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onepiecefeatstuff · 7 years

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Eternal | A Sanami fanfic | Part 2

Author note: This part of my madness is also highly influenced by War and Peace by Tolstoy, and The Great Comet of 1812, so every similiarity is not a coincidence but intentional. Easter eggs for everyone!

I hope you like it! ♥

A long time passed by until he saw her again. It was the 19th century, and this time, they were both in Russia. A Moscow before the flames, before the war with the French was so close that all celebrations stopped to evacuate. It was a Moscow filled with light, with music, with glee; that no eternal creature of that time would ever want to miss. Sanji was there because everyone was there, and truthfully, he heard of the most amazing ladies with bare arms and necks were in the capital of Russia. Plus he had the advantage of a cold and dark winter, which meant there was a smaller chance of sunrays burning his skin. Russia seemed like a perfect destiny.

He had been introduced to a world of posh parties and ballrooms, opera houses and mansions. In the privileged elite of Russia, everyone had their respective titles. Sanji heard the word “prince” so many times before the actual name of the person he was introduced to, it seemed like it had lost all sense of it. However, he decided to take it, too. Prince Sanji seemed to cause more effect than just Sanji, or no name at all. And there it was again: the image of the redheaded witch he met some centuries ago, and how he didn’t even catch her name. For all that he knew, she might have died and he would never find out. Or she could be alive and in Moscow. The single ray of hope never had vanished, even if he always ended up disappointed. He couldn’t help but to wonder if fate would ever cross them again, and most importantly, when would it be. And whenever he was single, that feeling became stronger.

Sanji ended up liking Moscow. It was a cold city, but there was always a bar nearby to drink vodka, or a fancy ball to attend to. Russianmen had a strange sense of humor, but they were nice, although he learned not to tell anyone he was French. The women were polite, yet very sensual. He could lose himself admiring them in those silky gowns. The vampire pack from Moscow welcomed him with open arms, having heard so great things about his work in other destinations: he had been to Italy, Spain, Germany… Sanji had always liked travelling and discovering new destinies, and if being a creature of the night had a perk it was that it was easy to find a home with other fellow vampires. They were always nice enough to let anyone stay in a couch, or, the fanciest ones, in their hotel (he didn’t know what some vampires had for hotels, but he was more of a restaurant person).

A countess whose name he forgot how to pronounce had invited him to another ball. After days and days of taverns at night and balls every evening, one could say he grew tired of them, but in the end, it was the best entertainment he had. Sometimes he would see a glance from a seelie, a fairy, or other creatures. He found a great werewolf by the name of Andrey, only to discover hours later that almost anyone was named Andrey in Moscow. It was either that, or Nikolai, apparently. He also met a few women named Marya, and some Natashas. If someone were to write a novel about this time, he thought, he could easily name every character after them and it would be the most representative sign of that society. But neither Natasha nor Marya was the name he was looking for in the crowd, in every crowd.

“You look like you could use a drink, asshole” someone told him at his back, and he turned to face the creature he despised more than anyone: Roronoa Zoro, from the Wild Hunt of the fairies. In the stories, he had realized when he first met Zoro, fairies look pure and graceful, but they’re nothing like that. Some are beautiful, but tricky and dark. Others, not even that. Zoro was strong, but stupid. The only thing Sanji was sure of was that he would always tell the truth, as seelies couldn’t lie.

“Nice to see you too, marimo” he muttered, and rolled his eyes.

“I can’t say it’s my pleasure, us hunters can’t lie.” Zoro said, but lend him a glass of vodka. It was always vodka in Russia.

“I can” he told him, taking a sip. It was strong, but he didn’t glitch. “But I won’t.”

Zoro waved him goodbye and walked away from him. It was always like this, their relationship, and he couldn’t describe whether he was a friend or not. They were acquaintances, Sanji thought. Acquaintances who enjoyed messing with each other.

He wandered around the ballroom, with his drink on hand. Some men approached him and he greeted them with courtesy, and he spotted some women pulling their head back and bashing their eyelashes when he came by. Certainly, those were his kind of parties, although he missed some of the greatest wine from France, and the smell of the Mediterranean cooking. And warm blood, of course. In Russia, blood ran colder, quite literally. He felt his fangs pressing his tongue at the thought of blood, and he knew he had to look for a distraction, something that could keep him away from his blood thirst.

That’s when he spotted a large group of men, grouped in a circle, around two ladies who sipped their beverages comfortably sat in a small couch. They both wore gloves and long, silky dresses with no sleeves. Their bare necks were embellished with pearl collars. They dressed so similar, Sanji thought, but looked so different. The taller one had her black hair in a lovely updo, and deep blue eyes that seemed to be staring straight at him. She had a mysterious gaze, as Sanji could not identify whether he was the cause of it, or if it was part of her nature; but when she blinked slowly, and placed her hand on her ear for nothing more than just a second, Sanji recognized the grace that belonged to no other mundane. The grace of a seelie, a real fairy. Not like that stupid marimo from the Wild Hunt. She looked like a black rose: beautiful and fragile, yet deadly. She had as many petals as thorns.

Normally Sanji would rush into the arms of a woman like that without hesitation, but when he looked at the girl beside her, his jaw fell open and if his heart would still be in function, it would skip a bit or even two. The girl had short, ginger hair and big brown eyes, and a familiar smirk on her lips when his eyes met hers. For a second, Sanji swore she winked at him, even; but she soon turned to the crowd of men and laughed like there was nowhere else she would rather be. Someone asked her a question, and while she was answering politely, Sanji got hypnotized by the way she was moving her hands. She had a unique grace and her movements seemed so natural yet so special, as if she was already doing magic. Maybe she was, Sanji thought, and all those men were just as helpless as he was, watching in awe and afraid to move, not daring to break the magical aura they were in.

But unlike the other men, Sanji had been waiting for her to reappear in his life for decades and even centuries, and he wasn’t going to throw away his first shot in a long time. He cleared his throat and walked through the crowd, careful not to hit anyone. The last thing he wanted was to start a punch fight. He did not like to fight with his fists.

The seelie had her head supported by her hand, in a successful attempt to make her look like she was thinking in something really interesting. Her eyes were sparkling when she met his, and she smiled directly at him, playfully.

“I believe we haven’t met, sir” she told him, and the whole audience turned to Sanji. They all seemed to wonder who that stranger was, and how did he get so lucky to be personally recognized by such a woman.

Sanji saw his opportunity to introduce himself like he had rehearsed year after year in case a situation like that would ever come. He had practiced every single word in his speech, and he had it all memorized somewhere in his head. The problem was that he couldn’t find it. He opened his mouth to speak, but he was only able to mumble nonsense.

“Does anyone here have a cat? Because this man seems to have lost his tongue.” The redheaded woman laughed, amused. She had a playful spark in her eyes, and Sanji was sure that she had recognized him. He also was sure that she was enjoying making fun of him, as well as the other men in the room, but he didn’t care about that. Just that look in her eyes was enough for him to take a step forward.

“I’m sorry to inform you that you must be mistaken, my lady” he said, with a little bow. “I am quite friendly with those furry pets.”

“That is a good quality indeed, don’t you think, Robin?” she turned to her older friend, who responded with the same amused tone.

“I do. Lord knows how much we care for those creatures.” Robin said, although Sanji noticed a tiny glitch in her little speech, and how she could be referring to anyone by just saying “Lord”. Seelies couldn’t lie, but they were known for manipulating the truth. “But it is true that my friend here has always felt a natural love for marginalized species.”

Sanji saw his chance in those words, and he lowered his body, turning to the witch.

“I would love to hear all about that, if you’ll allow me.” He said, kissing her hand like a gentleman. “But first, shall I know your name?”

Nami gave him a thoughtful look, then returned to her little laughter. “I don’t know, shall you? It’s only fair if you give me yours.” That said, she took his hand and headed to the center of the ballroom. Sanji looked back at the crowd, now dividing, and Robin winked him an eye.

“Sanji, at your service.” He said, and placed his hand in her hip. “Would you like to dance?”

“I thought I already made it clear” she answered, but placed her hand in his shoulder, and started to lead. “You can call me Nami.”

Sanji couldn’t have explained how they got there, but suddenly they were dancing in the middle of the room. When he recalled that memory hundreds of years later, he would describe it as nothing but electrifying. The atmosphere was intoxicating, with lights and people all around them, but he couldn’t see anything but her face glowing in the light, her hand on his shoulder, her lead.

“How do you like Moscow, little vampire?” she whispered, and he swore that for a moment, he had chills in his undead body.

“At first, I did not like it much.” he admitted “But nights are longer, and coldness is not a problem for a vampire.”

“I believe that what makes a city pleasant is the company” Nami said. “It is such a shame that I can’t stay for much longer.”

Sanji didn’t know where he found the courage and the strength to do so, but he spun her around only to make her fall in his arms again. For a moment, the gaze she gave him made him think that she was going to kill him in that second. But then she smiled, and she heard her giggle, and it sound so pure he wished to have the power to bottle that laugh forever.

“I see you’re making the most of it.” she said “You dragged everyone’s attention, you fool.”

He looked around to see everyone standing still, almost frozen, staring straight at them.

“You give me no choice now.” Nami told him, and dragged him, running. “Time for a disappearance!”

They ran across the room, and fled to the corridors, where she surrounded him in a corner.

“I’m having a déjà vu right now” she purred, and her cat eyes sparkled. He hadn’t known how much he had missed them until that moment. “If you weren’t a vampire, I would have said you look pale.”

“I’m just wondering why did you do that.” He told her, but it wasn’t the whole truth. Yes, he wanted to know why she fled like that, dragging even more attention towards them, but that was like wanting to know when the next catastrophe would happen. Nobody could predict where a hurricane would hit next, and in his mind, Nami was that. She was a force of nature, wild and unpredictable.

“A warlock lives for the drama. If I don’t leave an impression, how will history remember me?” she opened her arms, and for a second, Sanji thought she was about to make a spell. Then again, he didn’t know how warlocks did magic, he had never asked before.

“I know what you’re probably thinking now.” Nami told him, although Sanji wasn’t sure of that. “The rest of the downworlders don’t seem to get it.”

“We don’t get what exactly?” he asked, confused.

“You think it’s stupid to care about our legacy if we’re eternal, but you know what? Eternal doesn’t mean invincible. I can still die, and I think about it every day. I don’t see what’s wrong with wanting people to remember you.”

“I don’t” Sanji said, and rushed to clarify his answer when she looked at him, confused. “I don’t think it’s stupid, I meant. But then again, you could always make a scene in the ballroom with all eyes on you.”

“I like when people look at me, indeed” she responded, getting closer to him. “But I don’t want those shadowhunter idiots to track me down. Plus, I couldn’t have done this if we were still there.”

Before Sanji could ask what she was referring to, she pulled him off the furry jacket he was wearing and kissed him. On his lips. Sanji froze, unable to react to the situation, and when she separated his lips from hers, he touched his lips.

“Why did you do that?” he asked, looking at the ground. His heart didn’t beat anymore, but he felt as if were about to get out of his chest.

“Because I wanted to.” she answered with a devilish smile and a playful look in her eyes. “Take it as a goodbye gift. Things are about to get messy in Moscow and I wouldn’t like to be here to witness it, I would recommend you to do the same.”

She turned over her heels, and Sanji could see her ankles for a second. Thirst and lust were overcoming him, more than ever. It was almost intoxicating. With one little gesture of her hand, she opened a portal, and much to his surprise, Robin appeared on the other side of the corridor, running to her side. He had never asked about their relationship, and now he regretted it. Seelies didn’t have many friends, due to their nature, but they seemed to be really close.

“Wait!” he implored an octave higher than he wanted to. He sounded desperate, and he felt his knees weak. “Where can I send you a letter?”

Robin entered the portal, giving him one last smile, and Nami entered a foot before turning to face him.

“It’s 19th century Russia, little vampire. Women can send letters too.” She said, and waved him goodbye.

#sanami #sanji x nami #one piece fanfiction #nami #sanji #inspiration: shadowhunters

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