Chapter Text
At the foot of a temple hidden in the jungle, between lush trees and mist, people worshipped their god. A creature half snake, half human. According to your people, a god of water, life, and infinite power. People worshipped him, brought him gifts and sacrifices, and asked for his advice and guidance. The temple was the centre of faith, the place where their god resided.
From early childhood, you were taught the virtues of a warrior. Not just strength, but also discipline, tactical thinking, and perseverance. Your days were filled with training with all kinds of weapons, refining your reflexes, and studying ancient martial arts. Your talent was revealed with every practice, with every new fight in which you excelled.
Because of all this and your reputation, you wanted to become a member of the elite combat units, those who went on dangerous expeditions beyond the temple district, who defended villages against raiders, and who brought justice.
These warriors were highly respected. It would be an honour. You dreamed that your name would become a legend, that you would be recognised for your courage and strength in direct combat.
When the day of your assignment came, your heart pounded with anticipation. You were ready for anything. For long expeditions, for tough clashes, for dangerous missions. However, that day, Crocodile, your god, was looking for a new personal guard. And who else but the best of the best?
You were all lined up, the best warriors who were supposed to join the elite. Crocodile personally descended from his temple at the top of the pyramid and looked at you one by one. He glanced at most of them, maybe not even paying them much attention. He just walked past them. But with you? He stopped and measured you from head to toe before he smiled with satisfaction.
"What is your name?" he asked you, leaning closer. This rarely happened.
"Y/N, sir," you replied.
"Congratulations, Y/N, you have just been promoted. You will become my personal guard. I hope you don't disappoint me," he said arrogantly.
You couldn't believe your ears. Instead of the battlefield, you ended up in the shadow of the temple walls, in the role of a personal guard, or as you saw it, in the role of a babysitter.
You were disappointed, frustrated, and even angry. You wanted to fight, not stand in the shadows. You felt that your potential was being wasted, that your skills were withering in the routine of daily guard duty.
Standing there motionless, watching every shadow, and listening to every whisper of the wind seemed to be beneath you. You wanted action, not this. Now you had to guard someone who appeared to be completely self-sufficient and invincible.
But you quickly realised that protecting a god was not just a passive role. You soon learned about the dark forces that sought to destroy the balance. Assassins tried to kill him, day and night, from a distance and up close.
They came from outside tribes, from the ranks of heretics, or even from within, from those who envied his power. More than once, you had to intervene against a high priest or just some messenger.
They crept quietly under the cover of darkness, hid in the dense jungle, attempted to poison him, or tried a hidden attack. Sometimes, they even attempted a direct assault. But they never reached him. Your training proved to be invaluable.
Every one of your senses was sharpened, every movement was precise. Every assassination attempt was thwarted before it could cause any harm. Your frustration slowly gave way to a sense of fulfilment as you saw the results of your work.
"You are incredible," Crocodile once remarked when you returned from a fight, still splattered with blood. Its scent mixed with the smell of sweat and the jungle. His golden eyes bore into you, full of silent admiration. There was no arrogance in his gaze, only pure recognition.
At first, you thought his words were just a formal compliment. But gradually, your service became something more. In his eyes, you began to see something that transcended the mere relationship between a god and his protector. You felt that your presence was truly important to him, not just for protection, but for a completely different, still unknown reason.
Nevertheless, you gradually discovered that being a personal guard wasn't just about thwarting assassination attempts. It was an opportunity to get to know Crocodile in a different way than his worshippers did. For example, just like snakes, he also had to shed his old skin from time to time. You could tell by the way his skin became dull and started to itch.
You were the only one who could help him with this ritual. Other temple servants, let alone laypeople, were not even allowed to approach him during this time. You prepared a hot bath for him, filled with herbs and essences that softened the old skin and relieved the itching.
You spent hours gently removing the dead skin from his scaly back and shoulders. When he asked you to do it, you were quite taken aback, but you did it anyway. You later found out that for Nagas like him, it was an intimate act, where they didn't let just anyone near them, and it meant more than Crocodile was willing to admit. You felt the warmth of his skin under your fingers, heard his calm breathing. At such moments, the line between god and man seemed to disappear.
One day, while you were busy applying healing ointment to his new, shiny skin, Crocodile remained silent for longer than usual. The air in the room grew thick with quiet tension.
"Your hands are so gentle," he said softly. His voice, usually so authoritative and deep, now sounded strangely gentle, almost a whisper.
You looked up in surprise, only to find his eyes filled with something you couldn't name. It was more than just appreciation, something deep and sincere.
"I'm just doing my job," you replied calmly, even though it might not have been the complete truth. Crocodile just chuckled softly at that.
"Is that why you massage me so gently, as if I were your lover?" Crocodile couldn't resist the remark, taking a puff from his cigar.
You felt the blood rush to your face. Your face turned red, so you bent back down to his back, trying to concentrate on your work. But his words stayed in your mind for a long time afterwards.
Fate, as always, had its own plans. One day, while defending the temple, you were injured. It was during a particularly brutal attack by mysterious shadow creatures that emerged from the deepest corners of the jungle. The wound on your side was deep, but you refused to stop fighting. Adrenaline pumped through your veins, your will was indomitable. Even when you felt your head spinning, you knew you couldn't give up.
You won, and you quickly patched yourself up and returned to your post. When Crocodile saw you, his usually calm face immediately twisted into an angry expression, but it was more from fear than anger. He saw your exhaustion, the blood-soaked fabric.
"That's enough," he said uncompromisingly, his voice deep and urgent. "I order you to rest."
"I can't..." you began, leaning on your spear, but he gently supported you.
"You are my guardian, but first, you are a person I care about," he said, and his voice sounded surprisingly soft. In his golden eyes, you saw clear concern for the first time. "Rest. I will take care of everything else."
And so, your roles were reversed. Crocodile, the divine ruler, personally oversaw your recovery. His previously cold demeanour was gone, replaced by a tenderness you had never seen or expected before.
He sat by your bedside, helped you with bandages, his rough fingers surprisingly careful. He even prepared hot baths for you, as you had previously done for him, and personally made sure you had enough herbal concoctions to speed up healing.
"I should be protecting you, not lying here," you sighed one evening, when you felt strong enough. There was frustration in your voice at your own helplessness. Crocodile smiled, a rare and warm sight that you saw more and more often.
"Maybe. Now it's my turn to protect you. At least for this moment," he said, stroking your face.
When you recovered, he invited you one evening to the pond under the stars. It was a hidden place, far from the temple walls, where the night air was filled with the scent of wild flowers and the sound of cicadas. You sat next to each other on the edge of the pond.
"I used to think that being worshipped meant being alone. The strongest man, worshipped by all," he confessed softly, his voice sounding thoughtful. "But with you... I feel complete." His gaze rested on your face, both honest and vulnerable. Your breath hitched.
"I... I feel that way too... It was just a job at first... but now... now it's something more..." you admitted. The feeling was stronger than any desire for battle or fame.
"Stay with me. Not as a guardian, but as someone who cares about me. As my partner." Crocodile leaned toward you, and his forehead rested against yours. His breath was warm against your skin.
"It would be my honour, Crocodile," you whispered. It was the first time you had spoken his name.
That evening under the stars, your relationship transformed. It was no longer just about a god and his guard, about worship and duty. Now you were equals.