Chapter Text
This was his one chance. His last chance. If he messed this up he’d be facing a fate worse than death. If he messed this up it would mean eternity, this time. He wouldn’t mess this up. He couldn’t . After all, how hard could it be to kill a demon?
⚔⚔⚔
Sanji slid his hands down the pleats of his trousers, smoothing them out as he stepped from the carriage onto the frozen earth below. It had been a miserably long journey, made worse by the unavoidable use of a horse and carriage, something Sanji had never been too fond of. He was meant for ships, land was something foreign to him, too steady for his liking. He’d never really managed to find his land legs. Not that he’d have much of a choice now, it wasn’t really worth complaining. He had no choice but to adapt.
This was to be his kingdom, after all. He was being given a chance to escape the wrath of his family, a chance at true agency, maybe even something close to respect within his clan. It just came at the expense of his sea and one man’s life. Once he completed his assignment he would be able to travel to the nearest sea as often as he wanted. He would never be prevented from doing anything again, not if he did what he was told to.
He glanced around, eyeing the gatehouse they had stopped at. It was relatively small considering, unimposing and completely unimpressive for the first line of defense surrounding such an infamous kingdom. The wall that stretched endlessly on either side of the gate was made of old cobblestone, the stone covered in moss and lichen and icy with snow, looking as ancient as the man who was speaking to his brother, white beard nearly sweeping the floor.
Sanji knew that this kingdom’s greatest export was agriculture, that they were known for the fertility of their lands and the strength and brutality of their king, but so far he was wholly unimpressed. It seemed frigid and barren, and a downright miserable place. He’d never felt such dry air in his life. It was no way for him, for anyone, to live, completely landlocked like that. He needed to get used to the idea, though. He needed to pay enough attention to know how to use this against his target, the man he was about to be politically married off to like fucking livestock. Who apparently, according to his asshole brothers, was as ice cold as his kingdom appeared to be, with an unpredictable temper and violent nature to match.
“Get back in the carriage before I have one of the guards force you back into it.”
Violence and survival was nothing new to him. Whatever his new betrothed had in store, he wouldn’t let it stop him from earning the closest thing to his freedom he’d ever had the chance at. What was one new survival when compared to the other he was stepping out of.
He stepped back to the carriage, taking one last breath of the crisp spring air before setting his shoulders and ducking through the door, averting his gaze to the floor and away from his father as he took his seat again. They still had quite a bit of journey between them and the palace, if what Sanji had understood about the sheer size of Roronoa’s lands was true. He adjusted himself so that he was sitting straight, his hands tucked in against his lap and his eyes cast downward but never closed. He always came to regret it when he let his eyes close.
⚔⚔⚔
“We’re here. Don’t embarrass us, and remember what you’re here to do. If you fail you better hope it’s due to your own death.” Sanji nodded, eyes on his hands as he waited for his father to step out of the carriage, knowing he would be the last to leave. He waited until the carriage dipped and rose again, lifting himself from his seat and working to straighten his suit collar and sleeves, touching at his hair as best he could without a mirror to help.
He had no idea what to expect when stepping out, but if he had been given the chance to guess it likely would’ve been something far closer to a rundown oversized barn than what he was greeted with. The castle was enormous. It was far taller than the castle in Germa, and somehow twice as unwelcoming. The castle was made of white rock, each edge carved with a brutality that put his father’s best architects to shame. The castle looked like one of the calcium deposits found in caves, pushed through the ground and into the sky, jagged spires sharp enough to be weapons cutting into the air while the walls came crashing down around them, as large and imposing as mountains. Not to mention-
“That absolutely cannot be safe,” Sanji muttered, eyeing the way the castle hung on the side of a steep cliff, looking like it was one harsh day of wind away from crashing into the village that sat just below. There was no way he’d be able to sleep comfortably at night knowing that’s what he was sleeping on top of.
“I think the castle should be the least of your concerns when it comes to your safety, whelp.” Sanji grimaced as his brother walked passed, not bothering to dodge the fist aimed for his ear. They wouldn’t dare beat him past a few scuffs so close to a wedding they themselves had arranged, but even then he knew better than to avoid a direct attack, it only ever resulted in a worse punishment down the line.
“Maybe you can push him off a balcony, happy accident,” his brother Yonji said, appearing over his other shoulder and speaking far too loudly, making Sanji glance nervously at the attendants walking down the pathway to greet their carriage. “Too bad it would be suspicious to kill him on the first night, you’ll have to survive the marriage consummation before you can start making such lofty plans.”
Sanji scowled at him before turning back to look at the castle with a dark grimace, fully aware the chances of the threat his brother had pointed out weren’t minimal. He had tried not to think too hard about what the first few weeks in a loveless marriage would be; what life would be like in a strange land with no understanding of the rules that would govern him. He had tried, at least, but small fears always managed to sneak in between his resolute denial of his fate.
Small fears like what would happen if the rules he’d learned to protect himself in his own didn’t hold the same in this new place. Whether or not he’d find a way to complete his mission, if he’d get caught, tortured, or worse, tortured so horribly without pause that he never even got to attempt success. He hated to admit it, but his brother wasn’t wrong, he was terrified that his new spouse would be virile and insatiable, indignant to the word no and believing he was owed something through the contract of their agreement. Sanji wouldn’t put it past his father to allow something to that degree being baked into the deal.
“Welcome to castle Myrkvidr, my lords, we’ve been expecting you,” Sanji turned to meet the large eye of a beautiful fawn, bright turquoise hair parted by long, non-threatening brown ears. She looked kind, freckles smattered across her nose and cheeks and hazel eyes that looked the size of dinner plates blinking at the group excitedly. “Forgive me, but which one of you is the groom?”
He was shoved forward, giving him no chance to even lift his hand on his own as he tripped over his feet, stumbling right before her.
“Yes, that is me, my dear. My name is Sanji,” he said as he tried to recover quickly, picking up her hand and bowing deep to kiss it, met by a light, bell-like laugh as she curtsied deep.
“It’s wonderful to meet you, I am the head maid here, Hiyori. I report directly to king Roronoa. You and your family can follow me, the attendants will take your caravan to where you will be staying.”
Hiyori had a strong pride for her work, it appeared, her words confident and voice affectionate as she explained parts of the grounds that they passed as they approached. She nearly made the place sound warm, despite the fact that Sanji was shivering horribly by the time they finally walked through the main door of the castle, the cold biting to his bone as his breath appeared in billowing clouds around him.
“Just through there is the entrance to the throne room.” Sanji glanced at the large double doors, perfectly shaped vines moving inwards towards where they held a constricted raven, the violent image carved into the dark wood, unwelcoming and intimidating in its size. “I believe his majesty is just finishing an audience with a local merchant.”
“He isn’t here to greet us?” Ichiji asked, scorn and affront thick in his voice. Sanji could feel Judge looming behind him, anger starting to sift and crackle between his brothers and his father at the disregard for the importance of their presence. Sanji closed his eyes, begging the universe, any gods listening, for them not to say anything, sure that they would cause a scene right before leaving him there alone to the unknown dangers of the strange place.
“Your majesty, your clothes are so thin, you must be freezing,” Hiyori exclaimed, interrupting the growing dissatisfaction and completely ignoring his brother. The slam of the giant doors made them all jump, turning just in time to catch the large, shadowed presence of what Sanji could only assume was his target, if the way Hiyori immediately dropped into a deep bow or the various attendants scuttling around the man like bees were any indication.
“Usopp,” Hiyori called when she lifted from her acknowledgement of her king, another fawn turning from the collection of escorts surrounding the man and moving over to them without pause. Sanji barely noticed him, however, as the king turned to look at the interruption at the same time, his face entering the light enough for Sanji to make out.
Shit.
“Usopp, would you please take Master Vinsmoke to find some more appropriate clothing?” Hiyori requested. The fawn that had approached bowed to her before walking right into Sanji’s line of sight, breaking his gaze from the burning white-gray eyes he’d been locked with. He blinked twice, remembering to close his mouth as he smiled weakly, dipping his head in greeting to the man in front of him.
“You can come with me,” the fawn said, bowing lower than Sanji had as he stretched his arm out in indication of where he wanted Sanji to walk. He couldn’t help himself from looking back to where Roronoa stood, surprised when he found the space completely abandoned, his gaze skirting until it landed on the man’s receding form where he was disappearing deeper into the castle, black fur lined cloak flowing behind him.
“Come, before you catch your death.” Sanji followed along, frowning as the image of the man he was to kill conjured itself in his mind again. He knew that Roronoa Zoro was a king of darkness, that he was supposed to be a formidable foe and one of the strongest rulers on the mainland. He had studied the man carefully through the blatant threats his brothers had teased him with and what little information he could glean from their royal libraries the few times he’d been able to sneak into them.
He hadn’t found himself prepared to find the demon handsome. There had been no portraits available in any of the literature he read, only vague and poorly formed theories of some unknown mythic power that Sanji only knew as the biggest threat to his plan’s success. He was handsome, though, sharp cheekbones and a strong brow aiding heavily, contrasted by a surprisingly soft nose, full lips, and three golden earrings that distracted from the ugly scar through his left eye. His disarming green hair was parted by horns so dark they looked to be made of night itself that curved down to accentuate the natural symmetry he possessed.
He looked strong, he'd been wearing a shirt without sleeves that displayed the size of his arms, which were covered in scars and what looked like thick black tattoos that ran like smoke and water across his skin. They had nearly looked like they were moving, but Sanji was fairly certain that had just been the way the man's large muscles jumped from the slightest twitch of movement. Least to say, he was well muscled and likely not easily overpowered, and Sanji felt a panic filling his chest with the realization that he might be a little in over his head.
Handsome wasn’t going to distract him, necessarily, he knew better than most that appearance often held little precedent over virtue. He was a member of one of what was thought to be the strongest and most loyal royal families in any land, after all. His family were masters in keeping up appearances to take advantage of that very belief. Still, he found himself a little less disappointed in his fate just from the small moment of eye contact between him and his fiancee, and that feeling in of itself spelled trouble. He needed to keep himself from growing distracted from his course, he couldn’t afford sparing his target any ounce of goodwill, not when he knew he would need to kill him by the end of it all.
Hopefully it would at least make some of the less desirable parts of this arrangement a little easier to deal with. As long as he could keep himself separate. His goal was the only thing that mattered, in the end, because if he succeeded, he would be free. And more importantly, if he failed… he would be dead. Or worse.
⚔⚔⚔
Usopp, who had introduced himself as the head butler before starting to mutter under his breath to himself, had brought him to a tailor, to Sanji’s surprise. The man had been efficient and precise, and less than an hour later Sanji was left standing in the tailor’s room wearing heavy white fabric that nearly replicated the thin burlap rags he’d been wearing before. Nearly, with the exception of their quality, Sanji feeling frozen by the luxury of the material he wore, heavy wool replacing the scratch of the threadbare clothing he’d worn in, almost too soft for his skin.
A knock on the door made him finally put his arms down, despite being completely alone in the room. The shoulder cape fell into place around his arms, the fur at its base surprising him with its ability to keep him far warmer than he had been before. “Come in.”
“Ah, I see you’re a bit better equipped for our seasons, now,” the butler said with a shy grin. He had a nervous gait to him that made Sanji a bit anxious in turn, his eyes drifting around the room to look for whatever threat Usopp was seeing.
“This way, then,” Usopp said after a moment of oddly tense silence between the two of them. Sanji followed his direction, their shoes clipping against the stone floor and echoing in the hallways as the two made their way back into the main body of the castle.
“Where are we going?” Sanji asked, brow rising when the fawn’s shoulders jumped in surprise, his words having clearly startled the man. He seemed oddly nervous, like he was always ready for a hand to fall against him. Sanji wondered if he was used to unprovoked punishment, if his king was the kind to take his annoyance or boredom out on his subjects at a whim. His heart bled for the butler. He knew the kind. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, apologies your majesty, just a bit jumpy today, I guess,” Usopp said, his eyes darting to the side to glance at Sanji before flying back to watch the hallway ahead of them. “It’s been a busy day preparing for your family’s arrival, and I wasn’t expecting such an important role. A little case of stranger-itis.”
Sanji hummed in understanding, sure that this house had done their own research on the Vinsmoke’s the same as Sanji had done with their king. They likely knew of the bloody wars his father had waged, of the way he threw his subjects into his enemies weapons like fodder. They probably had an idea about the chemical weapons Germa had developed, even if they didn’t realize to what extent they really existed. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the butler was likely a bit unnerved at being left alone with him. He was a Vinsmoke, afterall, to them.
“It’s been a long day, do you know what the agenda is for the rest of the evening at all?” Sanji asked, having to pick up his pace to keep up with the butler’s quick steps. Usopp didn’t bother answering, pushing open a smaller door and ushering Sanji in.
It was clearly a meeting room, Sanji would have been able to tell that even if his entire family and his new king weren’t sitting across from each other at a table, papers scattered between them and a few empty cups on either side. Sanji met his father’s eye as the entire group turned to see who had entered, Judge standing from his chair, followed closely by Sanji’s brothers.
“He’s all yours, then. We will see you again on the first day of spring.” Sanji watched with a frown at the way the demon king leaned back in his own seat, crossing his arms against his chest as he nodded his silent agreement. Judge walked to the door, not bothering to pay Sanji any attention as he forced his way past him and through the door, his brothers following right after him without a word. Sanji glanced at where Usopp stood at attention by the door, finding him to be no help. He turned back to the room again, gaze flitting between the other three people still at the table.
Roronoa was sitting just how he had been, completely ignoring Sanji’s presence, a furrow in his brow like he was deep in thought as he scowled at the table. There was a smaller woman next to him, orange hair parted by soft looking cat ears. She was looking directly at him, her chin resting on her palm as she watched him with scrutinizing eyes, one of her ears flicking in a sign of irritation. Hiyori was at Roronoa’s back, a hand against his shoulder, the intimate touch a shock to Sanji coming from a servant.
“What’s happening?” Sanji finally braved, willing to risk the potential punishment if it got him any information on why his family had just walked out of the room as if to leave for good. To his understanding he would be having a wedding the next day that his father would have to be present for to ensure the deal, they had told him he would be married within the week. He had had a plan.
“It’s customary here to wed in the spring. Your family agreed to wait and honour tradition on the condition that the trade agreement is enacted beginning today, and that they would get to leave you here in our care. They were rather adamant that we have time to be acquainted.” Sanji’s eyes widened, surprised both by the words said and the voice that spoke them, soft and low like moonlight. He watched as Roronoa stood from his chair, meeting his intimidating gaze with his best attempt at a glare that displayed his discontent with the breadth of the man’s answer.
“I am Zoro Roronoa, welcome to my home,” the man said instead, as if Sanji wasn’t well aware. There was no point in introductions when he was nothing more to the man than goods and services rendered on a piece of paper. Sanji didn’t deign to answer him, remaining adamantly silent and testing his luck in avoiding his first beating within the walls of his new home. He couldn’t help but to curse his family for leaving him knowing his fate had just been altered to include close to four months of weathering the whims of the man in front of him before he would be able to kill him.
They had told him he would have to wait a few months before he could kill the man without suspicion, that he would have to earn the trust of the staff and the house as a whole if he were to retain the kingdom following Roronoa’s death. Now a month had turned into nearly half of a year, and his plans were spiralling in front of his eyes as his target’s steady gaze bore into his own.
“Hiyori,” Zoro said, having to say no more for the maid to jump to action. Sanji watched as Roronoa walked past him without another word, disappearing silently through the door as the woman who’d still been sitting at the table finally stood and walked briskly after him, an eye watching Sanji with disdain as she walked past.
“Come, Master Vinsmoke, I will show you to your new chambers,” Hiyori said, moving gracefully to the door and putting a hand out in indication for him to leave first.
“Sanji, please, my dear,” Sanji corrected, feeling the itch of that name against the back of his neck like fire ants. Hiyori smiled at him, bowing her head in understanding as he walked in front of her, back into the hallway.
Hiyori directed him back towards the main hall, the two walking rather slowly as she pointed out a few of the rooms, giving him an impromptu tour. It was all rather cordial, nice, even, until they reached the stairs. Hiyori, having run out of rooms to point at and name, switched to less formal conversation without hesitation.
“You are very lucky to get to take the Roronoa name, your majesty,” she said as they walked, giving him a genuine smile that he couldn’t bring himself to reciprocate. “Many of us in this kingdom alone would jump at such a chance. He is a good man.”
“I’m sure,” Sanji said indifferently, looking around himself for something of subject to shift conversation to, sure that he’d say something rash with the way his family had just left him to fend in enemy territory if Hiyori continued talking about the man he didn’t want to marry.
“You coming here was not by your own choice, correct?” Hiyori said abruptly, making Sanji pause in surprise. They were still climbing stairs, otherwise he was sure he would have bolted into the nearest room and locked himself away for the next month. He needed to appear pledged to the union no matter what he was feeling internally, otherwise his alibi of loving widower would be thrown out the window with the bath water.
“I-,”
“Here, your majesty,” Hiyori interrupted, pulling him to a stall in front of a door set into the staircase. It looked threatening, the door covered in iron bars like a cell door, nothing like what he would expect from the door of a royal chamber, let alone the odd location. It didn’t even look large enough for King Roronoa’s height to move through comfortably, barely taller than Sani himself.
His confusion only mounted when Hiyori opened the door to reveal a large parlour filled with furniture that had been covered in thin sheets, dust filtering through the light that streamed through large windows. It was luxurious despite its state of abandon, rich emeralds and teals used on all of the visible furniture and decor, handsomely contrasted by dark oak support beams that sat against the stone walls. Whoever had decorated the space had put thought into it, but it clearly hadn’t been touched in some time.
“Does King Roronoa not use his own sitting room?” Sanji asked, met by an immediate tittering laugh from Hiyori, who stepped forward into the room towards the larger doors at the back, immersed in her own mirth.
“This is not King Roronoa’s chambers, your majesty,” she said, making Sanji’s brow raise in surprise. If he was being entirely honest, he had been expecting the treatment of a concubine, fully aware of his status, that he was nothing more than an aspect of a barter between kingdoms. This room was anything but that, a complete reversal of his expectations, and Hiyori was laughing at his assumption.
“Here we are, Master Sanji,” Hiyori said, throwing open the door to reveal a rather luxurious bed chamber. “We have already cleaned this room, apologies for not finishing your parlor before your arrival.”
“I don’t understand,” Sanji muttered, brow furrowing in confusion. How was he to gain the house’s trust and kill his betrothed if he was cast to the far reaches of the castle?
“You see, King Roronoa wasn’t looking for a spouse when he and your father began negotiations, your majesty,” Hiyori said excitedly, smiling wide as if the news were a good thing. “He has plenty of opportunities for marriage from any class, but your father insisted, so despite his years of adamence in remaining unwed, he agreed. We are in great need of access to the sea, after all.”
“He does not want to wed me,” Sanji repeated, sinking realization making him feel rather ill as he walked into the bed chambers, taking a seat on one of the chairs that sat in front of a large fireplace.
“I’m afraid we were all rather taken aback to learn of his sudden engagement, your majesty, however we’re all glad you’re here now. King Roronoa has made it clear that it is nothing but a signed agreement for both of you, or at least that was our understanding,” she said, something flashing in her eyes that made Sanji bristle the slightest. “Since that was our understanding, King Roronoa instructed us to have this wing made up for you, its last occupent was rather fond of the ocean so he thought you might find it to your liking. We are to wait on you with the same attention we do him, you will be happy here, your majesty, and treated with respectbfor your position.”
Sanji felt humiliated. He had just been told that it wasn’t even worth bothering, and that he was an unwelcome, even unwanted aspect of the entire arrangement. It made him out to be some starry eyed fool, and he was no damn starry eyed fool. It worried him, too, especially seeing the way Hiyori seemed to light at the chance of gossip. She gave him a pity filled smile, one that made his hackles rise even as he forced himself to reciprocate, never one to reject even pity from a woman.
“If I may be so improper,” she said, waiting a beat for Sanji to nod his assent before continuing, “I believe it would not be unpopular for you to live here as you would have back home. His majesty would not be insulted were you to court outside of the castle, you will not have to worry about any duties of a husband. I will see to them myself to ensure his happiness.”
Sanji kept his face neutral, almost thankful for the years of learning how to control his reactions to avoid further antagonizing just for that moment. He knew that Hiyori was trying to offer him a kindness, doing her best to set any of his anxieties to the side, but the handmaid clearly had a certain affinity for her king that sat outside the realm of her duties, and the image that she painted with the meaning of her words was one that made his pride smart, an overlaying irritation of what he knew was necessary to do for his freedom surprisingly marrying well to an odd competitiveness he felt, being told that he would fail if he chose to pursue Roronoa.
“I am not one to shirk responsibility,” he said carefully, trying to keep his shoulders straight as he stood from the chair he was sat in. “I understand the agreement between our kingdoms, and the expectations of my position. While I am new to this house, I know that I may not recognize its intricacies or customs yet. However, I would like to remind you that I am to marry your king in only a few months. That is not a light statement where I come from, my lady, and I will choose not to treat it as such.”
Hiyori’s eyes grew wide at his sudden verbosity, likely recognizing that she had misstepped somewhere in the conversation. Sanji watched as her face was sealed over with careful professionalism, her shock dropping into a controlled smile as her eyes turned to disarming crescents. “I understand perfectly, your majesty. It is good to know that someone who cares so much for our king's dignity is joining our house. Is the room to your liking?”
“It is,” Sanji smiled, feeling a bit sheepish for having said something with such conviction to her. It was the perfect start to his cover, though, he knew it had to be done. “I appreciate all of your care in welcoming me today, my dear. You’ve been quite attentive.”
“Of course! We’re happy to finally have you here. I suppose I should have asked if you have any questions yourself,” she said, cocking her head to the side, her large ears doing wonders to make her the perfect picture of innocence. She was clearly interested in taking her leave. Sanji couldn’t help but to agree with her, knowing that the fawn was likely not to be an ally of his given her dedication to her king, he would likely gather nothing of use from her unless he could convince her of some deep adoration shared between himself and Roronoa. Which would require some form of presence from the king in question.
“It’s been a rather long day for me, I believe that I have what I require for the evening,” he said, watching relief sink into Hiyori’s eyes. She curtsied, mumbling a goodbye before seeing herself from the room, leaving him alone to take in his new home with greater attention. He started with his luggage, which had been brought in before his arrival, beginning to unpack his belongings onto the rather large bed. Given the multiple changes of plans throughout the day, this was one of the most luxurious spaces Sanji had ever been in, and if that was what he would be expected to weather through in order to fulfill his mission, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Even if his work was cut out for him. He couldn’t help but be a little thankful that the king seemed to want nothing to do with him, even if it inexplicably infuriated him at the same time. When he’d initially been told of his engagement, he had immediately imagined an old, pot-bellied glutton of cruel king with balding hair and greedy hands, and he had felt disgust knowing that he would likely have to entertain such a man under a pretense of affection.
This, however, was anything but what he had imagined, he had been given more than comfortable lodgings of his own, and it appeared there was no expectation or truly no express desire for him to share a bed with the unexpectedly bewitching man he was betrothed to. It was likely one of the best outcomes he could have asked for, really, except for one fact. That was that Roronoa had no interest in him, and if Sanji were to kill the man and take his kingdom in a way that wouldn’t submit him to a coup by the next morning, it was necessary to establish some pretense of love.
Which, apparently, would be far more difficult than he had initially expected. In fact, he may truly have no choice but to put in the work to court the unapproachable king. Sanji had never had issue with flirting favor in his way, he’d made it through many a night of survival in his father’s kingdom by appealing to the guards or handmaid's that kept him in his prison, walking the perfect line of keeping himself from being pursued while managing to get a meal for the day, or water. It might take some effort to garner time with his target, however he was confident that once he did, he would have no trouble in earning the man’s favor. He knew how to play a lie, he’d done it his entire life.
He would kill Roronoa Zoro come springtime, and he would do it right.