eggs and the taste of thin air unlike anywhere else.
Some of their first meals a free men had tasted like this. And the very last taste King had of his own people.
His mind was sent reeling.
How did she...
There was no way even she could …
His wild twisting thoughts careened to a halt all at once.
There was no way she could have planned this and put it together so quickly.
Because she hadn't.
She had been gathering these for who knows how long. Quietly cultivating them until she had the right audience to show off for.
Shit.
King was poised like he'd been made of stone.
Ready and willing to put his own feelings aside to see this through like they needed.
Maybe he should have let him. It would have been better for their goals if he did but...
But he couldn't.
"Go." King's silence was question enough. "I'll handle it." A shallow nod tipped his way before Yamato was pulled into her papa's arms.
He turned to his remaining crewmen. Queen was ignored as he set his sights fixed on his quartermaster. He was no help but he'd have to do.
"Go with him."
"Yes sir."
Mama frowned at the unexpected change in the air.
On the heels of the Lunarian's departure his captain turned on their mother with a growl that sounded more like it came from his zoan than a man.
“You just gave a man who's lost everything a taste of home and a past that's dead and buried. Did you really think nostalgia was going to taste sweet?”
As he stormed from the hall steps like thunder dimmed in the distance leaving the stunned silence of their family to rush in and flood the titanic space he left behind.
~o~o~o~
With Yamato held to his chest King's gaze rose to meet him.
"I —”
"Don't. I'll find a way."
He had to.