#yes Marco’s betrothed is Sabo

[xamaxenta]

Prince Marco and his knight for hire Ace bc I wanna swap the usual of Prince Ace and knight Marco

Marco didn’t want any of the stuffy royal knights to accompany him, they’d only clip his wings and make the trip absolutely no fun at all

The trip to meet his intended betrothed that is

So he puts out an anonymous call for any blade for hire to see if they would be willing to protect a civilian for the next several moons, they’d be travelling light and discreetly

After a long and careful screening process, Marco selects a man with the title Firefist, wanting to at least meet his companion before their journey and at least learn his name, Marco ends up in the shadier side of the kingdown with shadow surveillance tagging along behind to ensure they didn’t try anything

Firefist is much younger than he had originally expected, unmasked, unlike Marco himself which was also a surprise, for obvious reasons he’s covered himself up.

“Well for starters I can easily see why you’d like to hire a wandering blade, your highness.” Firefist drawls out from the dark corner they’ve found themselves in.

Stiffening up in mild surprise, Marco peers at the youth shadowed across the table from him.

“How so?“ His curiosity wins over and Firefist tilts his head, dark hair draping over his face as he pretends to think over his question.

“Your royal guard is poorly trained in concealment.” Firefist replies without negative inflection, his tone factual and without arrogance. Marco tries very hard not to glance around at said guards positions, doing so would only confirm their locations.

“And how do you know this?“ Marco decides to play into the conversation.

“My observation skill is keener than most.” Is all Firefist has to say on the matter, he then reaches into his pockets and tugs out the crumpled notice Marco had posted around the city.

“Let’s talk business. I won’t lie, I have a younger brother that I’d kill and be killed for, he’s sick and his particular malady is hard to cure.” Firefist sits back in his chair and crosses his arms, almost defensively.

“State your price.” Marco says automatically, and maybe the treasury will berate him for not drawing up some kind of contract. Clearly Firefist seems to agree if the slightly mocking smile that slips onto his face is any indicator.

“Are you sure you’d like to do this by ear? What if I say everything you’ve got in the royal bank, your highness?“ Firefist challenges, his voice pitching lower with his amusement.

“You wouldn’t, you’re not that kind of person,” Marco responds mildly, and its his turn to be faintly amused at the way Firefist falls silent, mulling over the implication.

“You’re far different than who I expected you to be.” Firefist eventually speaks up after a moment of quiet between them, taps his finger against the notice, “—knew this was nobility shit the moment I read it.”

“So why did you agree to meet me if you knew it was nobility shit?“ Marco queries, now fully engaged in this mysterious situation he’s found himself in, he hopes, he really does that he can hire this man.

“I was curious. See what kinda snob wanted a commoner’s blade to watch their back. Surprised it was you though.” Firefist indulges him, relaxing a fraction, something Marco was relieved to see.

“Well, like you said it seems my guard have some extra training to attend to, this is why I’m looking for someone with real world experience.” Marco hates to throw his personal knights under the hypothetical horse carriage, but none of them have ever actually seen combat, let alone needed to defend him properly. Naturally, he doesn’t doubt their skill and professionalism but with the growing unrest between their neighbouring kingdoms, Marco would prefer someone who currently walks down these treacherous roads.

“Flattery will get you nowhere. Your coin however, will.” Firefist murmurs and despite his words is clearly won over by said flattery, “—you said state my cost to protect you? Save my little brother.”

The wandering blade leans across the table, right into Marco’s space, he smells of charred wood, iron and something distinctly magical, “Tell me your highness, can you put a price on someone’s life?”

“I cannot. But I agree to these terms. Your brother will be under the care of the greatest attending physicians we can offer.” Marco promises, and this seems to please Firefist.

“Then we have a deal—“ he starts when Marco cuts him off quickly.

“Not yet.”

“Hm?” Firefist squints at him from within the gloom, the silver of his eyes bright and calculating.

“You’ve forgotten my terms within this deal. Your name, if you’re happy to divulge it.” Marco hates that he’s been desperate to know for the entire time they’ve been talking.

“Is that all?“ The rogue laughs, snaps his fingers and a droplet of the warmest sun shines within the space between his fore finger and thumb, highlighting his face properly with golden, orange light.

“Portgas D Ace, your highness,”