Summary: He can't keep her blue eyes out of his head. The Demon's Child. And so when the Strawhats dock at a friendly island to restock, to the ship's swordsman, it seems like he couldn't have landed in a better place in a better time; it's a perfect distraction. The island is called, "Katanashima": the Island of the Swords and the Strawhats find themselves in the midst of a sword-wielding, fight-thirsty culture in the middle of their annual celebration—a swordfighting tournament which lasts months and whose winner gains the right to fight the best swordsman of the island—the heir of the wealthy monarchs of the kingdom, trained in the art of the sword since four, and a true beauty— for the best swordsman in the kingdom is the King's oldest daughter, the princess. If this last battle is won, then the victor gains the right to have the royal hand in marriage and the vast riches and power of her throne. If the battle is lost, the suitor loses his life. And the Sunny's swordsman finds himself enmeshed in this very tournament. A tale of love, of heartbreak, of victory and friendship.

Info: Zoro x Robin, slight Zoro x OC. IU, post-Thriller Bark, pre-Sabaody. Nakamaship, romance. T+ (slight smut). Slight Sanji x Nami.

Conquest

A fanfiction by Syunikiss Mizer

Chapter 1

Strawhat Pre-Docking

Demon's child. Any other man would have recoiled from the temerity of the name. Any other man would have shaken his head and refused to contemplate further. Any other man would have taken a look at the amount on the bounty and felt the creeping crawl of his scrotum retreating into his belly.

To be immodest, to be blunt, to be outrageously uncouth and brutally frank—he was not any other man.

He was the bounty head, Roronoa Zoro. He was the bad boy on the Sunny Go—a ship which held quite a few bad personages itself. And maybe it was his addiction to adrenaline, his thirst for the best, the biggest, the strongest, that made that name make the gooseflesh ripple across his forearms and back in a way which was not unpleasant.

Demon's child. Bounty of eighty thousand belli when she was but eight years old. They had never found out her story when they had snatched her from Hell's jaws, it had not been necessary to know. Yet, he had developed a strange, unquiet interest in the woman and her origins. It was starting to get so that Zoro was beginning to lose sleep over the issue—something which had never happened to him before in his nineteen years of hectic existence.

And that is why he was still awake on a lovely summer midday. It was hot enough so that he was lazily stretched out on the grass, back against the wooden planks, arms behind his head, happy to be in his short-sleeved white shirt and enjoying the occasional breeze of sea foam. But it wasn't hot enough to be the devil's anus if that made any kind of vulgar sense.

He should have been sleeping, should have been quietly nodding, keeping tabs on the crew's activity subconsciously. But instead, he was sitting here, pretending to be under the spell of the sandman, thinking of flowers and blue eyes which were wide and shadowed by long, fringed eyelashes.

It wasn't that he feared another betrayal or that he was still suspicious of the archeologist's motives—it wasn't that at all. He didn't know what it was. It was like a bug had bitten him and he couldn't keep the itch out of his head no matter how much he scratched.

The sounds of the Sunny Go surrounded him. He could hear the sounds of Usopp, Chopper, and Luffy fishing. They were squabbling and telling tales, none true, and causing a generous ruckus. Could hear the sounds of pots and pans and grinding blenders from the kitchen as they floated out the open door. The sound of crinkling newspaper as Nami read the Grand Line Times in her wicker lawn chair. He could hear even the soft, delicate clinking of ice in her tropical drink as she sipped it. Brooke's violin sang from the back of the ship, playful and lively. Franky and Robin were the most subtle.

The archeologist was reading near Nami and the only sounds she emitted were those of the occasional page turn and the soft thump of her sandaled foot on the grass as she tapped the ground casually. And a thumping, more a vibration then a sound, reverberated occasionally through the deck as Franky tinkered on something or other in the vast bowels of the Sunny Go.

He should be sleeping. He should be. The day was warm, it had that lazy heat which forced one's eyelids to droop down and settle over glazed eyes. The brooding, lugubrious shadows of Thriller Bark and the Florian Triangle had been left behind forever and sleep was once again what it should have been—filled with nonsensical, light dreams and not with nightmares of dark doppelgangers and pointy teeth.

But all that filled his head were questions and musings of the darkhaired beauty which had been the seventh addition to their colorful crew. She was all of a mystery and then some; and Zoro couldn't quite wrap his mind around her enigma. There was a strange interest he couldn't explain, couldn't detach himself from.

"Zoro!"

He heard Nami call his name through the blackness and he grunted, letting her know he was listening.

"Can you go tell Sanji-kun that I need a refill on my Coconut-Honeydew Melon-Pineapple Margarita Mix?" Her voice was coy, slightly cozening, sweet to the point that his teeth ached. It's the navigator's way of trying to get him to follow her every command. He didn't want to get something thrown at him so he obeyed—kind of.

"Oi Cook! Nami needs a drink!"

The blond cook rushed out of the kitchen, large platter in hand, singing the women's praises. "Nami~ I heard that you need a cool drink made from an experienced hand to quench your thirst—allow me to present you with a wonderful concoction, my own creation—Tangerine Delight!"

The navigator squealed and kissed Sanji's cheek, "That sounds absolutely wonderful Sanji-kun! Did you use Bellemere's tangerines? I'm happy but that will still cost you five hundred belli per tangerine."

"Of course Nami-swan," the blond cook twirled and handed the two reclining women their drinks which were a bright, poignant orange the exact color of Nami's hair.

Already the infamous, bumbling trio were clamoring for drinks and of course, for snacks. Sanji handed them their glasses and beat them back as they attempted to take the last two glasses.

"Hey, Cook, pass one over here," Zoro called out, holding out a hand. "That looks good."

"Everything I make is good, fool," Sanji snorted, but tossed him a glass, the one that was slightly thicker and wider than the other one, "I made it Zoro-style. Couple shots of Gold Roger Rum. Just the way you like it, right?"

"Perfect," he said, and grinned before taking a heavy swig.

"Cook-san," Robin called out, her voice trailing up in a question.

"Yes, Robin-chan?"

"Can I get some shots of Rum in mine as well? I like the tang of the Lady Alvida Champagne you put in here, but I fear it's not strong enough for my tastes."

Zoro raised an eyebrow as Robin held up her glass and Nami giggled.

"Of course, Robin-chan," the cook purred, taking her glass, "I'm sorry—I thought you didn't want a truly alcoholic drink—that's Zoro's thing."

"No harm Cook-san," Robin smiled, "I just feel like taking something a little more fierce today."

"Right away, princess," the cook walked off, hand in his pocket, smiling, "I find it absolutely adorable that you like your liquor. My old man always said it was the pretty ones who could drink a pirate to shame. Hell, remember Whiskey Peak, Nami? Zoro was out when you were just barely getting started!"

"Ah, I remember that!"

"Oi Cook! If I remember correctly you were the one who passed out the whole night while I saved your sorry lives!" He snapped, "I was the only one who actually realized something was wrong—that placed was a viper's den of bounty hunters."

"Whiskey Peak? Was that the place where we met Vivi's guardian?" Usopp butted in, eyebrows lifted, "The place with a whole bunch of graves and where we thought it was a 'Pirate Welcoming' island?"

Robin closed her book quietly down and got up. She walked off, her exit so subtle and inconspicuous that Nami didn't even mention it, but continued to read her newspaper and listen to Usopp with half an ear.

"Yes, longnose, that's where we met Vivi," she remarked, her voice filled with cheerful remembrance, "That island was dirt-poor. I only found a few bronze coins when I searched it! Good thing I blackmailed Igaram." Her face darkened, "But I had to give it all up for Vivi's sake, my billion belli—"

"You're still on about that!"

Zoro got up and slipped out after Robin, leaving in the tumult of Usopp and Nami squabbling. He found the archaeologist leaning against one of the side railings, face turned to the breeze, black hair floating it out around her head.

She didn't turn to watch his approach and he approached, hesitant.

"Uncomfortable still?"

"That princess was your dear friend, was she not?" Robin replied calmly, not turning, "And I was the enemy. I supposedly murdered her guardian, the Captain of the Royal Guard, Igaram, that day that you docked at Whiskey Peak. I helped Sir Crocodile destroy Arabasta. I helped plan Operation Utopia. I recruited the Baroque Works agents. I defeated Pell in battle and subdued the Princess when she put up resistance to me—"

"That's all in the past," he cut in, bluntly, "That's over with, you shouldn't think that way. I was a bounty hunter before I joined Luffy and I didn't even want to join him—"

"But you never actively sought to destroy a good, healthy kingdom, filled with innocent civilians. You never actively fought against your nakama," Robin turned toward him, her eyes dark, "it will always be uncomfortable for me to remember my role in Arabasta and my allegiance to Crocodile. And that is my cross to bear; I cannot change it, not even by attempting to justify it by saying that it is history. History happened—it cannot be repeated, changed, or excused. It is what it is. No more no less."

Zoro didn't know what to say to that, so he simply said, "Whatever happened—none of us hold it against you. That's all I was trying to say." He walked off, mind buzzing. He had never heard her talk so much in a long while. And all through it he had stood, intoxicated in a way that the strongest rum would never be able to make him.

Of course it was uncomfortable for her to hear her nakama talk of their friend, a friend that she had tried her very best to strip of her kingdom for whatever reasons. But that didn't mean that she should kill herself every time Vivi was brought up and torture herself over facts that she couldn't control.

He rubbed the back of his head in exasperation, his feet taking him back to the grassy deck where he could hear Nami berating Usopp for bringing up Whiskey peak (even though it had actually been Sanji who had first touched upon that particular subject). It seemed like the navigator, no idiot herself, had quickly caught on to her nakama's absence and the reason for.

Nami's eyes immediately targeted him as he rounded the bend and walked out onto the grassy deck, "Is she fine?"

"Ashamed," he said, shrugging, "I tried to make her see reason, but she thinks it's all her fault."

Nami sighed, "I'll talk to her later. When we reach the island, so we can talk in peace."

"Island?"

"Didn't you feel the spring breeze moments ago? We entered a spring island's climate zone. We should be there before the night ends," Nami shrugged and settled into her lawn chair, "And we'll probably either find a pirate once thought deceased, a warlord attempting to take over a small country, or some trace of Gold Roger, watch."

He laughed, "Are we getting that predictable?"

"Just another day in the life of the Strawhat pirates," Nami said, burying herself back in the newspaper, "Now, leave me alone, I'm busy."

"Hey Nami! We should buy some bronze so that Franky can make a statue!"

"No."

Zoro wandered off, looking for a comfortable spot to pretend that he was sleeping.