Never before had I seen anything quite like it. 

Throughout my years, I had seen many a joust and many a spar, but something was vastly different about the battle raging in the ring before me. 

This was supposed to be sport. A game. Nothing more and nothing less, for the entertainment of the people. A brutal pass time, if I were to describe it, but my father took great joy in watching tourneys of death. 

This man, silver from head to toe, was the most fearsome monster I had ever laid eyes upon. The only natural part of him seemed to be the golden mane flowing from the backside of his helm, like a river of riches. 

What was it now? His ninth opponent? Tenth? All who had faced him had yielded, and I couldn't blame a single one of them. The mysterious fighter had allowed for them to step from the dusty ring with their lives, but that didn't mean his fighting style was merciful. 

He struck, and struck hard. Drying blood clotted the dirt at their feet, smearing and scattering amidst dancing boots and sparking swords. Well, in his case, scythes. 

It was an odd choice of weapon for a man in armour. Twin scythes, like singular talons attached to a grip in his hands. They were almost graceful, if not so spine-chillingly violent. 

"Scared, Your Grace?" My father's hand leant in towards my ear, his voice not even attempting to hide his amusement. 
"Hardly." I scoffed, unable to take my eyes off the men down below, one yet again pinned in defeat and given the time to yield and flee. "Honestly, Ser Lucci, I've been bearing witness to such things since I could sit upright. Just because I dislike them doesn't mean I'm scared." 

Ser Rob Lucci, royal advisor and hand of the King. A decade my senior, he'd just always been around. My handmaidens and I often called him the King's Cat. He had a sort of feline elegance about him, but unlike many, I knew for a fact he had the claws to match. 

"My apologies, Your Grace, though I wouldn't blame you if it were the case. That warrior down there seems hardly human." Lucci continued, leaning back into his seat as he watched on. "It should somewhat please you that I did suggest something a little more tasteful for your name day, but alas, you know your dear father. This is his idea of a celebration." 

I knew it all too well, but I had to appreciate his attempt. All I had really wanted for my eighteenth name day was to spend the morning in the garden, watching the birds and the beetles. Not watching men bleed from deep gashes. 

"May I humbly present our reigning champion, Captain of the Marineford Royal Guard, Ser Borsalino!" Hearing the announcement of that name had me rolling my eyes. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't understand how somebody so painfully slow of wit could be head of the Royal Guard. 

The cheers were deafening, and I reached to cover my ears as that lazy-faced good for nothing strutted to stand in front of our platform, bowing to my father. 
"My good King, Royal Highness Sakazuki. It's an honour to fight for your pleasure this fine morning." 

Ugh, kiss-ass... 

My father, King Sakazuki, ruler of the Grand Realms and slayer of filth. He had earned the title 'The Red Dog of Justice' prior to taking the throne, after years of warring throughout the realm. It had been he who had seized the throne out from under the previous ruler, King Edward Newgate. 

"Ser Borsalino." My father nodded once, chin resting upon his hand. "Do you think you have what it takes to show this gentry, or whatever he is, what for?" For once he seemed entertained. Well, not quite entertained. Less bored, at least. 

A smirk spread across Borsalino's lips before he lowered his faceplate. 
"It would be my honour, Your Grace..." I was honestly rather worried about the newcomer. He was a good fighter, that was true, but Borsalino, the 'Speed of Light' knight, was one of the greatest in the realm, and he wasn't big on mercy. 

The mysterious contender waited patiently for Borsalino to make the first move, which was smart. He obviously had great experience when it came to battle. The captain of the Royal Guard was fast, but this man equalled him in speed with each step and dodge, each sharp clang of metal hitting metal causing me to flinch in my seat. 

He's monstrous, but...graceful... 

It was like watching a dance. Step, twist, pivot, lunge. Dust kicked up and clouded the arena like mist, only adding to the theatrics. I wanted so badly to see their expressions. Neither one seemed fearful in the beginning, but as the battle went on, Borsalino's movements became more erratic and urgent. 

"Huh...Looks like he's finally met his match..." Lucci murmured, glancing to me from the corner of his eye. "I don't think I have ever seen you this enthralled, Your Grace. Enjoying the show?" 

I wanted to return him a scathing glare, but I didn't want to miss a moment. One wrong move from either of them could mean defeat, or worse. I found myself hoping that it would be Borsalino to meet such an end, but quickly shook the thought out of my head. I wished not for death. 

"Who is that man..?" I asked curiously, my seat rattling with my jolt when sword was swung, the nameless fighter narrowly avoiding the loss of his head. 
"I have my own suspicion, but until I have confirmation I do not wish to feed her royal majesty mere speculations." 

Or you could just tell me? You always keep things to yourself... 

Despite my frustrations with Lucci, I couldn't help but reach to grasp hold of his arm when the nameless man let loose a fearsome roar, his leg swinging instead of sword and catching Borsalino's neck, sending him straight into the ground with a loud crunch. 

I barely had time to blink between that moment and when his scythe-point was at the captain's throat, Borsalino's faceplate up and showing his complete and utter shock. The crowd was silent, save for startled mutters. 

"How disappointing, Ser Borsalino." My father sighed, crossing one leg over the other. "Do you yield?" To any other it would have sounded like a mere question, but I had come to learn his tones of voice. It was a warning. He wasn't about to let his top knight be killed for sport like the others. 

"I...yield, Your Grace..." Borsalino choked out, scowling as the deadly tip of the scythe was immediately removed from his throat. The nameless man stepped back a few paces to give him room to stand, not seeming to care that nobody cheered for his victory. 

"You. Ser. Approach." My father called his orders, and the man did as he was told, coming to a stop in front of our platform. 

Now that I could get a closer look without him moving, I grew ever the more curious. His armour was more leather than metal, blue cloak ragged at the ends, and his helmet...Such an odd shape, and striped a strange white and blue with holes dappling the surface. It was unlike any I had seen in the capital. 

Peculiar... 

"Your name?" My father's interest had peeked too, and I felt Lucci rise to his feet by my side. 
"Your Grace, I do believe this man to be the Massacre Soldier, Killer. There has been rumour of his battles from the South. A mercenary, if my sources be true." 

I sat silently, unable to tear my eyes from the warrior. Such a fitting name for a beast. He didn't seem comfortable down there, beneath royal eyes, and I couldn't blame him. 
"Is it true?" The King questioned, suspicious as he was intimidating. 

"Your...Grace. That seems to be the name the people of the realm have chosen for me, so I have little choice but to adopt it as my own..." As expected, his voice was deep and coarse, but it was somehow different than what I had expected. He was obviously trying to sound as proper as possible. 

Grunting, my father shifted in his seat, fingers tenting together. 
"Remove your helm." He ordered, yet the Massacre Solider made no move to obey. 
"I apologise, Your Grace, but I do not remove it for anybody. King, Queen or People. I am as I am, helm and all." 

Oh no. 

My head whipped to look over my shoulder towards my father, and just as I had feared, the vein in his forehead was pulsing in plain view. He didn't like being told no. 
"You dare refuse me?! The King of the Grand Realms?! Remove your helm or greet your death, boy!" 

My eyes darted back to the mysterious beast, and I watched his hand move to settle upon his chest. Taking a knee, he bowed his head, tresses of gold billowing over his shoulders. 
"So be it. However, I do humbly request that my life be brought to an end without being witnessed by women and children." 

Slamming his fist down upon the arm of his chair, the grinding of my father's teeth was impossibly loud. 
"Guards! Bring me his head! Now!" My knuckles were turning white as I gripped my skirt, watching in horror as the King's guard swarmed the Massacre Solider, who made no move to resist. 

Held down by both arms, head bent and ready to roll, he just patiently waited. It wasn't until the gleaming blade of a steel sword flashed in my eyes that I managed to snap myself out of it and lurch to my feet. 

"S..Stop..!" I ordered in my loudest voice, and the blade halted mid swing. It had been so dangerously close to the man's neck, but it had stopped. All eyes were on me now, and I swallowed dry, turning to address the king. "Father, you said I c..could ask for anything my heart desires for my name day, did you not?" 

Dark eyes narrowing, my father just glared at me, his fury bottled instead of spilling out to harm any and all around him. 
"I did. What does this have to do with anything?" He replied with a growl, which told me that whichever way this went I'd be in major trouble later on. 

Taking a deep breath, I motioned down towards the captured man, trying to keep my composure. It wasn't often I spoke against my father, after all. 
"My heart desires this good Ser as my personal guard!" 

The crowd immediately erupted into gasps and murmurs, but were quickly silenced by the raising hand of my father. His glare burned right through me with molten fury, but he was doing well to not let it out. 
"Not even if all the seas met and flooded the world! No disrespectful cur is fit to guard a pig pen, let alone a princess!" 

When I looked back down to the man, I could tell his eyes were trained on me, even though I couldn't see them. 
"You...pride yourself in honour and discipline, do you not, Father? This man must have good reason for not wishing to remove his helm, and I admire his bravery to stand for his right." 

Think think think! Before they lop off his head! 

"He...is a skilled fighter! A defender! Not only would I feel at my safest with a beast such as he at my heel, but he would also owe me a debt of life, for saving his head! This man, Massacre Soldier Killer, is what I so desire for my name day! He and he alone!" 

When my father rose from his seat, I backed up until I hit against Lucci's chest, feeling his hands hover over my arms as support. Would he strike me? In front of his subjects? He had never done such a thing in public before, but I would never put it past him. 

Descending towards the rail, he stopped at the edge, glancing between me and his hostage before his lip curled back. 
"What say you to my daughter's words, cur?! Would you offer your sorry excuse for a life to her?! Die for her?! Speak now, or let your blood paint the earth!" 

The man rose his head slightly higher, the blade above him still so hazardously close. He stared at me for what seemed like longest time, the crisp chill of the morning air having nothing on the strange chill that crawled up my spine. 

"Your Grace, nothing would give me greater honour than offering this merciful young princess my blood, my sweat and my bones, for as long as she deems me worthy..." As he spoke, his nails dug deep into the filthy earth, and I took notice. 

So he was scared...Please, Father. Let him live... 

Nothing was said for the longest time. Until something was, good or bad, I feared that my breath would remain frozen. 
"Very well...As my daughter wishes. This man shall live on as guard dog to the Royal Princess, Sakazuki (Y/N), first of her name!" My father announced to our people, though he still sounded agitated beyond belief. "If you so much as think about harming her, or allowing her to be harmed by another, you will wish your head rolled from your shoulders this day." 

Exhaling almost every ounce of oxygen in my body, I reached behind me to brace myself against Lucci, a smile of relief passing over my face. The Hand of the King waved down to the men containing the Massacre Solider, his other hand on my shoulder. 
"Take him to be cleaned! The castle needs no such muck and filth!" 

I simply watched as he was escorted from the arena by the King's Guard, tail of gold trailing behind him as he left. My peace was short lived, however, when I looked back to see my father standing before me, anger bubbling and threatening to overflow. 

"If you ever undermine my authority again I will not hesitate to have you punished, (Y/N). Do you understand me?" He hissed, low so only myself and Lucci could hear him. Scared, and feeling the crushing weight of his stare, I bowed my head, acknowledging his warning. 

"Y..Yes, Father...I understand...Thank you for your generosity..." 

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***This is just some random shit I decided to make because I'm rewatching Game of Thrones for work (pop culture retail and it's making a comeback thanks to House of Dragons or whatever it's called). 

I don't usually do AUs, so I have no idea how this will pan out, or if I'll finish it, but here it is nonetheless. 

Next Time: I Must Insist***