Chapter Text
A shimmer of blue followed his fingers through the darkness, flames dancing between each of his knuckles like silk, bursting to a bright fiery glow like a dragon's tongue as it left his hand before disappearing into the air above him.
“Didn’t I tell you to cut that out?”
Sanji jumped near clean out of his skin, groaning when he realized who had been standing behind him silently, just waiting for him to make a mistake.
“Didn’t I tell you I’m careful, you shitty geezer?” he grumbled, turning to glare darkly at his father. Zeff raised an eyebrow, thick arms crossed over his chest in reproach as he pushed himself off of the wall where he’d been spying on Sanji from, walking over to where he sat on his straw mattress.
“Clearly. It’s only the most careful and secretive men I know who leave their door wide open,” Zeff said blandly, Sanji flinching as his eyes darted to his bedroom door, quickly trying to remember if he’d closed it or not.
“It won’t happen again,” he relented, putting his hands up innocently. Zeff grunted his disbelief, continuing to stand in front of Sanji as if he was waiting for something as ridiculous as an apology. “Why’re you here, old man?”
“Figured you’d be interested in helping me with prep before you leave for work?” Zeff said, a fond glint in his eye as Sanji sat up straighter, almost annoyed at how easily that specific offer worked. He stood, finishing the last of the morning preparations he’d been avoiding for the past twenty minutes in seconds, turning to nod at Zeff who snorted in response.
“Y’know it would be easier if you just gave up already and allowed me to work in the kitchens with you,” Sanji grumbled, picking up his shitty decorative sword from next to the doorway as he made his way out into the main living room.
“You’re not working anywhere near a kitchen until you learn to cook without that damn magic,” Zeff growled, Sanji rolling his eyes with a sigh. He’d heard it a million times before, had asked the question even more, but he still hated the answer. Knighting just wasn’t that interesting to him, especially the lower ranking glorified watchmen knighting he did. It, frankly, was a complete drag. “You know I wish you could use it whenever you want. But it’s not safe, Eggplant.”
Sanji sighed, knowing that Zeff was right, as much as he hated to admit it. But when he was in the kitchen he just couldn’t bring himself to use the uncontrolled fires the rest of the chefs cooked with. It was just so… medieval, and if Sanji was able to take a curse and use it to make some of the best damn food in the world, the most tenderly cooked meat imaginable, well then he was going to do it. Safety and secrecy be damned.
“Today’s the remembrance ceremony, is it not?” Zeff asked after a moment of childish silence from Sanji. He groaned at the reminder, hanging his head back in added dramatism. “Are you sure you have time to help?”
“They won’t miss me if I’m a few minutes late. The whole damn guard is in the castle on Remembrance Day, I’ll just slip in whenever we finish up. The only people that will miss me are Usopp and Luffy, and they’d never tell,” Sanji promised, giving Zeff as close to pleading eyes as he dared. The old man wasn’t one to fall for something like attempted endearment, but every once in a while it didn’t hurt to try.
“Alright. You can help me with preparations for the feast tonight, then. Only long enough to get a few stocks started. Vegetable duty, got it? No fire,” Zeff stated pointedly. Sanji clicked his tongue in annoyance, not bothering to argue when he knew just what was at stake. If he fought back Zeff was likely to take back everything, forcing him to go straight to work instead.
He kept his mouth shut, following Zeff through the dark hallways leading towards the castle’s kitchens. It wasn’t far, as the head chef Zeff had been given the closest quarters to the kitchens and both he and Sanji knew how to get there easily even before the torches had been lit for the day. Once they’d found their way into the kitchen Sanji lifted his hand, ready to light one of the torches in the most convenient way he knew how, only for his arm to get smacked in warning.
“Don’t you dare, Squirt.” Sanji scoffed, annoyed that Zeff knew him well enough to have guessed exactly what he was doing despite the pitch blackness they were operating in.
“Fine, just hurry up and light the fire, then. Gods only know where you left the flint this time,” Sanji complained, feeling precious seconds of his morning being wasted. He felt his way over to the pantry, opening it and feeling around for anything recognizable, finding a handful of carrots that he carried blindly back into the kitchen, the fire still nowhere close to lit. He huffed, rolling his eyes as he walked back over to the table, setting down his supplies and glancing around the room, trying to feel for the presence of anyone who could possibly be hiding in the shadows of the corners.
When he was absolutely certain no one was there he walked quickly over to where Zeff was knelt over the hearth, cracking the flint and steel against each other to no avail. He quickly knelt down, reaching in towards the fresh logs and snapping, crackling magic flame flying into the logs. If by the smallest chance Sanji was wrong, and there was someone lurking somewhere in the shadows of the room, it would be easy enough to write off the spark as having originated from the flint and steel his father held.
“You stupid brat,” Zeff yelled, scuffing Sanji on the side of the head hard enough to make him hiss, his eyes darting towards the doorway for fear of Zeff’s voice carrying to anyone standing close enough to hear. “What did I tell you?”
“You were taking too long,” Sanji defended, walking over to where a torch sat in an iron sconce on the wall. He picked it up, carrying it over to where the fire had caught and was burning brightly, ignoring Zeff’s death glare as he went about lighting it in the traditional, Zeff approved, method. “There, see? Doing everything normal now. And no one died.”
“It’s not about anyone dying, Eggplant, it’s about-”
“I know!” Sanji interrupted, his voice stronger than he intended. He turned to Zeff, a hand to his forehead in frustration as he took a deep breath, trying to cool his temper before it grew out of control. Zeff was only trying to protect him. He knew that. “I’ve only heard it every day for the past twelve years.”
“Listen, kid, I know it’s difficult. You shouldn’t pay for the sins of your father-”
“He’s not my father,” Sanji interrupted, Zeff’s lip curling fondly at the pointed words.
“Still, it’s not your fault, what he chose to do. But it is how it is, it’s life, and there’s only one lineage in the world that can use fire magic. One family that’s been whittled down to an infamous half dozen. Anyone who sees you would know in an instant,” Zeff explained, putting a hand to Sanji’s shoulder and squeezing gently. “There are only a few in this castle I would call friend enough to choose you over the bounty on your head.”
A sickness filled Sanji’s chest, the same feeling that hit him every time he was faced with the truth of his conditions. He knew that Zeff was right, knew that if anyone outside of his most trusted friends saw his magic he’d be dragged back to the bowels of Germa in an instant. It wasn’t his fault that Judge had gone and murdered anyone with the gift of fire outside of their immediate family, and it wasn’t his fault that the monster had made a bad bet when he’d left Sanji in that forest for the wolves.
Judge wouldn’t have ever discovered he was even alive, as it was, if it weren’t for a shitty snot nosed kid that had peeled potatoes at Zeff’s old bar. The dumb ass had seen Sanji light a fire to boil water and he’d ran, squealing like a pig through the streets of the village Sanji had been living in happily for close to five years, giving Zeff and him no choice but to flee to where neither of them were known and away from the only place he’d ever felt at home. But, of course Judge had still heard, and bounties had started to appear within weeks.
They weren’t bounties for him- small blessings. Instead they were bounties just like the ones that had appeared thirty years ago, when Judge had first taken power in his family. The bounties promised the wealth of kings to anyone who could bring the family of Germa any wielder of fire magic. The last thing Judge wanted to do was connect Sanji to his name, and the one thing that still connected them, besides his shitty eyebrows, was his ability to harness fire magic. So rather than the third son of Germa, he was simply a stranger who could weild fire.
“Yeah,” Sanji agreed sullenly, staring at the fire he’d started moments before. “Yeah, I know you’re right. And I know how bad it would be if someone saw again. I promise, I really won’t let anyone see me.”
“Intention doesn’t always work out the way you want it to, son,” Zeff sighed, Sanji feeling a wince of guilt from the term of endearment. Zeff only really used it when he was worried. “It’s best not to take any chances. So go ahead and use a real knife and real boiled water and get working on those carrots.”
⍅⎯⎯⎯⎯⍆
“With twelve years having passed since we lost our kingdom’s heart, we feel the emptiness of her absence with even greater weight than any year before. Today she has been gone longer than she was ever with us-”
Sanji creeped through the crowd of knights that were standing at the base of the thrones, slinking his way through the throng of bodies as quietly as he could until he’d made it to where Usopp and Luffy were standing stiffly among the others. Sanji took his place, standing confidently with his back straight and his shoulders tall as if he’d been there the entire time.
“You’re going to get in so much trouble,” Usopp whispered through the corner of his mouth, not even turning to look at Sanji for fear of being seen falling out of line.
“No one will even notice I was gone,” Sanji argued quietly, standing in correct form, his hand on the decorative sword at his hip. “Even if you tell them.”
“I wasn’t going to,” Usopp whined, his voice defensive at the very idea. Sanji grinned, shaking his head fondly. Usopp kicked him gently in the ankle, casting him a sidelong glance out of the corner of his eye. “I’m telling you, the King is worse than previous years. And the Prince looks like he’s ready to tear something… or someone, limb from limb.”
“When does he not look like that,” Sanji snorted, Usopp stifling laughter next to him. “I have no idea how Luffy does it.”
Sanji was tempted to look over his shoulder to check if their commander, Garp, was trying to burn a hole through their backs like he half expected he was. Garp had a habit of turning the knights who misbehaved into training practice when they worked on archery, apple on their head and all.
“Don’t worry, he’s not even here,” Usopp whispered, Sanji lifting an eyebrow in surprise. He couldn’t remember a day of remembrance in years that Garp hadn’t been hands on, losing his mind and shouting about how it was their job to make King Koushirou’s day as easy as possible. It was one of the worst days of the year to be a knight, specifically for the fear of Garp’s wrath.
“Where is he?” Sanji asked with a frown, scanning the room to find quite a few of the more important members of the castle staff missing. He hadn’t noticed the difference in the room to other years since he’d snuck in trying his best to go unnoticed, but now that he was there something felt… off.
“Something popped up on the Northern border,” Usopp whispered, “they had to go scout, I guess it was important enough that Garp is getting eyes on it. I think he came back a few hours ago and now everyone’s in the war room. Not looking good.”
“Damn,” Sanji said, feeling a spike of fear. He and Zeff had arrived in the castle five years ago, and in that time there had never been a real conflict in the kingdom that the villages couldn’t handle themselves. When he’d been placed as a knight he’d been hopeful that he’d avoid any form of real combat, but whatever had happened that had pulled them all away on Remembrance Day, of all days, didn’t sound good whatsoever for his chances.
“We will move into the three hours of contemplation, to remember what has been taken far too soon, to remember what we had, and to remember what we will still have,” the king said, his voice shaking. Sanji glanced over his shoulder, too tempted by the lack of supervision to finally see what Usopp had been talking about.
King Koushirou’s face was as stony as ever, flat and emotionless despite the significance of the day, the significance to him personally. Sanji could see what Usopp meant, though, the look in the king’s eye was something between anguish and hatred, and the tremor of his voice gave away what his face and posture refused to. If Sanji had to guess, there wasn’t a single person in the entire throne room who was convinced.
He’d never known the king before his daughter had died, but from what it sounded like the castle had been very different. The kingdom altogether had been different. Usopp had painted him images of laughter, color, far more happiness than had ever been there in the time Sanji had.
His eyes lifted past the king, eyeing where the prince was sitting listlessly in his throne, legs thrown improperly over its arm and his face hardened with anger that made Sanji want to roll his eyes. If there was one thing that he knew with entire certainty from the time he’d lived in the castle, it was that the prince was a spoiled, entitled asshole. No matter what Luffy said to the contrary.
He seemed more tense than usual, as well. At first glance he looked almost too relaxed, lazy and entitled like usual, but Sanji could see the bunching of his cheek that came from grinding teeth, the way he was perfectly positioned to jump to his feet despite the appearance of relaxation. He could see the fury in the glint of his eye even from a greater distance, could feel the spark of a fire he knew intimately. It came from the same source as his own magic.
The door to the hall opened suddenly, both the king and the prince’s attention caught immediately as they looked to where Garp had just entered, his eyes immediately on them. Koushirou’s face fell the smallest bit, something complicated flashing across his face before he turned to address the room again, his gaze hardening and his voice like an axe. “Dismissed.”
There was immediate movement, the entire room clearing quickly, the townsfolk and nobles who had been permitted to attend the holiday the first to leave, confusion marring their faces. The knights were less quick to move, everyone looking around for some form of direction until Garp finally cleared his throat from the doorway. “Out!”
“Luffy,” the prince commanded from the throne, Sanji having to keep himself from casting an unimpressed look at the green haired man. He didn’t understand his and Luffy’s friendship, Luffy had nothing but good to say about the guy, but it seemed like he took Luffy entirely for granted. He only seemed to speak to him in one or two words, and he seemed to demand far more of Luffy’s time than was appropriate for the pay he received.
“Yeah, I wasn’t going anywhere!” Luffy said cheerfully, walking half way up the steps leading up to the throne and sitting down without any decorum. One of the few perks of being the prince’s personal guard, from what Sanji could tell. Luffy seemed to be able to act on any of his various whims without any form of consequence, despite Garp’s constant threats. He was certain it had something to do with the royal family’s command.
He and Usopp made their way out of the throne room, filing in behind the rest of the knights as they headed to their respective stations, a commanding officer appearing to yell out instructions in regards to remembrance day. They were all required to light an incense at the princess’s altar at the entrance of the castle, and they were told not to speak unless out of necessity, to instead spend their day in contemplation. Out of respect.
Sanji hated remembrance day. It was no way to remember a person, especially someone like the crown princess had been, from what he’d been told. Everyone seemed afraid to speak about her within the walls of the castle, despite everything they had to say being gushing compliments. It was horrible.
“The conflict must be escalating,” Usopp whispered as the two of them walked to their usual station. “Fuck, I’m not ready for war! Do you think if I tell them I got injured, maybe start acting like it, I can get out of going? Or at least put back behind the frontline somewhere?”
“I can injure you, if you want,” Sanji offered, the quiet squeal of fear from his friend making him laugh.
“Shh, Sanji! If they hear you laughing you’ll end up in the stockade for a week,” Usopp warned, his voice holding genuine concern. Sanji scoffed at the ridiculousness of it, shaking his head.
“This entire day is ridiculous,” he complained quietly, Usopp growing tense as his head whipped around to make sure no one was in earshot.
“Sanji, that’s blasphemy!” he hissed, Sanji rolling his eyes as he leaned against the wall of the hallway they were stationed in.
“Isn’t remembrance supposed to be a little more… full of memories? But they won’t allow any images of her anywhere. The King doesn’t talk about her at all… it seems like the Prince doesn’t even care about the day. It just seems like a day of disrespect, every year, like they do it just because they feel like they have to. Shouldn’t her life be celebrated? Even my kingd-,” he cut himself off, his mouth screwing into a frown. Stupid Germa.
“I agree, but Sanji you’ve got to be careful what you say, especially if it has anything to do with the Princess,” Usopp warned in a hushed voice. “The loss was sudden and unexpected, and she was the most, well, emotionally mature of the royal family. And that isn’t saying much. The King never moved on, he won’t face it.”
“Clearly,” Sanji scoffed, swearing the air itself appeared somber and dreary.
“She really was an incredible person,” Usopp noted, crossing his arms as his gaze remained fixed on the wall across from them. “It was a loss for more than just the royal family. Zoro was different back then, too.”
Sanji raised an eyebrow, surprised by the casual use of the prince’s first name. No one but Luffy was allowed such familiarity, to his understanding, yet Usopp used it as if he said it constantly. As if he cared enough about the guy to call him anything other than ‘the Prince’ or ‘His Highness’.
Garp appeared in the hallway before he was able to pry, his footsteps loud and angry as he stormed down the hall, both Usopp and Sanji standing at attention quickly, their lips sealed tightly and their eyes staring straight ahead. Sanji braced himself for the knight commander to storm by, the childhood memory of a similar presence of anger always something that left Sanji with a layer of discomfort.
Instead, though, the commander came to a halt in front of them, Sanji feeling the blood drain from his face as he wondered which of the knights that had been standing near them had opened their shitty mouths, quietly swearing he would get his vengeance if he ever found out, even as every worst case scenario ran through his head. He was so screwed.
“Black-Leg Sanji?” Garp asked, Sanji nodding stiffly. “Zeff’s kid?”
Sanji blinked in surprise, forcing his eyes to remain looking forward like decorum demanded despite his temptation to read Garp’s expression. He nodded again after a halted pause, Garp grumbling something under his breath that he couldn’t catch.
“Come with me, then.”
Sanji could hear Usopp audibly gulp next to him, feeling a similar amount of trepidation as he nodded again, stepping forward and finally looking to Garp for direction. The commander looked irritated, his face flat and stony, giving away nothing and heightening Sanji’s concern threefold. He turned, beginning to walk quickly and with the same anger that he’d stormed down the hallway to them with, Sanji having to realize quickly that he was expected to follow without question.
He ran a few steps to catch up, falling in line behind the older man as he tried to think of what had been overheard in the throne room, trying to remember who had been standing near them at the time. Garp hadn’t had time to hear anything from when Sanji had been speaking freely to Usopp, luckily, but what they’d said in the throne room could likely still be reason for consequence.
“I’m not sure what you’ve been told, sir, but I swear that we-”
“Shut up,” Garp instructed, Sanji doing just that despite the itching at the back of his neck telling him to plead his case, to do everything to stay as out of sight and out of mind as possible. If Garp wasn’t already planning on killing him, then Zeff surely would when he heard.
He stopped in his tracks when Garp was suddenly opening the throne room doors, staring in horror as he walked through the doorway. Garp turned when the door started to close behind him, fixing Sanji with a sharp glare that he swore could have been able to set him on fire, were the commander to have any of the Vinsmoke blood. “What the hell are you doing, brat? You don’t keep the King waiting.”
“Sir,” Sanji breathed, stepping forward quickly through the door and standing to the side, his heart beating double time in his chest. Garp walked past him, making a motion that indicated that he was expected to continue following. Sanji cursed up a storm internally, not for the first time wishing he knew how to hold his damn tongue.
“Your Highness,” Garp said, his voice holding no small amount of uncertainty, to Sanji’s surprise. “With all due respect, I do not believe my grandson was-”
“I don’t care what you think, old man.” Sanji looked up in surprise, finding Garp addressing the prince, rather than the king who was sitting entirely listlessly in his throne, not paying attention in the slightest. “Luffy chose. You won’t change my mind.”
Sanji lifted a brow, trying to decipher the meaning of the conversation happening in front of them through the slight surprise of the rudeness the prince was speaking to Garp with. If he was a knight he’d have been hospitalized already.
“You’re certain? I have worked to highly train-”
“Enough. It doesn’t matter, I don’t need this in the first place. There’s no difference who it is, if it’s not Luffy,” he said, standing from his seat and marching down the stairs. “The fact that you won’t let me lead the army is insult enough, I would be careful taking the chance of insulting my intelligence, as well.”
“Your Highness-,” Garp started, the prince lifting his hand to silence him as he walked past, shocking Sanji even further as he turned, taking a moment to size him up.
“Come on, then,” he said, walking towards the entrance to the hall with long, confident strides. Sanji sat motionless, puzzled beyond belief, only for Garp to shove him in the back harshly, making him stumble forward.
“ Don’t fuck this up, kid,” he instructed, Sanji glancing over his shoulder to find Garp glaring murder at him, the king sitting behind him with his forehead in his hand, slouched over in his throne.
Sanji turned around again, walking quickly behind the prince, his eyes watching the way the robe he wore billowed behind him with the swiftness of his stride. He had never been so close to anyone in the royal family before, and suddenly he was following the prince around while the bastard completely ignored him and stormed out of the room.
What the fuck had Luffy done?