Archive of Our Own

“There’s an envoy that’s just arrived to see you.”

Zoro grunts to acknowledge that he’s heard Nami’s comment, but otherwise makes no move to look away from the sword that he’s carefully honing.

He hears her sigh behind him, well versed in the noise after all the time they’ve spent working together, and isn’t overly surprised when she prods him sharply in the back with the foolish staff Usopp had designed for her.

“I said,” she states firmly, “there’s an envoy here to see you.”

Forced to accept the fact that she’s not going to simply go away unless she gets some kind of response out of him, Zoro finally drags his gaze up from the sword in his hands. “From where?”

“Germa.” She replies, her tone grim.

It takes him a moment to place the name, requiring him to go through years of half remembered lessons that he’d largely slept through anyway, much to the chagrin of the many tutors Mihawk had inflicted upon him in his youth. When it does dawn on him, however, he straightens to his full height without further ado.

“What does Germa want with the likes of us?” He demands, sliding Wado back into her sheath, where she waits patiently next to Shusui and Kitetsu.

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Nami advises. She’s trying to appear calm, he can tell, but there’s a subtle tightening around her eyes that he doesn’t fail to miss. “Beyond the fact that she wants to talk to you.”

“She?” Zoro echoes. Of course there’s no rule to say that an envoy must be male, but from what he knows of Germa, it’s an odd choice.

“She.” Nami repeats, and now her budding concern becomes even more palpable. “It’s Vinsmoke Reiju. The Crown Princess.”

It takes Zoro a moment to find his voice. “Well,” he says finally. “I suppose we’d best go see what she wants, shouldn’t we?”

*****
Vinsmoke Reiju turns out to be a tall woman with vibrantly pink hair that puts Zoro in mind of his sister. One quick glance at her eyes, however, is enough to stop that comparison in its tracks, and convinces him undoubtedly that she and Perona have nothing further in common.

He and the Princess eye each other warily for several moments, until Nami gives him a minute jab in the back that is hopefully hidden by the furred cloak he currently has thrown over his shoulders.

“Your Highness,” he says then, the formality feeling funny on his tongue, for all that it’s one appropriate to the situation. “Welcome to Shimotsuki.”

“Your Grace,” she replies, apparently ignorant to the way the title makes Zoro’s hackles rise. “Thank you for having me, and for seeing me so quickly at that.”

“It’s not every day that a visiting royal turns up in my halls,” Zoro notes. “And unannounced at that. Under the circumstances, I felt it would be prudent to make myself available. What can I do for you?”

“My, how direct you are,” she says, a faint glint in her eye suggesting that she’s amused. “I’d heard as much, of course, but it appears the rumours don’t quite do you justice.”

“I find that rumours rarely do,” Zoro says with a slight incline of his head. “And I apologize if I seem rude, but I’m well aware of the lack of similarities between our two nations. Therefore, I can only assume that this visit isn’t a random social call, and that you’re after something specific. Which, if you don’t mind, I’d rather just get out in the open.”

He feels something start itching between his shoulder blades, and figures it’s Nami trying to set him on fire through sheer force of will alone. Determined to ignore her, he focuses on Reiju instead, who surprises him by letting out a sharp bark of laughter.

“Direct indeed,” she says, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back in the chair she’d been offered prior to his arrival. “Very well, Your Grace. The simple truth is that you have something Germa wants, and I’ve been sent here with an offer to try and obtain it.”

“I’m listening.”

“My father’s services have been requested by a land located a fair distance into the continent’s interior. As I’m sure you’re aware, Germa is an entirely naval based country, so in order to reach our intended destination we will have to cross numerous borders that are not our own.”

“Including ours, I take it?” Zoro surmises.

“That’s correct,” she says, nodding her head. “More importantly, between your fully functioning port and your general location, Shimotsuki is the ideal landing spot for our troops.”

“I see,” Zoro says, letting just a hint of ice creep into his tone.

“No doubt you do,” she agrees, unconcerned with his suddenly hostile demeanour. “Now, my father is confident that we could cross through your territory whether you permitted it or not, but,” she adds, her voice rising slightly when Zoro lets his hand drop to Wado’s hilt, “I for one am not certain I share that sentiment. Your reputation precedes you, Your Grace. Yours and your people’s as well.”

“Cut the bullshit flattery,” Zoro snaps. “If you know anything about me, you know I don’t have time for it. If it’s a fight you’re after, Shimotsuki will give it to you.”

“Your Grace,” Reiju stresses, “a fight is exactly what I’m here to try to avoid. Even if we got through your forces, it would no doubt be a bloody massacre on both sides, and leave us in no condition to go complete the job we’ve been hired to actually do.”

“Not to mention,” Nami pipes up, “whether or not you can defeat Shimotsuki is a moot point in the end. Picking a fight with us will see Kuraigana come down on your heads like a ton of bricks, and Vinsmoke Judge doesn’t have the firepower to take down both us and Mihawk.”

“No, and, much though it annoys him, he’s well aware of that fact,” Reiju says, eyeing Nami shrewdly. “Hence why I am here talking to you, as opposed to at the head of a squadron of troops set to land on your shores.”

Zoro snorts. “So you want safe passage through our land, and in exchange you’ll move through peacefully, is that it?”

“Yes,” Reiju confirms. “And in order to cement the deal, my father is prepared to offer you several enticements as well.”

“Such as?”

She pauses, and for the first time in the entire conversation, Zoro thinks he sees a flicker of displeasure in her eyes. It vanishes before he can convince himself whether or not it’s real, though, after which her expression smoothes out into a mask of cool indifference.

“Well, for starters - my younger brother.”

*****
“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” Usopp makes a show of rubbing at his ear theatrically, before peering up at Zoro with wide eyes. “I must be mistaken because I could have sworn you just told me the King of Germa is offering you one of his own sons’ hand in marriage.”

“Clearly your hearing is on par with your eyesight,” Zoro says dryly. “As that’s exactly what I said.”

Usopp now rubs theatrically at his chin, scratching his fingers through the faint scruff that he’s been trying to grow in recent months. “But … Germa?” He says finally. “As in, the northern kingdom famous for being led by a family of ruthless assassins?”

“I believe they’re also known for their scientific breakthroughs and their overall military might,” Nami says tiredly from her spot on the opposite side of the table. She swishes the tankard in front of her almost idly, before taking a hearty gulp. “They are, quite simply, bad news.”

“I gathered as much,” Usopp replies. “Why in the world would they want such an alliance with us? I understand the part about them wanting to cross through our territory, that makes sense, but they could probably get that just by promising to be on their best behaviour. Why offer us so much more in return?”

“Because they know they can’t necessarily get what they want just by asking,” Nami says. “If Zoro tells them no, their only option to push forward would result in them facing Mihawk’s wrath, which is frankly no option at all. If the answer’s no, they’ll have to go elsewhere, so they’re trying to sweeten the deal.”

“Alright, I follow what you’re saying,” Usopp says after a moment, “but why offer a marriage contract, of all things? Based on his reputation, I have a hard time picturing Vinsmoke Judge wanting to be publically connected to Zoro.”

“He doesn’t,” Zoro admits, speaking up again. “But being publically connected to Mihawk is likely another story.”

“Ah.” Usopp says. “Now I’m following you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Zoro assures him. “I’ve got no need of a husband - no, witch, we are not having that discussion again - and even if I did, I certainly wouldn’t be looking for one among the Vinsmoke. They can have their safe passage, I’ve got no interest in risking Shimotsuki or our outlying regions on the off chance Judge takes offence to being told no, but he can keep his son and find some other poor schmuck to marry him off to.”

“Mhm. Which son did he offer, anyway?” Usopp wonders. “If I’m remembering my world history lessons correctly, he has a number of them.”

“He has four,” Nami says, “and he suggested the third one.”

Usopp’s eyes narrow. “Isn’t that the one there’s all those strange rumours about? The one who never goes on military campaigns, and who almost no one ever sees?”

“Well, obviously,” Zoro drawls, toasting his friend with his own tankard. “I can’t imagine Judge was inclined to bind one of his actually favoured offspring to the likes of me.”

“Oh, of course,” Usopp agrees, allowing himself a small grin despite the seriousness of the situation. “How silly of me to think otherwise. Do you suppose he’s offended that you’ve turned him down?”

“Technically, I haven’t yet,” Zoro says.

“Part of why Reiju was here was to request a personal audience between Zoro and her father,” Nami explains. “She asked for him to wait to make his decision on the matter until all parties have had an opportunity to meet face to face.”

“Oh boy.” Usopp lets out a low whistle. “Do you think we should arrange to have extra guards posted throughout the castle while they’re here?”

“Maybe a few,” Zoro says after a moment’s deliberation. “Find Johnny and Yosaku,” he decides. “Have them bring some of their people in from the cove and station them on the battlements. Not too many, though. We don’t want to tip our hand, either.”

Usopp sighs forlornly. “It’s a pity Luffy isn’t around at the moment. That one’s a show of force all on his own.”

“He is,” Zoro acknowledges. “But I haven’t the faintest idea where he is these days, and we don’t have time to try and track him down. Do as I’ve asked, and leave the rest to me.”

“Aye aye, Your Majesty,” Usopp replies, saluting him with his drink.

*****
The next morning dawns bright and clear, and Zoro wastes no time in getting up to run through his regular training routine. Then, once that’s been completed, he washes quickly and goes about getting dressed.

He’s just finished buckling all three of his swords over his right hip when there’s a knock on the door to his chambers. Before he can tell the person to enter, however, it’s unceremoniously shoved open, and Nami strides inside like she owns the place.

“I’m fairly certain you’re supposed to wait to be invited in,” he points out, earning himself a dirty look for his troubles. “Alright then. Good morning to you too.”

“There’s nothing good about this morning,” she hisses. “I’ve been up all night thinking about this, and the more I do, the more I feel like you should have just given Reiju your answer yesterday and been done with the whole mess.”

Zoro gives her a pointed look. “Aren’t you the one who’s always telling me I need to be more diplomatic?”

“Among others,” she replies snidely. “But did you have to use now, of all times, to listen to me?”

Zoro shrugs. “I don’t want to see more bloodshed come to this land than you do,” he says. “I think we can both agree it’s seen enough of that in recent memory.”

“Of course we can,” she snaps, beginning to pace across the room like a caged animal, the sharp click of her heels echoing as she stomps over the stone floors. “Don’t patronize me, Zoro. Accidental king or not, I will put my fist through your skull without a moment’s hesitation.”

“Well, that would certainly put a damper on the day’s plans,” he says dryly. “Also, if you kill me, Judge will no longer have any reason to bother playing nice, and will likely just invade the entire kingdom. So. There’s that.”

Nami makes the noise she always does when she’s considering murder, but then takes a deep breath and gets a visible grip on her temper. “Fine,” she says through clenched teeth. “I see this meeting is going to take place whether I approve of it or not. In that case, is that what you plan on wearing?”

Blinking, Zoro takes a moment to glance down at himself. Along with his swords, he’s sporting sturdy leather boots, dark breeches accented by a thick pale green sash cinched around his waist, an open tunic, and a fur lined shoulder cape. All told, he sees nothing wrong with the ensemble, especially in the off chance that a fight breaks out.

“What’s the problem?” He asks, genuinely curious.

“You mean, aside from the fact that you look exactly like the barbarian warlord so many people want to make you out to be?” She replies dryly. “Vinsmoke Judge, no matter how repugnant an individual his reputation suggests he is, is nevertheless a visiting head of state, Zoro. You have an obligation to make a good impression.”

“I have no such thing,” Zoro retorts. “Nor do I have any desire to pretend to be something I’m not. He’s the one who wants something from me in this instance, so he can take me as I am.”

Much to his surprise, Nami cracks a smile at this. “I suppose you have a point,” she concedes. “Likewise, it can’t hurt to have him underestimate us, and if he decides you’re a bumbling yokel, that’s exactly what he’ll do.”

“I’m so pleased that you approve,” Zoro replies. “Now that that’s sorted, can we go get this farce over with? I imagine the delegation from Germa will be arriving soon, and I see no reason to draw out the whole event.”

Curtsying theatrically, Nami flaps one hand towards his still open door. “After you, M’Lord,” she drawls in an overwrought accent.

Sighing, Zoro stomps out of the room.

*****
Usopp meets them as they’re making their way to the throne room, taking position on Zoro’s left side, since Nami’s already walking by his right. “The representatives from Germa are here,” he says breathlessly. “I watched them come in from the main battlement.”

“And?” Zoro asks. “What did you see?”

“It’s not just Judge,” the younger man says in a rush. “The princess is with him, and all four princes.”

Nami whistles. “He must be desperate for this alliance if he’s willing to bring not only himself, but all five of his heirs into potentially hostile territory. Whatever this mission he’s on is about, it must be serious.”

“Good for him,” Zoro says. Having reached the throne room, he nods at a few of the guards stationed inside and marches over to the simple wooden seat. “I, for one, just want to get this over with. Hopefully, they’re not intending to stay for long.”

“Agreed, but that’s still no excuse for making a bad first impression.” At Zoro’s inquiring look, Nami jerks her chin sharply in his direction. “Stop slouching. Also, for heaven’s sake don’t fall asleep while anyone’s talking.”

“That was one time!”

Nami’s potential retort - and judging by the look on her face there had certainly been one coming - is stalled by the arrival of one of the castle heralds. Looking slightly breathless, the young woman announces the names of their guests, and then ducks out of the way to let them pass.

Reiju’s bright pink hair makes her easy to spot, but the towering man next to her catches the bulk of Zoro’s attention. He locks his good eye with both of Vinsmoke Judge’s, deciding immediately that he doesn’t like what he sees. The sooner this man is out of his land and away from his people, the better.

Usopp coughs, and Zoro bites down on the urge to sigh upon being reminded of his manners. “Your Grace,” he says tersely, curling his hands around the arms of the throne. “Welcome to Shimotsuki.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Judge replies, his lip curling enough to suggest he doesn’t feel Zoro is worthy of the title. “I appreciate you granting us an audience, and on such short notice as well.”

Zoro inclines his head. “As I told your daughter yesterday, it’s no trouble. However, I don’t see any point in making this take any longer than necessary. I understand you must want to be on your way, and - ”

“That’s true.” Judge cuts him off in a move that goes against all forms of royal decorum. “If I may introduce my other children then?”

Annoyed, but trying not to show it, Zoro nods. “If you insist.”

Extending his left arm, Judge beckons to the four young men standing behind him, gesturing for each of them to step forward in turn. “My eldest son, Ichiji, followed by Niji, then Sanji, and finally Yonji. They have all been very anxious to meet you.”

“I’m sure,” Zoro murmurs absently. Without meaning to, his attention has been completely snagged by the second last prince, and he finds himself unable to look away.

“Ah,” Judge says knowingly, the look on his face one that makes Zoro have to fight back a grimace of distaste. “I see you’ve realized which of them is the third born prince. Step forward, Sanji, let His Grace get a good look at you.”

“That’s not necessary,” Zoro starts to say, but the Vinsmoke prince is already doing as he’s told.

Smaller than his father and brothers by a considerable margin, Sanji isn’t much taller than his older sister. His silken blond hair - a notable contrast to that of his more vibrantly coloured siblings - flows in waves to just below his shoulders, parted in such a way that it obscures one of his eyes from view.

His other eye, brilliantly blue in colour, grabs hold of Zoro’s gaze when he gets close enough, and he bows low, the movement flawlessly executed while his father and siblings watch him from behind. “Your Grace,” he says stiffly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

They’ve barely been here five minutes and Zoro’s already had all the ‘Your Grace’s’ he can stand. Still, there’s something to be said for propriety - if in exceedingly rare circumstances.

Releasing his grip on the edge of the throne, Zoro pushes himself out of his seat, and moves down the three short steps that lead up to the raised platform. Once he’s close enough, he holds out a hand for the prince to take, bowing low on his own before pressing a kiss to the back.

“Your Highness,” he says, hoping he’s got the title right given how flat footed he finds himself feeling. Almost absently, he notes the slim gold band encircling the prince’s wrist, with a matching one located on the other arm. “I think in this instance the pleasure is mine.”

He hears someone’s breath hitch in the distance - probably Nami’s - but he’s too busy being mesmerized by the rosy flush that spreads across the prince’s pale cheeks at his words. “Welcome to Shimotsuki.”

“I, um, I believe you already said that, Your Grace,” the prince replies, ducking his head at the same time his father’s nostril’s flare angrily.

“Yes,” Zoro agrees, not missing the sudden shift in Judge’s demeanour, or the way the prince seems to curl in on himself as if he’s done something wrong. “But, in this instance, I was speaking to you specifically.”

“I do hope you’ll be happy here,” he adds, and isn’t surprised at all when Nami audibly groans.

*****
“What in the world were you thinking?” Usopp demands the second the door slams behind the three of them.

“He wasn’t thinking!” Nami snaps, ignoring Usopp in favour of glaring at Zoro. “Or at least he wasn’t thinking anything beyond ‘oooh pretty’.”

“That’s not true!” Zoro protests, only to wilt at the ferocity of the look she levels him with. “At least, not entirely so.”

Nami makes a sound like a rabid animal, and Zoro very nearly finds himself taking a step back when she appears as if she’s about to lunge towards him. “A Vinsmoke, Zoro!” She cries, her fingers curling into agitated claws. “A Vinsmoke.”

“Mihawk’s going to kill you,” Usopp adds. “And then he’s going to let Perona deal with the remains.”

“Mihawk’s hundreds of miles away, and has no say in what I do or don’t do in Shimotsuki,” Zoro snaps. “I know people like to conveniently forget that fact, but that doesn’t make it any less true.”

“I suspect that when it comes to an alliance with Germa, he might beg to differ,” Nami retorts. “I can’t believe you’ve gone and tied us to those - those warmongers, all because you got taken in by a handsome face.”

“That wasn’t it,” Zoro again tries to reiterate. “Or did it somehow escape your attention that the other three brothers all look similar? I’ve no interest in any of them.”

“Then enlighten us, why don’t you?” She suggests. “What is it about this specific prince that’s made you lose what was left of your mind?”

“He isn’t one of them,” Zoro says stubbornly, a claim that causes both of his advisors to blink.

“ … um,” Usopp finds his voice first. “I think if you rewind this conversation, you’ll find a number of indications that he very much is. If you’ll pardon my rudeness, what the hell are you getting at?”

Zoro takes a deep breath as he tries to parse out what he wants to say. “Did you see him with them? He doesn’t fit.”

Usopp and Nami share a long look, before the former clears his throat. “He’s - I mean, I noticed he’s a lot smaller than all of the others,” he says slowly. “Is that what you’re talking about?”

“No,” Zoro flaps an errant hand. “He’s not tiny, they’re all just huge. I’m talking about body language. Didn’t you notice the way he was closed off from the rest of them? And when he made the joke about me repeating myself, he shied away from Judge’s reaction.”

“Oh hell,” Nami groans, realization apparently having dawned with regard to what Zoro’s getting at. “You think he needs saving.”

Zoro snorts. “He’s a grown man. As far as I’m concerned that means he can take care of himself. Having said that, I don’t think he’s overly attached to his family.”

“Honestly, that might be why Judge was willing to give him up so easily,” Usopp says, shrugging when Nami quirks an eyebrow at him. “Think about it. We have a lot of things the man wants, but he very clearly thinks we’re a nation of uncouth barbarians. Why offer up a child he’s actually fond of under those circumstances?”

“Exactly.” Zoro nods.

“You shut up,” Nami barks. “I refuse to believe you thought this through that thoroughly in the roughly ten seconds between when you first laid eyes on the man and then agreed to marry him. At least ninety five percent of your actions out there were governed by your dick.”

“Believe what you want,” Zoro replies, having no real interest in arguing with her. “But the fact remains that the deal has been made, so now what?”

“‘Now what’, he asks. ‘Now what’!” Throwing her hands in the air, Nami makes a face that clearly says she’s searching for patience. “Well, among other things, we have to arrange to host one of the quickest royal marriages in human history.”

“Germa will be more focused on moving on soon, so I imagine it won’t have to be anything terribly fancy,” she continues without pausing for breath, “but there’s still going to need to be some pomp and circumstance. More importantly, though, I want to get a look at the actual wording of the proposed treaty before anything else. Oh, and congratulations, you’re going to have to get married fast enough that you won’t be able to invite anyone who’s not already in town.”

For the first time since she’d all but dragged him in here by the ear to yell at him, Zoro winces. “Rona won’t like that.”

“Among other things,” Nami scoffs. “Personally, I think she’s going to find a more pressing issue in her younger brother marrying a warmonger’s son.”

“Please, have you met Perona?”

Nami visibly grits her teeth and pierces him with a look. “Zoro, I am currently expending all of my willpower on not committing regicide in this very room. Would you like to keep antagonizing me, or would you like to live to see another day?”

Zoro wisely decides to drop this particular point, and turns to Usopp instead. “Nami is more than capable of sorting out the details around the actual wedding, but we’ll need to figure out where to put the prince himself.”

Usopp makes a face Zoro can’t quite parse out. “In what way?”

“Well, he can’t stay with me,” Zoro replies. “But I doubt it’d be appropriate to put him anywhere other than the royal wing. Someone will have to see to that.”

“Oh, of course,” Usopp says dryly. “How silly of me to expect that you’d be sharing a bedchamber with your husband.”

“He’s not my husband yet,” Zoro says, graciously ignoring the younger man’s tone. “And even once he is, I think it would be too much to expect him to commit to anything beyond the wedding itself, until and unless he’s comfortable here. See to it that he has his own personal chambers.”

Usopp once again gives him a look where he’s unsure of the meaning behind it, but he has the decency not to push. “Fine, most of the unoccupied rooms in that area were meant to host visiting royalty anyway. I’m sure it won’t be too hard to convert some into something more permanent.”

At this, Nami raises a warning finger. “Do not,” she says firmly, “have Franky help you. Lord knows what the man would do to the furnishings with all of his tinkering. The last thing we want is to cause further problems with Germa because the prince’s own bed has eaten him, or something equally ridiculous.”

“I still don’t think Judge would care,” Zoro says darkly.

Nami gives him a tired look. “You may be right,” she says finally. “Much though it pains me to admit it, you can be oddly perceptive when the mood strikes you.”

“And you are once again engaging in commentary that borders on treason, witch.” Zoro grunts. “One of these days, I really am going to have you thrown in the dungeons.”

“So you say,” she replies. “But we both know you’d be lost without me. For instance, it’s certainly not you who’s about to go straighten out this whole treaty mess into something we can hopefully live with, is it?”

Since they both know she’s right, Zoro neglects to answer.

*****
Nami’s prediction about this being one of the fastest royal engagements in history quickly turns out to be correct. Judge and his people have no desire to stay in Shimotsuki any longer than they have to, while Zoro and his people are equally keen to see the back of them. However, as Judge wants the wedding to happen before he departs, it’s scheduled to take place mere days after it was agreed to.

This news sends both Nami and Usopp into a panic, the pair of them adamant that they simply cannot complete all of the necessary preparations in such a short timespan. For his part, Zoro couldn’t care less about how fancy the ceremony is, but he wisely keeps such remarks to himself after the second time Nami hurls the nearest available object at his head,

“If you won’t do it for me, then maybe think about how your poor prince is going to feel if we make a hash of this,” she says when he ducks the wrought iron candlestick. “What if he has certain expectations for how he’d like his wedding to go, hmm?”

“If he does then he should have said so,” Zoro replies. “I’m not opposed to trying to accommodate whatever stipulations Germa may have, but they haven’t made any beyond ‘get married as soon as possible’.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Nami admits, the worst of her ire apparently soothed at least temporarily. “Have you spoken to your prince since that first meeting?”

“He’s not my prince,” Zoro grumbles, earning himself a disbelieving snort for his troubles. “But to answer your question, no, I haven’t. The Vinsmoke have been keeping to their ships ever since the agreement was made.”

“They really are a very odd family,” she muses. “You’d think they would have at least taken us up on our offer to host them in the castle during their stay. Although, truth be told, I’m more than glad that they didn’t.”

“You and me both,” Zoro says. “That one interaction with Judge left a bad taste in my mouth.”

“My, what a rude thing to say about your soon to be father-in-law,” Nami says, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. “I see you two aren’t about to become bosom buddies once this is over with.”

“Please never use that term where I can hear it again,” Zoro says, feeling pained. “Now, have you had a chance to look at the proposed treaty, or not?”

“I have,” she confirms, her countenance turning serious.

“And?”

She shrugs. “And it’s fine. Surprisingly so. There’s nothing about a pact of mutual aid, which is what I was most worried about. The entire focus is on their safe passage through our territory and then back out again once they choose to return home.”

“Strange, but something I can live with given that I was prepared to agree to it anyway,” Zoro says, scratching his chin. “I think you’re right, I think their main goal behind this, after the immediate one, was getting some kind of tie to Mihawk.”

“Who is not going to be happy about it,” Nami warns.

“Eh,” Zoro huffs. “Mihawk’s rarely happy with the things that I do, and since he’s not a signee on this treaty, he’s not actually bound by anything within it. If Judge thinks he can get the old bastard to do something he doesn’t want to do just because they’re about to become in-laws, he’s going to be sorely mistaken.”

“As always, I am in awe of your deep seeded familial bonds,” Nami says dryly. “Do me a favour and try not to piss your father off sufficiently enough that he decides to simply destroy Shimotsuki, rather than deal with you.”

“Don’t worry,” Zoro assures her. “Under those circumstances, he’d come for me and me alone.”

“Wonderful. Now then,” steeling herself like a woman who’s preparing for battle, Nami fixes him with a piercing stare. “There is something else we need to address before the wedding takes place.”

“That being?”

She keeps watching him, her expression never wavering. “We need to determine what you’re going to wear.”

Zoro groans.

*****
Despite certain parties’ predictions that it couldn’t be done, the wedding ceremony takes place on schedule. Furthermore, it goes off without a hitch, a fact which a dumbstruck looking Usopp declares must be a sign that the union has been blessed.

For his part, Zoro isn’t one to put stock in blessings or anything of that ilk. In particular as, all he did in this instance, was arrive at the appointed time (under Usopp’s direction), dressed in the appropriate attire (under Nami’s direction), and say yes whenever the officiant told him to. It wasn’t an event that required considerable mental acumen.

Prince Sanji stands to his right throughout the proceeding, one of his soft hands clasped in Zoro’s much coarser one. He too says nothing except as directed, but Zoro can’t help glancing surreptitiously at him while the officiant drones on, seemingly indefinitely.

The prince’s face is impassive, with his visible blue eye staring straight ahead. He looks resplendent in a white silk shirt, dark trousers, and knee high leather boots that have been polished until they shine - the ensemble completed by a red, floor length cloak that curls around his shoulders, held on by a clasp at his throat. Meanwhile, those same bracelets that Zoro had noticed during their first meeting peek out from under his sleeves as the only jewelry the prince has opted to wear, yet somehow pale in comparison to his golden hair that is once again flowing loosely over his shoulders.

Zoro feels an inappropriate urge to reach out and touch it, wanting to see if the strands are as soft as they look, but sternly reminds himself that such action is likely to see him be summarily murdered before the day is out.

Eventually, even the officiant runs out of meaningless platitudes. The vows are agreed to in quick succession, and then the doddering old man reaches towards the first of two cushions that are resting not far from his elbow.

Firstly, he picks up a chain, on which is threaded a simple goal band that he hands to Sanji. Biting his lip in the first sign of nerves he’s shown all afternoon, the prince carefully unhooks the clasp, and motions for Zoro to lean forward so that he can fasten it around his neck.

“Your Grace,” he murmurs, adjusting the chain until the ring rests against the centre of Zoro’s chest.

The touch of his fingertips against Zoro’s skin serve as a momentary distraction, but he’s quick to recover his senses after a pointed look from the officiant. Doing his best to appear calm, he picks up the remaining ring, this one without a chain to accompany it, and slips it over Sanji’s finger.

“Your Highness,” he says, figuring it’s only fair to respond in kind.

Apparently satisfied that they’ve gotten through this critical piece without screwing it up, the officiant nods. He then focuses his attention on the second of the two cushions, this one slightly larger than the former thanks to what it contains.

On it sits a small circlet, handcrafted by Franky in his forge to fit the prince’s exact measurements. Sanji dips his head when the officiant picks it up, allowing it to be nestled atop his brow with practiced ease.

The few assembled guests applaud politely as Sanji straightens back to his full height, the sound increasing slightly when he takes the hand Zoro offers him, and they turn to face the small crowd. Out of the corner of his eye, Zoro sees Vinsmoke Judge nod approvingly, and resolves to look elsewhere for the rest of the night.

This turns out to be easier said than done thanks to the seating arrangements at the wedding feast. Someone has seen to arrange it so that he and Sanji are seated alone at a table on a dias that gives them a view of the rest of the room, and leaves them starkly visible to anyone else in turn. Rude though it may be, Zoro finds himself looking rather longingly towards the table that boasts not only Nami and Usopp, but Johnny, Yosaku, and the rest of his friends who had managed to make it in time.

Next to him, Sanji’s attention is focused entirely on his meal. He doesn’t so much as glance at the spot where his father and siblings are seated, and Zoro can’t help but notice that, out of all the Vinsmoke, only Reiju ever seems to cast a glance their way.

Searching for something to say to break the ice, Zoro notes the mechanical way the prince is eating, and frowns. “Is the food not to your liking?”

“Hmm? Oh.” Swallowing the piece of meat he’s just popped in his mouth, the prince pats his lips dry with a napkin, and shrugs minutely. “No, Your Grace, it’s perfectly lovely, thank you.”

Rather than appease Zoro, suspicion that this statement is a lie only makes him frown harder. “If you’d prefer something else, all you need to do is ask. Germa didn’t provide us with any suggestions, so my kitchen staff opted to go with a traditional local fare.”

“And they’ve done a marvellous job of it.” Sanji assures him, although this comment is frankly in contrast to the way he’s now awkwardly twisting the linen napkin in his hands. “I’m sure it’s just - ah - nerves on my part. I’ve never been married before, you know.”

Zoro barks out a laugh at the quip, seemingly startling the prince, who flushes. “Apologies,” he says when he notices as much. “I don’t mean to poke fun.”

“It’s fine,” Sanji says. Returning the napkin to its proper place, he picks up his fork and resumes eating. “Do you happen to know what ingredients are in this sauce?”

“No, but I’m sure someone on staff will be happy to tell you,” Zoro says. “Are you positive there isn’t anything else we can get you that you’d like better?”

“Quite so,” Sanji replies. “Even if this wasn’t delicious, I make it a point never to waste food.”

“I see,” Zoro says, for lack of a better response. A quick glance around the room then makes him snort. “You’ll have to forgive me for saying so, Your Highness, but that doesn’t appear to be a sentiment most of your relatives share.”

Sanji follows his gaze just long enough to lock eyes with his blue haired brother, who smirks unpleasantly, and returns his attention to his meal. “No,” he says quietly after a moment, “I’m afraid it’s not.”

Zoro hums thoughtfully to himself before clearing his throat. “I understand they’re planning to depart at first light tomorrow. If you’d like me to arrange somewhere private for you to see them off, please let me know.”

“Thank you, Your Grace, but that won’t be necessary.” His posture stiff, Sanji stares woodenly ahead, seemingly mesmerized by the contents of his plate. “Judge saw to it that any such goodbyes were made prior to today’s ceremony. I gather he expected I’d be too busy to speak with them afterwards.”

Zoro hasn’t the faintest idea of what that’s supposed to mean, but contrary to what many of his friends would have you believe, he does know when it’s a bad time to push. The fact that he tends to ignore such warnings is another matter entirely.

“Well,” he says lamely. “Do let me know if you change your mind.”

“Of course, Your Grace.”

Zoro makes a mental note to have a discussion about the overuse of titles sometime in the near future. The people of Shimotsuki typically only refer to him by any of his when they’re intentionally trying to irritate him, and he’ll therefore be damned if he spends the rest of his life with a husband who does it by rote.

Figuring this can at least wait until tomorrow, however, he finishes the rest of his meal in silence, while beside him, Sanji does the same. Wiping his mouth on the back of one of his wrist guards, he notes that most of the guests seem to be done as well.

“Perhaps we should call it a night,” he suggests, catching Sanji’s eye. “Unless, you’d prefer to stay longer,” he adds, when he feels the prince tense beside him.

“No, that’s - that’s fine,” the other man says in a rush. “After you, My Lord.”

Zoro grimaces. That’s somehow even worse than ‘Your Grace’, and leaves him mentally reiterating his plan to nip the habit in the bud at the first available opportunity.

Signaling to a nearby page, he informs the boy that he and Sanji are about to take their leave, and inquires as to the status of the prince’s chambers. Advised in the affirmative that everything has been satisfactorily taken care of, he nods and pushes his chair back from the table.

“Your Highness,” he says, offering Sanji his hand. “I’m told your rooms are ready for you.”

“My rooms?” Sanji echoes, blinking in confusion. He then goes to say something further, but is drowned out by the sudden announcement that the royal couple have decided to take their leave from the hall.

The guests all climb to their feet, some of them even going so far as to applaud as Sanji and Zoro make their exit, walking arm in arm through the crowd. Only when the heavy wooden doors close behind them does the noise cut off.

“Hell,” Zoro says, breathing a sigh of relief despite his audience. “Please forgive me for saying so, but I’m not sorry that song and dance is over with.”

“If you wanted to leave then you wanted to leave,” Sanji replies. “It’s fine, but - what did you mean when you mentioned my rooms in there?”

Zoro cocks his head at him, feeling something crack in the process. “Didn’t anyone tell you?” He asks, frowning when the prince’s sole response is a sharp shake of his head. “I assumed you would want some space to call your own, given how significant the changes you’re facing must be. I’ve had a set of chambers put aside for you in the royal wing. They’re near mine, but entirely for your own use.”

“I … see.” The prince replies, although his expression suggests that he does nothing of the sort. “Then am I to go there after we use yours, or will you be coming with me first and leaving once we’re done?”

“Come again?” Zoro asks, having genuinely no idea what the man is getting at. “Done with what?”

For the first time in their brief acquaintance he sees a spark of something rather akin to exasperation flicker in the other man’s eye. It’s gone between one blink and the next, but he’s confident that he hadn’t imagined it.

His cheeks now developing a pinkish cast, Sanji looks down at their still joined arms. “Are you saying you don’t intend to - ahem - consummate the marriage tonight?”

Zoro’s brain screeches to a halt, and it takes him an embarrassingly long time to get it moving again. “I hadn’t planned on it,” he finally manages to choke out, feeling not unlike a fish out of water. “Were you?”

“I mean, if I can be honest, I’d rather hoped not to,” Sanji hedges. “We’ve only known each other for a few days, and we’ve spent very little time together during that span.”

“Exactly,” Zoro agrees, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “So why don’t you just let me show you to your rooms, and we can discuss the rest of it later?” Or never, as the case may be, he adds silently, having zero interest in taking part in a conversation that was bound to be painfully awkward at best.

“ … alright,” Sanji says after a moment’s hesitation. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m extremely sure,” Zoro insists, positive that his face must be as red as the prince’s. “If you’ll come with me, I’ll take you there, and I thought, perhaps tomorrow you’d let me arrange a tour of the castle for you.”

“Oh,” Sanji says, again sounding pleasantly surprised. “That sounds very nice, thank you.”

Nodding, Zoro gestures with his free hand and resolves to put this entire damnable conversation out of his head.

*****
Zoro is woken far earlier than he cares for by someone banging a heavy fist on his door. Groaning, he fights his way free of the blankets and furs that adorn his bed, rolling out and up onto his feet with as much grace as he can muster.

Not bothering to search for anything other than the sleep pants he’d spent the night in, he leaves his bedroom and crosses through his sitting area, intent only on opening the main door so he can make the infernal noise stop. Once that’s done, he glares out at Usopp, who stares back at him, completely unperturbed.

“Breakfast, Your Majesty?” He says, holding up the tray he’s carrying. “I figured you might have worked up an appetite after the day you had yesterday.”

“Get that smirk off your face or I’ll cut out your liver and feed it to you,” Zoro growls, his scowl deepening when all this does is make Usopp grin harder. “Why are you here, and bringing me breakfast in bed at that?”

“It was Nami’s idea,” Usopp explains. “She felt that eating in the main dining hall like usual might be a bit overwhelming for your prince on his first day here, so something more private might be a better idea.”

“Stop calling him my prince,” Zoro grunts, stepping aside to let the other man through. He glances down the hallway where he can barely make out the door to Sanji’s room and sighs. “Has he been up then yet?”

“I’m pretty sure I heard him moving around in there when I passed by,” Usopp says, setting the tray down on a small table. “But I wasn’t sure it’d be appropriate for me to bother him at this hour.”

“No, that you save for me,” Zoro grumbles. “I told him I’d give him a tour of the castle and its grounds today. Ask him what he’d like for breakfast and have the chefs send him up whatever he asks for. We can leave once we’re both done eating.”

“I’m sorry,” Usopp says then, his dark eyes sparkling impishly. “Did I hear that correctly? You’re going to give him a tour of this place? You, who after three years here still regularly gets lost on the way to your own bedroom?”

“I found it just fine last night, didn’t I?”

Usopp snickers. “Even a broken clock is right twice a day.”

Zoro gives serious thought to braining him with one of the muffins on his plate, but opts to bite into it instead. “Unless you’ve got something useful to add, do me a favour and go get started on the thing I actually asked you to do.”

“The Germa contingent have already left.”

“Hmm?” Glancing up at his friend, Zoro finds that all signs of amusement have left his face. “Really? That was even faster than I was expecting.”

“It seems they didn’t want to be here any more than we wanted it. Even their transport ships have already left the harbour,” Usopp says with a shrug. “I hope the prince won’t be too disappointed by their hasty departure.”

“He told me he’d already made his goodbyes last night,” Zoro says. “I hope he won’t be too disappointed in how long it’s taking anyone to feed him.”

“Subtly is not your strong suit, old friend.” Usopp replies dryly. “But I take your point in the spirit that it was intended. I’ll go find out what he wants and get him sorted. Should I ask him to join you in here to eat?”

“No, give him his space and just tell him to come find me when he’s ready. I’m not in any hurry.”

Nodding, Usopp vanishes out the door with a mocking bow. If he listens closely enough, Zoro thinks he can make out the faint sounds of him stopping by Sanji’s door, but the area soon falls silent again, except for the noise stemming from his own eating.

Once he’s satisfied his hunger, he washes quickly and tugs on a fresh tunic and breeches. It’s a simple outfit, likely more befitting a layman than a king, but Zoro’s never pretended to be something he’s not, and he isn’t about to start trying now, even if he’s got someone on hand he could impress.

When he’s finished dressing and Sanji still hasn’t appeared, he decides to do some stretching exercises while he waits. He’s in the middle of a set when he finally hears a quiet, unfamiliar knock on his door.

“It’s open,” he calls, switching to an upright position as the door opens. “Good morning.”

“To you as well,” Sanji replies. He’s dressed down today, still more formally than Zoro, in a white linen shirt with a ruffled collar and high waisted black pants that accentuate his shapely hips, but he looks more at ease than Zoro’s seen him to date.

He’s also tied his hair back, although his bangs are still covering the one eye like usual, and as Zoro watches, he tucks a stray curl behind his ear, his sleeve slipping down just far enough to reveal that he’s still sporting his usual bracelets. He’s notably forgone the circlet that he’s technically entitled to as Zoro’s consort, but his wedding band glints on his slim finger when his hand moves.

Belatedly realizing he’s staring, Zoro awkwardly clears his throat, suddenly feeling the weight of his own ring where it’s tucked carefully under his shirt. “Did you, uh, enjoy your breakfast?”

“Yes, thank you,” Sanji replies. “The kitchen staff were very … accommodating.”

“Glad to hear it,” Zoro says. “Are you still interested in that tour I mentioned?”

His face brightening, Sanji nods. “Very much so. I think Usopp should be back any minute to join us based on the estimate he gave me.”

“Usopp?” Zoro repeats.

“Yes?” Sanji says, looking suddenly unsure of himself. “He said you’d asked him to join and act as a, I suppose a tour guide of sorts because he knows the castle inside and out. Did I misunderstand him?”

“Oh, I’m sure you understood him just fine,” Zoro replies with a snort. “A word to the wise, Your Highness, Usopp is a good man and an even better friend, but he’s prone to exaggeration and flights of fancy. You should take most things that come out of his mouth with a grain of salt, unless the subject is a serious one.”

“I see,” Sanji says, his forehead wrinkling in confusion. “Does that mean he won’t be joining us then?”

“It’s no skin off my back if he does,” Zoro shrugs. “So long as you’re comfortable with it, he’s welcome to come along. And I will give him this, he does seem to know an infinite number of interesting tidbits about the castle.”

“That’s because the Great Captain Usopp has spent years exploring every nook, cranny, and crevice of our humble abode,” Usopp says, appearing as if summoned. “Not to mention, I’ve gathered a multitude of historical anecdotes throughout my detailed study of our land’s history.”

Zoro rolls his eye. “Translation: he’s a little weasel who likes to have places to hide whenever he’s in trouble, and he picks up tall tales to tell from his friends over at the forge.”

“You cut me to the quick, Your Majesty,” Usopp wails, clutching his chest theatrically. “And here I thought you loved my so-called ‘tall tales’.”

“They make for a decent way to pass a long winter’s evening,” Zoro concedes. “So what’s this I hear about you inviting yourself along this morning?”

Usopp gives him a flat look before cocking his head pointedly towards Sanji. “Do you really want me to tell him this early in the game? I mean, by all rights he should probably know sooner rather than later, but I figured I’d let you save face for at least a day or two.”

“I’m sorry,” Sanji says then, glancing back and forth between the two of them with a faint air of worry about him. “Is something the matter?”

Zoro sighs, making a mental note to come up with some form of retribution against Usopp when the younger man is least expecting it. “I sometimes,” he says stiltedly, “have difficulty with directions.”

“Lost, he means he gets lost,” Usopp helpfully clarifies, ignoring Zoro’s dirty look with all the confidence of a man who’s been on the receiving end of it dozens of times before and has lived to tell the tale. “He has ‘difficulty with directions’ in the sense that he’s completely incapable of following them even if you tattoo them on his forehead.”

Sanji makes a strangled sound that Zoro has no doubt is a poorly disguised laugh. “Forgive me, Your Grace,” he says, his eyes dancing when Zoro raises an eyebrow at him. “But am I to understand from this conversation that you occasionally lose your way in your own castle?”

“Only if by ‘occasionally’ you mean ‘routinely’,” Usopp adds thoughtfully. “Why, I’d say it’s only within the last couple of months that he’s started being able to successfully find his way from his own rooms to the training grounds and back again.”

“Usopp,” Zoro sighs, “if you keep talking like that, the only place you’re going to find your way to is the stockade.”

“Promises promises,” Usopp says loftily. “Now, am I leading this tour or not? I’m only asking because I need to know if I should prepare the guards to send out a search party in a day or two.”

This time Sanji entirely fails to stop his laugh from escaping, and it echoes around the hallway until he clamps an appalled hand over his mouth. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbles. “That was rude.”

“Pfft, what’s rude is you trying to imply my jokes aren’t funny,” Usopp insists. “Tell him, Zoro!”

“It’s fine to laugh at Usopp,” Zoro agrees solemnly. “The rest of us do it all the time.”

“I swear,” Usopp hisses, but Zoro cuts him off with a raised hand.

“I refuse to engage in this ridiculous argument any further,” he says, then offering his arm to Sanji to take. “I will, however, agree to this tour guide idea of yours, if only to shut you up.” To the still blushing prince he adds, “Where would you like to see first? The grounds are quite nice if you like that sort of thing.”

“Oh, that’s perfect,” Usopp says enthusiastically before Sanji has a chance to respond. “We can show you all the paths and gardens, including my own. Not to mention the stables, the training grounds, and the forge. Then by the time that’s finished, it’ll be probably be time for lunch, so we can come back inside and start with the kitchens.”

Sanji instantly perks up at this. “That sounds nice,” he says, shyly curling his hands around Zoro’s proffered arm. “What kind of things do you grow in the gardens?”

“It’s a mixture,” Usopp explains as the three of them start walking in the direction of the stairwell. “Many of the gardens are for show - decorative flowers, that sort of thing - but we do some fruit and vegetable farming within the castle walls. I myself also grow a number of herbs to be used as spices and the like.”

“Be extremely cautious if he ever offers you one of his homemade hot sauces,” Zoro warns. “Most of them could sear the taste buds right out of your mouth.”

Usopp snorts. “It’s not my fault you have the palate of an eighty year old man, Your Most Esteemed Royal Majesty - He Who Would Subsist Entirely On Rice and Meat If We Let Him.”

“That’s quite the title,” Sanji muses thoughtfully. “I don’t think it meshes well with most of your other epitaphs though.”

“Oh, you’ve heard those, have you?” Usopp asks before Zoro can do the same. “Well, let me tell you something, Your Highness. The Demon of the East here? Is actually a big pussycat at heart. Unless you’re an actual enemy, of course. Then the title is entirely deserved.”

“Usopp,” Zoro grunts, feeling his face heating and hating it. “You’re supposed to be telling him about the castle, not me.”

“Right, right.” They’ve reached the main entrance now, and Usopp stops talking long enough to shove the doors open. “Ta-dah,” he says, waving both hands in an expressive flourish. “I mean, obviously you’ve seen this part already since it’s how you came in yesterday, but isn’t it a nice day for a tour?”

“Very,” Sanji agrees. He’s seeming more and more at ease the longer Usopp talks, and Zoro feels something in his chest flutter when the blond’s eyes crinkle as he smiles. “Can we start with your herb gardens? I’d love to see them.”

His chest puffing out at this request, Usopp struts down the front steps, babbling all the way about what plants he has on hand, and the processes he uses to grow them. For his part, Sanji responds in kind, indirectly showcasing that he has considerable knowledge about their uses as foodstuff.

Zoro lets the chatter wash over him, content to let himself be dragged along from plot to plot until they’ve covered not only Usopp’s gardens, but the rest of them as well. Then it’s a quick stop in at the training grounds, which are largely empty after yesterday’s festivities, a wander through the stableyard, which seems to pique Sanji’s interest almost as much as the gardens had, and then finally the forge.

Smoke is billowing from the chimney as they approach, indicating that its usual occupant is hard at work inside, thereby in turn causing Zoro and Usopp to exchange cautious glances.

“Have you any idea what his latest project is?” Zoro asks.

“Not a clue,” Usopp replies. “But I do know he had to stall out on something when you asked him to make the rings and His Highness’ crown. He’s probably gone back to whatever it was by now.”

“Excellent,” Zoro says. “Why don’t you go ask him what that is and if it’s safe to come in?”

“Traitor,” Usopp mutters.

“King,” Zoro replies, pointing at himself with a sunny smile.

“You say that as if it means anything,” Usopp sniffs. Then he grips the door to the forge, edging it open ever so slightly, just enough for him to peer inside. “Oi, Franky! Are you up for some visitors this morning?”

The sound of metal smacking against metal cuts off abruptly, and is followed by a booming voice that echoes out of the darkness. “Longnose! Come on in, little brother, and bring your friends with you.”

This invitation given, Usopp hauls the door the rest of the way open, revealing the interior of the forge, and the blacksmith who’s laid claim to it for as long as Zoro’s been in Shimotsuki. Grinning widely when he spots them, Franky shoves back the dark lensed goggles he’s wearing, settling them atop his brilliantly blue hair as he turns the rest of the way around.

“Your Majesty,” he says. “Or rather Your Majesties, I imagine.” His grin somehow getting impossibly bigger, the huge man lumbers forward and offers Sanji a ham sized fist to shake. “Pleased to meet you.”

“I think technically you’re supposed to bow,” Usopp says in a stage whisper that causes both Zoro and Franky to roll their eyes. “What?”

“Bowing isn’t necessary on my end,” Sanji says hurriedly. Uncurling his left hand from around Zoro’s arm, he accepts the other man’s grip. “Please to meet you as well …?”

“Franky,” the blacksmith replies. “It’s not my real name, but only my wife gets to call me that, and under very specific circumstances to boot. I’m the fellow who’s handiwork you’ve got on your finger there. I don’t mean to brag, but it looks like it fits like a glove.”

“It really does,” Sanji says, taking his hand back and splaying his fingers out so he can examine the ring. “I can hardly feel that it’s there.”

“Welcome,” Franky says, with an informal salute. “Jewelry’s usually a little outside my bailiwick, but every man needs to step away from his comfort zone every now and again, don’t you think?”

“I’m sure,” Sanji agrees. “You look busy, though. We shouldn’t take up much more of your time.”

Franky makes a dismissive noise, clearly unbothered, and they chat a little longer until Zoro feels his stomach start to grumble. Reminded of Usopp’s suggestion that they make lunch their next stop on the tour, he gently tries to steer the conversation towards a natural end point.

“Yes, I’m starting to get hungry too,” Sanji says, when this doesn’t work and he just comes right out and says it. “I also want to see these kitchens you keep mentioning.”

They invite Franky to join them, but the blacksmith begs off, claiming he’s got work to do. “If you stop by the library, though, please say hello to my lady, and tell her I’ll be home for supper this evening.”

“What an … interesting individual,” Sanji remarks as they step outside of the forge, the door swinging shut behind him. “Does he always dress so … uniquely?”

“You mean does he ever wear pants?” Zoro asks dryly. “Unfortunately not.”

“He even has special underwear for formal events,” Usopp adds. “If he’d been at the ceremony yesterday, your whole family would have gotten an eyeful. Which, for the record, is a large part of why he wasn’t there.”

“Gracious,” Sanji murmurs. “Still, he seems very nice.”

“Yes, Franky’s good people.” Usopp says. “He’s always willing to lend a hand, especially for anyone who’s tinkering away on their own projects. For instance, one time I was trying to come up with …”

Usopp continues to regale them with stories of his and Franky’s exploits as they make their way back to the castle. Warming to his subject, and likely appreciating the rapt audience that the Vinsmoke prince has so far provided, the longnosed man speaks at a pace that’s difficult to keep up with, his hands dancing back and forth as their motions add to his depictions.

Just when Zoro’s beginning to think that nothing will be able to stem the flow of words, Usopp comes to an abrupt halt, running a hand through his dark curls as glances around sheepishly. “Ah,” he says, “it appears we’ve reached our next destination.”

The kitchens of Shimotsuki’s castle are as welcoming as ever. Due to the small stature of the place - at least in comparison to most other palaces - these rooms see a heavy volume of traffic, with many of the residents choosing to take their meals where they’re made whenever the mood strikes them. Indeed, a quick glance around the room reveals Nami sitting near the back, accompanied by a familiar dark haired woman who’s sipping from a cup of tea.

“Nami! Robin!” Usopp calls, catching their attention with a wave of his hand. “Do you mind if we join you?”

“Please,” Robin says, nodding for them to come over. Her expression is much less wary than Nami’s, but even the redhead makes no move to protest having the three men join them. “This must be our newest arrival.”

“Yeah, this is him,” Zoro acknowledges, grinning faintly when he sees Robin extend an elegant hand in Sanji’s direction.

“Nico Robin,” she says, giving the prince one of her famous tight lipped smiles. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Highness.”

“The pleasure is mine, I’m sure,” Sanji replies, kissing the back of her hand as he bows low. “Thank you for offering us a seat at your table.”

“Not at all,” Robin replies, drawing her hand back. “Although, I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep you company for long. I’m in the middle of a detailed research project back in the library, and I have only as much spare time as it will take to finish my meal.”

“I’m sorry, did you just say you work in the library?” Sanji asks, smiling when she nods. “Then are you by chance the lovely wife that the blacksmith I just met asked me to pass his compliments on to?”

“If you mean, Franky, then yes.” Nami says from where she’s studiously peeling the rind off a tangerine. “She is the one who lost her mind and married that lunatic.”

“He’s a good man and a wonderful husband,” Robin replies without missing a beat. “Would that everyone in the world were gifted with the opportunity to find their perfect match.”

“Indeed,” Sanji says, his eyes tightening slightly. “But on that note, I don’t suppose you ladies have any recommendations when it comes to lunch today?”

“I had a very nice sandwich, and Nami is still making her way through her fruit salad.” Robin notes. “Many people seem to be going for the spiced fish, however.”

“Sea king meat,” Usopp interjects, nodding back towards the stove that takes up a large portion of one wall. “A few of the locals have a real knack for hunting the things, and one alone can feed an entire village.”

“So no one in Shimotsuki ever goes hungry?” Sanji asks.

“Not on my watch,” Zoro cuts in. “Sometimes things can be a little lean during the winter if the crops aren’t as plentiful as we might hope, but we open up the castle if that ever looks like it might be a concern. So far there’s always been enough to go around.”

“Well, that’s certainly good to know,” Sanji says after a moment of contemplative silence. “We’re not always so lucky in the north. Regardless,” he adds in a clear bid to lighten the mood. “I am hungry, and I’m equally anxious to get back to the tour. Shall we eat?”

*****
The rest of the tour goes off without a hitch, and Sanji proves much more adept at retaining directions than Zoro is because it seems to take him no time at all before he has the layout of the castle memorized. Despite this, however, he doesn’t appear to put his newfound knowledge to much use.

No doubt it’s quite difficult to leave the only home you’ve ever known and wind up someplace where you don’t know a single soul, so Zoro’s making a point not to push the issue. Still, he can’t help but wonder if the prince isn’t miserable, what with the sheer amount of time he spends holed up in his rooms.

They take their meals together daily, sometimes in the main dining hall, and other times in the smaller, more private dining room, but other than that they have very little contact. Sources have told Zoro that Sanji sometimes ventures out to visit the library or walk through the gardens, which seems to be the extent of his engagement with Shimotsuki.

Zoro’s no doctor, but he doesn’t have to be to know that’s not healthy. As much as he doesn’t want to force Sanji into situations that make him uncomfortable, he also doesn’t want to essentially abandon him with nothing to do and no one to talk to either.

He tries to broach the subject a couple of times when it’s just the two of them having supper. Unfortunately, he must do a poor job of getting his point across because all Sanji does is flash him a tight smile that doesn’t meet his eyes and assure him that he has plenty to occupy himself with.

For weeks Zoro proceeds to assume this is a lie since he never sees the Germa prince actually do anything. It’s only after he’s on his way back from a late night training session with Johnny and Yosaku and the damned hallways rearrange themselves on him that he realizes he’s mistaken.

The smell of freshly baked bread reaches his nostrils as he walks, alerting him to the fact that he’s somewhere in the vicinity of the kitchen. Deciding that a snack can’t hurt after the bout he’s just had, he follows his nose, intent on slipping quietly in and out without causing too much of a fuss.

One of the two kitchen doors is slightly ajar when he arrives, the sound of someone humming to themselves as they work drifting out into the hallway. Not recognizing the tune, Zoro pushes the door open far enough to let him pass, only to startle at what he finds.

He’d assumed that whoever was behind the smells he’d stumbled over was one of the regular chefs putting in a little extra time. In that, he couldn’t be more wrong, and Sanji whirls around like a spooked deer when he clears his throat.

“Your Grace!” He yelps, causing Zoro to groan inwardly. They’ve had multiple conversations about the overuse of titles at this point, but try as he might, Zoro can’t get the blond to call him by his first name. So far the best they’ve managed to achieve is sometimes he calls him nothing at all.

“Your Highness,” he replies tiredly. “My apologies for startling you. I had no idea you were down here.”

“Yes, well, I - I - ” Apparently giving up on trying to say anything coherent, Sanji shrugs instead, his mouth curving down in an unhappy frown. “I’m sorry,” he says finally. “I should have asked for permission to be in here.”

“Don’t see why,” Zoro replies, glancing around the room until he finds a rack with a bunch of pastries cooling on it. “Especially if you’re behind whatever the hell it is that smells so good.”

“They’re croissants,” Sanji says, following his gaze. “I thought people might enjoy them at breakfast tomorrow.”

“People might,” Zoro agrees, “but will you be terribly offended if I steal one now?”

“They might still be too hot,” Sanji says dubiously, but that’s not an outright no, and therefore isn’t enough to stop Zoro. Grinning with anticipation, he reaches forward and snags one off the rack.

“S’good,” he mumbles around a large bite of flaky pastry, one of his cheeks bulging in a way that would make Nami wince if she were here to see it. “Where’d you learn to make ‘em?”

“Someone in Germa taught me,” is the guarded reply. “Among other things.”

“Yeah?” Zoro asks, taking another bite. “Do you just bake, or - ?”

The question causes one of those rare sparks he gets to see in the prince’s eyes every now and again. “If you can name it,” he says, raising his chin pointedly, “I can cook it.”

“Does that include onigiri?” Zoro asks, leaning forward eagerly. “I love the stuff, and you’d think it’d be common enough for someone around here to be able to make a decent batch, but I’ll be damned if I’ve managed to track down someone who can.”

Sanji blinks at him. “Are - are you asking me to cook for you?”

“Uhh, not if you’re not feeling inclined to do so.” Zoro replies, realizing belatedly that this was perhaps a somewhat rude request to make of the man. “I only meant - that is, if you were looking for things to try, I wouldn’t be opposed to onigiri being one of them.”

“So,” Sanji says then, speaking slowly like he’s having difficulty parsing out what’s happening. “Am I in trouble or not?”

Now it’s Zoro’s turn to be confused. Chewing the last bite of croissant, he swallows it and then clears his throat. “Why would you be in trouble?”

“Because,” Sanji replies tersely, rubbing absently at one of his wrists. “I’ve never not been in trouble when getting caught in a kitchen.”

Zoro feels his eyebrows rise without his conscious permission. “You just told me you can cook anything, which presumably means you have ample practice in places like this.”

“Quite,” Sanji agrees, his voice clipped. “Unfortunately, I also have ample practice in facing Judge’s wrath after ignoring his many many demands that I stop wasting my time on activities that are ‘beneath my station’.”

Zoro’s well aware by this point that there’s no love lost between father and son. This is the closest Sanji’s ever come to actively criticizing the Vinsmoke patriarch in his presence, however, so he knows the culinary issue must have been a serious cause of strife between them.

Part of him desperately wants to press for further information - to ask if the nature of the two’s relationship was exactly as contentious as he’s starting to suspect - but one look at Sanji’s pinched face is enough to convince him that’s a bad idea. If he prods into the prince’s history now, all he’s going to run into are whatever walls the man can put up in time.

Sighing, he resolves to spend some time contemplating how best to approach the situation at a later date, but decides to let it go for now. “I don’t care if you want to cook,” he says in answer to Sanji’s earlier question. “Spend as much time in here as you like.”

“Really?” Sanji’s gaze still seems suspicious, but he’s stopped the awkward rubbing motion he’d been doing, and there’s something that looks an awful lot like hope lurking in his eyes.

“Really.” Zoro replies, opting to blame how quickly he’d eaten his croissant for the swooping sensation in his stomach when Sanji turns a genuine, delighted smile on him. “Hell, if whatever else you can make is even half as good as what you’ve got in here, we might as well just appoint you head chef and be done with it.”

“I don’t imagine your subjects would approve of that.” Sanji says, ducking his head.

Zoro snorts. “Feed those to a few of them, and then come try and repeat that sentence with a straight face.”

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d just as soon keep this between you and I for now,” Sanji informs him. “But also, regarding what you asked me earlier. Yes, I can.”

“Can what?”

“Make onigiri,” Sanji clarifies. “It’s relatively simple, so long as you have the right ingredients.”

“Oh, well, then perhaps if the urge ever strikes you, you’ll let me try some.” Zoro says. “But I should get out of your hair. I’ve taken up enough of your time. Have a good evening.”

This time, the smile that Sanji gives him is no less genuine, for all that it’s smaller than its predecessor. “You too, Your Grace.”

Zoro offers him a smile of his own, nearly collides with a countertop as he tries to leave, and awkwardly flees before he can do something even more embarrassing.

*****
Having something to talk about helps. It doesn’t change the fact that their marriage remains largely contractual in nature, but at least they’re no longer left stewing in awkward silence when they wind up in the same room together. Even better, they wind up in the same room together much more frequently.

It quickly becomes something of an open secret that Prince Sanji loves to cook and possesses a talent for it that’s unrivalled by anyone else in Shimotsuki. He refuses to confirm this publicly, and to date, Zoro’s the only person who’s been allowed to watch him work, but the sheer quantity of food the man churns out can’t be hidden, and most mornings the palace’s occupants awake to find a veritable mountain of treats already waiting for them in the kitchen.

For his part, watching Sanji work soon becomes one of Zoro’s favourite ways to spend an evening. He doesn’t do it every night, not wanting to intrude, and even Sanji himself won’t enter the kitchen if someone else is in there working late, but the times when he’s permitted to simply sit back and observe the prince in his element feel like a rare gift he’s meant to treasure.

Sanji flourishes in the kitchen, is the thing. The second he steps in front of the stove or picks up a cutting knife or - or any number of other possible tasks, the implacable mask he seems to always be wearing melts away, leaving behind a competent, quick witted man, with a tongue sharp enough to flay anyone who dares impede his work.

Even, as it turns out, if that someone is his own husband.

“Tch! God as my witness, if Your Mossy Majesty doesn’t get those disgusting boots of yours off that table this instant, I will not be held responsible for my actions.”

Cracking his good eye open from where he’s been reclined back in his seat in the kitchen, Zoro grins up at his husband, who’s currently leaning over him with his arms crossed and his lovely face contorted into a ferocious scowl. “You have flour on your nose,” he says cheekily. “Again.”

Sanji blinks, one hand coming up to brush at the offending ingredient before he seemingly thinks better of it and plants his hands on his hips instead. “Never you mind that,” he says primly. “Your boots, Zoro. I’ve told you a dozen times or more not to prop your feet on the tables in here.”

“But I’m more comfortable this way.” Zoro whines, although inwardly he’s busy revelling in Sanji’s rare use of his given name. Add that to the earlier insult, and it appears the prince’s well-heeled persona has been thoroughly put to bed for the night. “It’s a better position for napping in.”

“It’s almost eleven o’clock in the evening,” Sanji replies, rolling his eyes. “That’s not a time for napping, it’s a time for going to sleep in your own bed.”

“Can’t do that,” Zoro says glibly, his grin broadening at the exact same rate Sanji’s scowl deepens. “I want to see what you’re making.”

“They’re strawberry tarts with sugared frosting,” Sanji replies promptly. “You won’t like them.”

Zoro wrinkles his nose at this because Sanji’s right, that definitely sounds like something his taste buds won’t enjoy. “You’re making food for everyone in the castle except me then,” he grumbles. “That’s rude.”

Sanji’s answering sigh indicates he’s both unmoved and unimpressed by Zoro’s plight. “I specifically made an entire plate of onigiri just for you last night. You’re hardly suffering, Your Grace.”

“So you say,” Zoro demures. “But that was last night. Whereas tonight it seems I’ve been cruelly abandoned, left to my own devices and to fend for myself if I’m to have any hope of finding sustenance.”

One of Sanji’s hands comes up, and his pointer finger waggles ominously mere inches away from Zoro’s face. “Touch anything in my kitchen and I’ll carve out your other eye.”

Zoro has half a mind to pretend to bite at the waving digit, but he becomes distracted when he gets a closer look at Sanji’s hand. The other man has his sleeves rolled up to try and avoid getting food on them, but the slim gold band he wears on his wrist is in the same spot as ever.

A quick glance at Sanji’s other arm reveals that the matching bracelet is likewise in place, although his wedding ring has notably been removed. Since Zoro knows full well it’s resting in a tiny dish near the sink like it is every night that Sanji comes here, this makes him more intrigued than ever regarding the story behind the bracelets.

“How come you never take those off?” He asks, nodding at each piece of jewelry in turn. “Aren’t you worried about getting them dirty in here?”

Zoro’s expecting Sanji to make some kind of irritable quip about how the only dirt he’s worried about is the stuff that’s come in on Zoro himself. He’s most assuredly not expecting for the prince to turn pale and yank both his sleeves down, effectively hiding the bracelets from view.

“It’s nothing,” he says, the lie as blatant as any Zoro’s ever heard as he refuses to meet his gaze. “Leave it alone.”

Leave it alone, he says. Not ‘Leave it alone, please’ or ‘I’d appreciate it if you’d leave it alone’, or any number of possible ways the prince might have softened the request. It was a clear and concise order, something Sanji never gives him unless it’s regarding the sanctity of the kitchen.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Zoro says carefully. “I was merely curious.”

“Well, kindly do me a favour and find something else to be curious about.” Sanji replies, and as Zoro watches, he crosses his arms over his chest, but in such a way that his hands are largely shielded from view, as if he’s trying to pretend they’re entirely absent.

Rather than do anything to sate Zoro’s interest, this strange behaviour only serves to make it ratchet up even more. It also, if he’s being honest, has him feeling somewhat concerned. Sanji routinely keeps things from him, he knows this, but he usually does it through deflection. A reaction this blatant isn’t like him.

He glances at Sanji’s arms again, just able to spy a glimpse of gold where the left hand bracelet is peeking out from beneath the man’s sleeve. It sits there, seeming completely innocuous, even though every last one of Zoro’s senses is screaming this isn’t the case.

“Do you … not want to take them off?” He hedges, only to rear back at the look of pure fury Sanji shoots him.

“This isn’t you doing as I asked,” the blond snaps, his blue eyes flashing dangerously. “I said leave it alone, Your Majesty.”

“No,” Zoro replies, convinced that doing so would be a mistake. “You’re upset, and I want to know why.”

His response clearly catches Sanji off guard, and the man freezes, his countenance suggesting he has no idea what to make of this. “Why do you want to know why?”

“So I can try to help, of course.” Zoro replies, barely resisting the urge to roll his good eye at the notion of having to explain something so basic.

Except apparently it’s not obvious at all. Sanji’s eyes go wide following the declaration, and he takes an aborted step back, like he’s not sure if he should run or not. “You’d - you want to - ?” He starts, stumbling over his words in a way Zoro’s never seen him do before.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says next, his eyes now darting all around the room, landing anywhere but on Zoro’s face. “There’s nothing you can do in this instance.”

“What instance?” Zoro asks, beginning to feel a little exasperated with the way they’re going in circles. “Look, if you don’t want to take the things off, then say so, but if you do, I don’t see why you don’t simply remove them.”

“Because I’m quite fond of my hands!” Sanji snaps, his voice several pitches higher than normal. “And given that tampering with these thrice cursed bracelets will remove them as well, I’m afraid I’m rather stuck with the situation as it is.”

Zoro needs a moment to parse out what the hell that means, but once he does, he straightens in his seat, the sound of his boots hitting the floor echoing throughout the now silent room.

“Excuse me?”

*****
“Would you please sit still, Zoro? I’m trying to do some exceedingly delicate work here, and you pacing around like a caged animal is not helping.”

Zoro shoots Usopp a dirty look, but makes no move to stop his attempts to wear a path in the floor of the sitting room located in Sanji’s chambers. Instead, he keeps right on going, while his keen eyed friend peers down at one of the two bands encircling his husband’s wrists.

“I’ll stop pacing when you do as I’ve asked,” he growls. “Get those things off of him.”

“We’re trying, Your Grace,” Franky pipes up from where he’s sorting through the toolkit he’d brought with him after Zoro had summoned them both. “But given what His Highness has been able to tell us about the contraptions, this isn’t an operation that can be rushed.”

“Also,” he adds somewhat grumpily. “Please forgive me for saying so, but the late hour isn’t exactly helping the situation.”

Zoro’s resulting glare is enough to make even the towering blacksmith cringe away from him, and he’d apologize, but he’s just learned that Sanji’s spent the past two months living in constant fear that his precious hands could be destroyed at any moment. Under the circumstances, he thinks he’s handling the news rather well.

The same, unfortunately, cannot be said for Sanji, who’s getting increasingly agitated the longer he’s stuck letting Usopp and Franky prod at him.

“This really isn’t necessary,” the prince says, making a vain attempt to pull his captured hand from Usopp’s grasp. “More importantly, it’s dangerous. Not only for me, but for anyone who might get caught in the blast while working on them.”

Usopp shudders at this, but to his credit makes no move to stop what he’s doing. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take, Your Highness,” he says, his voice remarkably calm given the circumstances. “But I will say you’d make my job much easier if you’d stop trying to wriggle away from me. I need to get a good look at the locking mechanism.”

“Which is inside the cuff itself,” Sanji says exasperatedly. “They both are. So, I think we should all stop poking at them and leave the whole mess be.”

“Do you actually want the damned things to stay on?” Zoro demands, whirling on him incredulously.

“Well … no.” Sanji says, refusing to meet his eye. “But I’m afraid it’s the least awful option under the circumstances.”

“But nothing,” Zoro grunts, resuming his pacing. “Get them off, Usopp.”

“I heard you the first dozen times,” Usopp mutters. Flapping a hand behind him, he motions for Franky’s attention. “Give me the sharpest magnifying eyepiece you have, and bring me some better light. I need to get a good look inside the keyhole.”

Franky happily obliges him with the requested items, and positions himself to the side so that he won’t impede the light from the lantern. “Can you really see that well?”

“Ask Zoro,” Usopp says, not looking up from what he’s doing. “He has firsthand experience with it.”

“He’s very good.” Zoro agrees. Although who he’s trying to reassure at this point, he’s not entirely certain. “If anyone can do it, it’s Usopp.”

“And the fact that he’s willing to admit that out loud should tell us all how serious the situation is.” Usopp says glibly, earning himself a weak smile from Sanji. “Good news, though. The magnification on these lenses appears to be sufficient, and I can see the tumblers.”

“Meaning?” Zoro asks.

“Meaning that, provided I can find a tool with sharp enough tines, I can likely unlock them. Though I’m going to leave it up to Sanji whether or not he wants to take the risk.”

As one, every man in the room turns to look at the blond, who bites his lip nervously. “I desperately want them off,” he says, “but …” He trails off with a shrug.

“Right then,” Usopp says brightly. “Why don’t we first see what Franky has on hand that I can use, and if he’s got something that’ll work - ”

Franky holds up a pair of parchment thin metal rods without another word.

“ - ah. Well, I guess the decision is yours then, Sanji. But remember,” Usopp glances down at the prince’s hand, which is visibly trembling in his grip. “You’re going to have to hold completely still if I’m to have any hope of succeeding here.”

“I’m afraid that’s easier said than done,” Sanji mumbles, dredging up a pale imitation of a smile from somewhere. “I appear to have come down with a rather serious case of nerves.”

Usopp doesn’t appear to know what to say to this, and neither does Franky. For his part, Zoro feels likewise unsure, but he’s always been better with actions than words regardless. Completing his last circuit around the room, he grabs a chair on his way by, and plants it down in front of Sanji.

The prince opens his mouth, no doubt to ask what the hell he’s doing, but frowns instead when Zoro straddles the chair and takes his pale hand in his. “What are you doing?”

“I trust Usopp,” Zoro says. “If he’s confident enough to risk himself in this, then so am I.”

“But no pressure,” Usopp mutters, while Sanji’s eyes practically bug out of his head.

“You can’t be serious,” the blond hisses. “Have you gone mad?”

“I trust Usopp,” Zoro repeats stubbornly.

“Fine.” Sanji huffs, some, albeit not all, of the tension leaching out of him. “But I do hope you won’t take it out on me if this blows up in our faces. Quite literally, as the case may be.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Zoro says. He can’t feel any tremors anymore, so he nods at Usopp. “Go ahead.”

Sanji sucks in a deep breath when Usopp first presses one of the tines into the keyhole, his spine going rigid, even as he visibly wills himself not to move his hands. In answer, Zoro strokes a thumb over his knuckles, hoping it might provide even a slim modicum of comfort.

“You’re doing very well,” he murmurs.

“Thank you,” Usopp replies, the gravity of the situation the only thing that keeps Zoro from kicking him. “However, if we could all just keep quiet and let me concentrate, that would be lovely.”

The room falls silent but for the faint scraping of the tines against the inner mechanism of the cuffs. All four of them watch anxiously as Usopp works, until there’s an audible clicking noise, and the first cuff pops open.

“I’ve got it,” Zoro says, catching it with his free hand. He then passes it off to Franky, who places it in a metal container, while Usopp shifts his focus to the second cuff. “Give me your other hand.”

Blushing, Sanji does as requested, and they repeat the same process again, if slightly quicker this time. Sanji makes a choking sound in the back of his throat when the second cuff slips free, a fact Zoro doesn’t miss anymore than he does the decidedly watery sheen now affecting the man’s eyes.

Wanting to give him some breathing room, Zoro glances down, and is appalled to find a matching pair of purple bruises wrapped around Sanji’s wrists, an indication that the cuffs had been causing pain as well as panic throughout the entirety of their stay.

He turns to Franky, who’s still holding the now closed container wherein the cuffs are located. “Melt those vile things down in your forge, and have whatever remains tossed into the ocean. I refuse to have them stay within Shimotsuki’s borders.”

“Don’t you think that’s slight overkill?” Sanji asks, smiling weakly when Zoro looks at him.

“No.” Zoro says flatly, only now releasing his grip on the other man’s hands. “I don’t.”

“See to it, Franky,” he tells the blacksmith, who nods. “And Usopp - good work. Thank you.”

“Yes, thank you.” Sanji murmurs from where he’s now staring at his wrists like he’s never seen them before. “I - don’t know what else to say.”

“There’s nothing you have to say,” Usopp assures him, grinning widely now that the danger has passed. “It was all in a day’s work for the Great Captain Usopp.”

“I’ll have to cook you something to show my appreciation,” Sanji tells him. “It’s the least I can do.”

“That won’t be necessary, but I won’t stop you if you insist,” Usopp replies. “I do ask that you at least wait until morning, however, as I expect the rush of adrenaline will wear off any moment now. I suspect I should be getting to bed.”

“Of course,” Sanji says. “But - thank you, Usopp. Truly.”

The longnosed man nods, and then turns to follow Franky out of the room. The door closes behind them with a soft thump, leaving Zoro and Sanji alone for the first time since Zoro’d woken up half the castle shouting for his friends.

They eye each other, neither of them apparently knowing what to say, and Zoro finds his attention once again drawn to the nasty bruises spanning his husband’s wrists. “I have something that might help with those,” he says, nodding at the markings. “If you’ll wait here, I’ll go get it.”

“I - alright,” Sanji says after a moment’s contemplation.

Nodding stiffly, Zoro exits the room, trying to remember where he’d left the item he’s thinking of.

*****
It takes him longer to find the tiny jar he’s after than he expects, but he eventually locates both it and a roll of bandages stashed inside a cabinet in his bedroom. Unstoppering the jar, he takes a cautious sniff, and finds the ointment just as pungent as ever. Assuming that means its potency is still intact, he returns to Sanji’s chambers with his prizes.

Sanji hasn’t moved from his seat by the fireplace. He’s still planted in the high backed chair, skimming the fingers of one hand over the wrist of the other with an unreadable expression on his face.

Since he doesn’t seem to have noticed his return, Zoro clears his throat to announce his presence. “My apologies,” he says when the noise makes the prince jump. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s alright,” Sanji replies, rallying with impressive speed. “I’m afraid I’m a little lost in my own head at the moment, that’s all.”

“Mhm,” Zoro says, for lack of anything better. He holds up the items in his hands, “Perhaps this might help.”

“What is it?” Sanji asks, watching him somewhat warily as he crosses the room and drops down into the chair across from him.

“It’s a salve Chopper makes,” Zoro explains, once again pulling the stopper out of the bottle. “It’s meant to soothe some of the ache from bruises and promote healing as well.”

Sanji’s wary look morphs into one of more genuine confusion. “ … Chopper?”

“The palace doctor,” Zoro clarifies. “Haven’t you met him yet?”

“Huh,” he adds when the other man shakes his head. “Well then, you should. I think you’d like him. He’s very kind, and he’s the best there is at what he does.”

“I’ll be sure to visit him when I have a chance,” Sanji murmurs. “But if that’s all this is, I’ve no doubt I can handle it myself. You don’t need to help.”

“Yes,” Zoro says firmly, “I do. Now, will you let me see your hands?”

Slowly, almost cautiously, Sanji offers them up. From this close a vantage point, the dark rings stand out even more starkly against the lily white skin of his wrists, and Zoro feels bile rise in his throat at the sight.

Needing a distraction, he sets about unrolling the bandages, wanting the strips of cloth to be ready as soon as the ointment is applied. Belatedly realizing that he’d forgotten to bring something to cut them with, he measures out the necessary length, and then snaps it off with his teeth.

“That can hardly be sanitary,” Sanji murmurs, but makes no real move to stop him.

The materials prepared, Zoro balances the jar in his lap, and carefully picks up Sanji’s closest hand, holding it aloft so that he has full access to the wound. Next, he dips two fingers into the jar, collecting enough of the salve to begin smearing over the wound.

“Oh, that does feel better,” Sanji says, sounding surprised. His brow furrows as he watches Zoro studiously, and he cocks his head to the side. “What’s in it, do you know?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Zoro admits. Truth be told, he doesn’t usually use the stuff himself, merely accepting it whenever Chopper forces it on him, and then hiding it away until the doctor eventually gives up on nagging him.

Sanji says nothing further, opting instead to sit quietly and let Zoro work. Neither of them speaks again until Zoro has finished winding the second bandage around Sanji’s wrist, tying it tightly enough that it won’t come off, but not so harshly that it’ll hurt.

“There,” he says for lack of anything better. “All finished.”

“I can see that,” Sanji says. Drawing his arms back, he raises them slightly to inspect Zoro’s handiwork. “That feels much better. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” Zoro growls, feeling suddenly furious. “I let you remain in that state for months. I should have asked you about those terrible things sooner.”

“I doubt I would have told you,” Sanji replies absently, most of his attention still focused on his wrists. Then his eyes go wide, as if it’s taken him a moment to realize what he’s said. “I mean - ”

Zoro stares back at him when he lifts his head, an unidentifiable storm of emotions churning in his gut as he finally asks the question that’s been eating away at him for the past several hours. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Sanji recoils, rearing back like a trapped animal in the wake of Zoro’s words. “I - ” He bites his lip, looking away. “I don’t want to say.”

Zoro sighs, all the fight evaporating from him as quickly as it had arrived. “Fine,” he says tiredly. “I suppose it’s none of my business, anyway. Not when you get down to it. I’ll leave you to get some rest now.”

He stands, intending to return to his own rooms, only to be stopped by a quiet voice behind him.

“I thought you knew.”

Zoro stiffens, jerking around like a marionette on the most ungainly set of strings, until he can stare down at his still seated husband. “What?”

“I thought you knew,” Sanji repeats, and to his credit, he meets Zoro’s gaze head on. “I mean, at least at first I did. But once I started to realize that assumption was probably incorrect, I didn’t know what to do about it, so I kept the matter to myself.”

Zoro needs a moment to compose himself. “You thought,” he says, unable to feel anything beyond the sense of horror that’s ratcheting in his chest, “that I would willingly leave you in such a state? With those monstrous things on your hands? Why?”

“Because Judge hates me.” Sanji utters these words like they’re a simple statement of fact, as opposed to one of the most terrible declarations Zoro can imagine. “He thinks I’m a failure and a disgrace to the Vinsmoke name because I wasn’t born like my brothers, and he’s spent my entire life making me pay for it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sanji falls silent, chewing absently on his bottom lip while he thinks. Eventually, he must come to a decision, however, because he lets out a world weary sigh. “You’re aware that Germa’s military might is mostly due to its scientific breakthroughs, yes?”

Zoro nods. He’s made a point of looking into the country since Sanji’s been in their midst, and truth be told, he hasn’t much liked what he’s found. “I have something of an idea.”

“How unfortunate for you,” Sanji quips, the joke falling flat as much due to his own tone as anything else. “Most people assume that science relates only to weapons, technology, that sort of thing. They don’t know how far Judge is willing to go to perfect his army.”

“Meaning?”

“His subjects are equally fair game.” Sanji explains. “Not just the soldiers, but even his own children. His experiments were supposed to turn us into emotionless killing machines, the very peak of physical fitness, so we could help him conquer whatever lands he chose.”

He glances down at his hands at this, staring at where they’re curled in his lap. “It worked in four cases out of five.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you thought I knew about the cuffs,” Zoro notes.

“Doesn’t it?” Sanji replies with a dry laugh. He lifts his head back up again, his blue eyes impossibly sad when he does so. “Judge would never willingly hand me over to someone he thought might treat me well. The cuffs were to keep me from running.”

“You don’t understand how his mind works,” he continues on, while Zoro stares at him, rendered mute with horror. “And your reputation precedes you, Your Grace. Judge fully believes that the Demon of the East is who you are both inside and out because he never stopped to consider the possibility of anything else.”

Standing abruptly, he begins to pace about the room, much like Zoro had been doing barely an hour previously. “All I heard on the trip here were stories of your bloodlust, your viciousness. My brothers embraced the game wholeheartedly and frequently speculated on whether you’d use me as a punching bag the way they were so fond of doing. And that was frankly the most pleasant of the images they liked to conjure.”

“I wouldn’t - ” Zoro blurts, his tongue feeling too thick for his mouth as it dawns on him what the prince is hinting at. “I would never.”

“I know.” Sanji’s quick to reassure him. “I promise, I do. I didn’t at the time, however, and by the point where we’d arrived in Shimotsuki, I had thoroughly resigned myself to the fate of trading in one hellish prison for another.”

He turns then, crossing the room without warning and coming to a stop mere inches in front of Zoro. “I was prepared for you to be cruel,” he says softly, lifting one hand and cupping it around Zoro’s cheek, “but now I find myself unprepared for your gentleness.”

Zoro wheezes. Sanji’s hand feels like a brand against his skin, while his words seem to reach into his chest, clawing through muscle and sinew, and leaving him flayed open with no way of recovering from the blow.

“I would never treat you that way,” he says because at this point those words are all he has. “And - you’re not a prisoner here. If this isn’t where you want to be, you can go at any time. Marriage vows be damned.”

Sanji stares up at him with glassy eyes. “What a perplexing creature you are, Your Grace. But no, while I appreciate the offer, I have no desire to leave.” A smile crawls across his face then, genuine, for all that it’s small. “Truth be told, I think here in Shimotsuki is the happiest I’ve ever been. And besides, I have no intention of giving you back your kitchen.”

Snorting raggedly, Zoro curls a hand over the one still curved around his face, and brings it to his lips. “The kitchen’s yours, Your Highness,” he says, planting a kiss in the centre of Sanji’s palm.

“As is anything else I can give you.”

*****
Something shifts after that, not just in their relationship, but throughout all of Shimotsuki as well. Word of the incident with the cuffs spreads despite the best of intentions, and suddenly the foreign Germa prince has been welcomed into the fold, whereas before he’d been eyed with wary suspicion.

Usopp had already come around on Sanji long before he’d found himself freeing the man from his gilded prison, whereas Nami had been another matter. Yet she melts almost overnight, the standoffish routine she’d been following fading away to be replaced by pleasant smiles and warm greetings.

After the two advisors, the rest of Shimotsuki follows suit. The guards nod amicably when he passes, the palace staff engage him in conversation when they spot him in their midst, and those townspeople who attend the grounds on business engage him as much as they do Zoro when it comes to matters of state.

“I mean, it’s all well and good, and I suppose I shouldn’t complain, but I can’t help but feel like they’re doing it out of pity.”

“They’re not,” Zoro mutters from where he’s sitting slumped over a table with his head pillowed on his arms.

“Yes, I know,” Sanji says waspishly, digging his hands more forcefully into the dough he’s in the middle of kneading. “But that doesn’t help how I feel. It took being revealed as some kind of - of victim for everyone to stop looking at me as an outsider.”

Zoro groans, not wanting to have this debate yet again. “They’re not pitying you,” he says tiredly. “They’re just relived to know that you’re not some kind of Germa plot who’ll murder us all in our beds when the time is right.”

“Wonderful,” Sanji gripes. “That’s so much better.”

“I think it is,” Zoro replies with an aborted shrug. “What are you making, anyway?”

“Dinner rolls,” Sanji says, thankfully allowing himself to be distracted for the time being. “The staff had a problem with one of the ovens earlier, and didn’t have enough time to finish them, so I’m helping out.”

And the man thought the people’s growing fondness for him might stem from pity? Shaking his head at the prince’s oblivious nature, Zoro leans back in his seat, stretching languidly to work out some of the kinks brought about by a lengthy training session.

“You should make those lemon bars you did the other day,” he suggests, feeling something pop in the vicinity of his left shoulder. “They were good.”

“We’re all out of the filling,” Sanji says absently, “but I’ll try to remember that for later. I also want to check the vegetable gardens at some point, and see what’s ready to be picked.”

Since that doesn’t exactly sound like a thrilling endeavour to Zoro, he shrugs again. “If you like.”

Sanji gives him an assessing once over. “You seem somewhat bored, Your Majesty,” he says dryly.

“Maybe a little bit,” Zoro admits, resuming his earlier slouch once again. “Nobody ever told me being a king would be so dull at times.”

“Ah yes,” Sanji drawls. “What a terrible thing to be ruling over a land of peace and prosperity. I don’t know how you manage it.”

“You know full well it’s because the witch does most of the work,” Zoro grunts. “She mainly keeps me around in case some enemy needs to be fought.”

Sanji snickers at this, but doesn’t deny that it’s an accurate glimpse into the real power behind the throne. “How lucky for you that she prefers to work in the shadows.”

“Trust me,” Zoro mutters. “I’m far more wary of Nami killing me in my sleep than I am you.”

“How flattering.”

Zoro snorts, having little interest in countering the man’s sarcasm. Instead, he lets out a tired groan. “Is there anything you would like to do that I could assist with?”

Sanji freezes. “Are you … offering to help in the kitchen?”

“Only if you would like to see your rolls burnt to a crisp,” Zoro says dryly. “No, I meant - actually I don’t know what I meant. Like you said, I’m bored.”

“Ah,” Sanji says. Looking suddenly uncertain, he uses the back of his arm to brush a few strands of hair out of his eyes. “Are you asking me to entertain you?”

Caught eyeing the spot on his wrist where the mark from the cuff has blessedly faded, Zoro blinks. “We should go out.”

“Out?” Sanji echoes. “Out where?”

“I - ” Zoro flounders, having no idea what to say next since he hadn’t really meant to say anything at all. “I don’t know,” he says finally. “Is there anywhere you’d like to go?”

“Well, I mean, I’m well acquainted with the palace and its grounds at this point,” Sanji muses, “and obviously I’ve visited the village a few times. Although, I guess I could stand to see more of the surrounding area. I’ve heard the forests are lovely.”

As far as Zoro’s concerned, the forests are nothing but a bunch of trees, but he supposes they have some nice views. Also, there’s plenty of game to hunt, which he’s always enjoyed. “We could go for a ride,” he suggests. “Maybe make a day out of it.”

“Oh,” Sanji says, and Zoro can see him warming to the idea. “I could make us a picnic lunch.”

Zoro blinks. That hadn’t been exactly what he’d been envisioning, but he finds himself not in opposition as Sanji starts speculating on potential menus. Watching the man expand on a subject he’s passionate about is quickly becoming one of Zoro’s favourite pastimes, and he’s not about to try and derail that now.

It appears they’ll be going on a picnic.

*****
Of course, having not one but both halves of a country’s royal couple depart the sanctuary of their home for even a day is the kind of production that necessitates the mobilization of what feels like half the palace. Zoro’s repeated assurances that he’s more than capable of fending off any trouble they might run into fall on deaf ears, especially once Nami discovers she has a new trump card to play.

“For the hundredth time, if you go out for a ride and get your fool head lopped off, or take a wrong turn and fall into a gorge, or any number of other possible alternatives, Shimotsuki will be in serious danger. We’ll be ripe for the picking of every jumped up warlord who’s ever held a weapon, and it will be entirely your fault.”

Zoro gives her a flat stare. “How will it be my fault if I’m dead?” He wants to know.

The redhead glares at him, her nostrils flaring in irritation, and he suspects she’s giving serious consideration to trying to stab him with one of his own swords, when all of a sudden her expression smooths out, and she smiles. “Prince Sanji, there you are! Do you have a moment?”

Having just stepped into the room that technically serves as Zoro’s office, Sanji gives her a bright smile. “Of course, mellorine,” he trills, following the declaration up with an over exaggerated bow. “What can I do for you on this fine morning?”

“You can help me explain to your idiot husband why a nation’s ruler simply cannot spend an entire day traipsing around in the woods without a retinue,” she says grimly. “I’m afraid I’m not having any luck getting my reasoning through his thick skull.”

“Ah,” Sanji says, his expression sobering. “I’m sorry he’s being difficult, Your Ladyship.”

“I thought I told you to stop calling her that,” Zoro grumbles. “She’s not a member of the peerage.”

Both Sanji and Nami give him pitying looks, and he finds himself abruptly interested in examining the rug in the centre of the room. He rather thinks it might be new.

“Regardless,” Sanji says after a weighty pause that makes it clear he has no intention of not fawning over Nami as he feels is her due, “what’s the problem with bringing a small entourage with us? Nami’s entirely correct in saying that’s common practice.”

Nami doesn’t even bother trying to hide her triumphant noise. Even worse, the smug look she sends his way leaves Zoro grinding his teeth in irritation.

“We have no need of an entourage,” he says finally. “I’ve roamed these woods and others all my life, either alone or with only a few chosen companions most times. If I can wander about Kuraigana without coming to harm, I can certainly do it here. For starters, there are no rabid monkeys.”

“I’m adding that to my list of reasons why I’m never visiting that place,” Nami mutters. “However, getting back to the topic at hand, Zoro, I’m afraid I’m really going to have to insist in this instance. It’s not proper for you two to go travelling unattended.”

“And,” she adds before he can formulate a proper retort, “we’ve been getting some reports of bandit activity near our borders. Now, they seem to be minor incidents, and I suspect you could probably handle them on your own, but do you really want to risk the prince?”

Even Sanji looks a little disgruntled by this insinuation, but Zoro knows when he’s beat. He’d sooner cut off his own arm than put his husband in danger, and the man is very much looking forward to this planned picnic of his. The menu is practically all he’s talked about for days.

“Fine,” Zoro capitulates with a disgruntled huff. “But it is to be a small, very small entourage. And you’re not coming. I’ll not have you spoiling the afternoon because you’ve spotted an errant centipede, or something of that nature, and lost your mind.”

“Centipede?” Sanji echoes.

*****

They depart a few days later in the middle of a brilliantly clear morning that has Sanji waxing poetic as he mounts his horse. For his part, Zoro’s managed to whittle the entourage down to only a handful of guards - Johnny and Yosaku among them - and is feeling rather pleased himself.

The guards spread out with a few going in front of them and the rest remaining behind. The men and women are kind enough to give them enough space to talk privately without being overheard, and all in all Zoro supposes the arrangement could be worse.

For his part, Sanji hardly seems to notice the soldiers’ presence. He chatters happily along as they ride, rambling about every plant, bird, and animal they come across, clearly delighted with this little endeavour of theirs.

Zoro finds himself increasingly grateful for the distance the soldiers are keeping, as he has no doubt that the expression on his face is that of an utterly besotted fool. Much though it pains him to admit it, he’s found himself falling increasingly under the prince’s spell as of late, and he suspects his condition is only going to get worse, not better.

Luckily, Sanji doesn’t appear to have noticed, or if he has, he’s been kind enough not to say anything. Zoro’s not sure yet how he wants to handle this growing infatuation of his, but he’s positive it’s too soon to act upon it.

Still, there’s nothing to say he can’t dote on his own husband, or cater to his particular flights of fancy. He intends for this picnic to be only the first of many such instances, and so far it appears to be going rather well.

They ride throughout the morning, making their way through the woods with a relaxed ease, both of them seemingly content with how things are going. Eventually, however, Sanji makes noise about needing to find a good spot to stop and eat, so Zoro dispatches two of the guards to scout ahead for something that meets the prince’s expectations.

The guards aren’t gone long, returning in only a handful of minutes with a report of a clearing up ahead that sounds like it’ll fit the bill, and Sanji brightens at this. His pleased expression then gets even brighter when he finally lays eyes on the spot.

“This is perfect,” he declares upon their arrival, and even Zoro has to admit that the place is exceedingly picturesque. “Now where did the blankets wind up? We should start with those first.”

He makes as if he intends to set up the scene himself, and the guards practically fall all over themselves in their rush to beat him to the punch. Zoro watches their antics with a sort of bemused indifference, but opts to step in when Yosaku reaches for Sanji’s carefully packed picnic basket.

“Leave that for His Highness.” He says firmly, nodding in approval when the blond guard backs off with an easy shrug.

Yosaku looks decidedly less nonchalant a few minutes later, as do the rest of the guards, when Zoro informs them in no uncertain terms that he and the prince are to be left alone while they eat.

“There are separate meals for all of you,” he says, pitching his voice to be heard above their disgruntled noises. “It’s not as if I’m asking you to go hungry while we eat our fill.”

“It’s not the food we’re worried about,” Johnny mutters mutinously. “It’s Lady Nami’s reaction if she finds out we left you alone for a time.”

Once again wondering who the hell’s apparently given Nami a barony without his notice, Zoro gives the assembled guards a haughty glare. “The witch isn’t here,” he says firmly, “but I am.”

Rather irritatingly, none of them look particularly swayed by this argument, and Yosaku even has the audacity to glance pleadingly at Sanji. “Your Highness?” He implores.

Sanji does a very poor job of hiding a laugh behind a gloved hand. “I think in this instance we can perhaps compromise slightly. Why don’t all of you disperse in a ring formation, and that way we’ll have ample warning if some danger is heading our way?”

A brief discussion ensues, but this plan is ultimately deemed to be acceptable by the soldiers. They then eagerly collect the provisions that Sanji has specifically prepared for them, and tromp into the woods with their bounties in hand.

Zoro watches them go until they’re all out of sight, and then turns a narrow eyed gaze on husband. “Exactly how is it,” he asks conversationally, “that you seem to have bent my subjects so thoroughly to your will?”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Your Grace.” Sanji replies, ducking his head and doing his best to hide his flushing cheeks behind the fall of his hair. “It’s you they want to protect, not me.”

“Mhm,” Zoro says dubiously. “On this point, I suspect we will have to agree to disagree. Now then, why don’t you show me what you have hidden in this basket of goodies of yours?”

Sanji’s entire countenance changes almost immediately, and he happily flips open the lid of the basket, removing various foodstuffs from within its depths with increasing speed. “I brought as many of your favorites as I could that wouldn’t go bad in the warm weather, but there are a few special treats in here for me too.”

“I should certainly hope so,” Zoro says, unhooking his swords from his belt and dropping down to sit next to him. “I didn’t come all the way out here only to have you watch me eat.”

“No, I know that,” Sanji’s quick to assure him. “And if I haven’t said it yet, thank you for humouring me in this request. If I’m being honest, it doesn’t really seem like the kind of outing you’d prefer.”

Accepting the plate of rice the prince hands him, Zoro shovels a forkful into his mouth, savouring the flavour as he considers how best to respond to that comment. “I enjoy the outdoors, good food, and good company,” he says finally. “And this trip involves all of those things.”

Sanji’s cheeks burn pink, and he suddenly becomes very interested in opening the bottle of imported sake he’d had Nami track down upon learning it was one of Zoro’s favourite brands. “There are glasses in here somewhere. Give me a moment and I’ll pour you some.”

“Are you planning on drinking any?” Zoro asks.

“No,” is the reply. “I’ve got wine for me.”

“Then give it here,” Zoro says, reaching for the bottle. When Sanji hands it over, he brings it to his mouth, and cracks the seal with his teeth. Spitting out the cork, he then takes a hearty swig.

“Zoro,” Sanji hisses in a scandalized tone. Unfortunately for him, his use of Zoro’s given name has the no doubt opposite intended effect, and leaves the swordsman feeling pleased rather than scolded.

“That’s me,” he chuckles. “Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind and want some now?”

“Absolutely not,” Sanji declares, pulling a second bottle free - this one the wine he’d just mentioned. “And I won’t be imitating you either.”

Zoro shrugs and takes another drink.

The food is as delicious as ever, with Sanji having outdone himself in the spread he’s prepared. They eat and drink their fill, all while chatting amicably. The atmosphere is delightfully relaxed, and Zoro finds himself not wanting it to end as the last of the food gets depleted.

“This was a good idea,” he says as he watches Sanji pack up the basket. Wanting to be of use, he makes to pick up the blankets they’ve been resting on, shaking them out and then folding them into haphazard squares. “We should do it again sometime.”

“I agree,” Sanji says, flashing him a winsome smile. “Although, perhaps not too often, as I’m afraid Nami might suffer a stroke due to the stress we’ve created.”

“For the umpteenth time,” Zoro begins. “That woman does not have nearly as much say in running my life as - !”

He never gets to finish this sentence because an arrow comes shooting out of the brush, thudding into a nearby by tree. Without stopping to think about what he’s doing, Zoro tackles Sanji into the ground, doing his best to shield him with his body.

“Stay down!” He barks when the prince starts squirming. A half a dozen more arrows go whizzing past their heads, and he glances around frantically for his swords.

Spying them on the opposite side of the clearing where he’d left them while they were cleaning up, he waits for a break in the action, and then rolls to his feet. Wishing he’d thought to wear something more sturdy than his padded leather jerkin, he sprints across the ground, snapping up his blades, fully intent on taking down whatever enemy is approaching.

He spares a brief thought for his guardsman, hoping that whichever ones the so far unseen enemy had gotten past are still alive, but then a handful of men who look like they’ve been sleeping rough come charging into view, and he has much more important things to worry about.

“Stay behind me and find what shelter you can,” he calls over his shoulder, imploring any deities who might be listening that no harm will come to Sanji. “Don’t make yourself a target!”

“Oh, you mean like you are?!” The prince snaps. Even as the first of the men reach Zoro, he manages to keep his calm, sounding frankly more exasperated than anything else. “You ridiculous man, if you get yourself killed I will be extremely cross with you.”

“Well, I can’t have that, now can I?” Zoro quips, easily dispatching the first attacker. “Relax. This will only take a moment.”

“I am relaxed!” Sanji snaps, but whatever else he might add gets lost in the cacophony of charging men and sweeping weapons.

It doesn’t take Zoro long to realize that their attackers are nowhere near his level, but their sheer numbers are giving him trouble. His need to protect Sanji keeps him more contained than he normally is in a fight, and it’s a struggle not to become overwhelmed.

Even worse, more men are now pouring out of the woods, none of them his own. Already constrained by the people he’s fighting off, he notes in horror as three of the newcomers slip by, on his blind side no less, and run towards Sanji.

He hears a vicious crack behind him, followed by a strangled yell, and hacks down his current opponent with little finesse so he can turn to the prince. It takes him a moment to spot him, but when he does he quickly dashes over.

“Are you alright?” He demands. Sanji’s been largely backed against an old tree that dominates this side of the clearing, and Zoro stares, horrified, when he notices a splash of bright red blood adorning the other man’s shirt.

He reacts without thinking, sheathing one of his swords and hauling the other man to him, curling a protective hand around his waist. “Which one of them dared to touch you?” He spits, craning his neck around to look for the enemy.

He’s surprised then when a pair of gentle hands hook themselves around his jaw, tilting his head back until he meets the gaze of a pair of brilliantly blue eyes. “The one with the freshly broken nose,” Sanji replies with a sharp grin.

Startled, Zoro risks another glance at the men, realizing belatedly that one of the three who’d slipped past him is on the ground, cradling his face while blood gushes between his fingers. His companions flank him on either side, both of them looking nonplussed.

“It’s not mine,” Sanji explains when Zoro turns back to him. “The stupid bastard bled all over the place when I kicked him.”

Zoro requires a moment to try and find his words. “You can fight?” He demands, his voice strangled.

Thanks to the way they’re still pressed together, he feels it practically everywhere when Sanji laughs. “Darling,” he purrs, “I may have been Judge’s very definition of useless, but I did still grow up in one of the most vicious countries in existence. Of course I can fight.”

Zoro gapes at him before remembering where they are when the remaining attackers start preparing for another charge. “We’re talking about this later,” he declares, finally untangling himself from the other man. “But until then - back to back?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Sanji quips. Tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear, he turns until they’re standing as Zoro had suggested. “After you, Your Grace.”

“You’re too kind, You’re Highness.”

Fighting side by side with Sanji is, in a word, thrilling. The other man’s style is completely different from Zoro’s as he uses neither fists nor swords, but instead rains down a series of precision kicks that send men sprawling left and right. He cracks bones beneath his heels as easily as Zoro slices through flesh, and the pair of them share matching grins as their enemies begin to falter.

“I do believe they’re getting tired,” Sanji croons. “What a lacklustre performance this is turning out to be. I’m quite certain I could take them all with one leg tied behind my back.”

Three of the men who’ve managed to remain on their feet collectively take offence to this comment. Rushing towards Sanji as one, the prince watches them approaching almost lazily until they reach where he wants them and he tips forward onto his hands.

Moving with the grace of a dancer, or perhaps a contortionist, the prince balances on his fingertips for a moment, and then launches into an arcing spin kick that reduces all three men to unconscious lumps.

Thoroughly caught by the show Sanji’s putting on, Zoro mistimes a thrust with Shusui and pays for it when his own attacker gets within his guard, slashing furiously with the blade in his hand. He feels a searing sensation near his clavicle when the blade punches through his jerkin, and bats the man away with an irritated huff.

“Jackass,” he spits, noting with no small amount of exasperation that blood has begun to seep from his wound. “Have you any idea what kind of an earful the witch is going to give me when I return with filthy, torn up clothing?”

“That’s nothing compared to what I’m going to say to you,” another voice screeches. Having finished off the last of their opponents, Sanji comes tearing across the clearing, raising his hands to paw at Zoro’s wound.

“Don’t,” Zoro says, trying to fend him off. “You’ll get blood all over you.”

“I already have blood all over me,” Sanji retorts, gesturing at his once pristine riding boots. “I’m more concerned with keeping your blood on the inside where it belongs. I’m almost certain this will need stitches.”

“It most assuredly will not,” Zoro snaps, offended by the very idea. “Come away, would you? We have to ensure there are no more bandits about, and also find out what’s happened to my men.”

Luckily, the answer to that second point is ‘nothing especially serious’. It turns out the bandits who Zoro and Sanji had taken out were a splinter section from a much larger group who’d engaged with the Shimotsuki soldiers as a distraction away from the King and Consort. The second group had been summarily dealt with with only minor injuries among Zoro’s people.

“Your Majesties have our sincerest apologies,” Yosaku starts, trying in vain to duck away from where Johnny is knotting an impromptu bandage around his head. “There’s no excuse for the way we let them slip past us.”

“Oh pfft. It was hardly as if you were sitting around napping.” Sanji dismisses the apology with a wave of his hand. “And we ordered you away, so if anyone’s to blame, it’s us. Let’s just make sure everyone who needs them has appropriately applied field dressings, and then we’ll head back to the castle.”

“And that includes you, Mossball.” He adds, giving Zoro a pointed look. “Also, I don’t care what your opinion is on the matter, you will be visiting the medical wing as soon as we get home.”

“It’s barely even bleeding anymore!” Zoro protests. “I hardly require the services of the court physician.”

Sanji crosses his arms over his chest and gives him a look that dares him to continue arguing. “If you don’t do it,” he says flatly, “I will sic Nami on you.”

Zoro makes a grumbling noise and resolves to be as irritating as possible for the entire trip back.

*****
Despite Zoro’s admittedly infantile behaviour, Sanji remains unmoved when they finally arrive at their destination a little after dusk. To make matters worse, both Nami and Usopp are waiting for them when they pass through the castle gates, and turn out to be of a similar mindset where his wounds are concerned.

“What in the world happened?” Usopp demands, looking aghast as he eyes not only the state of their entourage, but the captured, surviving bandits as well.

“Exactly what it looks like,” Zoro mutters. Much to his chagrin, his injury is starting to ache, and judging by the furtive glances he keeps shooting him, Sanji’s noticed. “We were attacked by these imbeciles, though it’s been largely dealt with.”

“Largely dealt with, my ass.” Sanji grumbles, shooting Nami an apologetic look. “I’m sorry for my tone, My Lady, but I’m afraid his Majesty and some of the men are wounded. Do you happen to know if the court physician is still awake?”

“Chopper? More than likely,” Nami replies. “But even if he’s not, if you can actually get His Royal Pigheadedness through the door of the infirmary, I’ve no doubt he’ll come running. If nothing else, but for the novelty alone.”

“I don’t need a doctor.” Zoro insists, a statement he’s made so many times at this point that the words have started to lose their meaning. “The wound isn’t even bleeding anymore.”

“Correction, the wound isn’t bleeding currently,” Sanji notes. “Don’t think I’ve missed the way it keeps starting again every time you move too much.”

“Whatever,” Zoro grunts. “The men who are injured should see the doctor before me.”

“None of them look overly damaged,” Usopp observes brightly. “And as it happens, Lady Kaya attended at the palace for supper tonight. I’m sure she’d be happy to see to the soldiers while Chopper deals with you.”

“Meanwhile, Usopp and I will see to finding suitable accommodations for the new friends you’ve brought back with you.” Nami adds, giving the assembled bandits a disdainful look. “I take it, these are all of them that are left?”

“Yes,” Zoro says, not bothering to elaborate any further. “They made a grievous mistake where they thought they stood against His Highness and I.”

“And I am sure I will hate every part of the story you’ll no doubt be telling me later,” she replies. “For now I’ll just let the two of you go see Chopper, shall I?”

Flicking his gaze back and forth between her and Sanji, Zoro sighs when he sees no wavering in either of their expressions. “Fine.” He says irritably. “If I must.”

“Oh, you must,” Sanji informs him. Reaching out, he hooks one hand around Zoro’s elbow and begins towing him into the depths of the castle. “Come along, Your Grace. Let’s go see to it that you have no more holes in your body than you’re supposed to.”

Once again showcasing an impressive grasp of the inner workings of the castle, Sanji navigates them easily throughout the twisting hallways, not once having to double back the way Zoro so often has to. Indeed, they reach the infirmary in near record time, and the prince knocks sharply on the door when they arrive.

“It’s open!” A voice calls, and the door swings inward, seemingly of its own accord.

“How curious,” Sanji murmurs.

“Hardly,” Zoro replies as he stomps into the room, wanting to get this over with. He glances around, and when he doesn’t immediately see anybody, scratches absently at the hinge of his jaw. “Oi, Chopper! Where are you hiding?”

There’s a crash from behind a desk that’s piled high with books and parchments, and as Zoro watches, a slender form bedecked with curly hair and a large pink hat emerges above the pile. “Your Majesty!” It yelps, brown eyes going wide when they spot him. “What are you doing here?”

“I am wondering that myself,” Zoro grumbles, now shifting to prod at the sticky spot on his torn jerkin. “My apologies for bothering you with a frivolous matter at such a late hour.”

“It is not a frivolous matter,” Sanji snaps from behind him. “You’ve been stabbed.”

“Stabbed?!” Chopper squeaks. “Oh no, somebody call a doctor!”

Zoro very pointedly does not turn around to look at Sanji. He’s all too aware of the fact that this is the prince’s first time meeting the court physician, and he has no doubt the man is growing increasingly concerned.

He resists a sudden urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “You are my doctor, Chopper,” he says patiently. “I’ve told you a hundred times that I won’t accept anybody else.”

“That doesn’t make me happy!” Chopper declares, despite his pleased wriggling to the contrary. “And you barely accept me most days. I think this is the first time you’ve ever walked into my domain under your own power.”

Zoro shrugs, not denying this. “I see no point in bothering you with wounds I can take care of on my own.”

Chopper sniffs. “You and I have very different definitions of what constitutes ‘taking care of’, Your Grace. Splashing some alcohol on a wound and then drinking the rest of the bottle is not the same thing.”

Sanji makes a beleaguered noise from his spot near Zoro’s shoulder, and Chopper glances at him as he comes around the corner of his desk. “Hello,” he chirps. “You must be the prince everyone’s talking about. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“You as well,” Sanji murmurs, and Zoro suspects most people wouldn’t notice the slightly strangled note in his voice. “ … Doctor Chopper, I believe it was?”

“Yes,” Chopper nods. “I’ve worked here for two years now.”

“I see,” Sanji blinks. “If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?”

“Chopper’s seventeen,” Zoro says, always making it a point to remember the boy’s birthday. “But don’t let his age fool you. He’s the best doctor in this kingdom, if not all of them.”

His words send Chopper into another wriggling frenzy, and this time he pulls his hat down low, trying to shield his burning face with the brim. “I still have a lot to learn,” he mumbles.

“I see,” Sanji repeats.

Apparently taking this as his cue to start working, Chopper lifts his head and gestures Zoro towards a nearby seat. “Your Majesty, I can see the location of the wound from here, so if you’d please sit down and remove your shirt, I’ll begin my examination.”

“Fine,” Zoro huffs, reaching up to start undressing. “But I’m serious when I say it’s just a minor flesh wound.”

“You’ll have to forgive me for saying so, Your Grace,” Chopper says tiredly. “But your version of a ‘minor flesh wound’ tends to be quite different from everybody else’s.”

His jerkin safely removed, Zoro drapes it over a handy rack, and sits as directed. He then leans back to give Chopper better access, fighting down an odd urge to grin when the little doctor peers at his wound irritably. “It’s fine, isn’t it?”

Chopper snorts. “It needs stitches,” he says flatly, his statement causing Sanji to flash Zoro a triumphant grin from behind him. “And a thorough cleaning before that. I’ve told you a thousand times about the dangers of infection.”

“Tch!” Zoro says.

“Indeed,” Chopper replies. “If you’ll wait here a moment, I’ll go fetch the supplies I’ll need.”

“Yes, yes,” Zoro says, waving him off with a distracted hand. He watches until the doctor vanishes into one of the infirmary’s back rooms and then looks at Sanji, who smirks. “Feeling proud of yourself, are you?”

“It’s a rare person who dislikes being right,” Sanji says simply, shrugging. “Though, I suppose in this instance being wrong would have been fine too, as it’d have meant you weren’t as injured as you appeared.”

“This a damn scratch,” Zoro says indignantly, prodding at the wound. As if on cue, it promptly brings to bleed again. “Gods above.”

“Would you leave it alone?” Sanji demands, his voice rife with exasperation. “I swear, you’re like a dog with a bone. Do I need to offer up some form of distraction until the doctor comes back?”

Zoro chokes. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing in particular,” Sanji replies, seemingly oblivious to Zoro’s burgeoning dilemma. “I just don’t want you bleeding out because you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”

Zoro considers this. “I wouldn’t mind hearing more about that stunt you pulled back in the forest.” He decides. “Where did you learn to do that?”

Sanji’s expression turns pinched. “I already told you. In Germa.”

“That wasn’t a Germa fighting style.” Zoro says, speaking with the confidence of a man who may have ignored most of his studies growing up, but not the ones involving battle techniques.

“And yet, since I lived my whole life prior to coming to Shimotsuki in that frigid hellhole, that must have been where I learned it,” Sanji retorts. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Zoro sighs. “If you don’t want to tell me, you can simply say so,” he mutters. “I’m not going to try and force it out of you.”

His face softening, Sanji surprises him by stepping forward and cupping a hand over his cheek. “And I thank you for that,” he murmurs, his tone genuine even though there’s a sadness lurking in his eyes. “Perhaps one day I’ll feel ready to talk about it.”

“In your own time,” Zoro says, his good eye fluttering shut.

He thinks he hears Sanji open his mouth to say something further, but they’re interrupted by the sound of Chopper returning. Springing apart, they both glance at the doctor guiltily, only for him to entirely fail to notice their positions.

“I brought medicinal alcohol to clean it,” he says happily. “As well as an antiseptic to help prevent infection. Although I’ll wait to place that on it until I’ve stitched it up.”

“Thank you, doctor.” Sanji says, giving the boy a warm smile. “Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to assist.”

“You can sit on him if he tries to leave before I’m done,” Chopper says primly. “Usually the only way I can get him to stay as long as I need him to so I can complete his treatment is if he’s unconscious.”

Sanji’s smile morphs into a decidedly unimpressed scowl, and Zoro resigns himself to an evening spent getting lectured about how to properly take care of himself.

*****

After being released from Chopper’s clutches, Zoro’s sent to his rooms to recuperate, and is given strict orders to avoid strenuous activity for at least a week while his flesh heals shut. His protests that he can’t spend that much time without training fall on deaf ears, and Sanji takes to checking in on him at strange hours to make sure he’s not doing anything he shouldn’t.

“Good morning, Your Grace,” he says two days later when he walks into Zoro’s rooms unannounced. “I do hope you’re not in here trying to lift anything you shouldn’t.”

Zoro gives him a look from where he’s busy lacing up one of his boots. “What does it look like?” He asks dryly, tugging at the tie perhaps more forcefully than necessary. “I promise, I am behaving like a good little king who apparently has no say in bowing to his subjects’ demands.”

“I’m not your subject, I’m your husband,” Sanji replies breezily. “And not only am I too young to be a widow, but having to spend a year in mourning clothes would do absolutely nothing for my complexion.”

“Asshole,” Zoro mutters, finishing with the first boot and switching to the other.

“Quite,” Sanji agrees, unperturbed. “Would you like to join me for breakfast, or would you rather sulk and stare longingly at the training grounds some more?”

“Breakfast is fine,” Zoro says. Climbing to his feet, he hooks his swords on his belt - refusing to be without them even if actually using them will get him yelled at - and nods in the direction of the door. “After you.”

Grinning - something he’s been doing more and more as of late - Sanji nods and departs ahead of him.

The kitchen is in its usual state of buzzing chaos when they arrive, if not slightly more so. Dodging a harried looking cook who darts past him with a tray of biscuits held aloft, Zoro looks around until he finds Nami seated at her usual table.

“Morning, witch.” He says as he moves to sit down across from her. “What are you up to today?”

“Plenty,” she replies, holding up a hand to stop his descent. “But you’ll have to wait to hear about it. We had a guest arrive late last night. They’re waiting for you in the private dining hall.”

“A guest?” Zoro repeats. “If we have a guest who’s so important that I’m expected to grant them an audience first thing in the morning, why wasn’t I informed when they got here?”

“You had already turned in for the night.” She says, her eyes sparkling with impish delight. “And I know how much the prince worries when you don’t get a proper rest.”

Zoro groans, once again annoyed by this bizarre friendship Nami and Sanji appear to have stuck up. “Very well,” he says. “Will you likewise be joining us?”

“Unfortunately, as much as I would very much like to be a fly on the wall for this meal, I’m scheduled to meet with some representatives from the trade guilds this morning.” She sighs and takes a dainty sip from a teacup. “You wouldn’t believe some of the prices these people think they can get away with charging us.”

“Just don’t make anyone cry again.” Zoro says, nodding to Sanji and indicating he should follow him. “Come along, let’s go see who’s waiting for us.”

“I wonder why Nami wouldn’t at least tell you,” Sanji says, his brow furrowing. “You don’t think it’s anything bad, do you?”

“Judging by the way she was being so secretive, I expect it’s something I will not enjoy, but in a way that Nami is bound to find extremely funny.” Zoro shrugs. “She’d never do anything to intentionally harm me or Shimotsuki, so I find it’s usually best to let her have her fun.”

“If you say so,” Sanji says dubiously.

“Trust me,” Zoro says as they walk down the short hallway to the private dining room and draw up to its currently closed door. “I have more than enough experience to know - oh hell. What are you doing here?”

Tapping one foot idly against the floor, Perona finishes the bite of biscuit she’s chewing and gives him a disdainful look. “Is that any way to greet your big sister?”

“In your case? Absolutely.” Zoro informs her. “In fact, I’ll even reiterate it for you. What are you doing here, Rona?”

Her eyes narrowing, Perona shifts her gaze to beside him. “Isn’t it obvious?” She asks icily. “I’ve come to meet my new brother-in-law.”

*****
Breakfast is … tense. Perona’s clearly not happy about being in Shimotsuki, and judging by the dirty looks she keeps shooting everybody, she’s opted to share the misery around. She glares balefully at her plate, eyeing it like it’s done something to personally offend her.

“ … So.” Sanji says, gathering his courage about halfway through the meal. “How long will you be staying with us, Your Highness?”

Perona barely bothers looking up from her food. “For as long as I need to.”

Sanji looks at her, nonplussed. Zoro watches him in turn, and holds up his hand to stop the blond when he visibly moves to try and engage her in conversation a second time.

“You won’t get anything out of her when she’s like this,” he says flatly. “Let her eat and wake up some more first, and then perhaps she’ll be ready to speak to you like a civilized human being.”

“Oh that is rich coming from you,” Perona snaps, scraping her fork across her plate. “You are as approachable as a starving bear on your best days.”

“Better that than whatever display you’re putting on here,” Zoro retorts. “You show up with no warning, wait almost an entire day to announce your presence, and give everyone nothing but attitude when you do. You’ll forgive me for saying so, but I hope you’re not planning to stay long if this is how you’re going to be the entire time.”

“Why you miserable little wretch!” Perona barks, slapping her hand against the table top. “If I’d known this was the kind of reception I’d get, maybe I never would have come at all.”

“Well then, if you’d kindly tell us what the hell you’re here for, perhaps we can see about getting you on your way,” Zoro snarls back with equal ferocity.

“I think I should give you two some space to talk,” Sanji says then. Shoving his chair back, he’s on his feet before Zoro can even try to make a grab for him, scooping up his food and backing towards the door. “Your Grace, I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

“You don’t have to - ” Zoro starts, but he’s talking to empty air. Sanji’s through the door and gone, leaving the siblings alone with no one but each other for company. “Well that’s nice,” Zoro says, whirling on his sister. “And you tell me I don’t have any manners.”

“It’s not your manners I’m worried about at the moment,” she retorts. “In this instance it’s your complete lack of common sense.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He demands.

She gives him a pitying look. “What do you think?” She asks in turn. “Imagine your family’s surprise when a messenger arrived in Kuraigana several weeks ago with the news that you’d allied yourself with Germa. And married one of their princes, no less!”

“Mihawk is incensed by the way,” she adds ominously. “He does not approve of having a Vinsmoke for a relative.”

“Oh?” Zoro asks snidely. “What did he do? Briefly crack a facial expression?”

“This isn’t funny, Zoro.” She says seriously. “What in the world possessed you to ally with those monsters?”

“I didn’t ally with them,” Zoro snaps. “I allowed them safe passage through Shimotsuki in exchange for their choosing the most direct route through the country and leaving my people entirely unscathed, nothing more. You can check the agreement yourself if you’re so worried about it. I’ll have Nami bring it to you.”

Perona frowns, clearly taken aback. “Vinsmoke Judge gave you one of his sons for that? That’s a paltry sum, barely worth the ink and parchment it took to draw it up.”

Zoro shrugs. “I expect he thinks a marriage between the two of us will get him some sort of allegiance with Mihawk as well, but it won’t, so it’s a moot point.”

“And why is that?” Perona asks, her dark ringed eyes narrowing.

“Because it didn’t even get him any allegiance with me,” Zoro replies coolly. “In fact, although he’s not aware of it yet, it made us enemies.”

Now Perona’s expression morphs into one of pure confusion. “What in the world are you talking about?” She asks, all of the hostility leaching from her voice to be replaced with bafflement. “You can’t be enemies with your own father-in-law, Zoro.”

Zoro snorts. “I can be enemies with anyone,” he says loftily. “Especially that monster. And he’ll get Sanji back over my dead body.”

His sister eyes him askance. “Was he very cruel?” She asks, obviously able to read at least somewhat between the lines.

“Extremely,” Zoro says darkly. “As far as I’m concerned, he should be put down like the animal he is. Him and the rest of his brood.”

“But not your Sanji?” She asks skeptically.

“The cook isn’t like him,” Zoro insists. “The two of them couldn’t be more different. Judge is a monster, but Sanji - Sanji is incredible.”

“Oh sweet merciful gods,” Perona says, her eyes going wide. “You're in love with him.”

“Yes,” Zoro says, seeing no point in hiding it. It’s something he’s already come to terms with in recent weeks. “So you can tell Mihawk he doesn’t have to worry. I haven’t allied him with the Vinsmoke or anything of that nature.”

Groaning, Perona makes a show of burying her face in her hands. “Only you could make falling in love sound like some sort of incidental event,” she mutters. “Dare I ask if you’ve said anything to him yet?”

“Of course not,” Zoro replies, which just makes her groan harder. “Why would I?”

“Perhaps,” she sighs, “and I’m just reaching here, so that you might be able to ascertain whether or not he loves you too?”

“Tch, it’s fine,” Zoro says, shrugging. “I don’t need him to love me back so long as he’s happy here.”

Perona stares at him. “Who are you, and what have you done with my idiot baby brother?” She demands. “This isn’t like you at all.”

“Isn’t it?” Zoro asks, shrugging again. “I’m not so sure about that. I’ve never been in love before, you know.”

“Trust me, I am aware,” she replies dryly. Then she claps her hands together, looking alarmingly excited when compared to her previous dire mood. “Alright, I’m not here for very long, so we’ve got to move quickly in the time we have.”

“To do what, exactly?” Zoro asks, immediately on edge.

“Why to ascertain if your little princeling loves you too, of course!” She trills. “I don’t want to go home until I’ve figured out that much.”

“You know,” Zoro says tiredly. “I was rather afraid you were going to say that.”

*****
Perona’s mood improves significantly once she realizes that Zoro hasn’t inadvertently tied them all to a vicious warmonger for life. Unfortunately, now that she’s decided Sanji isn’t the centre of a mistake of epic proportions, she’s decided to find the whole situation funny instead.

“I do apologize for my ghastly behaviour earlier, Your Highness,” she coos, fluttering her eyelashes from where she’s hooked her arm through one of Sanji’s and is now gazing up at him with a look of saccharine sweetness. “Please forgive me. I’m never at my best after weeks on the road.”

Even though he’s clearly somewhat taken aback by this abrupt shift in her behaviour, Sanji does an impressive job of maintaining his composure. “Perish the thought, My Lady,” he says, accepting her arm with barely a blink. “There’s nothing to forgive.”

“How refreshing to have someone so polite to keep me company,” she replies. “Zoro, should perhaps follow your example.”

“No.” Zoro grunts from where he’s walking on her other side because she’s insisting on being the centre of attention. “At least not where you’re concerned,” he amends, when Sanji gives him a scandalized look.

“Brute,” she says, attempting to thwack him with the unopened parasol she’s holding in her free hand. “I know you were given the same etiquette lessons I was.”

“I had better things to do with my time than listen to that shit,” Zoro scoffs. “What do I need etiquette for?”

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response,” Perona mutters, while next to her, Sanji bites back a groan.

Zoro shrugs, unbothered, and brushes aside a swath of hanging vines that he’s just gotten too close to as he walks. Perona’s now insisting that she and Sanji get to know each other better, and has suggested a trip through the palace gardens. Concerned about what she might say if left alone with his husband, Zoro’s taken the sensible option and tagged along.

“So,” Perona says now, smiling up at Sanji. “How are you finding Shimotsuki, Your Highness? Is it very different from Germa?”

Zoro shoots her a glare she ignores as a result of this second question, but if Sanji’s bothered by it, he doesn’t let anything show on his face. Instead, he keeps right on walking, his countenance never changing.

“Shimotsuki is lovely,” he says, his rich voice full of a warmth that does ridiculous things to Zoro’s insides. “But yes, very different from Germa.”

“How so?” Perona expertly dodges Zoro’s subtle attempt to step on her dress, and jabs him in the thigh with her stupid parasol in retribution. “The climate?”

“For starters,” Sanji agrees. “I’m sure you’re aware that Germa is entirely naval, yes?” When Perona nods, he continues on. “I’ve never spent so much time on land in one go in my life. Also, the weather is considerably more mild. The north is absolutely frigid in temperature, although I’m told the east has a penchant for impressive storms.”

“Along the coastline, certainly.” Perona says. “If you haven’t already, I’m sure you’ll see some in Shimotsuki. And if you can ever drag Zoro back to Kuraigana, they’re even more common there.”

“I suspect I’ll have had enough of you for at least a year by the end of this visit.” Zoro drawls, and Perona’s affronted look is well worth her next wallop with the parasol.

“Oh, do please be careful of his chest, Your Highness.” Sanji pipes up, looking for the first time mildly alarmed by Perona’s repeated assaults. “I’m afraid he’s still healing.”

Perona freezes, the parasol still raised threateningly, and gives Zoro a considering look. “What did you do to yourself this time?” She asks, mainly sounding annoyed, but Zoro thinks he might hear the faintest bit of concern lurking below the surface.

“We went riding a few days before your arrival and were attacked by brigands,” Sanji explains when Zoro merely shrugs. “They were summarily dispatched between the two of us, but not before one of them got in a lucky stab.”

“It was nothing,” Zoro says tiredly, not missing the way Perona’s lips press together tightly. “Only a handful of stitches, and that was more because the cook wouldn’t stop wringing his hands than anything else. Chopper says it likely won’t even scar.”

“Good,” Perona sniffs. “You have more than enough of those already. Why must you always do this? Stop charging headfirst into every fight you come across, will you? You’re a married man now, you oaf. And a king! You have a spouse and subjects who need you.”

Zoro sighs, but doesn’t allow himself to be dragged further into the argument. “I’m aware,” he acknowledges. “Not only His Highness, but also Nami has expanded upon the subject at length.”

“I knew there was a reason I always liked that woman,” Perona replies. “And I’m happy to see that you appear to be following doctor’s orders for once, although I’m sure you’ve already snuck into the training grounds with no one being the wiser.”

“Oh no, My Lady, he has not,” Sanji says firmly. “Mind you, he’s tried a number of times, and he keeps bellyaching about it, but he’s not getting back in that practice ring until the doctor tells him he’s allowed.”

“Goodness,” Perona says faintly. “Not even Mihawk’s ever managed to stop him long term. How ever did you manage it?”

“By asking?” Sanji says, looking confused when she smirks.

“More like ordering,” Zoro grumbles.

“Well, good for you,” Perona says after a moment, smiling up at Sanji. “I tried my best to keep him out of trouble when he was little, usually unsuccessfully I’m afraid, so it’s nice to hear someone else is looking out for him.”

“I’m reasonably certain it was in the wedding vows.” Sanji says dryly, making Perona snort.

“Seeing as I wasn’t invited, I wouldn’t know.” Shaking her parasol under Zoro’s nose, she looks as if she’s pondering where next to strike him with it. “Imagine leaving your favourite sibling out of your marriage ceremony.”

“You’re my only sibling,” Zoro points out.

“Which makes me your favorite by default,” she sniffs. “I heard Sanji’s siblings got to attend,” she adds, sounding put out.

“Only because they were in the vicinity,” Sanji says quickly. “I’m afraid it was all a very rushed affair. We’d have loved for you to have been there if there was time.”

“We would?” Zoro asks, and this time he probably deserves the crack over the head. “Ow!”

“That did not hurt,” Perona scoffs. “You have a skull as thick as a rock.”

“You are not making a very good case for yourself,” Zoro grumbles, rubbing his head. “When did you say you were leaving again?”

Perona sucks in a deep breath, clearly gearing up for a fight, only to fall silent when Sanji laughs quietly.

“You two are close, aren’t you?” He says when they both turn to look at him. “That’s another thing that’s different here than in Germa, you know. The people are much more open with their affections.”

“Are you not as close with your siblings?” Perona asks, completely missing the horrified look Zoro gives her. “You have a number of them, don’t you?”

“Four,” Sanji confirms. “And no. I’m afraid we’re not very close at all.”

“Ah,” Perona says, finally appearing to notice that she’s strayed into dangerous territory. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Sanji gives her a brittle smile, but does his best to play it off. “It’s fine, likely a cultural difference to some extent, I’m sure. Encouraging affection is not a common pastime in Germa. There are very clear divides between the different aspects of society. I certainly wouldn’t have been permitted to mingle with the kitchen staff, or associate with the local blacksmith there.”

Perona wrinkles her nose. “I hope you’ll forgive me for saying so, but I think I prefer our less reserved nature.”

“As do I, Your Highness,” Sanji says, his smile losing its strained edges. “Without a doubt.”

*****
“Oooh, I don’t know how I’m supposed to settle for the food in Kuraigana again after this.” Making a frankly obscene noise, Perona takes another bite out of one of the tiny cakes Sanji had made for her, her face the very picture of delight. “Are you sure you don’t want to divorce Zoro and marry me instead? I’m the heir to a vastly superior kingdom.”

“No, thank you, my dear.” Sanji demures, while Zoro smirks obnoxiously at Perona around the hunk of bread he’s chewing on. He gets a smack to the shoulder for his troubles, tragically at the hand of his own husband. “Don’t be rude, Mossy.”

“She started it,” Zoro argues, but all this earns him is a tsking sound from the prince. “I am being persecuted in my own home.”

“Oh yes, your suffering knows no bounds,” Perona says sarcastically. “Here you sit in a kingdom you rule with very little effort, a place full of subjects who - for whatever misguided reason - adore you, and would never accept anybody else. You have your lovely, doting husband, constant access to the most delicious food I have ever tasted, and the opportunity to take up whatever pastimes you please. Truly, your agony must be without measure.”

“Well you’re here, aren’t you?” Zoro shoots back. “My life can’t possibly be as perfect as you claim so long as that’s the case.”

This time the smack Sanji gives him is decidedly sharper. “Stop picking on your lovely sister, or I will give you a sound thrashing the second the last of my cakes have finished rising.”

“You can’t,” Zoro grumbles. “That would get us both in trouble with Chopper. Which is another thing,” he adds petulantly. “It’s been almost a week and I’m still not allowed to spar or even do most of my basic training routines. I’m going to lose my edge.”

“It has been five days,” Sanji says tiredly, “since you were stabbed. Chopper said the wound was thin but very deep and unsettlingly close to some of your more important organs. I don’t care if you don’t agree with his diagnosis, you are not the one with the medical training.”

“But I’ve been stabbed before,” Zoro says, which earns him pitying looks from both his companions.

Perona gives Sanji a look. “Are you sure you’re not interested in that divorce?”

“Oddly enough, no.” Sanji replies. “I’ve become inexplicably fond of him in recent months, even if he does make me want to tear my own hair out on the regular.”

“He did that to me for our entire childhoods,” Perona says with a somber nod. “I’ll be sure to correspond with you regularly once I return to Kuraigana so that you have someone to commiserate with. Also, you can always go complain to Nami whenever he’s being particularly irksome.”

“I am sitting right here,” Zoro says, offended.

“We know, darling, you’re very hard to miss.” Sanji says, giving him an absent pat. “But if you’ll give me a moment, I think the latest batch is ready to be removed from the oven.”

Zoro watches him as he bustles off, his arm still tingling from where the other man had touched it. “He’s going to be the death of me.”

“So I’ve noticed.” Perona replies. “I’ve seen you blush more in the past two days than I have in the previous twenty years. I don’t know how the man hasn’t realized that you’re completely enamoured with him. Honestly, I can’t wait to tell Mihawk all about it.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” Zoro mutters.

They bicker back and forth for a little longer, no real heat in the words, until Sanji returns, looking pleased with himself.

“The last batch turned out well, I take it?” Zoro asks.

His husband shrugs. “It’s too soon to be a hundred percent certain. They need to cool so that I can try them. They look good, though, which is always a positive sign.”

Zoro can’t help but grin at the other man’s pleased expression. “I’m sure they’re fine.”

“And by fine he means delicious,” Perona says, starting in on another of the cakes she has piled on her plate. “Honestly, little brother, these delicacies are wasted on you.”

“And yet they and the cook will stay here with me, while you return to Kuraigana alone,” Zoro says smugly.

“Tch,” Perona grimaces, and turns to Sanji. “Your Highness, you must promise me that the second he’s well enough to step back in the practice ring, that you’ll give him the kind of thumping he deserves. I doubt I’ll be here that long, but he assures me you’re a very capable fighter yourself.”

“Did he now?” Sanji says, sounding pleased. “I’m flattered.”

“I wasn’t saying it to flatter you,” Zoro says, feeling an embarrassed flush crawling up the back of his neck. “I was only speaking the truth.”

“Still, as it happens, I’m rather keen myself to see how our fighting styles match up against each other,” Sanji admits. “I’ve heard many stories about the ‘Demon of the East’, but I never expected to have the chance to spar with him.”

“To say nothing of winding up married to him, I’m sure.” Perona adds dryly.

“Very true,” Sanji admits, grinning. “But yes, Your Highness, I promise I’ll do my best to put him in the dirt on your behalf.”

“Excellent,” Perona says brightly, while for his part, Zoro suddenly finds himself lost in a vision of Sanji wrapping those terribly dangerous legs of his around him during a match. “You’ll have to let me know how it goes.”

“Hnngh,” says Zoro.

*****
A couple more weeks pass by, and then finally Perona announces she needs to be moving on again. Sanji tries to convince her that such a short trip is hardly worth the amount of time it had taken her to reach Shimotsuki, but she brushes him off with a casual wave.

“Truth be told, I wasn’t expecting to stay this long,” she says from where she’s comfortably ensconced in an armchair near the fire. The three of them plus Nami and Usopp are relaxing in one of the palace sitting rooms, having a lazy evening on the eve of Perona’s departure.

“Still,” Sanji frowns. “It seems like such a waste, especially given how far away Kuraigana is.”

“Oh, I’ll be going much slower on the way back,” Perona assures him. “There are a number of people I want to stop and say hello to.”

“Not to mention a number of markets you’d like to visit,” Zoro notes. “Perona loves to shop,” he adds for Sanji’s benefit. “If she hadn’t been born wealthy, she’d had to have found a way to obtain it quickly, what with how expensive her tastes are.”

“Just because I don’t wear my clothes until they become rags falling off my body does not mean I have expensive tastes,” Perona says primly. “I mean, I do,” she adds with a sparkle on her eye, “but the two are unrelated.”

“Well, we’ll miss you,” Sanji says then, toasting her with the mostly empty wine glass he’s been nursing all night. “It’s been lovely having you.”

Perona glances at Zoro, as if expecting him to offer up some counterpoint, and her face softens when all he does is shrug. “Thank you,” she says. “Despite my esteemed brother’s best efforts, it’s been a delightful visit.”

“This,” Zoro says pointedly, “is why I never say nice things about you.”

“I’m sure,” she says with a smirk. “Sanji, I’m afraid you’ve got your work cut out for you with this one. Mihawk couldn’t turn him into a respectable member of society, and nor could his accidentally becoming a king. If neither of those things managed it, you’re going to have to have something significant up your sleeve to pull it off.”

“I’ll be sure to let you know what it is if I come across it.” Sanji says with an answering grin, and then he yawns. “Unfortunately, my dear, I think I’m going to have to turn in very shortly.”

“So soon?” Perona asks, her face the picture of dismay. “But it’s my last night here.”

“And he was in the kitchen before the crack of dawn, baking you all manner of fresh treats for the journey back,” Zoro says firmly. “Perhaps you should thank him, as opposed to complaining.”

“No thanks are necessary,” Sanji insists, trying to cover up another yawn with his hand. “I was happy to do it, and it’s hardly as if you even asked me too.”

“Still, much though it pains me to admit, my beastly little brother does have a point,” Perona sighs. “No wonder you’re so tired, Your Highness.”

“Again, it was no trouble,” Sanji says. “But - hmm -,” he pauses to let a third yawn escape, “I’m afraid it’s quickly getting to the point where I can’t keep my eyes open. If I’m going to be able to get up early enough to see you off tomorrow, I should probably get some sleep.”

The conversation pauses for a moment, but for the act of Sanji bidding everyone good night. Afterwards, the door closes behind the exhausted prince, leaving the rest of them to their own devices.

Naturally, Perona breaks the ensuing silence. “I’ve decided I like him,” she announces to the room at large. “In fact, Zoro, I think he might be too good for you.”

“Don’t worry, that much even Zoro was bright enough to figure out,” Nami snickers. “I can’t get over how lucky His Most Esteemed Majesty has gotten in this instance.”

Now Perona snorts. “He could get luckier still if he’d stop being such a chickenshit,” she says, glancing at Zoro. “After several days of examination, my keen eye has revealed that that man is as stupid over you as you are over him.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Usopp pipes up before Zoro has a chance to respond. “Zoro is very stupid over him, after all.”

“What is this, some sort of conspiracy against me?” Zoro demands, glaring at each of them in turn. “Mind your business, the lot of you.”

Nami rolls her eyes. “Given the sheer amount of work I do in keeping both you and Shimotsuki running, anything that’s messing with that big, green head of yours is my business.”

“Nothing is messing with my head,” Zoro disagrees. “It’s the same as it always was,” he continues on, which does not appear to appease anyone in the slightest.

“You’re being very silly,” Perona says finally. “Just tell your little princeling that you want to spend the rest of your life tromping around after him, and be done with it. You’re already married, so it’s not like he can be totally opposed to the idea.”

“Yes he can because he had absolutely no say in that,” Zoro reminds her. “I was at least asked. He was simply told what was going to happen to him. It’s not the same thing.”

“Urgh.” Wrinkling her nose, Perona slumps back in her chair with a huff. “You know I hate it when you act sensible,” she grumbles. “However, my point stands. I’ve been watching you both the entire time I’ve been here, and that man is interested.”

“Then he can say something if and when he’s ready,” Zoro replies. “I’m not going to force him into something he doesn’t want. He’s had enough of that in his life already.”

“Of all times for you to take a cautious and level headed approach to something.” Perona sighs, propping her chin in the palm of her hand. “I suppose it’s a good thing under the circumstances, but it’s also incredibly boring.”

“I’m so sorry I’ve failed to accommodate you,” Zoro drawls. “As if you don’t already have plenty of gossip to run back to Mihawk with already.”

“Of course I do,” Perona sniffs, rolling her eyes. “But this would be the top of the pile. It would also, for the record, go a long way towards appeasing our dear father with regard to the overall situation you’ve created here.”

Zoro shrugs. “At his age, a little intrigue and irritation is probably good for him. It’ll keep him on his toes.”

Much to his surprise, Perona laughs. “There is that aspect of it. Truth be told, listening to him vent will likely be pretty funny. You’re going to have to come see him yourself eventually though, you know that right? You and Sanji.”

Zoro waves a dismissive hand in Nami’s direction. “I can’t go anywhere anytime soon, but once that changes, I’m sure the witch is fully capable of planning out an entire trip for us.”

“I am, but it’ll cost you,” Nami says. “I don’t work for free.”

“Of that I am well aware,” Zoro snorts, saluting her with his tankard.

*****
The next day dawns grey and dreary, with a chill in the air that almost makes Zoro regret not dressing more warmly when he goes to see Perona off. For her part, his sister is wrapped in a fur lined cloak that covers almost her entire body, and she’s already made it clear that she intends to ride inside her carriage for the time being.

Surrounded by the troops in Kuraigana livery who’ve been accompanying Perona since the start of her journey, the carriage rests just outside the stables. Its horses are latched in and ready to go, one of them stamping an anxious hoof against the ground while its intended passenger makes her farewells.

Most of the palace staff, Nami and Usopp among them, have already begged off to give the siblings as much privacy as possible. Sanji, however, is present at Perona’s request, looking slightly uncomfortable as she throws her arms around Zoro’s neck.

“Don’t make me go too long without seeing your stupid face again.” She mumbles when he caves and wraps her up in a bear hug that lifts her off her feet. “I meant it when I said you have to get yourself out to Kuraigana. Preferably before Mihawk and I both keel over from old age.”

“Soon.” He promises, accepting the obnoxious kiss she smacks onto his cheek with minimal grace. “When the time is right.”

“You’d better,” she warns. Then she releases him and turns to Sanji.

For his part, the blond gives her a small smile and bows low. “Your Highness,” he says. “It’s been wonderful getting to know you these past few weeks. I’ll do my best to make sure His Grace gets out to visit you, I promise.”

“Pfft, none of that,” Perona says when it looks like he’s about to bow a second time. Flinging her arms about his neck, she drags him into an embrace that’s only slightly less intense than the one she’d given Zoro. “We’re family now, silly.”

Sanji’s entire face turns a vivid shade of red, and he pays her back awkwardly. “That’s very kind of you to say,” he mumbles, which only seems to make Perona squeeze him tighter.

“You’re going to break him, Rona.” Zoro grunts irritably. “Let him go.”

“Yes, yes, you can have him back.” Making a big show of releasing him, Perona gives Sanji one last pat, and winks. “Remember, you promised to write and tell me all about it when you destroy Zoro at sparring. I’m counting on you, Your Highness.”

Rallying impressively, Sanji gives her a quick nod. “I won’t let you down, Princess. Safe travels, and,” he adds with a funny little smile on his face, “don’t catch cold.”

“She’ll be fine,” Zoro says as they watch Perona accept a hand into the carriage, the door then falling shut behind her. “The weather’s still mild this time of year, and she’s bundled up appropriately.”

“Oh no, it was just … something my father used to say,” Sanji trails off. Most of his attention is focused on where the carriage is now trundling through the main gates, but Zoro finds himself completely distracted.

“What?” Sanji asks, looking self conscious when he notices Zoro staring at him.

“Judge used to worry about you getting sick?” Zoro asks, so dubiously that Sanji laughs at him.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he says, still snickering. “Of course he didn’t.”

“But,” Zoro says, growing more confused. “You just said - ”

“I haven’t called Vinsmoke Judge my father since I was eight years old,” Sanji cuts him off. “And truth be told I should have stopped before that because he certainly never treated me like his son.”

Zoro checks to make sure that Perona’s carriage is entirely out of view, feeling like it’s only fair to give whatever this conversation is his full attention. “If you weren’t talking about Judge,” he says slowly. “Who were you talking about?”

Sanji chews absently at the corner of his bottom lip, all while tugging at his hair - something Zoro’s noticed he does when he’s feeling anxious. Deciding it’d be best to wait the other man out in this instance, he rests back on his heels until the blond comes to a decision.

“Would you like to go for a walk?” Sanji asks abruptly. “Perhaps in the gardens.”

Although half tempted to point out that they’ve recently strolled through the gardens multiple times with Perona, Zoro nods instead. “If you like,” he says. “But are you sure you’re warm enough?”

“I’m fine,” Sanji confirms, adjusting his own cloak around him.

“Very well then.” Zoro says, and, because it feels like the situation calls for it, offers the other man his arm. “Shall we?”

Flashing him a small smile, Sanji curls both his arms around Zoro’s, leaning against him as they head towards the nearest entrance to the gardens. “How gallant,” he jokes.

He falls silent after that, however, seemingly lost in his own thoughts, and Zoro makes no move to press him. Eventually, after they’ve passed the better part of fifteen minutes without a word being spoken between them, Sanji sighs.

“Do you recall,” he asks quietly, “asking me who taught me how to cook? And who taught me how to fight for that matter?”

“I do.”

“They’re the same person,” he says next. “Or possibly were the same person, I suppose. I have no idea if they’re still alive.”

“Judge?” Zoro guesses.

“Who else,” Sanji replies. “I’ve told you before how he never wanted me to be happy.”

“This is not a nice story,” he adds softly, as if Zoro couldn’t possibly have figured that out on his own.

In answer, Zoro lifts their joined arms and presses a kiss to the back of one of Sanji hands. “Then you don’t have to tell it,” he says. “Not if you don’t want to.”

“I think I do, though,” Sanji says. “Want to, I mean.”

“Then go ahead.”

Sanji bumps their shoulders together almost idly. “I’m planning on it, I’m just not sure where to begin.”

“How about this?” He says after a moment. “Once upon a time, there was a grumpy, one legged chef who treated a desperately lonely little boy as his own … ”

*****
Later that night, Zoro barges into Nami’s study after hours. The redhead looks up at his entrance, her lower lip curling in a snarl, only to pause when she gets a good look at his face.

“There’s something I need you to do.”

*****
“Has that dummy done something to displease you?”

Startled out of the trance he’s been in while going through his training exercises, Zoro swipes his forearm over his brow to wipe away the sweat that’s beading there, and then turns to look at the source of the voice he’s just heard.

Sanji grins at him as their eyes meet, and he rests his own arms on top of the fence that surrounds this particular sparring ring. “The poor thing’s not going to have an ounce of straw left by the time you're done with it.”

Zoro risks a glance over his shoulder at the sad excuse for what used to be a training dummy, and shrugs. “I tend to go through them fairly quickly,” he admits. “Even the ones that Franky specially reinforces for me. Also, before you ask, Chopper cleared me to be down here.”

“I know,” the other man replies, his grin broadening. “I checked with him after Johnny and Yosaku came running into the kitchen to tattle on you.”

“Those bastards,” Zoro grumbles, his face morphing into a scowl. “I hope they realize they’ve just volunteered to be my next sparring partners.”

“Oh?” Sanji asks, his voice with faux surprise. “What a pity, I rather thought that was going to be me.”

It dawns on Zoro suddenly that his husband is more dressed down than usual. Instead of his typical finery, or even the practical, yet still elegant, outfits he tends to prefer in the kitchens, today he’s in worn breeches and a shirt that looks like it’s seen better days. Even his hair is tied back and knotted at the base of his neck.

Against his will, Zoro feels a faint thrill of excitement start swirling in his gut as he steps closer to the fence. “You want to?” He asks, nodding at the centre of the ring, even though there’s no real need of it.

“Yes,” Sanji replies simply. “I wouldn’t have come all the way out here if I didn’t.”

“Good.” Zoro says, unable to stop himself from grinning wolfishly. “There’s a gate a little ways down there for you to let yourself in.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Sanji says. Bracing his hands on the top railing, he leans back, balancing on his toes as he judges the distance, and then vaults effortlessly over the fence. “How’s that?”

Not for the first time, Zoro is struck by the casual grace with which the other man moves. He watches as Sanji saunters towards the centre of the ring, bypassing the three dummies that Zoro’s recently torn to shreds with an admonishing shake of his head.

“So wasteful,” he chides. “And all this time you could have been fighting with someone who’d actually give you a challenge.”

“I only know a few people who could do that.” Zoro replies, his mind drifting to first Mihawk and then Luffy. Idly, he wonders what his rambunctious friend is up to these days, and when he’ll see him again.

Oblivious to where Zoro’s thoughts have headed, Sanji makes a point of glancing around the ring, clearly gauging the territory and how he might be able to use it to his advantage in their match. “You’ll use all three swords, won’t you?”

Zoro momentarily balks at that, the idea of cutting the other man, even accidentally, not sitting well with him. On the other hand, the look Sanji gives him makes it clear that no different alternative will be tolerated, so he nods. “If you insist.”

“I do, Marimo.” Sanji says with a sharp grin. “I very much do.”

Zoro rolls his good eye as he prepares to draw Wado and Kitetsu from their sheathes, Shusui already held in his hand. “One of these days, Cook, you’re going to run out of names you can use to make fun of my hair.”

“And one of these days you’ll learn that I don’t consider being called a cook an insult,” Sanji retorts. “Get those pigstickers of yours ready, Mossball. I’ve been waiting to try this for weeks now.”

Saluting him with Kitetsu, Zoro acknowledges his point. Then, the next thing he knows, Sanji’s completely closed the distance between the two of them, having moved faster than almost any other opponent he’s ever faced.

“It’s not wise to let yourself be distracted,” he teases, right before he lands a kick to Zoro’s left shin that’s not unlike that of being socked by a mule. “That was just a warning to take this seriously,” he adds, dancing back out of reach.

Ignoring his throbbing leg, Zoro raises the two blades in his hands, and squares up into a proper fighting stance. “I’m taking it seriously,” he mutters around Wado’s hilt. “Just you wait, Curls.”

“Curls?” Sanji snaps, his distinctive eyebrows narrowing in affront. “I’m going to make you regret that one.”

Zoro grins around the sword in his mouth, the sight one that had once made an opponent wet himself in fear. Then, having always been a fan of the direct approach, he charges.

He doesn’t hold back, confident that Sanji can either dodge or withstand the blow, and in this he turns out to be right. The prince raises one leg as easily as most would lift a finger, catching Shusui with his heel. They strain against each other for a moment, before they each pull back to assess these opening moves.

“You’re good,” Zoro feels no shame in admitting.

“So are you,” Sanji answers in kind. Then he smirks. “But I’m better.”

Zoro scoffs, refusing to humour such a ridiculous statement. Then they’re exchanging blows again, the two of them having opted to attack at the same time. They shift across the ring, each of them taking as much as the other gives out, with neither of them emerging as the stronger opposition.

His whole body feeling like it’s on fire, alight with the thrill of being so evenly matched, Zoro risks a glance at Sanji, and sees the same scenario all over the other man’s face. He laughs breathlessly, as he charges in for another attack.

Sanji surprises this time, in that instead of meeting him head on like he has in every other instance, here he dodges. Even worse, the move catches Zoro off guard, causing him to overextend and leaving him vulnerable to an attack from the side.

Without hesitating, Sanji slams a knee into his gut, causing the breath to explode from his lungs and Wado to go spilling onto the ground. Zoro takes a brief moment to consider whether he wants to risk taking the time to retrieve the fallen sword, and then Sanji’s coming at him yet again.

His blue eyes sparkling, Sanji dances in close, but ducks downwards at the last moment. Rather than trying to rain a series of blows down on Zoro like he has been, this time he sweeps one of his sinfully long legs along the ground, taking Zoro’s feet out from under him when they connect.

Zoro gets the wind knocked out of him a second time when his back hits the ground. Even more damningly, though, he has no chance to recover. Sanji follows through on his attack, and rather than backing off, he opts to land heavily on Zoro’s sternum, wrapping his legs around his waist and trapping him in place.

Knowing that their bout has come to an end - at least for now - Zoro releases his holds on Shusui and Kitetsu, making a show of raising his arms to prove that his hands are empty. “So.” He chuckles, easily the least offended he’s ever been over losing a fight. “You’ve beaten a king in a duel. What prize will you claim?”

As he speaks, he shifts his hand to Sanji’s hair, which has come loose during their fight and is now flowing freely. The strands are exactly as soft as he’s always imagined they’d be, and he smiles as he tuck’s a stray curl behind the blond’s ear.

Sanji pales, as if realizing for the first time what a compromising position he’s put them in. “I - ” He stutters, his cheeks then turning red. “I want - ”

“Yes?” Zoro queries, tilting his head to the side. “You can have whatever you wish.”

At his words, Sanji’s expression shifts, turning resolute. Then he moves his hands, curving them upwards until they’re framing Zoro’s face. “I want you.” He says firmly, and closes the remaining distance between them.

Even though he’d so clearly telegraphed his intentions, Zoro’s still surprised when their lips meet. He makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat, but it quickly turns into a groan when Sanji deepens the kiss. His arms come up without his permission, wrapping around the other man’s torso and holding him tight.

Kissing Sanji is everything and nothing like what he’d imagined it’d be. It’s heat and pressure and passion all rolled into one. He feels simultaneously lightheaded and the most grounded he’s ever been. The only thing he does know is that he never wants it to end.

But end it must. Eventually the need for air forces them apart, and they lie there, the both of them panting raggedly as they stare at each other.

Zoro breaks first. “You kissed me,” he says breathlessly.

“You kissed me back,” Sanji reminds him.

“Yes,” Zoro agrees. “And I’m about to do it again.”

Gathering his momentum, he takes advantage of Sanji’s obvious confusion, and rolls them so that their positions are reversed. The prince lands in the dirt with a quiet ‘oof’, having little time to recover before Zoro captures his lips a second time.

Proving himself to be exactly as flexible as Zoro’s always suspected him to be, Sanji makes no move to try and break free of his hold, and instead wraps both his legs around Zoro’s back, crossing his ankles to keep either of them from going anywhere.

“How long?” Sanji pants in between kisses. “How long have you wanted to - ?”

“Since almost the beginning.” Zoro confesses, giving as good as he gets. “But I didn’t want you to feel like I was pressuring you into something.”

For some reason his words make Sanji moan, and his legs tighten to a point that’s almost painful. “You ridiculous man,” he gasps. “How in the world did I end up here with you?”

“I ask myself that every day,” Zoro replies. “But then I remind myself that the only thing I actually care about is the fact that you are.”

“Fucking hell,” Sanji groans. “You can’t just - no, never mind. Zoro,” he says then, hooking a hand around Zoro’s jaw and forcing him to look at him, as opposed to letting him continue the onslaught he’s currently waging against his neck. “If you don’t take me to your chambers this minute, I will not be held responsible for my actions.”

His piece said, the other man lies back, somehow still looking remarkably well put together for a man who’s reclined in the dirt. Meanwhile, Zoro’s reasonably certain most of his brain cells have now ceased functioning.

“You want to?” He asks, waggling a hand in a way that he hopes indicates what he’s trying to get across.

It must because Sanji proceeds to give him a pitying look and bucks his hips upwards in a way that leaves no room for doubt as to what he’s after. “Now, Mossball,” he growls.

And Zoro hasn’t always been especially good at following orders in his life, but that one he obeys with alacrity.

*****

Zoro wakes the next morning with his entire body aching pleasantly all over and an unexpected weight resting on his chest. Cracking his good eye open, he takes in the familiar surroundings of his bedroom, and then glances down to see what it is that has him pinned.

Sanji blinks guileless blue eyes back at him. “Did you know,” the prince asks quietly, “that you snore terribly?”

Taken aback, Zoro can’t find it in him to do anything but shrug. “It’s been mentioned once or twice,” he admits. “Was I bothering you?”

“Surprisingly no,” Sanji replies, pressing a kiss to Zoro’s shoulder. “I think it, more than anything else, helped convince me this was real when I woke up.”

“Feels real enough to me,” Zoro agrees. His right arm is trapped between Sanji’s body and the mattress, and he wriggles it until he can curl it around the other man’s back and hold him close. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mhm, yes,” Sanji says. “Your bed is much more comfortable than mine.”

Unintentionally, Zoro finds himself grinning up at the ceiling. “My apologies,” he says. “I certainly didn’t mean to stick you with subpar sleeping arrangements the whole time you’ve been here. How ever will I make it up to you?”

Sanji stretches languidly, preening like a cat that got the cream. He then proceeds to fold his arms atop Zoro’s chest, and pillow his chin on them. “Well, for starters, you can let me use your bed more often.”

Zoro pretends to think about this. “How does every night sound?” He wonders.

“That depends,” Sanji says, looking suddenly unsure of himself. “Will you also be in it?”

“Most definitely.” Zoro says, smiling when Sanji’s expression brightens.

“Hmm,” he says, drumming his fingers against Zoro’s skin. “It is a very nice bed, and I find myself feeling extremely comfortable this morning.”

“Good.” Zoro says, and leans in to kiss him.

Sanji hums appreciatively. “You’re very good at that.” He murmurs when Zoro pulls back, his cheeks tinted pink. “In fact, you’ve showcased a number of impressive skill sets in recent memory.”

“Such as?” Zoro asks, feigning innocence.

He gets a sharp nip at the hinge of his jaw for his troubles, far from the first such reprimand he’s suffered in the past twenty-four hours. The cook turns out to have a penchant for biting, although it pales in comparison to Zoro’s own.

“Scoundrel,” Sanji says, albeit fondly. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I couldn’t say,” Zoro decides after a moment’s consideration. “But if it’s anything like what you did last night, I’m at your disposal.”

“Marimo.” Full on blushing now, Sanji nips him a second time to indicate his irritation. “Behave.”

“No,” Zoro replies happily.

Sanji gives him a disgruntled look, but isn’t able to hold it for long. Barely a few seconds have passed before it’s being replaced by a dopey grin, no doubt mirroring the one on Zoro’s own face. “I very much enjoyed what we did yesterday … and arguably early this morning.”

Zoro laughs, the sharp sound echoing around the walls of the room. “You can say the words,” he teases. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Believe me, I’m not ashamed.” Sanji says, his grin turning wicked and one of his hands suddenly beginning to trail lower. “In fact, I’d very much like to do it again.”

Zoro groans appreciatively at this suggestion, but unfortunately other parts of his body have a different idea. Right when Sanji’s hand is gliding over his torso, his stomach lets out an alarming rumble to indicate that it too is feeling ignored.

Sanji freezes, causing Zoro to groan for an entirely different reason. “Don’t worry about it,” he pleads. “It can wait.”

“You’re hungry,” Sanji points out unnecessarily. “What am I saying, of course you’re hungry. We skipped supper last night.”

“And I genuinely could not regret it less if I tried.” Zoro assures him, but it’s no use. Sanji’s got that same pinched look he always gets on his face whenever someone mentions missed meals. Protest though he might, Zoro knows it’s not going to get him anywhere.

“You want to go eat, don’t you?” He asks, and Sanji has the grace to look sheepish about it, but he nods all the same. “Fine,” Zoro huffs, flopping an arm over his face to try and hide some of his smitten expression. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

“Thank you,” Sanji mutters, before clearing his throat awkwardly. “However, it’s occurring to me that we may have a slight problem.”

Concerned, Zoro moves his arm out of the way and peers up at his husband, finding him unwilling to meet his eye. “What’s wrong?”

Sanji hums indecisively. “I don’t have any clean clothes in here. Only the ones I came in with last night. Which,” he adds somewhat icily, “if I now correctly recall, you may have also done some irreparable damage to.”

Zoro shrugs, unrepentant. That shirt had been in his way, and he’s not sorry. “You can borrow something of mine.”

“And go down to breakfast swimming in fabric?” Sanji asks, rolling his eyes. “Plus, that’s assuming you even own more than one shirt, you barbarian. I see your chest more regularly than I do my own.”

Zoro scratches at said chest, which is currently adorned with only the chain that holds his wedding band. “Then what exactly do you propose we do, Curly? Tempting though the idea sounds, someone would notice if we tried to stay in here indefinitely.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Sanji asks, giving him a look that suggests it should be. “I need Your Most Royal Majesty to put on some pants and go fetch me my clothes.”

“Ah.” Zoro supposes he should have seen that coming. “But what if I happen to prefer you this way?”

“Then if I were you, I would stop and consider how fond you are of your dick because my knee is very close to it right now, and you got a first hand look yesterday at what I can do with it.” Smirking, Sanji gives him a look that dares him to try and push his luck. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal.” Zoro replies, and then immediately needs to kiss him some more.

“Oh, you have a problem.”

*****
Eventually they manage to get suitably washed and dressed - although at one point Zoro is dispatched back to Sanji’s soon to be former rooms in order to retrieve a shirt with a higher collar. Apparently, someone who shall remain nameless had seen fit to ‘maul the prince’s throat like an animal’ at some time during the night.

“And my hair is a disaster,” Sanji mutters, finger combing out the blond locks as they walk through the palace hallways. “Do you not actually own a brush, or even a comb perhaps?”

“I’m sure there’s one back there somewhere.” Zoro says, flapping a hand in the direction from which they’ve just come. “We can go look for it if you really want to.”

“No, thank you.” Sanji says grumpily. “Even if we could find it, I’d probably be appalled by the state it’s in. I hope you realize we’re moving my entire vanity into your chambers.”

“Our chambers,” Zoro corrects. “And you can bring anything you wish. If you have too many belongings we’ll simply get rid of some of mine.”

He stumbles as soon as these words have left his mouth, not because of anything on his end, but because Sanji screeches to a halt and Zoro’s too close on his heels to avoid bumping into him. “Cook?”

“You really mean that don’t you?” Sanji chokes out, his hands falling from his hair as he turns around. “You really do.”

“Of course,” Zoro says, wondering what the problem is. “I’ve been telling you since the beginning that I want you to be happy here.”

“I know - I just, oh fuck it.” Apparently overcome, Sanji hooks his hands around the back of Zoro’s neck and drags him down for a kiss. “You are far better than I’d ever dared hope you’d be,” he says raggedly when he pulls back. “And I’m still not sure what to do with that.”

“Whatever you like.” Zoro says, stroking a hand comfortingly along his arm until he can grab him by the wrist and press a kiss to the centre of his palm. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good.” Taking a moment to compose himself, Sanji moves to pull back, but can only get so far when Zoro loops their arms together. “What are you doing?”

“Is it a problem?” Zoro asks. “We are married, you know. No one’s going to be upset.”

Sanji gives him a wry grin. “Oh, I can think of at least one person who’s going to be extremely upset, and I wish I could be there to see the look on the big bastard’s face when he finds out about this. But you’re right overall. If you’re not bothered by people knowing, then neither am I.”

And of course Zoro isn’t bothered. Or at least he isn’t until they walk into the dining room and Nami gets a good look at them. As he watches, a cheshire cat grin spreads across the redhead’s face, and she elbows Usopp where he’s sitting next to her.

“Pay up,” she says smugly, holding out a hand.

The longnosed man glances at their linked arms and groans. “You couldn’t have waited a few more months?” He laments, reaching into his coin purse and pulling free a few gold bars. “I was hoping to use my winnings on an anniversary present for Kaya.”

“You bet on whether or not we’d get together?” Sanji demands, looking mortified.

“No.” Zoro sighs, not having missed what Usopp had been hinting at. “They bet on when.”

Nami sniffs, shuffling some papers out of the way as they both sit down across from her. “Consider yourselves lucky I restrained myself and only involved Usopp. I could have opened it up to the entire castle and made enough money to retire.”

“Mellorine,” Sanji warbles pitifully, hiding his face in Zoro’s shoulder.

“Oh yes,” she says dryly, “because that’s going to make the two of you less obvious. I love the outfit by the way, Your Highness. High necked collars really should come back in fashion.”

“Must you?” Zoro asks, while Sanji makes another disgruntled noise. “I was in a very good mood when I woke up this morning, and you are ruining it.”

“I’m sorry,” she replies. “It’s only that I’ve never had the privilege of seeing the newlywed stage start six months after a couple got married.”

“Namiii,” Sanji whines. “Pleassse.”

“Oh, alright,” she says, no doubt willing to take pity on them since it’s not Zoro who’s asking. “As it happens, I have actual work I need to discuss with His Majesty, so I suppose I could do that instead.”

Half his attention now focussed on signalling the kitchen staff to bring them some breakfast, Zoro waits a moment before turning back to her. “What is it?” He asks, only once he’s sure their food is on the way.

She holds up the papers she’d moved in answer. “We’re going to have guests arriving sometime within the next week.”

“What?” Zoro groans. “But we’ve only just gotten rid of Perona. Tell whoever it is I won’t be available.”

“It’s Hiyori.”

That stops Zoro in his tracks. “Hiyori?” He echoes. “Why the hell is Hiyori coming all the way out here?”

“Based on the correspondence, she’s actually going much farther,” Nami explains. “According to this, Momonosuke’s sending a delegation from Wano to travel along the coast as part of his attempts to open up his borders again. Hiyori’s heading it up, and Shimotsuki is one of her stops along the way.”

“Which makes sense, given its current and historical ties to Wano.” Usopp adds.

“Mhm,” Zoro grunts. “Fine. Don’t tell them I’m not available then, but I still resent their timing.”

“I’ll be sure to send Her Highness a strongly worded letter for interrupting your impromptu honeymoon, shall I?” Nami asks.

“Try it, and the next time I need an envoy to Alabasta, I’m sending Usopp,” Zoro retorts.

“Oh, please no,” Usopp whines. “The sand gets absolutely everywhere.”

“If I may,” Sanji cuts in with a hand on Zoro’s arm. “But am I to understand you’re all talking about Kozuki Hiyori, the Princess of Wano? You know her?”

As Zoro nods, Nami leans across the table. “Before he inherited Shimotsuki’s throne, Zoro was instrumental in helping the Kozuki clan reclaim their spot as Wano’s rightful ruling family. Hiyori is very fond of him.”

“We’re friends,” Zoro hisses, lest she accidentally cause unnecessary tension when he’s only just gotten his life where he wants it. “And some days even that is a stretch.”

“It’s fine,” Sanji’s quick to assure him with a pat on the arm. “I wasn’t worried about that. I just wasn’t aware you knew her, is all. Wano was isolated from the entire world for most of our lives.”

“And then Luffy and Zoro un-isolated it,” Usopp says dryly. “Along with help from several other parties.”

“I see,” Sanji says, turning to Zoro. “Darling, the longer I’m here, the more I realize you’ve led an absolutely bizarre life up until this point. What will you do next?”

“Well, for starters,” Zoro mumbles, not missing the way Sanji smirks at him. “I’m going to find someone to move your belongings into our room.”

*****
“This is completely unnecessary,” Zoro mutters irritably.

Unmoved, Sanji tweaks the collar of his tunic, and brushes an imaginary speck of dust off the shoulder of his fur lined cloak. “You can’t greet a visiting head of state in torn breeches and a ratty shirt, or no shirt for that matter,” he says primly. “There are rules about this sort of thing, Mossball.”

“Hiyori’s not coming here as a princess,” Zoro disagrees. “She’s coming because she’s on a very long journey and wants to stop in to see a familiar face. She will neither complain nor care if I welcome her in my everyday clothes.”

“Well I will care,” Sanji announces, “and I seem to recall you promising to humour my whims in our wedding vows.”

“I very much do not recall that,” Zoro replies, but he can feel his protest fading the moment Sanji starts pouting at him. “Someday that will no longer work on me, and then you will be in a great deal of trouble.”

“So you say,” Sanji retorts, flicking Zoro on the nose. “But until that happens, I intend to milk it for all it’s worth. Now, where did you hide your crown?”

They bicker over the necessity of the stupid circlet until Sanji finally unearths it from behind a stash of Zoro’s sword cleaning equipment, and crams it onto his head with frankly more force than necessary. The prince then makes dire predictions on what will befall his husband should said circlet disappear between now and the Wano delegation’s arrival - predictions that involve him being banned from his nice, warm bed for the foreseeable future, among other things.

“Tyrant.” Zoro grumbles, adjusting the circlet so that it’s not digging into his skin quite so fiercely. “It was my bed and mine alone up until a week ago.”

“Yes, but in that week I’ve become accustomed to a certain standard of living, and I’m not giving it up.” Sanji informs him. “So if you won’t behave, then it’s you who’ll be sleeping in the sitting room.”

Zoro huffs out a sigh that’s entirely for show, and lets Sanji finish with his fussing. “You owe me for this.”

“The kitchen is serving sea king meat as the main course for tonight’s supper, and I’ve already seen to it that we have your favorite brand of sake on hand.” Sanji says easily. “I believe we’ve even stocked extra.”

Lashing out with both hands, Zoro gets his hands on the other man’s hips, and drags him forward until they’re pressed flush together. “That wasn’t what I meant,” he murmurs with a wolfish grin.

“Brute,” Sanji says, whacking him on the chest. “Unhand me before you wrinkle my clothes.”

“We have time,” Zoro insists. “I can take care of you right here.”

“As tempting as that offer is,” Sanji replies dryly, “we in fact do not have time. I fully expect Nami to be here any minute because I suspect we may be late.”

“Let her,” Zoro says, running his tongue along his bottom lip. “Maybe giving her a damn eyeful will finally stop the damned witch from always barging in unannounced.”

“Unfortunately, all I suspect it will do is cause her to tax us for making her see that, and I can almost guarantee you that I will be so mortified I will never want to have sex again.” Sanji gives him a long look. “Is that what you want, Your Grace?”

“Fine,” Zoro grumbles, “but you could give me a kiss at least. How else do you expect me to suffer through the hours of mind numbing boredom that always come from royal banquets?”

“You’ve told me yourself that you and Lady Hiyori are friends,” Sanji reminds him with a roll of his eyes. “So we both know it won’t be that bad. However, I suppose I could grant you that much, but don’t you dare try to take it any further.”

Grinning, Zoro makes a show of holding his hands up to prove they’re not getting into trouble. If he drops them down to get a double fistful of Sanji’s ass when the prince kisses him, it’s only because he delights in making the other man squawk.

“Bastard,” Sanji mutters, biting sharply at Zoro’s bottom lip.

“Worth it,” Zoro replies.

“Ahem. Do you gentlemen mind?”

“No,” Zoro groans, refusing to look away from Sanji, who’s now blushing a furious red, the same way he has every other time they’ve been interrupted to date. “Would it kill you to knock?”

“Probably not,” Nami replies. “But it would see far fewer important tasks get finished when it comes to running this kingdom. Not to mention, it’d be considerably less fun.”

“I’m sure,” Zoro grunts. “I take it the delegation from Wano is here then?”

“They pulled up at the gates not five minutes ago, and are in the process of disembarking,” she confirms. “I understand you’ll be greeting them in the throne room, is that correct?”

“So I’m told,” Zoro says, glancing at Sanji, who nods.

“Thank god one of you was listening during the lessons on proper court etiquette,” Nami says fervently. “Shall we go then?”

In answer, Zoro allows Sanji to do one last quick inspection of his person, and then holds out his arm for the prince to take. “Let’s get this over with.”

*****
The throne is no more comfortable than it ever is, and Zoro shifts for what feels like the hundredth time as he tries to find a position that doesn’t make his entire back want to rebel against him. Their guests are taking their sweet time in arriving, and he finds himself getting more annoyed with each passing second.

“Stop squirming,” Sanji says from where he’s standing to the right of and slightly behind the throne. “People can see you.”

“People have literally seen me fall asleep in this thing,” Zoro mutters, snickering when Sanji groans. “My wriggling around a little is therefore hardly the worst thing I’ve ever done in it.”

“You are a disaster of a man.”

Zoro’s still considering a comeback to that one when the main doors finally open, and he straightens properly. Across the hall, he can see Usopp ushering in a crowd of people, easily spotting Hiyori’s distinctively coloured hair among them.

“I’d heard she was very beautiful,” Sanji remarks, low enough that no one else will overhear. “But the stories don’t do it justice.”

“She’s not even close to the most beautiful person in this room,” Zoro scoffs. “I mean - ” He starts, belatedly realizing what he’s just said. “Uh.”

“I’ll say this for you,” Sanji notes, still in that same thankfully low pitch. “Sometimes your bluntness works in your favour. Unless, of course, you’re referring to someone I don’t know.”

“Obviously not,” Zoro hisses, doing his best not to let his embarrassment show on his face, given that half his court is currently present. “Please kill me.”

“Unfortunately, I’ve grown rather fond of you,” Sanji replies. “So I’m afraid you’ll just have to soldier through the pain.”

“Jackass.”

One of the heralds is formally announcing the arrival of their guests before Sanji can reply, and Zoro does his best to focus on that, as opposed to the teasing glint in the other man’s eye. Along with Hiyori, he spots both Denjiro and Kawamatsu among the crowd, and nods, pleased to see that she’s travelling with some of her late father’s retainers.

“That’s good,” he says. “She’s brought some firepower on the road with her. Those two are - ”

“Zorojuro!”

Having been previously obscured by Hioryi’s robes, a tiny figure bursts free from behind her. Ignoring the droning herald, who’s now been caught mid-sentence, it evades the princess’s grasping hands and darts across the remaining space to launch itself at Zoro.

Having started to climb out of his seat at the figure’s approach, Zoro oofs quietly as it thuds into his solar plexus, and lets himself fall backwards onto the throne. “Hello Toko,” he laughs as the little girl jerks her head up and aims one of her infectious grins his way. “No one told me you were coming too.”

“It was a surprise!” She trills, her smile somehow getting impossibly bigger. “Are you happy to see me?”

“Of course,” Zoro says, patting her with a hand that nearly dwarfs her entire head. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Toko wriggles happily at his comment, while a pointed cough from nearby reminds him that an introduction is in order. Craning his neck around, he finds Sanji watching him with his visible eyebrow raised.

“Marimo?” He says, his eyebrow climbing higher still.

“Cook,” Zoro replies, just to see a faint look of exasperation cross the other man’s face. “This is Toko. Toko, this is my husband, Prince Sanji.”

“I heard you got married,” Toko crows, turning to look at Sanji as well. “Hello,” she chirps. “You must be a very nice person if Zorojuro agreed to marry you.”

Sanji laughs, looking flattered and embarrassed by turn. “Well, I don’t know about that,” he says, “but it’s nice to meet you regardless, Toko.”

“Toko!” Apparently having decided that her family hasn’t broken enough protocols for one day, Hiyori has given up on waiting for the little girl to return to her, and is now stomping up the steps of the dias with her robes hiked up so she doesn’t trip. “Toko, come here. I told you there were rules about how this had to be done.”

“Oh please,” Zoro says, waving an errant hand. “You know exactly how little I care about that kind of foolishness. Leave her be.”

Having reached the top of the platform, Hiyori drops her robes with an annoyed huff. She then proceeds to make a show of twitching them into place before planting her hands on her hips. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

“That’s not true,” he denies. “I got married.”

“So I heard,” she replies, letting out an impressive snort and glancing at Sanji. “I do hope he hasn’t bribed you into this.”

Not waiting to hear Sanji’s response, Zoro props an elbow on the arm of his seat and rests his chin in his hand. “That hurts, Your Highness,” he drawls. “Especially since you once proposed to me.”

“I was young and stupid,” she retorts, doing an impressive job of maintaining her composure while Sanji gapes at her. “Not to mention blinded by the service you’d just done both me and my people. I’m sure I would have come to regret it in time.”

“Naturally,” Zoro retorts, but after that he drops the irksome facade. “It’s good to see you, Princess. You look well.”

“As do you,” Hiyori admits. “Now, if you’ll return Toko to me, perhaps we can go about doing a proper introduction, hmm? After which, we can get started on supper.”

Zoro sighs. “And here I thought everything was going well.”

*****
Shimotsuki’s kitchen - most likely aided by its Prince Consort - outdoes itself. It’s not often Zoro’s small kingdom ends up in a situation that requires the preparation of a traditional banquet, but when it happens, his people go all out.

“This is delicious,” Hiyori exclaims, shovelling rice into her mouth with far less decorum than her upbringing would suggest. “And the soba from before,” she says, smiling wide. “Perfection.”

“You can thank this one for that,” Zoro says, nodding at where Sanji’s seated on his other side, the three of them plus Toko the only people currently present at the head table. “He made it especially for you when I mentioned you liked it.”

Hiyori makes a groaning noise as she swallows what’s in her mouth. “I was as surprised as the next person when I heard you’d gotten married, but in this case I can understand why. Did you know he could cook like this when you chose him?”

“He did not, My Lady,” Sanji confirms. “I’m afraid that was a detail I was keeping under wraps.”

“Then it was an extremely fortuitous chance for him,” Hiyori enthuses. “I’d eat like this every day of my life if I could. In particular after the famines Wano experienced while I was growing up.”

Sanji’s entire face softens as he looks at her. “Were they very bad? I’m afraid not much is known about your homeland where I come from.”

Hiyori brushes aside his apology with little concern. “Not much is known about Wano by anywhere, thanks to the decades we spent with our borders being closed to the rest of the world. Even Shimotsuki knows next to nothing about us, and it was founded by one of our escaped citizens.”

“Is that true?” Sanji asks, turning to Zoro, who nods.

“Shimotsuki Kozaburo,” he says. “He was a swordsmith who fled Wano decades before any of us were born, and eventually settled here in the East. I knew him briefly growing up, as well as his son and granddaughter.”

“Whereas I’m afraid I never had the pleasure,” Hiyori confesses. “He passed away long before Wano was freed.”

“He was a grumpy old bastard when I met him,” Zoro chuckles. “Told me to scram the first time he laid eyes on me.”

“I can only imagine what you were doing to annoy him,” Sanji drawls, patting Zoro’s arm when he gives him a dirty look.

“Regardless,” Zoro says then. “Even Kozaburo kept largely quiet about where he came from, and none of his descendants are left here either.”

“Or anywhere,” Hiyori adds sadly.

Sanji glances at the pair of them. “I’m sorry,” he says awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Hiyori says crisply, once again digging into her meal. “Though if your husband hasn’t told you about the role he played in saving my homeland, you should get him to rectify that at once. It’s quite the story.”

“It wasn’t that big a deal,” Zoro says, shrugging when Sanji focuses his attention on him. “Your people were already mobilizing by the time your brother recruited Luffy and I, and I wasn’t the one who brought down Kaido himself.”

“No, but you helped clear the path for Luffy by taking down Kaido’s top subordinate, and nearly dying in the process, might I add,” Hiyori counters. “If you hadn’t done that, it might have been all for nothing.”

“They were both unconscious for a week after it happened,” she adds for Sanji’s benefit. “I personally helped care for their wounds, as they were dreadful.”

“And yet here I am, very much alive,” Zoro says when Sanji blanches. “As is Luffy, wherever the hell he’s fucked off to this time.”

“When was the last time you saw him?” Hiyori asks.

Zoro frowns, trying to recall the answer. “After I took over Shimotsuki, but not recently. At least a year ago, I’d say. But you know how he is,” he reminds her. “That one values his freedom more than anything else, except maybe food.”

“Wait until he learns you’ve married a talented chef then,” she laughs. “He may never leave.”

“If anything could get him to stay in one place, that might be it,” Zoro laughs. “But he’d drive the poor cook here to his wit’s end.”

“He can’t be that bad,” Sanji says. He’s heard a few stories about Luffy by this point, and refuses to believe the tales about the man’s voracious appetite. “Everyone has a breaking point when it comes to how much food they can handle.”

“If that’s true, I don’t think Luffy’s found his yet,” Zoro says, while Hiyori nods next to him.

“Not based on what I saw of him in Wano,” she agrees. “Although, that did pale in comparison to his fighting stamina.”

“But enough about that,” she says then. “Prince Sanji, you’ve apologized for not knowing much about Wano, but I’m afraid I have to confess I know nothing about Germa beyond the fact that it’s in the north and naval based. Tell me about your homeland. You’re a member of the Vinsmoke family, aren’t you?”

“No,” Zoro says tersely, while Sanji’s still trying to formulate a response. “He’s not.”

“At least, perhaps not anymore,” Sanji hedges more tactfully. “I’m afraid the rest of the Vinsmokes and I are not very close.”

“What does that mean?” Hiyori wants to know. “I only ask because if they’re friends of Shimotsuki then they’re friends of Wano. Whereas, if they’re not … ” She trails off ominously, her meaning plain.

“They are neither friends of Shimotsuki nor Kuraigana,” Zoro says flatly. “And I intend to personally see to it that they rack up plenty more enemies by the time I’m through.”

“I see.” Hiyori says, and in her expression he once again sees the woman who’d snuck into enemy territory during the heat of battle to aid her late father’s surviving retainers and kill the man who’d betrayed her family. “Then you can add Wano to your list.”

“You helped us in our time of need,” she adds firmly. “So it’s only fair that we do the same.”

*****
“Are you planning on coming to bed tonight, or should I resign myself to sleeping alone?” Already bundled up beneath the covers, Zoro reclines back against the pillows, hooking his hands behind his head as he glances at where Sanji’s still seated at the vanity he’d insisted on having placed in their room.

“As I’ve told you multiple times now, a good skincare routine is not to be laughed at,” Sanji says haughtily from where he’s rubbing all manner of creams over his face. “Also, if I don’t brush my hair before bed, it’ll be an absolute bird’s nest all day tomorrow.”

“You are married to this country’s king,” Zoro points out tiredly. “If anyone makes fun of you, I can just have them beheaded.”

“One) no, thank you, and two) we both know that you, O’ Mossy Majesty, are likely to be the first person to mock me,” Sanji points out, correctly as it happens. “So unless you’re planning to decapitate yourself, I don’t see how that’s a reasonable solution.”

“Furthermore,” he says, picking up one of his many brushes and beginning to run it through his hair. “You’ve just reminded me of something I wanted to ask you about. I hope you’re not planning on going to sleep anytime soon.”

Zoro grunts, and closes his eye. “Well, I’m not in bed for no reason, but if it’s that important to you, ask your question and we’ll see if I feel like answering it.”

He hears a faint chuckle from the direction of the vanity, followed by a click that is presumably Sanji setting his brush down. A few seconds after that, he feels the mattress dip next to him, and cracks his eye back open.

Rolling over onto his side, Sanji props himself up on one elbow and peers at him through the fringe of his hair. “It occurred to me tonight that I’ve never asked you for your version of events for how you became king of Shimotsuki.”

“My version?” Zoro repeats.

“Mhm,” Sanji nods. “Let’s just say, I suspect it’s a little different from the one I was told on the way over here.”

Shifting to mirror his posture, Zoro looks at him. “And what were you told?”

Sanji reaches out with his free hand and snags the chain that holds Zoro’s wedding band, twisting it around his fingers as he speaks. “Basically, that you were pissed off over the fact that you’ll never inherit Kuraigana thanks to Perona, so you went and conquered a place of your own by force.”

Zoro can’t help but laugh. “Really?” He asks, snickering more when Sanji nods. “That’s not even remotely close to the truth. I mean, I did leave Kuraigana, but it was because I wanted to get battle experience so I can one day surpass Mihawk as a swordsman. I never wanted to be a king. Hell, I still don’t. I just couldn’t leave Shimotsuki on its own.”

“Meaning?”

Zoro thinks it over, wondering how far back he’s going to have to go to provide the context for the whole mess. “First of all, Shimotsuki’s had ties to Kuraigana for years. It was a nation of swordsmiths, and we were a nation of swordsmen and women, so naturally the two gravitated towards each other.”

“When I was growing up, Kozaburo’s granddaughter, Kuina, was probably the best friend I had. We saw each other often and trained together, typically under her father. She never lost to me in all the time I knew her, and if she’d lived to be an adult she’d probably still have been better than me.”

Sanji frowns, his fingers stilling against Zoro’s chest. “What happened to her?”

“Freak accident,” Zoro says soberly. “She fell down a flight of stairs and broke her neck, which killed her instantly. I happened to be visiting Shimotsuki at the time, otherwise I probably wouldn’t have even been able to go to her funeral. I stayed for a while after that too, and for the first several years came back often, mainly to check on her father, Koushiro.”

“That was kind of you.”

Zoro shrugs. “In many ways, I considered them family.”

“Is that why you now hold their throne?” Sanji asks. “Because they felt the same way about you?”

“In a sense,” Zoro says darkly. “But it wasn’t something I ever wanted.”

Sanji’s hand shifts upwards, curving around Zoro’s jaw so that his thumb can stroke back and forth across his cheek. “What happened?”

Zoro blows out a heavy breath. “When I was seventeen, I left Kuraigana for good, determined to get in the practice I needed to beat Mihawk. Eventually I met Luffy, and we went on all manner of insane adventures together, often making new companions along the way.”

“Such as Hiyori.”

“Mhm,” Zoro nods. “And her brother, Momonosuke. Nefertari Vivi in Alabasta. Others in Dressrosa, Ryugu, Drum, to say nothing of the everyday people we came across - we had encounters in more places than I can count.”

“And then one day,” he says quietly. “A message reached us from Shimotsuki. It had been attacked, and a madman was sitting on Koushiro’s throne, all while terrorizing the surrounding villages, such as Syrup and Cocoyasi.”

Sanji’s eyes widen in surprise. “Those are the places where Usopp and Nami grew up.”

“Yes, Luffy and I met them both on the way here, and we all worked together to take back the country. We were successful, but it came at a price.”

Sanji’s hand never ceases in its movements. “How many dead?”

Zoro blows out a heavy breath. “Not as many as you might expect, but Koushiro was among them. With him gone, that was the end of the Shimotsuki line because - somewhat ironically - the only other one died a few months prior in Wano. It left the throne up for grabs.”

“And you took it?”

“Under duress,” Zoro replies. “Of the four of us who spearheaded the attack, I’m the only one with royal blood. More importantly, my specific royal blood is tied to someone no other kingdom was going to risk making an enemy of. I agreed to stay on, essentially as a figurehead, under the agreement that Nami and Usopp would help me keep the whole kingdom from collapsing into ruin.”

“Kuina was my friend,” he says softly. “And her father my teacher. It may not be what I planned to do with my life, but I couldn’t let their home be destroyed when there was something I could do to help.”

Sanji’s quiet for several moments, until he shuffles over so that he can press their foreheads together. “You are a far better man than you give yourself credit for,” he says. “And, I would pay good money to see Judge’s reaction to hearing that story.”

Zoro laughs, the tension brought on by telling his tale leaching out of him as the sound echoes around the room. “How disappointed do you think he’d be?”

“Immeasurably so,” Sanji assures him. “To think that the Demon of the East has a sense of honour that strong, it’d probably drive the man to drink.”

“Someday,” Zoro says firmly, pressing back and nuzzling the side of his face. “That man is going to learn what a colossal mistake he made in bringing us together, and it’s going to be one of the most incredible experiences of my life.”

Sanji shifts in the bed, adjusting the hold he still has on Zoro’s face so that he can tilt him downwards and press a kiss to the centre of his forehead. “I look forward to it,” he murmurs.

*****
Hiyori is anxious to continue on about her appointed task, so their visitors from Wano move on early the next day. The castle quickly returns to its usual state, and soon it’s as if they were never there at all.

For his part, Zoro’s fine with this. He’s never been much of one for gala events where he has to play host, and even though he’s fond of the guests they’ve had recently, he’s happy to return to what he’s come to consider his everyday living.

“Are you even listening to me?! So help me god, if you’ve fallen asleep again, you’re going to get my staff up your ass.”

Zoro grunts to show he’s still awake - if largely uninterested in whatever it is Nami’s been prattling on about for the past ten minutes. He thinks longingly of the new practice dummies Franky’s promised him for the training grounds, and wonders how long it’s going to be before he can make his escape.

He distantly hears Nami make a frustrated sound, and finds his attention shifting quickly when she slams her aforementioned staff down on the parchment laden table. “Zoro!” She barks, glaring at him. “These budgetary reports are important.”

“They’re also boring,” Usopp says before Zoro can beat him to the punch. “Not that I’m disagreeing with you about their importance,” the younger man is quick to add, raising his hands protectively when Nami looks as if she’s about to turn her wrath on him. “Just that the topic isn’t exactly a scintillating one, that’s all.”

Nami sighs, but slumps back into her seat. “Be that as it may,” she concedes, “but the fact remains that we have a limited amount of funds and many areas that could use them. Several parts of Shimotsuki still haven’t recovered from the coup a few years ago, and we need to figure out which to prioritize with what money we do have.”

“Can’t we just ask one of our allied countries for help?” Usopp asks. “I’m sure someone would be willing to offer us a loan.”

“They might,” Zoro says before Nami can respond. “But that will cause more problems in the long run. Shimotsuki needs to be able to stand on its own two feet. If we go looking for handouts, it’ll be a temporary fix at best.”

“That’s not quite how I would have put it, but you’ve summed up the overall issue in principle,” Nami admits, giving him an approving nod. “No matter what we do, the next few years are going to be rough, so we need to figure out where best to expend our resources.”

“Fine,” Zoro says, because he does actually have enough political acumen to know there’s no reason to disagree with her. “I take it you have some ideas on what we should be doing.”

“Well, actually - ” She starts, only to be interrupted by the chamber door opening,

Most of the people who refuse to knock around Zoro are already in the room, so he’s not overly surprised when it’s Sanji behind the door. He is, however, surprised to see the man carrying a large covered serving tray.

“You three missed supper,” he scolds without even bothering to be invited in. “Make space on the table, or I’m simply going to set this down on top of your work. Except yours, of course, Nami. You can do as you please, dear.”

“No, it’s fine, Sanji,” she replies, straightening her parchments into a mostly neat pile and sliding it to the side. “I didn’t realize how late it was getting.”

As if it’s suddenly woken up, Zoro’s stomach starts rumbling, and he straightens in his seat when Sanji removes the cover on his tray to reveal four hearty bowls of stew and a side plate of bread to dip in it. “Are you going to be joining us?”

“Unless one of you is expecting to get twice as much food as the others, I thought I might,” the cook replies. Setting the plate of bread in the centre of the table, he then begins dishing out the bowls as well, placing one in front of each person, and the forth by the empty seat on Zoro’s right.

“That smells divine,” Usopp says appreciatively, then he moans when he swallows his first spoonful. “It tastes divine too.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Sanji says. “Give me a moment, and I’ll be back with the wine and some glasses.”

“You don’t deserve him,” Nami sighs happily as she digs into her own bowl. “But I find myself increasingly glad that you said yes to that marriage proposal.”

“Hear hear!” Usopp chirps, while Zoro ignores them both in favour of dipping a hunk of bread in his soup and then tearing into it. He’s well aware of how lucky he’s been as of late, and he doesn’t need anyone else to tell him.

As if summoned, Sanji now returns with a smaller tray held aloft, this one containing the promised bottle of wine and four empty glasses. He quickly spreads out the glasses, pops the bottle open, and pours a drink for everyone present before finally taking a seat of his own.

“Did you spend all day in the kitchen again?” Zoro asks.

Six months ago that question would’ve made Sanji feel like he was being interrogated, and would have immediately put him on the defensive. Today, he recognizes it for the idle curiosity it is, and grins. “The meals don’t prepare themselves.”

“No more than Nami’s budgets apparently organize themselves,” Usopp comments from where he’s still happily spooning soup into his mouth.

Sanji raises a curled eyebrow and sets down the glass he’s just taken a sip from. “Is that what’s been taking up all your time today? I figured it had to be something important, but I was trying not to interrupt.”

“Lucky for us that you did,” Usopp sighs. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was until we had food in front of us.”

Sanji shakes his head somewhat irritably. “You three can’t run a country on empty stomachs,” he gripes. “Don’t make me put you on a schedule.”

“Honestly, at this point I think we all would welcome the distraction,” Nami says from her spot at the table. “Before you came in Sanji, I was just about to explain to these two that I know how much money we have available to spend, but I have very little idea of what best to spend it on.”

“How so?” Sanji asks.

“It’s like this,” Nami says, the possibility of a responsive audience apparently loosening her tongue. “Because of what a mess Shimotsuki was reduced to when it was attacked, we have very little up to date knowledge on the state of her outlying regions. We have some, mainly thanks to people who’ve travelled to the capital from them, but I’m hesitant to bet on how accurate they are.”

“Well, then it sounds to me as if you need to send someone to get updated information.” Sanji says, voicing aloud the thought that’s currently making its way through Zoro’s own brain.

“I know,” Nami agrees. “In fact, that’s where I was heading with this before you arrived with the food. Someone’s got to get out there and see what’s happening on the ground for themselves.”

“And who did you have in mind?”

“Well,” Nami says slowly. “As it happens - me.”

Zoro blinks, taken aback. “It’ll take weeks to cover the kind of ground you’re talking about,” he points out. “If not longer. Are you sure you can force yourself to spend that long sleeping rough?”

She gives him a dark look. “First of all, I have plenty of experience in ‘sleeping rough’ as you call it if the circumstances call for it. Second of all, there are inns and things spread throughout the country, and I’m willing to spend your personal gold on finding myself suitable accommodations.”

“Not just you,” Sanji says, while Zoro grumbles under his breath. “If you’re going on the king’s business, you should bring a retinue with you. Also, if he’s willing, I think you should take Franky.”

“Franky?” Nami repeats, her obvious surprise echoed on both Usopp and Zoro’s faces. “What on earth for? I mean, he’s an imposing figure, I suppose, but if I have some of the guards, I won’t need him for that.”

“No, but he’s a talented craftsman, and his skill doesn’t end at the forge,” Sanji says, his shoulders hunching slightly when they all continue staring at him. “I’m assuming the projects you’re considering would be construction related, yes? Roads, bridges, that sort of thing?”

“Well then,” he continues when Nami nods. “Doesn’t it make sense to bring someone who can tell you exactly what amount of work would be needed in a given place? Then you could figure out the cost of each project with your own knowledge, and create a picture of what can and can’t be done.”

“What?” He asks when nobody says anything for a moment. “Am I wrong?”

“No,” Nami says quickly. “You’re entirely correct. I, however, am wondering why we’ve been wasting you in the kitchen when you clearly have some skill as an administrator.”

“He likes being in the kitchen,” Zoro growls when her words leave Sanji looking uncertain. “You’re not taking that from him.”

“Of course not,” she says, brushing away his concerns with a dismissive wave of her hand. “But, having said that, Sanji, would you be interested in joining me on this venture I’m proposing? I think I could use you to bounce ideas off of.”

“You’ll be gone for the better part of a month!” Zoro protests. “Take Usopp.”

“Usopp and I can’t both go for a month,” she replies with a snort. “One of us has to stay here and make sure you don’t run the kingdom into the ground if left unsupervised.”

“But - !” Zoro tries again.

Nami gives him a flat stare. “Surely you’re not about to imply that His Highness needs your permission to go on a trip like this, are you Zoro?”

Zoro deflates immediately. “Of course not,” he mumbles sheepishly. “If he wants to go, he’s more than welcome.”

All eyes turn to Sanji, who’s chewing nervously on his bottom lip. “I am interested,” he admits, when he notices that everyone is looking at him. “I still haven’t seen Shimotsuki’s outlying territories, and the project is certainly worthwhile. It’s just - that’s such a long time away from home.”

Zoro’s chest does something alarming at the notion of the prince missing being away from home, but at the same time, it’s clear the man wants to go. If it’s that important to him, then who is Zoro to get in the way?

“You should do it.” He says, awkwardly clearing his throat when Sanji’s eyes widen. “If you want to, that is. The palace will still be here when you get back.”

Sanji eyes him carefully for a few seconds, before his expression softens. “You promise you won’t destroy the place while we’re gone?” He teases. “God help you if you do so much as a lick of damage to my kitchen in my absence.”

“Please,” Usopp scoffs. “Not even Zoro’s that stupid, and I’ll be around to keep an eye on him. I’ve got plenty of experience in heading off his more ridiculous ideas.”

“Watch it, longnose,” Zoro growls ominously, making the other man squeak.

“Alright,” Nami says then, pitching her voice high enough that no one misses her attempts to get their attention. “It seems like we have an overall idea, but trips like these take time to plan. It’s not going to happen overnight.”

Thank god, Zoro thinks to himself. He’d never admit it out loud, but if he’s going to be parted from Sanji for a month, he’s going to need time to come to terms with it.

*****
Unfortunately, in the end Zoro’s granted very little time indeed. Nami’s motivated to get the trip over and done with as quickly as possible, so she throws her considerable dedication into getting it arranged. Before Zoro knows it, he’s kissing his husband goodbye in the stables, and then watching Sanji and the rest of their entourage depart through the palace gates.

“This is stupid,” Zoro says when the last horse has disappeared out of sight. “It’s stupid and I don’t like it.”

“Is it strange that I feel hungry already?” Usopp asks from his spot beside him. “That’s probably strange, isn’t it?”

“Everything you do is strange, Usopp,” Zoro sighs. “And often annoying.”

Usopp looks at him out of the corner of his eye, and then reaches out to pat him on the shoulder. “I know that’s just because you miss Sanji already,” he says. “I promise I won’t take it to heart.”

“Mr. Longnose, I’m not sure His Grace appreciates the kindness you’re showing him right now,” Robin says quietly. “In fact, I think he might be giving serious consideration to removing your hand at the wrist.”

“ … right.” Usopp says, a slightly manic expression on his face as he pulls his hand back. “I’ll just … go find something else to do, shall I?”

“You do that,” Zoro agrees, grunting when the younger man takes off at speed. He watches him go for a moment, and then turns to look at the woman standing on his other side.

Robin smiles serenely back at him, her expression as difficult to read as ever. She’d come down to see her husband and the other’s off, but Franky had been the more emotional of the two by far. Robin had accepted the blubbering engineer’s repeated affections, but had otherwise seemed rather unphased by the whole thing.

“Won’t you miss him?” Zoro asks, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“You mean Franky?” She asks, giving a small incline of her head when Zoro nods. “Of course, I will, but the sooner he leaves, the sooner he can come back, and I find there’s some small modicum of comfort in that.”

Zoro considers this. “I suppose,” he says, after a moment.

Robin eyes him, a teasing glint lurking in the far depths of her dark eyes. “I assume you’ll miss your prince as well, won’t you?” She asks, her lips curving up in a small smile that suggests butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. “This is the longest you two will have been apart since you married.”

“Don’t remind me,” Zoro grunts. “But it’s fine. They’ll all be back soon enough like you’ve said, and the trip is for a good cause.”

“It is,” Robin agrees, and Zoro supposes that’s all there is to say on the matter.

*****
The days crawl by at a snail’s pace, and the nights even slower still. In the past half a year, Zoro’s become entirely used to Sanji’s presence, and now that he doesn’t have it, he finds himself unsure of what to do with himself.

At first he throws himself into training, but that only works so well. He’s gotten too used to not pulling his attacks when sparring thanks to Sanji, and the men who’ve been left behind quickly start complaining about their bouts with him. As well, without Franky around to reinforce them, he thoroughly destroys all the training dummies within the first week.

By the end of the second week, no one left is willing to step into the ring with him, and he finds himself irritably doing strength and conditioning training while an amused looking Usopp looks on.

After that, he takes to poking around the castle, figuring there must be something he can find to do to take his mind off things. Usopp finds this considerably less entertaining, and frequently shoos him away under the guise that he’s causing more work than he’s finishing.

He visits Chopper in the infirmary, which just seems to confuse the little doctor more than anything else, wander’s out to Johnny and Yosaku’s village to go fishing, only to catch too much and have to give it away, and finally ends up napping morosely in the library because all of his usual haunts remind him of Sanji. At least Robin won’t judge him, given that she’s in a similar predicament.

The one place he adamantly refuses to set foot in is the kitchen because that’s Sanji’s domain, and he’s no longer capable of picturing it without the cook running it. Mealtimes are likewise a challenge because none of the food tastes right.

“Truly, if I’d lived to be a hundred, I never would have imagined you could get so dramatic over something so simple,” Usopp says one night when they’re taking supper in Zoro’s study together. “You’re actually glaring at your food.”

“Because it tastes wrong,” Zoro grumbles, poking despondently at the noodles on his plate.

“It tastes perfectly fine,” Usopp counters, slurping up a mouthful just to prove his point. “Mind you, it’s not quite as good as Sanji’s, but it’s completely adequate. Also, he’s going to be extremely cross if he finds out you weren’t eating properly while he wasn’t here.”

“I know,” Zoro stresses. “I’m going to finish it, Usopp.”

“Right, you’re just going to mope incessantly while you do it,” Usopp nods. “Got it.”

“I’m not moping,” Zoro snaps. “I’ve never moped before in my life.”

“Which might be why you’re abjectly terrible at it,” Usopp surmises, looking amused when Zoro glares at him. “Oh, do try and cheer up, Your Majesty. You’ve already made it through three weeks, so they’ll be back any day now.”

“It’s going to be at least another week,” Zoro grumbles morosely. “If not longer.”

“You’re pouting,” Usopp informs him. “If Sanji were here, he’d tell you that causes frown lines.”

“But the cook’s not here, so who cares?” Zoro retorts, determined to sulk even harder. “For that matter, for all we know, they could be delayed and it might still be months before they return.”

Usopp rolls his eyes. “They would have to physically leave Shimotsuki’s borders for that to happen,” he says. “Unless someone were to become injured. In which case - ” he adds sharply, when Zoro jerks as if he’s been slapped, “they would send a message to let us know. So far the only correspondence we’ve received has said that everything is progressing exactly on schedule.”

“Still,” Zoro mutters.

“Nothing I say here is going to appease you, is it?” Usopp asks. “Fine,” he adds when Zoro shrugs, “but I hope you know I intend to tell His Highness all about your behaviour when he returns. I might even prepare a little handwritten report for him and Nami to review.”

“Try it and I’ll tie your nose in a knot.”

*****
Luckily for them all, Sanji and Nami’s trip can’t last forever. Eventually, the returning caravan is spotted by someone manning the battlements, and a page is dispatched to Usopp’s office, where Zoro can typically be found making a nuisance of himself these days.

It’s unclear who’s more relieved to hear the girl’s announcement, but Zoro’s definitely the faster of the two of them when it comes to getting out the door. Usopp races after him, however, shouting dire predictions about how he’ll wind up in one of the castle turrets without someone to lead the way.

Zoro ignores him, and the stairways only shift once or twice before he bursts out of the castle and bolts down the main steps. He then slows his approach deliberately once spotting the returning convoy, casually adjusting his cloak around his shoulders and taking care to ensure his breathing is under control.

The same can’t be said for Usopp, who’s had to run to keep up with him, and is now a panting mess as he stumbles after the king. The sniper’s grumbling can be made out clearly even despite his apparent exhaustion, and Zoro rolls his eye as he hears himself called a number of unforgivable names in the process.

He spots Nami first among the milling crowd because she’s still seated upon her horse. Then, as a number of guards move out of the way, Sanji becomes visible, and it’s clear that he’s helping the redhead down from her mount.

“There you go, dearest,” he’s saying as Zoro comes within earshot. “Watch your step now.”

“Thank you, Sanji, but I think I’ve got it,” Nami replies. Glancing around the yard, her eyes land on Zoro and she smirks. “More importantly, I think there’s someone here who’d like to see you.”

“Hmm?” Turning in the direction Nami’s indicated, Sanji’s mouth twists into a smile when he notices Zoro’s rapid approach. “Hello, Mossy,” he says brightly. “Have you come to welcome us all home?”

Without breaking his stride, Zoro gathers his wayward prince up in his arms, heedless of the fact that half the castle has turned out to witness the return. “I could not give less of a shit about everybody else,” he announces, and crushes their mouths together.

He thinks he hears Sanji make an aborted noise of protest, but the way the man quickly melts into his embrace tells him he can’t be too upset about the reception he’s receiving. And in any event, the catcalls from those around them would have drowned him out even if he had started yelling.

Happily, the blond has a dopey smile on his face when Zoro finally pulls back, and he makes no move to shift the hands he currently has wrapped around the larger man’s shoulders. “I missed you too,” he murmurs, ducking his head to hide the way his cheeks turn red at these words.

Unconcerned, Zoro just takes the opportunity to press a kiss to his brow and inhale the scent of him. Even after a month on the road, he somehow manages to smell like the best thing Zoro’s ever encountered.

“I am going to be a gigantic pain in the ass if you leave me for that long again anytime soon,” he declares. “And you can ask Usopp, I’ve been obnoxious for days now.”

“Poor Mossball,” Sanji coos, his blue eyes dancing as he shifts one hand to flick Zoro in the forehead. “Have you been making a nuisance of yourself while I was gone?”

“Yes!” Usopp calls from somewhere in the crowd, and Zoro thinks he can make out Robin’s distinctive snicker as well.

Sanji laughs, but his teasing expression soon fades in favour of something more gentle. “It’s good to be home,” he says, pressing their foreheads together. “I enjoyed the trip overall, but I find I’ve gotten quite spoiled here in the palace.”

Determined to thus make up for lost time, Zoro opens his mouth to say as much, only to be interrupted by an ear splitting cackle nearby. Half fearing they’re under attack, his hand flys to the hilt of his swords as he turns, but he’s stopped just as quickly by Sanji’s fingers on his arm.

“Don’t be alarmed,” the other man says in a rush. “That’s just Brook.”

“Who the hell is Brook?” Zoro demands.

He soon gets his answer when the man in question materializes out of the crowd. Standing so tall that it gives Zoro a crick in his neck to look at him, he’s confronted with wild curly hair, an alarmingly grinning mouth, and deep set eyes in a face that’s so thin it appears almost skeletal. The grinning man’s clothes have also seen better days, unlike the lute he has slung over his back and the thin sword that rests on his hip.

“This is Brook,” Sanji confirms. “He’s a travelling bard we met a few towns back, and he’s agreed to come play at the castle for a while if you’ll have him. Brook, this is Roronoa Zoro, the semi-reluctant King of Shimotsuki.”

“It’s an honour to make your acquaintance, Your Grace,” the newcomer says, doffing a floppy hat and bowing low. He then follows up his introduction with another of the echoing laughs that had first brought him to Zoro’s attention. “I do hope you’ll enjoy my music.”

“ … right,” Zoro says, unable to come up with anything better. “I’m sure I … will?”

“Brook has a lovely singing voice, and he plays all manner of instruments,” Sanji gushes. “Even the pipe organ! I’ve never heard one of those before, can we get one for the castle for him to use? Franky thinks he can build one.”

“I - if you like?” Zoro says, still trying to process whatever the hell it is that’s happening. “I’m sure we could find somewhere to put it.”

Sanji presses a kiss to his cheek at this. “I promised I’d feed him an actual home cooked meal, and I want to put together a banquet to celebrate being back. Can I leave you with Nami for now, while I get started on that? I know she has a number of things she wants to discuss with you about our trip.”

“Of course,” Zoro says, never one to separate Sanji from his beloved kitchens. “But don’t tire yourself out too much because I intend to welcome you back properly tonight.”

“I look forward to it,” Sanji grins. He gives Zoro one last kiss, and then turns to his new friend. “Come along, I’ll rustle you up something to eat, and after that I’ll find someone to give you a tour of the castle, not to mention figuring out where you’re going to be staying.”

“What,” Zoro asks the courtyard at large after they vanish out of sight, “just happened?”

There’s a quiet cough behind him, and when he turns he finds Nami standing there with a smirk on her face that makes him decidedly uncomfortable. “Sanji likes music,” she says before he has a chance to demand a further explanation.

Zoro blinks. “Alright,” he says, not really feeling like he has much to add.

“Sanji likes music,” Nami repeats. “However, apparently he had very little exposure to it growing up in Germa, so he was quite enamoured by the idea of a court musician when we met Brook in a tavern we stayed at.”

Zoro shrugs helplessly, still not seeing why this means he now has some kind of wandering troubadour gracing his halls. “That’s nice?” He tries, shrugging a second time when Nami rolls her eyes.

“He was going to come back here, babbling about having met a musician, and wishing that we had regular entertainment here in the castle.” She explains. “Then you, o’ hopelessly devoted one, were going to come skulking through my door, posseting on the possibility of gifting him with said entertainment and requesting that I figure out how to do so. Under the circumstances, I’ve opted to cut out the middle man.”

“Oh,” Zoro says, once he’s worked his way through exactly what she’s getting at. “Why didn’t you just say so? That’s fine then, and so is this pipe organ thing, or whatever it is he wants. See to it that Franky gets to work on it immediately.”

She gives him a flat stare. “I’m pretty sure he started designing it on the way back,” she says tiredly. “You pathetic, pathetic man.”

“I missed you too, witch.”

*****
“Did you like Brook’s performance tonight?”

Fresh from the bath at Sanji’s insistence, Zoro glances up from where he’s busy toweling his hair dry. “I thought he was quite good,” he says, once he’s gathered his faculties enough to remember the question. “And you were right, he does have a nice singing voice.”

“Doesn’t he?” Sanji agrees. “I hope Franky won’t take too long on the construction of the organ. Nami says there’s nothing quite like them.”

“There isn’t,” Zoro says. Finished with his towel, he flings it towards a pile of other assorted laundry, and steps up behind the prince where he’s seated at his vanity, struggling to get a brush through his hair. “We had one in Kuraigana. Mihawk’s annoyingly fond of it.”

“Interesting,” Sanji says, yanking on his hair yet again. “Can he play it himself?”

“Yes,” Zoro admits. “So can Perona.”

“But not you?”

Zoro leans forward and digs his chin into the top of the seated man’s head. “I say this with all honesty, and not simply because I have no desire to ever perform in public; whatever the definition of musical talent is, I possess the opposite.”

“Duly noted,” Sanji chuckles, pushing him away with the hand not holding his brush. “But step back, would you? I’m having a hard enough time with this already.”

“So I’ve noticed,” Zoro confirms. “Why is that?”

“I’m not sure,” Sanji admits. “But it’s been curling and tangling more during the time I spent on the road. Maybe that had some kind of adverse effect on it.”

Zoro watches him fuss with it for a few moments longer before holding out his hand. “Give that here, would you? The more frustrated you get, the more of a mess you’re going to make of it, and that I will never hear the end of.”

Refusing to relinquish his brush, Sanji instead turns around and stares at him with it still held aloft. “And what, pray tell,” he asks dryly, “do you know about hair care? You barely bother to comb yours at all most days.”

“True,” Zoro says, seeing no point in denying it. “But I also grew up with Perona. She used to make me do her hair in exchange for her silence on things I didn’t want her telling Mihawk. I can even braid it for you if you like.”

Sanji scoffs. “That I’d have to see to believe.”

In answer, Zoro holds out his hand again.

“ … fine,” Sanji says, after a few moments spent eyeing Zoro suspiciously. “But you’d better not make a further mess of things.”

“I promise,” Zoro says, accepting the brush when Sanji hands it over. “Now, close your eyes and no peeking.”

“What? Why do I have to do that?”

“Because you’ve indicated I don’t know what I’m doing here, and therefore need to wait to see the final result,” Zoro says. “Also, turn back around. I can’t do anything with you glaring at me like that.”

Sighing dramatically, Sanji shifts to face the mirror, pointedly closing his eyes where Zoro can see him. “How’s this?”

“That’s fine,” Zoro says, and gets back to work.

It’s been years since he’s done this, but he finds it coming back to him as he works to gently pry the tangled strands of hair apart. Eventually, Sanji’s hair is as silky smooth as ever, after which he’s able to start twisting it into an intricate braid around his fingers.

“You know, Perona never used to wait so patiently when she’d make me do this,” he remarks as he carefully measures the sections of hair to ensure that they’re of similar thickness. “She’d complain the whole time about what I was doing wrong, and say I was pulling too hard.”

“You’re not pulling too hard,” Sanji assures him. “However, as for what you’re doing wrong, I cannot comment on that since I’m not allowed to look. I suppose we’ll both have to wait until you’re done in that regard.”

“Very funny.”

“I thought so.” Sanji replies, but while he might have his eyes closed, Zoro’s is wide open, which means he can see the fond smile on the prince’s face that’s reflected in the mirror. “Hurry up, Mossy. I want to see your handiwork for myself.”

“In a moment,” Zoro replies. Glancing around for something to tie off the hair, he spots a few of the laces Sanji uses when he does this himself. Fishing one out of the dish it’s resting on atop the vanity, he loops it carefully around the end of the braid and steps back to admire the job he’s done.

Satisfied that he’s created a perfectly respectable braid, he rests his hands on Sanji’s shoulders. “Alright,” he says. “You can open your eyes now.”

Sanji does so, at first only a tiny fraction, but then almost alarmingly wide. Concerned, Zoro watches as the prince stares at the mirror, looking dumbfounded, and awkwardly clears his throat. “If you hate it I can - ”

The rest of his offer to undo his work gets cut off when Sanji stands abruptly and curls both his hands around Zoro’s jaw. “I - ” The blond says, sounding overcome as he leans in close. “I have a confession to make.”

Zoro swallows heavily, his heart beginning to pound in his chest. “Alright,” he says. “I’m listening.”

Sanji looks at him, his face flushed and his eyes wide. “I fear I’m falling in love with you, and I have no idea what to do.”

Zoro chokes, his heart rate somehow ratcheting up impossibly further as he cups his own hand around the back of the prince’s head and tucks his face into the crook of his neck. “So,” he says raggedly, “am I to gather from this that you approve of my work?”

A wet laugh escapes Sanji’s throat, and he rubs his cheek against Zoro’s bare shoulder. “It’s lovely,” he says. “So lovely that I might not even tease you in front of Nami and Usopp in the hope that you’ll do it for me again sometime.”

Curling his other arm around Sanji’s back, Zoro holds the man close, basking in the feel of the two of them pressed together. “We both know I’d do it again even if you did,” he murmurs softly. “Because, of course, I love you too. I have for quite some time, my prince.”

Sanji’s breath hitches, and Zoro feels a splash of wetness hit his shoulder. Alarmed, he hooks his thumb under Sanji’s chin and tilts the man’s face up, finding his eyes brimming with tears exactly as he’d feared.

“I’m happy,” the prince says in a rush. “I swear it’s because I’m happy.”

“Still,” Zoro says, dashing the liquid away with the same thumb. “You’ve had enough cause for tears in your life, I don’t want to be responsible for any more.”

“Oh, you ridiculous man,” Sanji groans, throwing his arms around Zoro’s neck. “As if you’ve ever once brought me to tears by hurting me. I’m starting to think you’re incapable of cruelty.”

“I’m not at all incapable,” Zoro confesses, kissing the shell of his ear. “But you most definitely bring out a different side of me.”

“Me and your friends and your people and your sister and - mmph!” Sanji’s teasing rant it cut off when Zoro kisses him, after which, neither of them says much of anything for quite some time.

*****
The days following Nami and Sanji’s return are busy. The two of them, plus Franky, have come back with a much better idea of the immediate needs of Shimotsuki, and a desire to put their thoughts into action. Since Zoro is in complete agreement with this plan, he likewise throws himself into whatever’s needed of him.

This has the unfortunate result of meaning that he and Sanji don’t have much time to themselves in the coming days. They see each other mainly early in the morning and late in the evening, but are otherwise both kept busy with their allotted tasks.

Zoro tolerates this for a little while, but ultimately kicks up a fuss over the matter. Nami can accuse him of pouting like a toddler as much as she wants, he’s already been forced to go over a month with Sanji being away from him, he’ll be damned if he lets that continue to happen now that they’re back under the same roof.

Fortunately, Sanji seems to be of a similar mindset. They don’t let it get in the way of their work, and they’re hardly so codependent as to need to be joined at the hip, but they begin carving out time for each other throughout the coming days. Sometimes it’s for sparring, or sometimes Zoro watches the prince work in the kitchens, or sometimes again they simply spend a quiet evening together in their chambers.

It’s during one such evening that a hesitant knock sounds against their door. It’s storming outside, not awfully, but enough that there’s a chill in the air, but they’re comfortably ensconced in the sitting room, each of them curled up in an armchair while a fire crackles merrily between them.

They both look up when the knock rings out, Sanji from the recipe book he’s scribbling in and Zoro from the blade he’s polishing.

“Were you expecting someone? Sanji asks.

“No,” Zoro grunts. “So whoever it is had better have a good reason for bothering us.”

“Then perhaps we’d better find out who it is to see if that’s the case,” Sanji says dryly. Raising his voice slightly, he adds, “Come in.”

The door creaks open, revealing, of all things, an exhausted looking Nami behind it. “I’m sorry to intrude, you two, but we’ve just had a message arrive and I think you both need to see it right away.”

Zoro and Sanji share a look, each of them aware that the matter must be serious for the redhead to be here without any kind of pomp and circumstance. His face softening, Sanji beckons her all the way inside. “What is it, dearest?”

She holds up the letter in question. “You’re not going to like it,” she says. “It’s from Germa.”

Sanji goes pale, while Zoro finds himself wishing for something to stab. When nothing convenient presents itself, he resigns himself to a curled lip instead. “What the hell do those animals want?” He demands.

Nami sighs, now flapping the letter back and forth. “Apparently whoever they wanted to cross our borders to get to is giving them more trouble than anticipated. They’re requesting that Shimotsuki send soldiers to bolster their ranks.”

“Absolutely not,” Zoro scoffs. “What the fuck makes them think we’d ever agree to that?”

“Well,” Nami says, in the tone of a woman searching for patience. “Technically, you are the king’s son-in-law, Your Grace.”

Zoro snorts. “I am nothing of the sort, a fact that you know all too well,” he reminds her. “Just like you’re equally aware that the only treaty we have with Germa contains nothing within it about mutual aid.”

“So am I to assume you want me to reply in the negative?” She asks, her tone dry, but her expression more pleased than not.

“I have no intention of responding at all,” Zoro declares. “Give me that,” he adds, motioning for the letter and skimming through it when she hands it over. “There’s not even anything in here about who their enemy is or what numbers we’d be facing. Does Judge expect me to simply send my people into the complete unknown?”

“Yes,” a quiet voice says, and Sanji frowns unhappily when Zoro brings his head up to look at him. “Judge throws away the lives of his own men without a second’s thought. He’ll be expecting you to do the same.”

“And he thinks I’m a barbarian,” Zoro growls furiously. “Even if I didn’t already have a very personal reason to hate the man, I’m not about to send my people out to be slaughtered at his whim. Cook, do you have any idea who it is he’s out there fighting?”

Sanji shakes his head. “Once I proved how useless I was in his eyes, I wasn’t privy to that sort of information. If I had to guess, though, probably someone he expected to be weaker than him who’d done nothing to earn his wrath.”

“What a horrible man.” Nami says, shuddering.

Sanji gives her a weak smile. “On that point, you’ll hear no argument from me, My Lady.”

“Or me,” Zoro agrees. “He can fight his war without us. All the better if he loses.”

“Perhaps,” Sanji says hesitatingly, “but he won’t be happy with your refusal to help. He may even see it as grounds to attack Shimotsuki.”

“Let him,” Zoro says. “We’ll take precautions to be safe, but I’m still inclined to think a move like that would go worse for him than it would us. And at least this way I’ll still be able to look at myself in the mirror afterwards.”

“Then what do you want me to do about that?” Nami asks, nodding at the letter.

In answer, Zoro tosses it into the fire behind him, watching as it crumples in on itself and catches alight.

“Nothing at all.”

*****
In deference to the fact that Germa is unlikely to lay down and die wherever they are (and more’s the pity) Zoro directs that extra border patrols be posted throughout the country. As it happens that the castle lies very close to the sea, which is technically a border in and of itself, this means he gets ample warning when a small fleet of ships is unexpectedly sighted on the horizon one morning.

“Is it Germa?” Usopp squeaks when a messenger interrupts them in the middle of a working breakfast. “Are they here? Are they angry? Are we all going to be murdered in our beds?!”

“My, Usopp,” Nami deadpans. “Thank goodness we have you here to keep a cool head in a crisis.”

“It’s not Germa,” the messenger says breathlessly, locking eyes with Zoro when all four of the people present turn to stare at her. “Yosaku says to tell you it’s the Sun Pirates.”

“Pirates?!” Sanji yelps.

“Oh, Jinbe.” Zoro says.

“Oh, that’s alright then.” Nami states.

“Oh, that’s not so bad.” Usopp sighs.

Sanji blinks at the rest of them. “I’m sorry,” he says flatly. “But does the term ‘pirate’ perhaps mean something different here than it does in the rest of the world?”

“No, but it’s not pirate-pirates,” Usopp explains, watching as Zoro sends the messenger off with instructions to tell Yosaku they’ll meet him down by the wharves soon. “It’s the Sun Pirates. They’re different.”

“I’ve heard of the Sun Pirates, Usopp,” Sanji informs him. “They’re former officers from the Ryugu Kingdom, and they’re supposed to be quite dangerous.”

“They’re extremely dangerous if you make an enemy out of them,” Zoro corrects. “But there’s much more to Warlord Jinbe and his men than most people are aware of.”

“They’re not traditional pirates, Sanji, mainly because they’re not really pirates at all.” Nami explains when all this does is make the cook frown in confusion. “They’re also not former officers of Ryugu Kingdom. They’re still employed by His Majesty’s navy.”

“They’re spies,” Usopp says bluntly. “They pretended to splinter from King Neptune’s navy years ago so they could have more freedom to go where they please and report back to him. It’s not common knowledge of course, but if you know, you know.”

“Ah,” Sanji says, finally starting to realize what’s happening. He gives Zoro another of his patented looks. “So these are more of your unusual allies, is that it, Mossball?”

“Not mine,” Zoro replies. “Mihawk’s. He and Jinbe go way back.”

“I see. Then I suppose we’d better go greet them.”

It’s just far enough to the waterfront that they opt to go on horseback, and even with that Zoro can see a dinghy laden down with men unloading itself at the dock as they approach. Dismounting from his gelding, he gives the beast a firm pat on the neck and waits for his companions to follow suit, all while keeping half his attention on the dock.

“I’m almost certain I saw Jinbe himself on that boat,” he says, nodding once everyone else is safely on the ground. “It looks like he’s here in person, as opposed to just someone sailing under his flag.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing, do you think?” Sanji wonders.

Zoro shrugs, and offers him his arm as is starting to become traditional between them. “There’s only one way to find out. Shall we?”

Looking more at ease than his previous question would have one expect, Sanji loops his arms around Zoro’s, and together they start towards the dock with Usopp and Nami following close on their heels. They’re met at the edge by Yosaku, who gives them a casual wave.

“Morning, Your Majesties,” the guard says easily. “Sorry if I interrupted your breakfast, but I figured you’d want to know what was happening down here. Johnny’s gone down to greet our guests, but it’s definitely Jinbe.”

“Of course it’s me,” booms a voice Zoro hasn’t heard in years, and when he turns he’s greeted by the sight of a massive man with greying hair and unusually sharp teeth. “You don’t think I’ve given up my spot as Captain of the Sun Pirates yet, do you?”

“I wouldn’t dare to guess,” Zoro says, grinning as he accepts the hearty slap on the back he’s given. “It’s good to see you Jinbe, but what brings you by on such short notice?”

“I’ll give you three guesses, and the first two don’t count.” The older man laughs, nodding at where Sanji’s now hanging back a little behind Zoro’s shoulder. “Word reached us about the stunt you pulled with the Vinsmoke, and we had to come see for ourselves.”

“We?” Zoro asks. He knows Jinbe well enough, but most of his crew are strangers to him.

Jinbe, however, just grins one of his large, toothy grins. “I picked up a couple of passengers about a month back, and one of them in particular was adamant about coming for a visit when we heard you’d gotten married.”

That’s all the warning Zoro gets before everything goes dark. One moment, he’s standing there having a relaxing conversation with Jinbe, and the next a wriggling figure that’s more limbs than anything else has launched itself at him and landed on his head.

“ZORO!” Bellows another voice he hasn’t heard in far too long. “I want to meet your husband, shishishi.”

“Luffy!” Zoro yells back, just as loud, if somewhat muffled thanks to the way the other man is entirely contorted around his shoulders. “Get off, would you? You know I can’t fucking breathe when you do this.”

“Oi, Luf, don’t be climbing on Zoro like that, and in front of his new husband on top of everything.” Zoro feels a sharp tugging sensation, and the next thing he knows he’s staring at his closest friend, who in turn is essentially dangling from his own older brother’s arm.

“Sorry about that,” Ace says sheepishly, more to Sanji than to Zoro himself. “He’s just really excited.”

“Why?” Usopp pipes up from somewhere in the back. “Did he hear that Sanji can cook?”

Luffy’s eyes light up, and Zoro resigns himself to an extremely quick return to the castle.

*****
“Dear god. Where is he putting it all?”

Zoro chuckles, and takes a gulp from the tankard he’s been nursing while Ace, Jinbe, and Luffy work their way through an early lunch. Now Jinbe appears to be done for the time being and even Ace seems to be flagging, but Luffy’s continuing on undeterred.

“I did warn you,” he reminds Sanji, who winces as he watches Luffy strip a leg of lamb down to the bone in seconds. “He’s been like this as long as I’ve known him.”

“He’s been like this his entire life,” Ace clarifies. “Sabo and I used to have to hold him down and sit on him so we could eat first if we wanted any chance of getting anything.”

“Sabo?” Sanji asks.

“Our middle brother,” Luffy says, pausing just long enough to get the words out. “He’s visiting friends of his right now, but we’ll see him again soon. Sanji, your food is so good, I want to eat it forever!”

“Luffy, you can’t just demand that a king be your personal chef indefinitely,” Ace says, cuffing his brother over the head. “It’s rude, and also possibly treasonous.”

“It’s alright,” Sanji says. “If nothing else, I appreciate his enthusiasm. Also, I’m not a king. If you want to be technical, I’m a prince consort.”

“Pffft,” Luffy gurgles around a mouthful of noodles. “If y’r m’rr’d t’ Z’ro, y’r a king,” he mutters, finally swallowing. “Zoro wouldn’t ever marry someone who wasn’t his equal.”

“That’s not how that works,” Sanji tries, but all Luffy does is shrug. “Right, is there anything else I can get you? There’s plenty of food still left in the kitchens.”

“Don’t tell him that,” Nami groans. “He’ll clear out the whole castle if you let him. Ace too.”

“I’m not that bad!” Ace protests, affronted.

“Please, I travelled with you both in Alabasta, remember?” Nami says. “I know exactly how much you two can put away.”

Ace smirks at her. “That’s nice. What I remember about Alabasta is you spending the whole time making eyes at a certain princess. How’s Vivi? Have you heard from her recently?”

“All the time,” Nami replies with a shark-like grin. “She plans to visit in the spring,” she adds, which is news to Zoro. “What about you, how’s Yamato these days?”

“Yama’s still in Wano,” Luffy cuts in, while his brother blushes as red as Nami’s hair. “We were thinking about going there next, but then we heard about Sanji. How come you didn’t invite us to the wedding, Zoro?”

“Because we had about three days to plan it, and no idea where you were,” Zoro replies. “Otherwise, I would have.”

“Oh, alright. That sounds fair. Too bad we missed the feast though.”

“You didn’t miss much there, either,” Zoro mutters. “Like I said, it was a very rushed affair.”

“That’s odd,” Jinbe says, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “I’ve never met Vinsmoke Judge in person, but from what I know of him, I’d expect him to be the kind of monarch who goes all out for something like his child’s wedding.”

“Depends on the child,” Sanji grunts, before realizing that they’ve got a larger audience than usual. “I mean … it’s complicated. Judge and I are … not especially close.”

“Hah,” Zoro adds helpfully.

Luffy swallows his most recent piece of meat and peers at Sanji, his brown eyes serious. “He was mean to you, wasn’t he?”

“He … was not particularly kind,” Sanji hedges.

“That means yes,” Zoro translates. “Vinsmoke Judge is not welcome in these halls, and I certainly don’t consider myself allied to him. In fact, we suspect he might be bound to give us a little trouble in the near future.”

“And why is that?” Jinbe asks.

“Because Germa requested that we send them soldiers to aid in a mess they’ve created on the mainland, and Zoro ignored them.” Nami explains. “I don’t disagree with his decision, but there’s a chance there could be ramifications.”

“Hmm, I see,” Jinbe nods slowly. “That could be an issue, yes. Does Mihawk know about this?”

“About their request, no.” Zoro clarifies. “But he’s fully aware of my position on Germa in general, and the Vinsmoke in particular. He’s no more an ally of theirs than I am at this point.”

“The same actually goes for Alabasta and Wano,” Nami adds, nodding at Ace. “I’ve been in contact with Vivi, so she’s in the loop, and Hiyori visited, what, a couple of months ago now? They’re aware of our position and support it.”

Jinbe clears his throat. “Obviously, I can’t speak for Ryugu without first hearing from Neptune himself, but I suspect it’s fair to anticipate that he’ll side with you as well if trouble does break out.”

“Yeah!” Luffy crows, thumping his fist on the table. “I like Sanji, so if you say this Judge person is bad then I believe you and we’re in too.”

“Saw that one coming,” Ace says. “What are you thinking, Luf? Do you want to stick around Shimotsuki for a while and make sure everything’s okay here? With your permission, of course,” he adds, nodding at Zoro.

Zoro flaps a hand to show he has no issue, and Luffy gives him one of his patented grins. “Yes, let’s do that. I miss spending time with Zoro, and this way I can eat Sanji’s food whenever I want.”

“That’s not why I suggested it.” Ace groans, but it’s already too late. Luffy’s launched himself back into eating, and is too busy tearing into what looks like a salted cod to pay him any further attention. “Well, one way or another, it looks like you’re stuck with us for a while.”

“I think I’ll stay for a bit as well, if that’s alright.” Jinbe says, and when Zoro glances at the older man, he finds his brow furrowed in obvious concern. “I’m assuming Germa will be sending ships to pick up their returning troops when they exit through Shimotsuki. It might be a good idea to therefore bolster your naval presence for the time being.”

“You don’t have anywhere else you need to be?” Zoro asks.

Jinbe shakes his head. “Not imminently so, no. I can’t stay indefinitely like those two vagabonds, but I can delay my departure for a time.”

“Well, don’t feel like you need to put yourself out on our account,” Zoro says. “But if you’re serious, I’m happy to accept your offer. Nami can help arrange accommodations for you all, and perhaps we can get Franky up here to put some new locks on the kitchens.”

“Definitely some new locks on the kitchens,” Sanji says, eyeing Luffy warily.

*****
Zoro wakes to a howling in his ears and an empty bed. Disoriented for both these reasons, he glances around the room, needing a moment to get his bearings so he can try and figure out what’s happened to his husband.

Eventually he’s able to ascertain that the howling noise is, in fact, the wind from outside, and the reason it’s so loud is because someone’s opened one of the doors to the room’s balcony. Figuring this someone was most likely Sanji, Zoro rolls out of bed and makes to follow him.

Sure enough, he can see the other man’s silhouette as he approaches the open door. The cook’s there in nothing but his sleep clothes, thankfully shielded by a small awning that’s keeping the worst of the rain away, but is exposed to the elements nevertheless.

Figuring that can’t be overly comfortable, Zoro slows his steps in order to locate something suitable to cover up with outside. He soon spots his favorite fur lined cloak where it’s thrown haphazardly over the back of a chair, and bundles it up into his arms as he steps through the doorway.

He eyes Sanji from where he’s standing, taking a moment to judge the distance, and then lobs the cloak at the other man’s head, scoring a direct hit in the process. “Put that on before you freeze to death!”

Struggling free of the fabric that’s currently encasing him, Sanji pops his head out and turns to give Zoro a disbelieving look. “You’re worried about me catching a cold out here?” He demands. “You’re not even wearing a shirt.”

“I handle the cold better than you do,” Zoro says, stepping forward so that he can begin tugging the cloak into a more appropriate position. “And I can’t have my husband out here catching frostbite now, can I? I’d never hear the end of it from Chopper.”

“Of course, Marimo.” Sanji says slyly. “I’m sure fear of your doctor is the only thing that’s forced you out here tonight.”

“Eh, the bed was getting cold,” Zoro shrugs.

Sanji gives him a flat look, somehow managing to look even more exasperated than usual with the furs bundled all around him. “The bed was getting cold,” he repeats. “And in order to address this problem you opted to come out into the elements without even a nightshirt. Am I to understand that’s what I’m hearing right now?”

“If you like,” Zoro says, not really caring what he wants to call it. “What are you even doing out here, anyway?”

“Hmm? Oh.” Smiling sheepishly, Sanji nods out at the storm, which is large enough that it seems to have churned up the entire shoreline. “They don’t get storms like this in the North. I like to watch them when I can.”

“And here I was thinking you’d be too busy worrying about Jinbe’s ships out there tonight,” Zoro replies.

Sanji blanches. “Should I be?” He demands one hand fisting tightly in the fur of Zoro’s cloak as he takes a step towards him. “I’d just assumed they’d been here often enough to be familiar with Shimotsuki’s weather patterns, but if it’s something we need to be concerned about - ”

“It’s not.” Zoro says, holding up a hand to stem the flow of animated words, and then shifting that same hand to cup it around Sanji’s cheek. “I was making a joke that was admittedly in poor taste. The cove where he’s anchored is well shielded from the elements.”

Sanji breathes an obvious sigh of relief, and then jabs a finger into Zoro’s chest, narrowly missing the large scar that bisects it. “Don’t say things like that, you oaf. I was enjoying myself, and then you ruined it.”

“My apologies,” Zoro says, grabbing the hand where it’s still irritably prodding at him and pressing a kiss to the knuckles. “I didn’t mean to worry you, or ruin your fun for that matter.”

“Hmmph.” Sanji grumbles, but of course Zoro knows him well enough to tell it’s all for show. “You should get back inside. Just looking at you is making me feel cold.”

“I’m fine,” Zoro insists, having no desire to return to an empty bed if Sanji’s staying out here. “I’ll go back when you do.”

Sanji squints at him, as if he’s not sure what to make of this, and then huffs out a quiet sigh. “You cannot stay out here as you are,” he says, a fondly exasperated smile on his face. “If you won’t go back to bed, then I’m going to have to insist we share the cloak.

Zoro eyes the item carefully. Large enough though it is to dwarf Sanji, the two of them will definitely be a tight fit. However, one glance at the determined look on the other man’s face is enough to make it clear that Zoro can either accept his ultimatum, or they’re both going to wind up in bed. On the surface, that might actually be preferable, but he’d meant it when he’d said he didn’t want to spoil Sanji’s fun.

“Very well,” he concedes in the end. “We can share.”

Grinning, Sanji begins unwinding the covering from around his shoulders.

*****
The sound of music permeates throughout Shimotsuki castle’s halls, mingling with that of animated voices and echoing laughter. Franky has completed work on the requested pipe organ, and Brook’s opening performance has turned into something of an impromptu celebration.

For his part, Zoro’s seated at one of the long tables that have been dragged into the room, a tankard of ale in one hand, and a no doubt dopey smile on his face as he lets his gaze roam around the space.

Across from him sits Luffy, the younger man gleefully working his way through a plate of meat that’s almost as big as he is, while Jinbe sits beside him, nursing his own food and drink as the two of them chat.

A number of people have paired off to dance to the music, couples such as Franky and Robin among them. As well, Lady Kaya appears to have made one of her ever more frequent trips to the castle, and is leading a nervous looking Usopp through the steps. Even Nami’s managed to find a partner, having dragged a grumbling Ace onto the floor with the argument that if neither of their preferred companions are present, they might as well use each other.

Dozens of other residents are about, many of them coming and going so that they can swap out and let others who are working elsewhere have a turn. Even a number of Jinbe’s men have come up from the cove, though several are still down watching their ships.

Zoro feels a slight pressure against his elbow, and glances down to find Chopper leaning somewhat listlessly against him. The little doctor has made one of his rare forays out of his infirmary, but he’s clearly starting to flag as the excitement gets to him. Patting him almost absently on the top of the head, Zoro glances around for the main person he’s missing.

He finally spots him making his way through a crowd of people, Sanji’s blond hair making him easily stand out. The prince has a delighted smile on his face, one infectious enough that everyone who sees it seems compelled to return it.

Including Zoro himself, it seems, because Luffy stops eating just long enough to pin him with a strange look. “I like Sanji,” he says apropos of nothing.

Zoro meets his gaze with one of his own. “Of course you like him,” he says fondly. “He’s been feeding you nonstop since the day you set foot in Shimotsuki.”

“I know,” Luffy replies, “and it’s the best food I’ve ever tasted, but it’s not the only reason I like him. Sanji’s a good person, and he makes you happy.”

In actuality, Sanji’s something of a brat. In the months that have passed since his arrival in Shimotsuki that appalling facade he’d been wearing due to his life in Germa has faded away, revealing an admittedly deeply kind and talented man, but with a sharp tongue and a temper even more fierce than Zoro’s own. He’s a walking set of contradictions most days, an arrangement that just makes Zoro love him more.

And speak of the devil, he’s finally managed to push his way through the crowd of people who’d been seeking his attention, and now he’s standing before Zoro with his hands on his hips and his lips curving up in an impish grin.

“Good evening, Your Grace,” he says, giving a slightly mocking bow.

Zoro quirks an eyebrow at him, wondering what he’s up to. “Your Highness,” he says, figuring he may as well respond in kind. “What can I do for you?”

Sanji’s grin gets even bigger. “You can come dance with me,” he says, extending a hand.

Luffy lets out a hoot of laughter that sprays crumbs all over the table. “Zoro doesn’t dance,” he says, elbowing Jinbe to make sure he’s paying attention. “He’s no fun that way.”

“I can dance,” Zoro says sharply, wanting to clarify this before Sanji starts giving him grief. “I just choose not to.”

“Is that so?” Sanji asks coyly, his hand still held out and waiting for Zoro to take it. “Not even for your husband, a man who’s so rarely been able to enjoy events like this in his life, despite clearly loving the experience?”

“Oh you’re good.” Ace says, using a break in the music as he and Nami sweep by to interject, the redhead laughing at his comment. “Well played, Your Highness. Well played.”

“What did he mean by that?” Luffy asks as he watches his brother and their friend drift off again.

“He means that Sanji knows how to get what he wants from Zoro,” Jinbe explains patiently. “Luckily, he doesn’t appear to use this power for evil, but rather only minor trifles.”

“There’s nothing minor about it.” Zoro grumbles, but he’s standing as the words leave his mouth. He then proceeds to take Sanji’s hand, and allow himself to be steered out onto the dance floor.

“Thank you, darling.” Sanji flutters his eyelashes obnoxiously as he speaks, but his expression does little to mask his genuine pleasure. “Just for this, I’ll even let you lead.”

“You don’t have a choice,” Zoro scoffs. They pause during a break in the action, and then allow themselves to be folded into the crowd. “These are the only steps I know.”

“Hmm, well, I’ll say this for you,” Sanji declares, giving Zoro a scrutinizing look. “You appear to know them fairly well. I’m impressed by your footwork.”

“I’m flattered,” Zoro replies, ignoring the overdramatic face Usopp pulls when they glide past him and Kaya.

“No doubt,” Sanji replies. “Who am I to thank for teaching you? Mihawk or Perona?”

“Technically it was a tutor, but Mihawk was to blame,” Zoro says, rolling his good eye.

“I shall have to compliment him on the idea,” Sanji says, swaying gracefully with the music. “Assuming I ever get introduced to the man, that is.”

“You will,” Zoro promises. “When the opportunity presents itself.”

“Maybe we could take a trip to Kuraigana for our first anniversary,” Sanji suggests. “That’s coming up soon, you know.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Zoro says dryly. “Though I have a hard time believing it’s been that long already.” He pauses for a moment, but then adds before he can think better of it, “I told you the day we met that I hoped you’d be happy here. Are you?”

Sanji has the nerve to laugh at him, although it’s a gentle, fond thing. “You’re fishing for compliments, Your Grace. You know full well how happy I am here, and I doubt very much that that’s going to change.”

“Hopefully not.”

Sanji laughs again, and allows himself to be moved around the dance floor at Zoro’s behest. There’s an air of utter contentment about him that Zoro feels as well, and they sway in each other’s hold as the music wafts about them.

Feeling frankly overcome, Zoro finds himself leaning in to steal a rare public kiss. Usually he saves anything but pressing his lips to Sanji’s hands for when they’re in private, but tonight it seems he’s unable to resist the allure of his husband.

“What was that for?” Sanji asks when he pulls back.

“Nothing in particular,” Zoro replies. “I was just thinking about how much I love you, and wanted to do it.”

Sanji goes pink, and buries his face in Zoro’s shoulder to try and hide it. “Sap,” he murmurs into the fabric of Zoro’s tunic.

Zoro nudges the top of his head with his own jaw. “This is the part where you tell me you love me too,” he reminds him.

Sanji pulls back, his face serious, but before he can say anything, he’s distracted by a new arrival. Jinbe’s second in command has just strode into the room, and as Zoro watches, he begins gesturing pointedly for his leader to come see him.

“I wonder what that could be about.” Sanji murmurs, a sentiment that Zoro echoes.

He’s not left waiting long, however. Jinbe confers with his subordinate for a few moments, his heavy brow furrowing as he listens to what the man has to say, and then he straightens to his full height. As Zoro watches, he scans the crowd of people until his gaze ultimately lands on Zoro and Sanji themselves.

“Zoro,” Sanji says nervously, and Zoro nods to show he’s seen it.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” he says, stalling their dance and tucking the blond’s arm into the crook of his own instead. “But Jinbe obviously wants to talk to us, so we should go see what he wants.”

*****
The Germa fleet has returned to Shimotsuki’s waters. Sanji can’t quite manage to contain a gasp when he hears this, and his face goes pale while Jinbe recounts what his people have spotted. It appears to mainly be empty transport ships, which in turn means the Vinsmokes and their army are likely marching back across their land.

Zoro immediately dispatches a number of people to go act as lookouts, and it’s not long before one returns with exactly the report he’s anticipating. Germa’s army has been spotted in the west, the Vinsmokes returning from wherever they’ve been campaigning with a considerably smaller force than they’d left with.

“That’s not common, but it’s also not unheard of,” Sanji says when they hear this. “Typically Judge deals with those who try to resist him by throwing overwhelming numbers at them until there’s no one left. He doesn’t care how depleted his own forces get in the process, not as long as he wins.”

His shoulders are hunching as he speaks, almost as if the mere mention of his relatives leaves him needing to protect himself, and as Zoro watches, he begins rubbing at one of his wrists, exactly over the spot where one of those damnable bracelets had sat so many months ago.

Without thinking, Zoro reaches out to grab his hand, curling both of his own protectively around it. “Everything is going to be fine,” he says firmly. “If Judge wants anything more than the previously agreed upon safe passage out of Shimotsuki, he will soon find that he has another thing coming.”

Sanji gives him a weak smile, but it’s painfully obvious that his heart isn’t in it. Zoro presses a kiss to the knuckles of the hand he’s holding, and then turns to begin discussing the necessary preparations.

The castle quickly dissolved into a buzzing mass of people going about their allotted tasks, while those who have little to do wait with increasing anticipation. Eventually, much as Zoro is expecting, a messenger arrives and informs him that Vinsmoke Judge has reached the castle and wishes to speak with him.

“What do you want to do?” He asks Sanji, while the rest of their friends and close confidants cluster around them.

“It’s your kingdom,” Sanji replies with a stilted shrug. “I’ll do whatever you decide.”

“It’s not my kingdom, it’s our kingdom,” Zoro says flatly. “As far as I’m concerned, we’re equals, and we will deal with this mess together. So, I repeat,” he stresses, trying not to be distracted by the sudden sheen in his husband’s eyes. “What do you want to do?”

“I want to face him,” Sanji admits quietly. “I want him to see how wrong he was about this country and its people, and then I want to get him the hell out of my life.”

“Good,” Zoro says. “On that much we’re in agreement.”

Turning with Sanji’s hand still clasped in his, he nods at the young page who’s been waiting quietly near the door. “Tell Vinsmoke Judge he can have his audience, but he will be coming to us. We’ll meet him in the throne room when he arrives.”

The page nods, quickly vanishing out of sight, and Zoro glances at their assembled comrades once he’s gone. “Anyone who wants to get out of here should do it now. There’s a very good chance this is going to get messy.”

Not surprisingly, Luffy’s the first person to speak. Grinning wide, he punches one fist into the open palm of his other hand. “We’re staying,” he says, Ace nodding furiously beside him. “If this Judge person wants a fight, we’ll give him one.”

“You know full well we’re not in the habit of giving up on Shimotsuki when things get difficult.” Nami says next, gesturing at Usopp who’s standing at her shoulder. “We’ve fought for this place before, and we’ll do it again.”

“Well said, little sister,” Franky adds next. He then proceeds to throw a large arm first around Robin, and the second over Brook’s bony shoulder. “My lady and I don’t run away from things like this, and I don’t think our new musician friend does either.”

“Indeed not,” Brook agrees, patting his sword. “Doing so would be extremely rude, especially after how you’ve all welcomed me into your home the way you have.”

“If there’s fighting, people will get hurt.” Chopper says with a nervous shrug. “I don’t like the sound of that, but I’d be a very poor doctor if I left and then someone needed me after the fact. I’m staying.”

“Me too,” Kaya adds, her face resolute for all that her nerves are palpable. “I may not be the strongest person here, but I’ll do what I can regardless.”

All eyes then turn to Jinbe, the last to speak, and the burly warrior snorts. “I promised to help if Germa brought trouble to your doorstep, and I intend to see that through.”

“Thank you,” Zoro says, encompassing them all in the simple statement. “Then let’s see what comes next.

*****
The Vinsmokes’ arrival in the throne room is eerily similar to Zoro’s first meeting with Judge all those months ago. There are some notable exceptions, however, such as the fact that the Germa princess and all three princes have clearly seen significant fighting recently, and Judge himself has a heavy bandage covering his right eye.

The other difference, of course, is that Sanji isn’t standing with his relatives. Instead, he’s taken up his usual spot to the right of Zoro’s throne, watching his siblings as they mill about.

Zoro makes no move to stand. These people aren’t his friends, and they’re certainly not his family. Honestly, as far as he’s concerned, they’re one step away from being his enemies, and he has no intention of showing any sign of genuine respect.

“Your Grace,” he says tersely, curling his hands around the arms of his seat in order to stem the urge to reach for his swords. “I see you’ve returned from your battle campaign.”

“No thanks to you,” Judge snaps, apparently equally uninterested in playing nice. “We asked for your aid, and you didn’t come.”

“You asked me to throw my people into a complete unknown with no regard for their safety,” Zoro replies. “I was under no obligation to agree to that.”

“We have a treaty,” Judge spits.

“I’m aware,” Zoro says. “That treaty provides you with safe passage through my territory in exchange for you not harming my people, nothing more. I’ve honoured the agreement.”

“Honoured?” Judge echoes. “What does an animal like you know about concepts like that? I gave you my son. Anyone with half a functioning brain and the most basic understanding of court politics would know that comes with certain onuses, even if they’re unspoken.”

Zoro’s grip tightens to the point that he’s reasonably certain he feels wood crack under his hands. “Sanji is not an object to barter with,” he growls, his voice dropping to a dangerously low register. “And from where I’m standing, he’s also not your son. No father would treat their child the way you’ve treated him.”

One of Judge’s bushy black brows is obscured by the bandage over his eye, but the other shoots up in blatant surprise, and nor is he the only Vinsmoke to showcase such an emotion. The princes remain largely stoic, if not slightly annoyed, yet Reiju’s jaw visibly drops.

It takes Judge a moment to recover, but when he does, he sneers. “Whatever he’s told you, I’m sure it was heavily exaggerated. I did what I could to make him grow strong, and if he took that negatively, that’s on him.”

Rage clouds Zoro’s vision, and he moves to lunge from his chair, only to be stopped when a firm hand lands on his shoulder. “None of that, please, darling.” Sanji murmurs low enough that likely no one else can hear him. “He’s not worth your time.”

An angry noise slips from Zoro’s throat before he can stop it, but he clamps down on it before any more can escape. “Fine.” He grunts. “But only because you asked.”

Sanji gives him a small pat on the shoulder, but doesn’t remove his hand. “Thank you, love.”

Judge doesn’t miss the exchange. His working eye narrows visibly, his brow furrowing as he parses through something within his own head. “You ungrateful wretch,” he says finally, and it takes Zoro a moment to realize he’s talking to Sanji, not him. “What have you been telling these people?”

“The truth,” Sanji replies coolly. “Once I realized it was safe to do so.”

Now Judge glances back and forth between Sanji’s face and where his hand is still resting comfortably atop Zoro’s shoulder. “I see,” he says in a voice that Zoro doesn’t care for in the slightest. “It appears, that, while this marriage situation hasn’t quite played out like I expected, it may still be salvageable.”

“I’m well read on your exploits prior to taking over Shimotsuki, Your Grace,” he says next, speaking directly to Zoro now while one of his hands strays towards his breast pocket. “You’re a brute, a wild thing, a vicious beast with a bloodlust that I’m sure has its place in some scenarios, but for the most part has no use in a civilized world. I must therefore confess, I never once considered the possibility that you’d actually come to care for my useless whelp.”

“Still,” he adds, almost conversationally. “If that’s what’s happened, I’m not opposed to capitalizing on it. Perhaps this might even result in a better outcome for me. Though, I suppose that will depend on just how much he’s managed to bewitch you.”

His piece said, the king of Germa draws a small, cylindrical device from his pocket, and begins twirling it back and forth over his fingers. More concerningly, Reiju blanches in her spot by his side, and makes an aborted move towards him.

Zoro eyes the object carefully, doing his best not to let his growing unease show on his face. “And that is?” He asks.

“An insurance policy,” Judge replies. “One that if I use, will see things go very poorly for your precious husband.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s true,” Sanji says before Zoro can formulate a response. He then draws his hand away, and begins calmly rolling up his shirt sleeves, shoving them both all the way back to above his elbows. “I truly, truly don’t.”

Zoro frowns at him, not following what’s happening. As if he can sense this, Sanji gives him a knowing smile, more of a smirk, really, that tells him not to worry. The blond then has the audacity to sit down on the closest arm of the throne, angled so that his back is partly to Zoro, but that he can twist around and drape his arms around his neck.

A number of snickers ring out among their assembled friends, although Zoro thinks he can hear Chopper asking what’s happening. Meanwhile, Judge is staring at Sanji, his expression souring like that of someone who’s just unexpectedly sucked on a lemon.

“Is something wrong?” Sanji asks, and Zoro can’t see his face at the moment, but he can imagine his deliberately winsome smile all too well. “Don’t tell me you’re bothered by my lack of jewelry, Your Grace. I’m sorry, but those pieces you gave me just didn’t suit me at all.”

Zoro’s brain screeches to a halt, and only the thought of Sanji’s reaction keeps him from launching himself at Judge in a furious charge. “If this is about those vile bracelets,” he spits in a voice laced with poison, “I may very well declare war on your entire fucking country.”

“It is, and you absolutely will not,” Sanji says firmly. “Rather, we’re all going to have a nice, civilized discussion where it’s to be made clear to Judge that he has no leverage over us, but does have a number of very good reasons to leave us alone.”

“Are you threatening me?” Judge demands, scandalized.

“Yes.” Sanji replies. “And it’d be in your best interest to heed what you’re being told. Shimotsuki is not the only kingdom currently represented in this room. Including Kuraigana, there are also people with ties to Wano, Ryugu, and Alabasta. Can you really afford to make enemies of all those lands?”

Judge pales, but does his best to visibly rally. “You’re bluffing,” he insists.

“He’s not,” Nami declares, beating Zoro himself to the punch. “If anything, he’s downplaying the situation. Those are only the countries with people present here. They’re not the only ones we have friendly connections with.”

“Right you are, My Lady,” Sanji says, nodding at her before focusing back on Judge. “I’m afraid you may have bitten off more than you can chew, Your Grace.”

“We kept our end of the agreement,” Zoro adds, taking the opportunity to curl his hand around one of Sanji’s where it’s still looped over him. He presses a kiss to the inside of the other man’s bare wrist and grins. “You can have your safe passage out of Shimotsuki and her surrounding waters, but if you do want to start trouble, we’ll gladly finish it.”

In the distance he hears the sounds of what he’s pretty sure are Ace and Jinbe restraining Luffy from starting a little something of his own. Not really caring if his friend breaks free or not, he returns his attention to his so-called father-in-law and shrugs. “The choice is yours.”

Judge’s face goes nearly purple with rage, and he opens his mouth to give what’s no doubt a scathing retort. Before he can do so, however, Reiju places a hand on his arm and begins speaking hurriedly to him in a hushed home.

“Is she likely to help him see reason?” Zoro mutters for Sanji’s ears only. “Or am I going to get to have some fun here?”

“Hush,” Sanji says, giving him a reproving thump. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not have this devolve into an all out war in the middle of our home.”

“Spoilsport.”

Down below, Judge appears to have come to a decision. Shaking off his daughter’s hand, he draws himself to his full height and pierces them both with a venomous look. “Fine,” he snarls, barely managing to keep himself in check. “Roronoa, you can keep the runt for all I care. At least this way I won’t have to worry about him bringing shame to the Vinsmoke name simply by existing any longer.”

Sanji must have been anticipating a comment like this because his resulting hold on Zoro is the only thing that saves the Germa king’s life.

“No.” He says firmly, his grip like iron as he forcibly keeps Zoro in his seat. “If they’re willing to leave peacefully then let them go. They’re not worth the trouble.”

“But -!” Zoro nevertheless protests.

“I said no, darling.” Sanji replies. “Please, for me? I just want them gone, and I don’t want any of our people to suffer in making that happen.”

Zoro heaves an exceedingly thorough sigh, but nods to show his capitulation. “Very well,” he agrees. “If you insist.”

This said, he motions a hand towards the throne room’s entrance way, catching Johnny and Yosaku’s attention where the two guards are mulling about down there. “Bring a full escort and get them out of here,” he says, nodding at the Germa royals. “And don’t hesitate to use force if they try anything.”

“As if your guards would stand a chance against us on their own,” one of the princes sneers - the blue haired brother.

“Fucking Niji,” Sanji mutters under his breath, clearly exasperated.

Zoro perks up. “Can I stab that one?”

“No.”

“I don’t like how often you’re using that word,” Zoro grumbles.

“How absolutely tragic for you,” Sanji retorts, unmoved. “Quiet down and stop distracting me. I want to see if they’re going to leave without any further fuss.”

Sure enough, Judge and his children file out after the guards as directed. Of the five of them, only Reiju is willing to turn around and look at Sanji as she leaves, her lips turned up in a crooked smile as she whispers something nobody can make out. Then she and the rest of the Vinsmoke are gone, the only remnant of them being the sound of their footsteps echoing down the hall.

“I wanna go make sure they leave,” Luffy announces suddenly. “I don’t trust ‘em!”

“Given our respective power disparities, they’d be extremely foolish if they opted not to follow His Grace’s direction,” Robin muses thoughtfully. “However, stranger things have happened. Perhaps a number of us should go to witness their departure just to be safe.”

“I’m in,” Ace agrees, placing a restraining hand on his brother’s arm. “You stay with me, Luf. I don’t want you wandering off and accidentally causing a war if we’ve managed to avoid one this long.”

“I’ll come too,” Jinbe says, while Franky and Brook nod in tandem. “I should be getting back to my ships anyway, since we’ll be keeping an eye on them as they sail out.”

“That’s a good idea, Jinbe,” Nami says then. “While you’re doing that, I think I’m going to draft up some correspondence to our other allies, so that they’re fully in the loop on what happened here tonight. I don’t want anyone getting blindsided if Judge tries to do something sneaky.”

Usopp, Kaya, and Chopper all filter out as well, with the main doors falling shut behind them, and leaving Zoro and Sanji completely alone in the room. For a moment, Zoro’s not sure if he should say anything, but then Sanji lets out a tired breath, shifts in his seat, and drops himself down into Zoro’s lap.

“You’re heavy,” Zoro complains, which earns him a weak laugh as he’d hoped.

“And you’re incorrigible.” Sanji says, smacking him lightly in the shoulder, before moving to rest his head there instead. “I can’t believe the night we’ve just had.”

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t let me kill any of them,” Zoro grumbles, even as he wraps his arms around his visibly exhausted husband. “Even a little bit of light stabbing would have been worth something.”

“Marimo,” Sanji groans. “Enough.”

“Oi, I didn’t actually stab anyone,” Zoro points out. “Which frankly I feel means I deserve a reward.”

Sanji cranes his neck around until he can peer up at Zoro through his visible eye. “And what, pray tell, would you seek as your prize, Your Grace?”

Zoro doesn’t hesitate. “You,” he says simply. “Just you.”

Sanji makes a point of glancing down at the way he’s now completely curled up in Zoro’s lap. “I think you’ve already got that,” he says dryly.

In response to this comment, Zoro reaches out and lightly tweaks the braid that his hair is twisted into, yet another one applied by Zoro’s own hand. “Then I suppose I have what I want, don’t I?”

Much to his surprise, Sanji flushes and bites his bottom lip. “Sometimes I don’t think I’ll ever understand you,” he admits quietly. “You’re a king, Zoro. You could have chosen anyone to wed.”

“Exactly,” Zoro says, cupping a hand around his cheek and lifting his head up. “And out of everyone, I chose you.”

“You never did explain why,” Sanji says then. “At the time, based on what I thought I knew of you, I understood why you agreed to this marriage. But knowing you as I do now, I can’t figure out why you ever said yes.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Zoro tells him. “I sat in this chair that day with every intention of telling Judge he could have his safe passage and keep his son all the same. Only then I looked up, and there you were.”

Sanji’s lip trembles. “That,” he notes, clearly trying to save face, “sounds an awful lot like believing in fate, love. And we both know how much stock you put in things like that.”

“Maybe,” Zoro says thoughtfully, “but it was the right decision all the same. I love you very much, Your Highness.”

“And I love you, Your Grace.”

*****

Epilogue

“Absolutely not,” Zoro says, crossing his arms over his chest to show he’s serious. “We are not staying in Kuraigana for two months. I refuse.”

Rather than crossing his own arms, Sanji shoves his hands into the pockets of his trousers. Unfortunately, after more than a year together, Zoro is well aware that this in no way means he’s about to cave. In fact, it means he’s about to double down.

“It takes almost a month to get there, which means it will take another month to get back,” he says flatly. “I am not going on a trip to your homeland that’s going to take longer than the visit itself.”

“But two months!” Zoro protests, now wringing his hands in a distinctly embarrassing manner. “With Mihawk! And Perona.”

“That’s another reason I think we should stay longer,” Sanji counters. “Your poor sister was here hardly anytime at all when she visited, and I’ve never even met your father. I want to get to know them.”

“Fuck, why?”

“Darling,” Sanji says dryly. “While I completely understand your reservations about having any contact with my biological family, you do know that’s not the norm, don’t you?”

“Urgh,” Zoro protests. “It should be.” Then he takes a careful look at his husband, who appears no less resolute than he did before. “You really want to stay there that long?”

“I wouldn’t have said so if I didn’t.”

“Fine,” Zoro concedes. “If it’s that important to you, then I suppose I can go that long without strangling Perona with her own hair. Although, I expect it will be a serious struggle.”

“I’m sure I can find some way to repay you,” Sanji replies. “You’ll take care of informing them of when to expect us and for how long then? Or, I suppose, you’ll have Nami sort it out for you?”

“Yes, yes.” Zoro sighs, flapping a hand wearily. “I’ll go find the witch right away, and let her know.”

“See that you do,” Sanji sniffs as Zoro moves to stride past him out of their room. “And stop calling her that!”

Zoro closes the door in an attempt to get his point across, and hears a heavy thud that he suspects constitutes Sanji’s opinion on this. Nevertheless amused, he treks down the hall to Nami’s office, entering without knocking as is only fair.

“I thought I told you to stop doing that?” An irate voice says when he enters.

“Lots of people tell me to stop doing lots of things,” Zoro advises. “Typically, I just ignore them.”

“So I’ve noticed,” she replies. “However, having said that, I’m glad you’re here. I have something I need to tell you about the trip to Kuraigana.”

“He wants to stay for two months,” Zoro cuts her off with a groan. “Which means we’ll likely be gone for twice that long, unless we want to risk travelling through the interior, as opposed to along the coast.”

“Not an option,” Nami informs him.

“Yes, yes, I know,” Zoro says. “My precious husband wants nothing to do with the insects that call Kuraigana’s forests home. I’ve already heard about this at length.”

“Well, given that said insects can be a foot in diameter, I can’t say I blame him.” Nami retorts. “But that actually has nothing to do with what I’m talking about. The forests could be nirvana given form, and you’d still need to go up the coast.”

“What for?”

Nami’s knowing smirk morphs into something much more genuine. In fact, it’s just this side of delighted. “Do you remember,” she says slowly, “that little task you gave me right after Perona’s last visit?”

Zoro freezes. Of course he remembers that ‘little task’, he still checks in with her regularly on it for a reason. Then it dawns on him what she’s hinting at, and he feels his jaw drop. “You can’t be serious,” he says. “In Kuraigana?”

“The one and only,” she says, actively beaming now. As he watches, she proceeds to pull out a handful of parchments from one side of her desk, offering them to him so he can take a look. “Or, more accurately, in her waters, which is why you need to travel the coastal route.”

Zoro takes the papers, unable to believe what he’s holding. “You’re sure?” He asks.

“As I can be,” she replies. “If you’re nervous about telling him and then getting it wrong, though, I do have a few ideas.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Zoro glances down at the papers, and then back up at her again. “That sounds like something we should discuss.”

*****
“Is this some kind of punishment for insisting we take the coastal route? Or for insisting that we stay for two months? Or for insisting that your sister is a genuinely lovely human being?”

“It’s not a punishment for anything,” Zoro says, glancing sideways at where Sanji is riding next to him. “Though if it were, it would definitely be for that last one.”

“Typical,” Sanji snorts. “You’re lucky Perona didn’t strangle you at birth.”

“I’m sure she considered it. But regardless,” Zoro says, “we’re going this far off the path for a reason. The witch says there’s an eatery out this way with an excellent reputation, and she thinks you’ll like it.”

“Nami’s so thoughtful that way,” Sanji sighs. “And I suppose it would be rude to turn up our noses at her hard work.”

In actuality, Zoro frequently turns up his nose at Nami’s hard work on principle, but since in this instance her acts had been entirely at his own request, he supposes he can leave well enough alone.

“It’s not that much further,” he says instead, his tone placating. “And a few of the guards already went ahead and told them to expect us.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” Sanji says, his voice sliding back to its previously annoyed register. “That’s another thing I don’t understand,” he continues on. “Why, exactly is it just the two of us going on this little venture? Surely the rest of the people travelling with us would appreciate a respite.”

“I don’t think it’s that big,” Zoro lies, in reality having no idea how large the establishment is. “And it’d hardly be fair to feed half our people as opposed to all of them, now, would it?”

“Well, no,” Sanji says dubiously, “but that doesn’t mean - ”

“Looks like we’re here.” Zoro says, relieved to be able to cut him off from his ongoing interrogation. “Let’s get the horses taken care of and see what they have for us.”

“Oh alright,” Sanji grumbles, already moving to dismount. “Bizarre as this whole thing is, they’ve probably already prepared our food, and you know how I feel about wasting that sort of thing.”

“Given how much you talk about it, it’d be hard not to,” Zoro replies. “Come on, though. I’m hungry.”

“Of course you are,” Sanji drawls. “Because you made us go almost an hour off our planned route.”

Zoro ignores him and heads towards the building up ahead, which on closer inspection is actually a ship that’s tied up at a nearby wharf. It appears to have some kind of nautical theme based on what he can see if the decor, and he finds his eye drawn to the large fish resting out front as a figurehead.

“Interesting choice,” Sanji comments as Zoro pushes a door open and steps inside. “Marimo, where are all of the other guests?”

Zoro shrugs, fully prepared to get yelled at in his quest for privacy, and a man with a shaved head and an expression of manic helpfulness pops up behind a counter.

“You must be the visiting royals from Shimotsuki,” he says in a rush, bowing so low that his face is in danger of colliding with the floor. “We’ve blocked off the entire restaurant just as you’ve requested.”

“Excuse me?” Sanji demands, his voice going irritatingly shrill at this.

“I’m paying for it,” Zoro says immediately. “The establishment isn’t losing any money.”

“I see,” Sanji says. “So this is all your doing, I take it?”

“Am I not allowed to treat my husband to a private meal?” Zoro asks in return. “Especially after more than three weeks on the road?”

Sanji’s expression softens minutely. “I suppose that’s rather sweet of you.” He says, although he still looks mildly exasperated.

“You’re too kind,” Zoro says sarcastically, possibly too sarcastically if the way the staff person cringes.

“Perhaps I could bring you to your table?” He squeaks, looking just about ready to vibrate out of his skin.

“Please do,” Sanji agrees.

They’re led to a nicely decorated space near one of the windows. Zoro makes a point of sitting with his back to same, which in turn forces Sanji to sit with his own back facing the kitchen. Once that’s done, the nervous man tells them their food will be ready shortly and then disappears from sight.

“He seemed a bit agitated,” Zoro comments.

“He’s serving a pair of foreign royals, one of whom is the son of his country’s king,” Sanji says dryly. “That’s the kind of thing that keeps most men up at night, you know.”

“That’s stupid,” Zoro replies, but Sanji merely shrugs, unconcerned.

They chat idly while they wait for their food, mainly about Kuraigana and what to expect when they arrive at the castle because that’s only a few days away now. Sanji’s been getting increasingly nervous the closer they get, no matter how much Zoro tells him he has nothing to worry about.

A different cook brings their meals out, this one a brown haired man wearing strange smokey eyeglasses. He sets both dishes down in front of them, and then returns a second time with goblets and a bottle of wine.

“If I may, Your - uh - Majesties?” He asks, squeaking only slightly less than the last man had.

“I don’t suppose you have any ale, do you?” Sanji asks, nodding at Zoro. “I’d very much like the wine, but it’s not usually this barbarian’s preference.”

The man does everything short of saluting, and as promised returns with a large tankard of ale within moments. Setting it down near Zoro’s arm, he drops - of all things - a curtsy, and then stands back to watch them take their first bites.

“Is it - is it to your liking?”

Zoro nods, enjoying the taste of perfectly seasoned meat on his tongue. Across from him, Sanji nods as well, but his brow is oddly furrowed. As Zoro watches, he takes another bite and his expression becomes more intense.

“Something wrong?” He asks, a question that appears to make the brown haired man have some kind of fit.

“No,” Sanji says. Then he takes a third bite, chewing even slower. “I could swear I’ve tasted this sauce before, though.” He notes, turning to the staff person. “Do you happen to know the recipe?”

“Um, it belongs to the owner,” the man says awkwardly. “I could try to get him to come out, if you’d like to speak to him about it?”

“Yes.” Zoro says before Sanji can suggest otherwise.

The man disappears without further comment, and Sanji frowns. “That wasn’t really necessary,” he says. “I don’t want to distract the head cook when he’s trying to work.”

“As you’ve already pointed out, we’re the only ones in here,” Zoro reminds him. “I highly doubt coming by to talk to you for a few minutes will put him out that much.”

“You don’t know that,” Sanji says.

It’s on the tip of Zoro’s tongue to respond, but he decides against it when the door to the kitchen opens and a large blond man with the most impressive moustache he’s ever seen comes through. He walks towards them with an annoyed expression and an uneven gait.

A hollow thumping sound rings out at the same time, and a quick glance down tells Zoro that this is because the cook has a wooden peg where his right foot should be and it’s smacking against the floor with each step he takes.

He shifts his gaze to Sanji, and realizes that the other man has gone pale. His visible blue eye is likewise blown wide, not unlike someone who’s just encountered a ghost, but he makes no move to do anything further.

The old cook opens his mouth, the look on his face making it clear that he’s annoyed about something, and their royal status isn’t going to stop him from expounding upon it at length. “For the record,” he begins, his voice as gruff as they come, “I already don’t appreciate the fact that you two have seen fit to monopolize my entire establishment, but I’m even less impressed that you’ve felt the need to - ”

Sanji stands abruptly and whirls around, moving so fast that his chair falls backwards and hits the ground behind him before anyone can think to grab it.

The old cook stares. “ … Eggplant?”

Sanji bursts into tears.

“Hey, hey, there’s no need for that.” Moving with a speed that belongs to someone half his age, Red Leg Zeff navigates around the fallen chair and cups Sanji’s face in his large hands, gaping at him like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “My god, it’s really you, isn’t it?”

“I - I ” Sanji tries, but he’s too wracked with sobs to get out anything coherent.

“Alright, none of that now,” his father says, his voice still gruff, yet also choked with emotion. “Just you come here then.”

Sanji doesn’t need to be told twice. With this permission granted, he throws himself at the older man, flinging his arms around his neck and burying his face in his shoulder.

To his credit, Zeff grabs him back just as tightly, and doesn’t appear to intend to let go anytime soon. Powerful arms that have in no way diminished with age wind their way around the prince’s back, dragging him into a fierce embrace that Zoro’s not sure it’s his place to witness.

“I thought you might be dead,” Sanji whimpers. “Or at least that you were somewhere where I was never going to see you again.”

“Tch!” Zeff sniffs. “That bastard Judge may have succeeded in running me out of Germa, but I’ll be damned if I was going to the grave without knowing whether or not you were safe.”

“Are you?” He adds then, pulling back so that he can place both his hands on Sanji’s shoulders and peer into his eyes. “Safe, I mean. If this one has you with him under duress, so help me god I’ll kick his head in - king or no king.”

“Ki - ?” Sanji freezes. Then he jerks around - albeit still not out of Zeff’s hold - and points an accusing finger at Zoro. “You knew! You beast of a man, you knew about this, and you dragged me all the way out here without so much as a single, solitary warning.”

“I hoped.” Zoro corrects. “I didn’t know for certain. If I had, I might have told you in advance, but I didn’t want to get your hopes up in case I was wrong, and I only found out there was a chance he might be here right before we left for Kuraigana anyway.”

Sanji gives him a look that says he’s highly skeptical of this, but then shakes his head. “When did you start looking?” He wants to know.

“When do you think?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking,” Sanji retorts. “When, Marimo?”

Zoro sighs. “The same night you told me about him, obviously.”

Fresh tears well in Sanji’s eyes, and he covers his mouth with a trembling hand for a moment. “Bastard,” he chokes out. “You absolute bastard. One of these days you’re going to run out of things to lavish me with, and then where will you be?”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it,” Zoro says with a shrug. “But for now, I think I should leave you two alone to catch up. Take all the time you want, I’m in no hurry.”

“He means it,” Sanji says when Zeff raises an eyebrow. “I know he looks like a brute, and in a lot of ways he is one, but I couldn’t have done better than him if I’d tried.”

Zeff looks at Zoro then, really looks at him. His scrutinizing gaze eyes him from top to bottom, his moustache bristling as he comes to some sort of internal conclusion.

“Hmmph.” He says finally. “I suppose I’ll have to take your word for it.”

“We’ll be talking later, you and I.” He says next for Zoro’s benefit. “I don’t give a flying fuck what titles you have or what armies you lead. None of that foolishness has any bearing on whether or not you’re good enough for my son.”

Sanji’s face goes pink at these words, and Zoro allows himself a small chuckle as he slides his chair back and climbs to his feet. “I never assumed it did,” he says simply. “But I meant what I said about leaving you two be for now. If anyone needs me, I’ll be waiting outside.”

And with that, he offers up a form of respect he’s never even considered showing Vinsmoke Judge, and bows low to the older man.

*****
“Well, he’s certainly quite taken with you, I’ll give you that much.”

Having heard the other man approach while he was mostly still asleep, Zoro opens his good eye and blinks up at where Zeff is currently towering over him. Cracking his neck from side to side, he then pushes away from the tree he’s been napping under and gets to his feet.

“No more than I am with him,” he says somewhat belatedly.

“Better not be,” Zeff replies. “As far as I’m concerned, that boy deserves someone who worships the ground he walks on. You think you can do that?”

Zoro considers this. “The cook doesn’t need or want that,” he decides finally. “He wants someone who’s going to treat him as an equal.”

Zeff holds his gaze for several long moments after this, until his mouth curves up in a small smile. “You’re not entirely stupid then,” he says approvingly. “I can work with that.”

Zoro’s not sure what that means, but it sounds at least vaguely good, so he’s prepared to run with it. He glances around the area they’re standing in, noticing they’re the only two people out here. “Where is he?”

“Inside, poking his nose into every nook and cranny that the Baratie has to offer,” Zeff replies, jerking his thumb in the direction of his restaurant. “I hope you know he seems convinced you’re going to provide me with any upgrade I could possibly want where the old place is concerned.”

“Historically, he tends to get what he wants when I’m involved,” Zoro replies. “If you ever feel inclined to visit Shimotsuki, we know any number of people who’ll be thrilled to tell you all about it.”

“If?” Zeff echoes. “Don’t be daft, boy. That’s my son you’ve got there, and from what I understand the castle in your capital butts up right near the coastline. I’ll be moving my ship down your way in short order, and I intend to stay.”

“You got a problem with that?” He asks, his tone all but daring Zoro to tell him no.

However, all Zoro does is snort. “Did you not hear the part about getting what he wants?” He asks with an errant wave of his hand. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

“Hmm,” Zeff says. “Not entirely stupid at all.”

“He’s told me a lot of what you’ve done for him,” he says then, switching topics abruptly. “He might be exaggerating some of it, but if even half of what came out of his mouth is true, I can only conclude that you’re one of the most utterly besotted men I’ve ever encountered.”

Zoro shrugs.

“ … right.” Zeff says once it becomes clear he’s got nothing further to add. “I’ll take that as a yes then.”

“If you’re asking if I love him, the answer’s yes,” Zoro says flatly. “However, if you’re asking me to try and impress you, don’t hold your breath. I didn’t come here looking for your blessing, I came because I knew finding you would make Sanji happy.”

“And that’s important to you, is it?”

“Yes,” Zoro says simply.

“Then on that point we agree,” Zeff says after a moment’s consideration. “Truth be told, you got him out of Germa, and that alone has me willing to give you a chance. If even some of the rest of it is true, I might just be inclined to give you that blessing if you ask.”

“I won’t,” Zoro replies. “He’s not a prize to be won, and he wouldn’t appreciate it if I tried. Having said that,” he adds slowly, “if I were going to ask someone, it’d be you, never Judge. As far as he’s concerned, you’re the only father he’s ever had.”

“Aye, there’s no need to be blood to be family,” the older man agrees. “Just you keep treating him right and I may yet approve of you after all.”

*****
The castle where Zoro had spent his childhood is largely unchanged, as is the man who calls it home. Mihawk greets them in his own throne room, seated with one leg hooked over the other in the ornate, cross-shaped chair that Zoro’s expended considerable energy on making fun of over the years.

One jet black eyebrow rises in acknowledgement of their presence. “Zoro. You’re looking well.”

Zoro says nothing to this, figuring the comment speaks for itself. Apparently taking this as his cue to move on, Mihawk shifts his gaze to the man standing beside him.

“And this must be Sanji,” he says, his golden eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly. “But not Vinsmoke Sanji, I’m told.”

Sanji, who’s dropped into a low bow that he’s only starting to straighten out of, winces. “That’s right, Your Grace,” he mumbles. “Just Sanji.”

“Hmm.” Mihawk drums the pale fingers of his right hand against his throne, a rare sign of animation from him. “I have it on good authority, namely my daughter’s, that you two are in love. Can you confirm this?”

The sound Zoro’s hand makes when it collides with his forehead echoes throughout the room. “Fucking, Perona,” he growls, wondering where the hell she’s squirrelled herself off to in order to avoid this little show. “I’m going to cut up all her ridiculous stuffed bears again.”

Mihawk opens his mouth on what’s most likely a tired reprimand, but Sanji beats him to the punch.

“You leave your poor sister alone,” the prince scolds, having the audacity to wag a finger under Zoro’s nose. “I’ve told you a hundred times that you have no excuse for being such a brute to her.”

“And I’ve told you a hundred times that I can’t believe you’d say that having met the woman,” Zoro retorts with equal fervour. “She’s clearly playing you.”

“Ooooh, Marimo, I swear - ”

A soft chuckle stops them both in their tracks before things can escalate, and as one they both turn to look at Mihawk. “So,” he says, his mouth curving up in a rare - not to mention small - smile. “It’s love, indeed, then. How marvellous. Zoro, do come here and introduce me properly.”

And Zoro does the only thing he can think of under the circumstances, he offers Sanji his arm, and smiles when the other man takes it.