Archive of Our Own

“God fucking damnit, I think you cracked a rib.”

Pressing tenderly at the spot on his side where the worst of the ache is located, Zoro hisses through his teeth when the pain he’s feeling intensifies. Cracked, probably, and maybe even outright broken.

Letting his hand fall onto his lap, he adjusts his sitting position slightly and stares balefully over the campfire at his companion. “Your fucking king owes me extra for not warning me that you kick like a goddmaned mule.”

Lips pull back in a snarl and white teeth gleam in the firelight. “He’s not my fucking king, he’s not my fucking anything,” the other man spits. “He’s a vile, murderous jackass, and he and anyone associated with him can go to hell.”

His point made, Zoro’s companion wriggles in place, trying fruitlessly to kick out with his bound legs - bound by necessity because he’s apparently deadly with them. If he hadn’t dodged in time, Zoro suspects his entire ribcage would have shattered under the force of the intended blow.

Biting back a sigh, Zoro tries to find a more comfortable way to slouch, one that doesn’t put unnecessary pressure on his aching side. Sleeping tonight is going to be a bitch, he can tell, and the same again goes for riding tomorrow. He’s lucky he heals as fast as he does.

“Look,” he says finally, pretty sure that his prisoner has started muttering dire threats under his breath. “It’s honestly nothing personal. I just needed a way to get back to my friends, and this was the only option I was given.”

“Oh that’s nice,” the fringe of blond hair briefly lifts off the man’s face with the force of his retort, momentarily revealing his second icy blue eye and strangely curled eyebrow. “You want to go home, so my life is forfeit. Sure, that sounds like a fair trade.”

Zoro does sigh this time, and then immediately regrets it when doing so pulls at his ribs. “You’re a wanted man,” he points out reasonably, or at least as reasonably as he can under the circumstances. “I don’t know why you’re surprised that the king hired a professional to bring you in.”

The other man snorts. “Please,” he says tersely, “you look like you crawled out of the ass end of a dumpster. There’s not a damn thing about you that’s professional.”

Without thinking about it, Zoro shrugs and then wishes he hadn’t. “I actually used to be a full time bounty hunter, and I was damn good at it too,” he says through gritted teeth. “I’ve been out of the game for a bit, but unexpected circumstances have caused me to go back to my roots for the time being.”

“Really?” The other man says dryly, “A plant metaphor? If I had hair like the mop growing on your head, I might be inclined to steer clear of those.”

“But alright then,” he adds before Zoro has a chance to respond to this. “Since I don’t appear to be going anywhere at the moment, I’ll bite. You say you were a bounty hunter, fine. Are you someone I’d recognize?”

Bringing one hand up, Zoro scratches absently at his chin. “Dunno,” he says slowly. “The name’s Roronoa Zoro, though. If that means anything to you.”

Sudden silence descends over their campsite, with the only sound being that of a log shifting in the makeshift fire pit. Even the nocturnal creatures inhabiting the surrounding wooded areas don’t seem to have anything to say.

Finally, however, Zoro’s captive finds his voice again. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he groans, sounding pained. “He sent the fucking Demon of the East after me? How did he even meet you?”

“That,” honestly forces Zoro to admit, “is kind of a long story.”

*****
Three Weeks Earlier

“So,” the man behind the - frankly overly ostentatious - raised desk stares down at Zoro from his superior vantage point. His gauntleted hands flex over the arms of his seat, and he looks like he hasn’t made up his mind on whether to be pleased or annoyed by Zoro’s presence. “You’re Roronoa Zoro, are you?”

He says the word like he’s expecting Zoro to bow down to him, but if that’s the case he’s about to be sadly mistaken. In his entire life Zoro’s only ever been impressed enough by one man to give him any kind of allegiance, and this so-called king certainly isn’t Luffy.

Resting his hand over the curve of his swords - not in a way that’s blatantly threatening, but still in one that will allow him to draw Wado with speed - Zoro gives the king a flat look. “I was the last time I checked,” he says, and half expects to be thrown in the stockade for his insolence.

Vinsmoke Judge surprises him, however. Rather than look angry, the King of Germa leans back in his seat with a speculative gleam in his eye. Truthfully, it’s not an expression that Zoro thinks looks good on his face, and he very pointedly doesn’t move his hand away from his swords.

“You’re younger than I thought you’d be,” Judge says eventually. “I’d have expected someone with your reputation to be further on in years.”

“Age is just a number,” Zoro says dismissively. “My captain is even younger than I am.”

“Your - ? Ah, yes,” Judge scratches his chin thoughtfully for a moment before letting his hand fall back down. “I suppose his most loyal and longstanding retainer wouldn’t call Monkey D. Luffy a warlord to his face, now would he?”

Truth be told, Zoro wouldn’t ever call Luffy a warlord at all. It wasn’t the younger man’s fault that his exploits had garnered the reputation they had, but now didn’t seem like the time to be providing clarification. If what he’s heard about Judge is anything to go by, he’ll have a better chance of getting out of Germa alive if the man thinks the Strawhats truly are as vicious and bloodthirsty as the rumors say.

“Regardless,” Judge says now. “Welcome to Germa, Roronoa. You honor us with your presence.”

“ … thanks,” Zoro says, and in a show of good faith he pulls his hand back a few millimeters from Wado’s hilt. “It’s a … beautiful place.”

Judge smiles. This is not an action that improves his countenance. “It is,” he agrees, “but Germa’s beauty is far surpassed by her military might. We’re the strongest and most advanced country on the northern continent.”

“ … right,” Zoro says, now actively fighting to keep the disdain from showing in his voice. “I’ve heard as much.”

“Of course you have,” Judge replies, inclining his head. “Our reputation is on par with your captain’s own. Albeit for different reasons, I’m sure. Now then, what is it that brings you to Germa?”

“Uh, actually,” and here’s the part where Zoro has to hope that the absurdity of his situation isn’t mistaken for weakness, “you’ll have to forgive me, but I never actually intended to come here at all. I was involved in an … incident that saw me need to take passage on a ship bound for here. The captain didn’t have a way to drop me off anywhere else beforehand, so here I am.”

Judge stares at him for a long moment, and Zoro tries very hard not to let the words ‘got turned around during a battle and wound up unconscious on the wrong ship’ show anywhere on his face. There’s already going to be no hearing the end of this when he finally makes it back to his friends.

“ … I see,” Judge says in the end. “Well, nevertheless we are delighted to have someone of your rank and status in our presence. How may we be of service?”

This interaction is going surprisingly well. Frankly too well if the way the merchant captain had very pointedly not spoken about the Germa king was anything to go by. There’s a catch here somewhere, and it’s coming soon.

On the other hand, the only way out is probably through. Squaring his shoulders, Zoro meets the king’s gaze with his own and opens his mouth to speak. “I need to get back to my crew,” he says simply. “I was hoping you might be able to help me out with that. I can’t pay you now, I don’t have that much on me, but I can make arrangements once I get back to where I belong.”

Arrangements that’ll most likely see him in debt with Nami for the rest of his life, of course, but arrangements all the same.

Over in his seat, Judge’s gaze sharpens. “It’s not that I doubt you,” he says in a tone that suggests the exact opposite, “but that sounds like a lot of work for very little gain for me. Plus, I’m already wealthy enough as it is. I don’t have any need of your gold.”

Zoro doesn’t quite manage to hold back a snort. “And yet, I’m guessing you’re not about to offer me a free ride home either,” he surmises. “Fine, what is it you’re after?”

Judge blinks at him for a moment, nonplussed, but then the corners of his mouth curve up in a smirk. “You’re a blunt young bastard, I’ll give you that much. Very well, though, I can appreciate that.”

Sitting up straighter, Judge grips the arms of his chair with an intensity that Zoro doubts is warranted. “As I understand it, you used to be a bounty hunter before you found your current employment. I’m told you were one of the best.”

“Then you were told wrong,” Zoro informs him, shrugging when the man raises an inquiring eyebrow. “I wasn’t there one of the best,” he clarifies. “I was the best.”

A flicker of irritation flashes across Judge’s face, but vanishes just as quickly. “Even better,” he announces. “As I happen to have need of such a service.”

Wonderful. Trying not to let any exasperation show, Zoro notes that the catch appears to have arrived. “I’m going to assume this means there’s someone you need brought in?”

“There is,” Judge confirms. “A certain individual has been giving me much trouble as of late, and so far no one has had any luck in tracking him down.”

“Fine.” Figuring the price could have been much worse, Zoro rocks back on his heels with a huff. “Who am I going after, and am I bringing him back alive or dead?”

*****
“Lucky for you he said alive,” Zoro concludes. “Otherwise I’d have just stuffed your head in a sack and been done with it.”

Teeth bare and a lone blue eye flashes in the firelight. “You don’t know jack shit.”

*****
The blond man’s name is Sanji, and he is no more pleased with Zoro in the morning than he had been the night before.

“Look,” Zoro says after he’s been forced to listen to a third profanity riddled diatribe before he’s even finished his breakfast. “If you don’t knock it off, I’m going to gag you.”

“With what, this mediocre slop you call food?” The other man spits back. His upper lip is curled in a truly impressive snarl, and Zoro’s glad he’s out of kicking range even though those dangerously long legs are still bound. “I’ll just choke it down and start right back up again.”

“I was actually thinking about something more like this,” Zoro replies, gesturing at the dark bandana he has tied around his left bicep. “It won’t be perfect, but it’ll do in a pinch.”

Sanji’s lip somehow curls even further. “If you come near me with that filthy thing,” he says, his voice low and intense, “I’ll bite your fucking fingers off. We’ll see how well you’re able to wave those stupid swords around then.”

Zoro doesn’t bother hiding his eye roll. “I’ve got two hands and my teeth. I’ll manage.”

“Your te - ?” Sanji stops glaring long enough to look baffled. “What?”

In answer, Zoro points at his mouth with the strip of dried jerky he’s been gnawing on. “I use three swords at once, remember? Where do you think the third one goes?”

“It genuinely never occurred to me to ask,” Sanji sniffs. “Also, you’re clearly insane.”

“Maybe, but I’ve still got a job to do,” Zoro says. Popping the last bit of meat in his mouth, he chews, swallows, and then goes to push himself upright. Thankfully, his ribs don’t hurt nearly as much as they had before, so he barely flinches at the action. “Okay, if you’re done eating, it’s time to get moving.”

Sanji’s been sitting with his bound legs stretched out in front of him, and his food held awkwardly in his equally bound hands. The position means that he has to cant his head back significantly to look up at Zoro, but this does nothing to lessen the force of his glare.

“Over my dead body,” he says brightly.

“Unfortunately,” Zoro replies, “that’s not an option. My instructions were to bring you in alive, or else I don’t get my ride home.”

Sanji’s face takes on a thoughtful expression. “If funds are the issue, I’ll pay you what you need in exchange for letting me go.”

“Oh you will, will you now?” Zoro asks, crossing his arms over his chest and feeling vaguely amused. “Ignoring the fact that getting safe passage through Germa’s navy riddled waters is as much, if not more of a problem, with what money? You were working in the back room of the worst tavern I’ve ever seen when I found you. It wasn’t exactly the royal palace.”

“And thank god for that,” Sanji snorts. “I can’t think of a more depressing place to live than under Judge’s roof.”

“He’s the king,” Zoro points out. “The whole country is technically under his roof.”

“Trust me, I’m well aware,” Sanji says softly. For a moment, he looks truly exhausted, but it’s not long before he rallies again. “I mean it, though. Whatever he’s paying you, I’ll find a way to double it if you’ll walk away and pretend like you never found me.”

“Like I said, the money’s not really the part I’m interested in,” Zoro reminds him. “Sorry, but this is the way it has to be. Now, are you going to get up on your own, or am I going to have to make you?”

In answer, Sanji flops all the way down to the ground and bares his teeth.

“Oh for - fine,” Zoro groans. “If that’s the way it has to be, then we’ll do it your way. You should know, though, I’ve dealt with plenty of unwilling bounties before, including a few others that I needed to bring in alive, and I always won in the end.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” Sanji replies brightly. He should look ridiculous, flat on his back with his hair spread out around his head and his arms and legs tied in front of him, but what he actually looks is menacing.

Resigning himself to the fact that there’s going to be a considerable amount of irritation in his future, Zoro decides to ignore the blond for the time being, and turns towards the fringes of their campsite instead. It’s there that he’d left his horse the night before, tied carefully to an improvised post in a space large enough for it to graze.

It’s a magnificent beast, he thinks not for the first time as he looks at it. Provided by Vinsmoke Judge himself, it’s apparently a product of the royal stables, and even Zoro’s untrained eye can tell that the animal is in peak physical condition. Even better, he’s confident that it can carry two full grown men.

As if he can tell what Zoro is thinking, Sanji turns his head to follow the swordsman’s gaze. “I am not getting on that thing,” he trills in a singsong voice. “And you can’t make me.”

Rolling his good eye, Zoro glances back and forth between man and horse before ultimately shrugging. “I’m pretty sure I can figure something out,” he says, an idea already occurring to him. “You’re not going to like it though.”

“Now there’s a surprise.”

Ignoring the sarcastic quip, Zoro studies the problem from all angles for a few more seconds. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to get up voluntarily?” He asks, wanting to be certain.

“Not on your life,” Sanji replies, and shrugs.

“Fair enough,” he says. “Then it looks like we’re doing it the hard way.”

*****
Zoro resigns himself to a long and tiring day, and that’s exactly what he gets. Although he knows how to ride well enough, it’s not his preferred method of travel, and it’s even less so when he’s trying to manage a squirming, swearing bundle of rage that’s almost as strong as he is and very much does not want to be coming with him.

He makes the mistake of untying Sanji’s legs before they break camp, wanting to give the man the opportunity to take a piss on his own. Not only does he nearly get his head kicked in for his troubles, but he spends the better part of ten minutes chasing Sanji through the forest because of how freakishly fast the man is.

Even after Zoro catches up with him and knocks his feet out from under him, Sanji keeps kicking wildly and at one point manages to headbutt him in the chin. Zoro winds up having to haul his kicking and swearing burden back to the campsite, all while nursing an aching jaw that he knows is going to turn all manner of shades of purple.

Climbing up on his horse and getting Sanji to walk behind him with his bound hands on a lead then turns out to be impossible. First the man sits down in the dirt and refuses to move. Then he actively starts struggling to free his hands, leaving Zoro with no choice but to put him on the horse. He won’t stay upright, however, and once again tries to get his legs in on the action.

By the time mid-morning rolls around, Zoro gives up on playing nice. Pulling the horse to a stop, he wrestles Sanji under control so that he can lash his legs together tightly, and then tosses him over the back of the horse like an extra saddlebag.

Figuring that should finally be the end of things, Zoro’s given roughly five minutes of peace before Sanji rolls himself forcibly off of the horse. Heedless of the way hitting the ground forces the breath out of his lungs, he continues struggling to get away.

Impressed against his will, Zoro nevertheless can’t let this stand. Grabbing Sanji by the back of the shirt, he hauls him upright in order to shove him over the front of the saddle instead. He figures he can then use his own body to keep the man from squirming off a second time.

It’s clear that Sanji can tell what he’s about to do, and equally clear he’s not going down without a fight. Zoro’s just managed to get them both situated and moving again when Sanji twists and clamps his teeth around his nearest thigh, biting down with everything he has.

Zoro’s pretty sure the howl he lets out can be heard the next town over, and they’re both lucky the horse doesn’t spook. He practically has to knee Sanji in the face to shake him off, and then he jumps down to the ground where he stands there panting, wondering what the hell he should do.

Sanji watches him as he heaves in huge lungfuls of air, glaring fiercely at him through the fringe of his hair. He’s panting too, Zoro notes, but neither that nor the dirt on his face and clothes is doing anything to quench the fire burning in his lone visible eye.

This is not a man who’s going to go peacefully into the night, Zoro realizes. He’s going to make Zoro fight for every inch that brings them closer to the Germa capital. It’d honestly be impressive if it wasn’t also the sole factor between Zoro and his ticket home.

“Listen,” he says finally. His leg is throbbing where Sanji had bitten him, and it’s one of many spots on his body currently doing so. “I get that you don’t want me to bring you in, I get it, but it’s fucking happening whether you like it or not. Even if I have to tie you to the damn horse.”

In answer, Sanji snaps his teeth with enough force that Zoro can hear them clack together. The warning behind the act is obvious, and Zoro bites back a sudden urge to sigh.

“Fine,” he says tersely. “We’ll do it your way.”

He has to put Sanji back on the ground and sit on him in order to get his arms tied behind him, as opposed to in front, but he’s clearly got too much mobility thanks to the current arrangement. The blond fights him the entire time too, and the only thing that stops his swearing is when Zoro finally makes good on his previous threat to tie his bandana over his mouth.

“For the record,” Zoro says as he lifts his squirming, grunting captive back onto the horse, flopping him unceremoniously onto his stomach with his head and legs dangling over either side, “the gag is only because of the biting.”

Sanji lets out a scoffing noise, and continues trying to wriggle free. Zoro’s got him well and truly bound now, though, meaning there’s not much he can do but growl ferociously around the makeshift gag.

He keeps said growling up as they set off - now well into the afternoon, damnit - and doesn’t stop for the next few hours. All told, Zoro gets maybe an hour or two of peaceful riding in before the growing evening shadows force him to stop for the night.

The horse nickers softly when he pulls her to a hault and dismounts. Giving the animal a quick pat on her flank, Zoro switches his attention to Sanji, unsurprised to find that the other man is awake and watching him through dangerously slitted eyes.

They eye each other for several long seconds, until in the end Zoro shrugs. “We need to make camp,” he says slowly, “and I’m sure you’d like to get down and rest for a while. What are the odds you’ll come quietly and not give me any trouble?”

In answer, Sanji headbutts him in the face for the second time that day.

*****
Zoro’s happy to report that he doesn’t think his nose is broken, although, even if it was, that’s happened to him enough times over the years that he’s all but given up on remembering what its original shape was. The nosebleed is a pain in the ass, though, especially since it takes forever to peter out.

“You’re a real bitch, you know that?” He says when he’s finally able to talk without having to hold his nose pinched shut to stem the blood flow. “I’ve taken in some difficult bounties before, but you just might be the worst.”

Sanji glares at him from where he’s sitting with his back propped up against a tree. Zoro had deposited him there while he dealt with getting the nosebleed under control, and the man’s mouth is working like he’d like to yell if the gag wasn’t getting in his way.

Frankly not in a mood to hear it, Zoro leaves him where he is and wanders over to the stream they’ve stopped near. Squatting down on the water’s edge, he splashes some over his face in a weak attempt to clean it up. He doubts he gets it all, but something’s better than nothing.

Sanji’s still sitting where he’d left him when he turns away from the stream, so Zoro focuses his energy on getting the horse taken care of and the camp set up. He doesn’t start a fire, not yet, but he sorts out everything else to his satisfaction.

“I’m getting low on supplies, especially now that I’ve got you around to feed,” he tells Sanji once he’s finished. “Seeing as we’ve got a ways of travelling ahead of us still, I’m going to try and bolster the ranks by hunting and foraging. I suggest you be here when I get back.”

The glint in Sanji’s eye says plain as day that he’s not making any promises. Zoro considers him for a few seconds, and then goes to root around in one of his pair of borrowed saddle bags. He’s used most of the rope he has on him to keep Sanji’s hands and feet tied, but there should be one more coil left in his pack.

His fingers probing over the depths of the bag, Zoro lets out a triumphant noise when they brush over what he’s looking for. Pulling it free with a flourish, he inspects it to see if it’s long enough for what he had in mind, nodding thoughtfully when he sees that it is.

“For the record,” he says as he carries the rope over and begins to work, “I’m not happy I have to resort to this. I’d do what I could to make you more comfortable if I could trust you to behave.”

Clearly unimpressed with the fact that he’s now tied to the tree behind him, Sanji gives him a look that could blister the paint off a wall. His mouth again seems to be working around Zoro’s bandana, and absently the swordsman wonders if he’s trying to chew through it.

“You stay here,” he says, risking yet another headbutt by giving Sanji a condescending pat on the shoulder. He dodges this time, but suspects that has as much to do with luck as it does anything else. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Sanji mutters something no doubt scathing around the impromptu gag, and starts straining against his bonds. He’s not even trying to hide his intention to escape at this point, but they really do need the extra food. Zoro’s just going to have to hope that the ropes will hold.

Luckily, that is, in fact, the case when he wanders back to the campsite a little over an hour later with a brace of rabbits thrown over his shoulder. The sun has almost set, meaning Zoro can only barely make him out, but Sanji’s exactly where he’d left him, firmly lashed to the tree.

He’s met with a disgusted huff when he slips through the brush, and fading light glints off Sanji’s hair when they blink at each other. Undeterred, Zoro holds up the rabbits so his companion can get a good look at them. “I brought dinner.”

Sanji’s sole response is a flat stare and a faint exhalation that sounds unimpressed. Unsurprised to say the least, Zoro shrugs and lowers the rabbits. He’ll have to skin them before he can cook them, but the way they’re rapidly losing light makes him think he should focus on getting a fire ready first.

His companion remains oddly quiet as he works, but Zoro doesn’t think that has anything to do with the gag. Sanji still hasn’t said anything by the time the two freshly skinned rabbits are turning on an impromptu spit over the fire, so Zoro wanders over to check on him.

“You thirsty?” He asks, reminded of the canteen that’s stored along with the rest of his gear. “You haven’t had anything since this morning.”

Sanji’s expression doesn’t need words to convey who he blames for this fact. There’s a worn out edge lurking in the depths of his gaze, however, such that Zoro isn’t surprised when he looks away but also shrugs.

“Right,” Zoro says, prepared to take this as the acquiescence he suspects it’s intended to be. “Give me a second to go nab some fresh water.”

He pauses briefly to check on the rabbits as he passes by. As expected, they’re nowhere near ready, so he continues on his way to snag the canteen and then refill it.

Sanji eyes him warily when he approaches after topping it up. He looks like he’s half expecting this to be some kind of trick, but at least he doesn’t immediately lash out when Zoro tugs the bandana out of his mouth and lets it fall to rest around the base of his throat.

“Here,” he says, bringing the canteen up and tilting it at an angle that Sanji can reach. “Be careful. Don’t try and take too much at once, or you’ll probably make yourself sick.”

“Like you care.” Sanji’s voice has worn down to a rasp over the course of the afternoon, and he sucks the water down greedily when Zoro offers it up. No doubt his throat is bone dry after the day he’s had.

“There’s plenty more where that came from if you want it,” he hears himself say, watching Sanji’s throat bob as he swallows. “And it’s fresh as far as I can tell.”

“We’re in Germa,” Sanji mutters, as if that’s supposed to mean anything. “Of course it is.”

“Right, well … ” Zoro trails off while he’s still trying to think of a decent comeback, unexpectedly distracted when he gets a better look at the corners of Sanji’s mouth. Both have been rubbed raw, no doubt from chafing against his frayed bandana all afternoon, and he feels a slight flicker of regret at the sight.

“Those look like they hurt,” he says, nodding at the discoloration. “Sorry.”

The word makes Sanji pull back in surprise. For a moment all he does is sit there, studying Zoro like he’s some kind of unique insect or plant specimen, then he snorts. “Like you actually care,” he says, and spits on the ground next to where Zoro’s kneeling.

Rolling his eye, Zoro moves to stand so he can go and get more water.

*****
The second night passes mostly the same as the first, with the only difference being that Zoro leaves Sanji tied to the tree this time. He figures the extra protection can’t hurt, not with how formidable the man is proving to be, and he wants to try and get a decent night’s sleep.

He wakes feeling as fresh as he expects he’s going to get until he’s out of Germa, and sets about breaking down the camp. He’s going to try and eat on the road this morning in an attempt to make up for some of yesterday’s delay, although he supposes he’ll still have to feed Sanji first.

And speaking of Sanji, the man is already awake, but in no way does he look like he’s slept as well as Zoro. There are dark circles under his eyes that stand out sharply against his pale skin, and his movements are stiff and sluggish when Zoro unties him enough for him to relieve himself.

He also takes the food Zoro offers him without complaint. He quietly eats the selection of dried fruits and nuts from Zoro’s pack, and then knocks back almost an entire container of water before he’s drunk his fill.

He does all this without a single insult, profanity, or attempt to cause bodily harm. Given their interactions over the past forty eight hours, Zoro can’t help but be suspicious, but he’s also willing to play nice if Sanji is.

Once the camp has been taken care of, Zoro loads up the horse as efficiently as possible. He then brings her over to where Sanji is waiting, hobbled and looking exhausted, and comes to a decision.

“If you’ll let me tie your legs down without any fuss,” he says slowly, “I’ll let you ride upright in the saddle and lead her from down on the ground. We can even pass on the gag this time since you won’t be within biting range.”

A bit of Sanji’s usual spark flares to life, and he tilts his head back against the trunk of the tree, a sarcastic smirk twisting his lips. “You mean you’ll let me ride lashed to the horse like a trussed up ham, albeit without a filthy, sweat stained rag stuffed in my mouth? Truly, your generosity knows no bounds.”

Zoro lets the words flow over him, unmoved. “Take it or leave it,” he suggests.

Sanji stares at him for a long moment, but then he sags, his shoulders slumping, and nods. “Fine,” he says, sounding as tired as he looks. “I accept your terms.”

Refusing to take any chances, Zoro is especially thorough in the act of tying the other man down. He binds each leg to the sides of the saddle, and then adds an interconnecting piece under the horse’s belly to lash his feet together. His hands get tied and then that rope twisted several times around the saddle horn. Finally, Zoro takes the horse’s reins, careful to loop them over her head and pull them as far out of Sanji’s reach as possible.

Sanji watches the entire process through slitted eyes. His mouth is likewise curved down in a frown, and it doesn’t take a genius to realize that he’s pissed off about how particular Zoro’s being. As the swordsman watches, he flexes his wrists, clearly testing to see if there’s any give in the bindings, and lets out a faint noise of disgust when there isn’t any.

“I don’t know where the hell Judge found you,” he growls, surprising Zoro by speaking without first being spoken to, “but I rue whatever act of fate it was that brought you two together.”

“Oddly enough, on that point we agree,” Zoro says, clicking his tongue to get the horse moving. “Believe me when I say I don’t want to be in this dump of a country anymore than you do.”

“So that’s why you’re doing this, then?” Sanji asks. Apparently he’s in a mood to talk this morning, and for once he’s managing to string more than five words together without including at least as many profanities and some commentary on Zoro’s parentage. “So that Judge will let you go?”

“Something like that,” Zoro says as he navigates carefully around a stump that has several large roots growing around it. They’re currently so deep in the woods that there’s no real trail to speak of, and it’ll take them another day or two yet to pick it up again. “I just want to go home.”

“And you’ll stop at nothing to get what you want, right?” Sanji asks bitterly. “Nevermind what I want, you have no problem trading in a stranger who’s never done anything to you if it means putting yourself first.”

Zoro’s gut churns unpleasantly at these words, and he tells it to cut that shit out immediately. He doesn’t owe Sanji anything, for all intents and purposes, he’s just another bounty. And besides, he must have done something to earn the king’s ire.

Suddenly curious, he glances over his shoulder at where the other man is sitting slumped in the saddle. “Is this the part where you try and tell me that you’re innocent and I’ve got the wrong guy?”

Sanji laughs, the sound lacking any and all indication of humor. “Oh you’ve got the right guy, all right,” he says, his gaze fixed on where his hands are folded in front of him. “The single blemish on Judge’s otherwise perfect rule.”

Zoro blinks, taken aback. “So, you admit you committed whatever crimes you’re accused of?” He wonders.

Sanji does look up at that, but his face is carefully blank. There’s no sign of his usual fiery temper and burning rage. “You mean he didn’t tell you why he has you bringing me in?”

Zoro responds to his blank look with a flat one of his own. “The people in charge of issuing bounties rarely discuss much of the details with those tasked with hunting them down. All I know is you’re a wanted criminal and Vinsmoke Judge has been chasing you for a while. Anything more than that isn’t really my business.”

For a beat the only sounds around them are the horse’s steady trot and some birdsong in the distance. Then Sanji snorts harshly. “So you just blindly follow orders then? No wonder Judge gave the job to you, that’s his favorite kind of subordinate.”

“Hey,” Zoro snaps, annoyed. “I don’t work for Judge. This thing, this job I’m doing right now? It’s an act of equivalent exchange so that I can get back to the person I actually owe my loyalty to.”

“So I’m a means to an end and damn the consequences?” Sanji demands, sparks of his usual temper flaring to life. “That’s a fine justification. I’m sure that warmonger you call a captain will be impressed when you finally manage to come crawling back.”

The hand not holding the horse’s reins goes instinctively to Wado’s hilt, and he’s slid her several inches out of her scabbard before he even realizes what he’s doing. “You do not,” he hisses, “get to talk about Luffy that way. You don’t know anything about him.”

“I know enough,” Sanji spits, “and this interaction is only serving to provide proof that all the rumors about him are true. If he’s keeping a rabid dog like you as his right hand, then I’m sure he’s a monster.”

The growl that works its way out of Zoro’s throat is loud enough that it momentarily silences the birds in the nearby trees. “You shut your fucking mouth,” he says, pointing furiously at Sanji. “Or I’ll shut it for you.”

Sanji gives him an unimpressed look. “Permanently, or with the gag again?” He asks. “Because, I’ve got to be honest with you, after yesterday, I think I’d prefer the former.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Zoro snaps. Turning back around he realizes belatedly that they’ve come to a stop without him noticing. Nudging the horse onwards again, he refuses to look at Sanji and walks forward in silence.

*****
Several hours later they’re forced to call it quits for another day. Zoro takes some time to scout out a suitable campsite, and then gets the horse tied up so that he can deal with Sanji. If he drops the man into the dirt with a little more force than necessary, well, that’s between him and nobody else.

“Ohh, someone’s cranky.” Sanji drawls. “What’s the matter, Mosshead? Don’t tell me you’re still mad that I said mean things about your precious captain earlier, are you? I’d have expected you to have a thicker skin than this. To match your thick skull, you see.”

Having officially had enough, Zoro reaches down to grab Sanji by the front of his filthy shirt. Hauling him up effortlessly, he lets the man dangle from his grasp one handed as he brings their faces dangerously close together.

“If you want to talk about one of us having a thick skull here, I’m thinking you might want to do yourself a favor and look in a mirror,” he growls through clenched teeth. “Judge only told me to bring you in alive, he didn’t specify anything else about what state you had to be in.”

It’s an empty threat, but Sanji doesn’t need to know that. For all his myriad character flaws, Zoro doesn’t believe in inflicting excess pain just for the sake of it. He’ll do what’s necessary to get the job done, but there’s no honor in torture.

On the other hand, Sanji’s been pressing on his last nerve for days now, and if Zoro can put a little fear of god into him - such that he might actually shut up for a while - then it’s a ruse he’s willing to fake.

It’s also a ruse that seems to be working. Sanji meets his gaze dead on - an admirable move that only a handful of people would probably dare to do - but Zoro can feel a faint tremor through his grip, and the other man licks his lips a few times yet doesn’t dare to say anything.

“Better,” Zoro says, setting him down again. “Now, you can go find a bush or something to take a piss, but I’m afraid you’re spending another night tied to a tree since you can’t be fucking trusted.”

“You’re kidnapping me and dragging me to my doom,” Sanji spits back. “I don’t see why I should be on my best behavior under the circumstances.”

“Bathroom, now,” Zoro says, pointing at a likely looking spot. “It’s either that or I tie you up for the night and you can deal with the consequences.”

“Bastard,” Sanji says, but he nevertheless rolls onto his front and then up onto his knees. Standing proves to be a bit of an issue for him, no doubt he’s stiff from an entire day stuck in the same position in the saddle, but eventually he manages to stagger far enough away to give himself some semblance of privacy.

For his part Zoro keeps one ear open as he busies himself with untacking the horse and clearing space for a fire pit. He’s almost finished lining it with rocks when Sanji comes stumbling back, and he rises up out of his crouch to deal with this first.

“Get over there,” he says, pointing at the tree he’s deemed to be the most suitable for his intended use. “And if you even think about kicking me while I’m tying you down, I’ll break your damn ankle.”

Sanji’s eyes flash, but he follows the direction without complaint. Sitting down where he’s told, he rests his back against the base of the trunk and his bound hands in his lap, shifting minutely in what’s likely to be a vain attempt to get comfortable.

Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Zoro wastes no time in looping a spare piece of rope around the blond’s chest and the tree, effectively securing him to it. He then glances down at those long, deadly legs, contemplating how much further he needs to take this.

“Fuck it,” he says in the end, standing with the last length of rope still cradled in his hands. “There’s no need of tying your feet together when you’re like this, and your circulation could probably use the help after the way you had to ride.”

Moving to turn away, he notices that Sanji’s staring at him like he’s grown a second head. “What now?” He asks tiredly. “Have I got something in my face?”

Sanji’s expression immediately morphs into a scowl and he jerks his head away. “No,” he grunts, all of his attention seemingly focused on a clump of flowers that are growing at the base of another tree. “It’s terrible, of course, but no more than usual.”

“Whatever,” Zoro says, refusing to rise to the bait this time. “I’m going to finish getting the camp set up, and then I’ll get started on supper. There’s still some leftover rabbit meat, and it should be enough for both of us.”

“If it’s not, you can substitute it with some of that.”

Thrown by the unexpected response, Zoro looks back over at Sanji, who in turn is now looking at a copse of plants located past the flowers. “That’s stinging nettle,” he says, nodding at it. “If you’ve got a big enough pot you can boil it to eat with the rabbit. Not only will it help us fill up, but it’ll add some flavour along with the meat too.”

Zoro stares at him in silence, long enough that he finally deigns to look over. “What?” He asks, his curled eyebrow rising. “Just because our options are limited doesn’t mean we can’t try and make what’s on hand taste halfway decent.”

The snort Zoro lets out is rife with derision. “If you think I’m going to take you at your word and shove some random plant in my mouth, you’ve got another thing coming. It’s probably poison.”

Sanji’s entire face darkens, and his hands clench into fists despite their awkward position. “I would never,” he spits, “even consider doing something like that. Food is sacred, and poison isn’t something I would do to my worst enemy. Nevermind you, I wouldn’t even do it to Judge.”

Taken aback by the fervor in his voice, Zoro nevertheless makes no move to reach for the plants. Upon seeing this, Sanji’s scowl deepens, and his lips pull back off his teeth in a snarl. “For the love of - if you don’t believe me, you can feed it to me first, alright? Or, hell, you can feed it to me alone if you’re too much of a chickenshit to add a vegetable to your diet. At least one of us should get a chance at a decent meal.”

Matching his scowl with one of his own, Zoro crosses his arms over his chest and huffs. “Fine,” he grunts, unable to believe he’s even having this conversation. “If it’s that damn important to you, I’ll add it to the mix. Are you happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” Sanji drawls. “But don’t you dare over boil it, or else I’ll kick your ass.”

Throwing his hands up in the air, Zoro goes to find a pot and some water.

*****
Somewhat against his will, Zoro boils the stinging nettle with the help of Sanji’s explicit instructions. He’d have been content to just leave the stuff in the pot until the water started bubbling, but Sanji calls out orders from his spot by the tree, his tone suggesting that ignoring him won’t end well for anybody, regardless of his incarcerated state.

Figuring it’s easier than having the yelling start up again, Zoro begrudgingly does as he’s told, not only with the nettle, but also with the remains of the rabbit meat. The fact that the end result tastes a fair bit better than the previous evening’s meal had is likewise not lost on him.

“Are you some kind of cook or something?” He finds himself asking after he’s cleaned his plate. Sanji’s long done already, but only because Zoro had waited a bit to make sure he really would eat the nettle.

“Or something,” the other man mutters, twisting to wipe his face with the sleeve of his shirt. The move comes with mixed results since his clothes are as filthy as the rest of him, but he seems content with the effects.

“S’that supposed to mean?” Zoro asks as he continues gnawing on the piece of meat in his hands.

Sanji shoots him a dirty look from his spot by the tree. “It means that I don’t want to answer your questions and I have no intention of doing so,” he says snidely. “This might be hard for you to grasp given your evident lack of an appropriate brain cell count, but you’re not exactly my favorite person.”

“The feeling’s mutual, Curls,” Zoro says, feeling a little thrill shoot up his spine at the absolutely poisonous glare Sanji shoots his way thanks to the nickname. “But it’s just the two of us here, and we’ve got a lot of time to kill.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll pass on bonding with my captor if it’s all the same to you,” Sanji retorts. “Unless the next words out of your mouth are that you’ve changed your mind and have decided to let me go, you can keep them to yourself.”

“Fair enough,” Zoro says. “But, hey, thanks for the tip about that shrub or whatever. You were right, it didn’t taste half bad.”

“Stop. Talking.” Sanji says through clenched teeth. “Or I will find a way to kick your moronic head in before the night is out.”

“I doubt it,” Zoro replies cheerfully. Between the full belly and the verbal sparring, he’s finding himself in a much better mood than he’d normally be in after a hard day’s slog through a wild forest. “Unless you can stretch your legs like some kind of superpower or something, I don’t see you being able to reach all the way over here.”

Sanji blinks at him, taken aback. Then he tilts his head to the side, peering at Zoro quizzically. “Did you hit your head at some point when I wasn’t looking?” He asks. “You’re acting weird.”

“Not weird, just tired,” Zoro assures him. “It’s been a long day, a long few weeks if I’m being honest, and I’m appreciating being able to get a decent meal in my stomach for once. I’ve definitely eaten worse while out on the road.”

“Of course you have,” Sanji replies. “You and practically everyone else who’s ever spent time sleeping in the elements. So few people actually bother to learn about local flora and fauna, and how they can use it to their own benefit, it’s ridiculous.”

Sensing that he’s struck a nerve, albeit an unexpected one, Zoro refuses to rise to the bait this time. He’s tired and for now he’d like to lay back and relax with a full stomach. The only thing that would make the situation better would be if they had some booze. “I could use a drink.”

“And by that I’m guessing you mean alcohol since there’s plenty of water to go around?” Sanji asks, rolling his eyes when Zoro nods. “Well that I can’t help you with. Beer doesn’t exactly grow on trees.”

“And more’s the pity,” Zoro says, reclining back against a tree of his own. He tucks his arms behind his head while he’s at it, using them as a makeshift pillow. “We’re bound to pass a town or two on our way back to the capital. Maybe I’ll grab something then.”

“Seriously?” Zoro cracks his eye open to find Sanji staring at him incredulously from the other side of the fire. “Your priorities are honestly astonishing.”

“Ehh,” Zoro drawls. “Maybe instead of judging me, you should focus on the ways you could use that kind of stop to your advantage. Maybe you could wrestle a bottle away from me and club me over the head with it. Or, maybe I’ll drop one and you could cut yourself loose with the shards.”

“While also cutting your throat with it at the same time?” Sanji suggests, looking at Zoro like he thinks he’s lost his mind.

“Yeah, now you’re getting it,” Zoro agrees. “Or, I dunno, maybe I’ll get so drunk that I pass out. Then you could free yourself, do anything you wanted to me, and take off into the night with no one being the wiser.”

“And how likely is that to happen?” Sanji asks thoughtfully, making Zoro snicker.

“Right around less than zero,” the swordsman admits, chuckling to himself. “My tolerance is second to none. I couldn’t tell you the last time I came across enough alcohol to get me even more than tipsy.”

“Wonderful. I’ve been kidnapped by an alcoholic with a sword fetish.”

“We all have our vices,” Zoro replies with an easy shrug. “I imagine you have plenty, what with you being a wanted criminal and all.”

Sanji’s face does something complicated before turning unreadable again. “My biggest vice is smoking,” he says almost wistfully. “Which, fuck you for bringing that up. The worst of the cravings had finally stopped, and now I’m going to start thinking about them again.”

He sounds so put out by the situation that Zoro almost feels sorry for him. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have anything to smoke on hand, and isn’t sure it’d be a good idea to hand them over even if he wanted to. God knows what new avenues of escape Sanji would contemplate if you put flammable materials in his grasp.

Deciding to keep that thought to himself, Zoro leans back against his tree and wills himself to relax.

*****
“I swear, at this rate you’re going to fucking cripple me.”

Sanji’s voice, strained and irritated by turns, startles Zoro out of the semi trance he’s been walking in. The words are the first thing either of them have said for hours, and Zoro needs a moment to play them over in his head again before they make sense.

After he does, he glances over at Sanji where he’s once again seated astride the horse, lashed into the same position he’d been in yesterday. It does admittedly look uncomfortable, but given the man’s penchant for escape attempts, Zoro feels like the situation is warranted.

“You did this to yourself,” he points out. “And besides, like I keep telling you, the only stipulation was that I bring you in alive. Nobody said it’d be an issue if you had to hobble to the gallows once Judge is done with you.”

“Very funny,” Sanji mutters, grimacing as he shifts in his seat. Thanks to his bindings any adjustments he manages to make are minimal, and Zoro would almost feel sorry for him if he weren’t also nursing a fresh batch of bruises from wrestling the man into position earlier that morning. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to take a break so I could stretch my legs for a bit, hmm?”

In answer, Zoro points at his own nose and the patch of dried blood that’s been decorating his collar since Sanji had headbutted him for the umpteenth time. “What do you think?”

“Oh, come on!” Groaning in frustration, Sanji’s fingers flex like he’d like to wrap them around something - such as Zoro’s throat for instance. “You’re obviously someone who fights tooth and nail when survival’s on the line. Can you honestly blame me for not going quietly into the night? I bet you’d be causing just as much of a ruckus if our positions were reversed.”

“If our positions were reversed, I wouldn’t have gotten caught,” Zoro tells him, smiling sunnily when the other man gives him a disgusted look. “You’re nowhere near as strong as I am.”

“Excuse me?!” The force of Sanji’s screech makes the horse startle, but he doesn’t seem to notice as keeps right on ranting while Zoro gets her back under control. “You hit me from behind while I was on my way home from work! I was innocently minding my own business, and you cheated. It’s also taken everything you have to keep me under control, and that’s been with me tied down like a goddamn ship’s rigging. In a fair fight, I’d kick your ass!”

The horse now back to walking sedately, Zoro holds up a couple of fingers for Sanji to see. “One) that’s pure bullshit, you may kick like a fucking donkey, but you’re still no match for me. And two) even if you were, that’s why the first rule of bounty hunting is never play fair. You use whatever you can to your advantage so that you can get the job done and get paid.”

Sanji glares at him. “I’m not a fucking job, you asshole. I’m a human being.”

Zoro sighs. “In this case, you’re both,” he allows. “I get why you’re pissed at me - you’re right, if our positions were reversed I’d be just as bad, if not more so - but you’re a means to an end here. Sorry.”

“Apology very much not accepted,” Sanji says haughtily. “And you’d better hope I don’t get out of this because, if I do, after I’m done with Judge, you’re the first person I’m coming after.”

Having heard similar sentiments before, Zoro merely shrugs. “Hey, at least in that case, you’d get a shot at that fair fight you’re after. Hell, maybe I’d even be nice and let you get the first shot in for free.”

Sanji bares his teeth in a pale approximation of a smile. He reminds Zoro of a feral dog he’d once seen chained up in a pen after the locals had corralled it to stop it hunting their livestock. “One shot,” he practically purrs, “is all I’d need.”

“If you say so,” Zoro responds dismissively. “Me, I’d still be betting on myself if it came down to a fight.”

“Of course you would,” Sanji scoffs. “Because you’re a cocky bastard who doesn’t think he can be beaten.”

“I’m not actually,” Zoro says, and tucked away under his shirt, safely out of sight, the scar that bisects his chest from left shoulder to right hip starts throbbing in time with the one over his eye. “I’ve been beaten before. You’re just not in his league.”

For a moment, Sanji almost looks intrigued. Then the moment passes, however, and he goes back to looking murderous. “I could take you,” he says firmly. “I’m used to being underestimated.”

At this, Zoro shakes his head. “I said I’d beat you, not that I’d underestimate you,” he clarifies. “You’ve done enough damage over the past four days that I’d take you seriously. Truth be told, I don’t envy your king with having to try and control you.”

“That is,” Sanji says slowly, “I think the most bizarre compliment I’ve ever been given. In fact, I think it may very well be the most bizarre compliment anyone has ever been given. At any time. Anywhere.”

Zoro shrugs. “I said what I said.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed that you tend to do that,” Sanji says dryly. “To be honest, in some ways I’m a little surprised by your attitude. Are you this rude to Monkey D. Luffy, as well? Because from what I’ve heard about him, I don’t imagine he’d tolerate that kind of insubordination.”

“Then you’ve heard wrong,” Zoro says flatly. “I’m not fighting with you about Luffy again, but whatever you think you know about him, you don’t.”

“I know he’s got an entire damn armada at his disposal,” Sanji says flatly. “Not to mention the sworn alliance of some of the most dangerous people in existence. That kind of power will corrupt anybody, and I’m sure your captain is no exception.”

“Then you don’t know anything,” Zoro says simply, at which point they lapse back into silence.

*****
Sanji nearly collapses when Zoro brings him down off the horse this time. His feet give out from under him, such that it’s only Zoro’s grip on his arms that keeps him upright, and he’s not quick enough to stop a pained noise from slipping out through his gritted teeth.

Giving him a minute to steady himself, Zoro slowly retracts his hands, but doesn’t move them too far away. “Can you stand on your own?”

“Do I have a choice?” Sanji demands in return. Twisting his shoulders away from Zoro’s grasp, he takes a stumbling step to the side, and very nearly winds up face planting into the ground. If Zoro hadn’t been fast enough to grab him, there’s no doubt he would have fallen.

“Don’t touch me,” he snaps, trying to pull free. “I can do it myself.”

“No, you can’t,” Zoro says simply. “You were right earlier, your legs are fucked up from riding the way you have been. Sit down for a minute to get your bearings, and then you can get back up again.”

“Fuck you,” Sanji spits. “I’m sick of you telling me what to do, and also I’ve got to piss. Get your hands off of me so I can do that.”

Figuring that a lesson earned is a lesson learned, Zoro does as he’s told. He releases his grip on Sanji’s shoulders, and then takes a handful of steps backwards, moving until the other man is no longer within reach.

Looking confused, Sanji blinks at him owlishly. Then he shrugs, takes a tentative step to the side, and promptly goes down like a sack of bricks. Zoro can hear it when he gets the wind knocked out of him, and feels what might be a pang of sympathy when the man starts coughing raggedly.

“I hate to say I told you so,” he says from where he’s standing safely out of kicking range. “But I fucking told you so.”

“Eat shit,” Sanji says, spitting into the dirt. “Forget what I said earlier, I think I want to take you down even more than I do Judge.”

“Yeah, honestly he does seem like kind of a dick,” Zoro says thoughtfully. “He’s definitely got a bit of a god complex going on, if you know what I mean.”

“You have no idea.” Having managed to get himself up into his elbows, Sanji now pitches backwards with enough force that he’s able to get up onto his knees. Once this has been accomplished, he stays where he is for a moment, and then starts trying to shove himself upright again.

Zoro watches him struggle for a bit, put vaguely in mind of a baby deer trying to walk on ice, before he inevitably huffs out a sigh and strides forward. “Come on,” he says, hooking his hands under Sanji’s armpits and beginning to haul him to his feet. “This is getting sad to - fuck!”

Maybe it’s the fact that he hasn’t tried for a bit, but Zoro’s just made the mistake of getting too close to Sanji’s teeth. Yanking his injured hand backwards, he cradles it in the palm of the other, half expecting the bastard to have drawn blood.

He holds it up for a closer inspection, which is the exact moment that Sanji chooses to lash backward with his leg. His right foot connects with Zoro’s corresponding knee, and this time it’s the swordsman who winds up sprawled in the dirt.

Coughing out a mouthful of dust, Zoro twists to the side, barely quick enough to avoid the heel that’s aiming directly for his skull. He feels the air whoosh past his face as Sanji’s foot comes down, landing close enough that his earrings rattle.

Lucky for him, the shift in momentum screws with Sanji’s already precarious balance, and the next thing Zoro knows the blond is landing on top of him. Less lucky, the position puts his bound hands close to Zoro’s belt and, more importantly, to his swords.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” He hears himself snarl. Grabbing Sanji’s wrist right as he manages to get his fingers wrapped around Kitetsu’s hilt - and of course it’d be Kitetsu, the temperamental little bitch - Zoro pulls it back hard enough that Sanji grunts in pain.

The two of them grapple in earnest after that, with Sanji giving as good as he gets despite his tied hands and his weakened state. In the end Zoro has to sit on his torso and pin his hands above his head with his own in order to get him to finally heel.

“Would you fucking stop it?” He shouts in exasperation. “You are the most frustrating person I have ever met. Never mind the bounty on your head, at this point I’m half tempted to hand you over to Judge for free!”

Sanji’s hair is in complete disarray thanks to their tussle, to the point that it should make him look ridiculous as he glares up at Zoro from flat on his back. The fire in his eyes prevents this, however, and instead he looks the most menacing Zoro’s ever seen him.

“Of course you would say that, you brute!” He snarls. “Because you’re a monster just like him! You see me as a prize, not a person, or at best a means to an end.”

“Well I’ve got news for you,” he continues on, his voice rising when Zoro makes a poor attempt to cut him off. “You may be fighting to go home, but I’m fighting to fucking survive. You don’t get to tell me to behave or to go quietly or whatever other moronic command might crawl into your head. I don’t want to go back to that dark, stinking, freezing cell again, and if the only thing I can do is make you and Judge have to earn every inch of dragging me back down there then so fucking be it! Maybe I’ll get lucky and you’ll accidentally kill me during the struggle. That’d still be better than the other option.”

Zoro stares at him, the blood roaring in his ears, and he searches in vain for something to say in light of all that. “You’re insane.”

Inexplicably, his words make Sanji laugh. “No shit,” he says weakly. “You would be too in my position.”

And maybe that’s true, Zoro honestly doesn’t know enough about him one way or another to comment. What he does know is that Sanji seems to have worn himself out for the time being, which means it’s probably okay to let him up.

“Come on,” he says, twisting sideways so that he can roll off of the other man and up onto his feet. “You’re done for now, so you might as well let me get you sorted out and then I can start on supper. Do not,” he adds as he reaches down to grab his companion, “fucking bite me again.”

Sanji’s teeth flash in the growing shadows. “No promises.”

*****
They don’t speak for the rest of the night, aside from yet more commentary from Sanji about the state of Zoro’s rudimentary cooking skills. It’s a trend that continues into the next day, leaving him to wonder if, for all his previous bravado, Sanji’s finally exhausted himself enough to develop some level of compliance.

He dismisses that thought almost as quickly as it enters his mind. He’d seen the look in Sanji’s eye while he’d been giving Zoro that thorough dressing down, if he’s behaving himself it’s only because he’s biding his time before he finds a way to attack again.

Truth be told, Zoro’s not looking forward to yet another night of trying to wrangle Sanji’s volatile ass in the woods. It therefore feels like some sort of light at the end of the tunnel situation when the path they’ve been following develops a more well maintained cast and he starts to see signs of regular foot traffic.

The town when he lays eyes on it isn’t a large one, but there are enough people milling about to indicate it probably contains an inn or two. A sign announces that they’ve arrived at “Widow’s Haven”, although it lacks any of the welcome messages that can usually be found in the eastern continent.

“Nice name,” Zoro comments as they walk past the sign, but Sanji doesn’t answer. Instead, he’s busy staring at the sign, seemingly confused by its contents. “Something on your mind, Curls?”

Sanji opens and closes his mouth a few times, his brow furrowing. “Why,” he asks finally, “are we here?”

“Because this is where the trail lead us to,” Zoro replies. “What’s the matter?” He asks in return. “Have you got something against sleeping with a roof over your head after a week outdoors?”

“Obviously not,” Sanji huffs, looking irritated. “I meant why are we here specifically. I thought you were taking me to the capital.”

“I am,” Zoro says, his own confusion growing. “What makes you think I’m not?”

Sanji gives him the same flat look he always does whenever he thinks Zoro is being an idiot. “You mean, besides the fact that this town is further away from the capital than the one you found me in?” He asks dryly.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Zoro can hear a noise that sounds like the twin sounds of Usopp and Nami’s snickering. Telling it to fuck off, he squares his shoulders and tries to look resolute. “We’re following the path I was given,” he says firmly. “If your king is sending us on a roundabout route, that’s his business.”

“Uh huh,” Sanji says. For a moment the edges of a grin lurk in the corners of his mouth, making him look years younger. Then he must remember who he’s talking to because his face hardens. “And he’s not my king. Ever.”

“Suit yourself,” Zoro says with a shrug. “But right now I want to focus on finding an inn to crash at. Bonus if it’s got a tavern attached.”

It doesn’t, unfortunately, and it turns out to be the only such establishment in town when Zoro asks. The place does sport its own kitchen, though, and the girl at the front desk promises to have something sent up when he perks up at this.

“We also do an on site laundry service,” she notes after she’s accepted the coins he pulls from the belt on his pouch. “Um, if you’d be interested in that sort of thing.”

Unbidden, Zoro glances down at his stained travelling clothes, and then over at Sanji, who looks even worse than he does. Blue eyes stare indifferently back at him, but he’s nevertheless hit with a sudden urge he’s not expecting.

“Laundry would be great,” he says, turning back to the girl. “How much extra?”

She names a price that would make Nami screech and start haggling, but Zoro honestly doesn’t care about the money. Along with the horse and her gear, Judge had provided him with some funds for the journey and a special seal to show to anyone necessary that he was going about the king’s business. He’s already had to use the latter to explain why he’s travelling with a disheveled prisoner in tow, and sees no reason as to why the money shouldn’t also be put to use.

The girl gives him the faintest of smiles when the coins drop into her palm, and she makes a careful note in the ledger where she’s already recorded their booking. “There’s a canvas bag hanging in the closet of the room where you’ll be staying. Put everything you want washed inside and then leave it outside the door. It’ll be ready by morning.”

“Sounds good,” Zoro says. “And the key for the room?”

“Right here,” she tells him, holding it up. Her gaze flicks over to Sanji for a moment, wherein she adds dryly, “I’m assuming you only need the one.”

“You assume correctly,” Zoro says, tugging on the rope tied to Sanji’s wrists to get him moving. “We won’t be going anywhere for the rest of the night.”

A foot connects with his ankle as he turns away from the desk, and his exasperated sigh is met with a glare from Sanji. “Say thank you, for the key,” the blond says before Zoro can open his mouth, “It’s bad enough with the way you’re always snarling at me. Don’t you dare be rude to a lady.”

Zoro blinks at him, taken aback, and the woman makes a noise from behind him that implies she’s equally confused. Sanji isn’t backing down, however, not if the set of his jaw when he raises his head is anything to go by.

Frankly not in the mood to argue with him, Zoro decides to let it go. Nodding at the woman over his shoulder, he gives her a terse ‘thanks’, and heads for the stairway that will take them up to their room.

The door opens into a sparsely decorated space that contains a desk, a bed, and a single overstuffed armchair. The one thing it seems to have in bulk is bedding, which Zoro imagines is in deference to the way three quarters of the year in the north make up its cold season. There’s even a heavy duty radiator built into the wall below the window.

“Well, it’s not much,” he says as he guides Sanji inside with a hand shoved between his shoulders, “but it’ll do.”

A quick survey of the room finds the closet and the canvas bag that the desk clerk had mentioned. Even better, right next to it is a door that leads to a bathroom with a full tub and shower setup. Not only are they going to be able to get their clothes cleaned, but also themselves.

“Alright,” Zoro says, taking stock of the situation. “You’re going over there while I shower,” he decides, pointing at the radiator since it looks like the most secure thing to lash Sanji to. “Then once I’m done, you can have a turn.”

Looking startled, Sanji blinks at him. “Wait, what?”

Having already set his packs down and started rummaging through them for a change of clothes, Zoro pauses in the act of pulling his lone spare pants free. “‘What’ what?” He asks. “I said you can shower after I’m finished. What’s so hard to understand?”

Rather than lessen, Sanji’s confused frown intensifies. “You’re letting me clean up?”

“ … yeah?” Zoro says, unsure of what’s so hard to follow about that. “We can throw your clothes in with mine too, although we’ll have to figure out something else for you to wear until they come back.”

Sanji continues staring at him like he’s gained a couple of extra heads, but Zoro decides not to dwell on it further. Motioning for the other man to move over to the radiator as directed, he reties his bindings such that he’s not going to be running anywhere and then goes to grab his stuff.

Deciding to play it safe, he takes his pack and swords into the washroom with him to ensure there’s no way of Sanji getting his hands on anything to free himself with. He also leaves the door open so that he’ll have a better chance of hearing if something does go wrong.

Yanking the chain on the shower head, he grunts when he’s met with a sluice of freezing cold water. Adding this to yet another thing to curse about this damn continent, he waits a bit to see if it’ll warm up and is relieved to find that it does.

Climbing into the tub, he stands under the spray and lets the water beat against his aching muscles, taking a moment to just enjoy the feeling. A moment is all he allows himself, however, not willing to let his guard down for long.

Vigorous scrubbing gets the worst of the dirt off, and he watches the water momentarily turn brown where it’s coursing over his feet. Normally he doesn’t mind going days on end without a proper scrub down, but even he has to admit it feels good after the week he’s had.

By the time he finally emerges from the tub, he feels miles better than he had and smells even more so. Patting away the worst of the rivulets trickling over his skin with a towel, he then runs the cloth over his hair and swings it over his shoulders to catch whatever droplets might still begin to fall. After that he yanks his last remaining pair of underwear out of his pack, slips into them, and goes to check on Sanji.

Remarkably, the blond is exactly where he’d left him, tied to the radiator and sitting with his back against the wall. His head is tilted back and his eyes are closed, but he cracks them open as Zoro emerges from the washroom.

Said eyes widen slightly following a closer inspection, and he sits up a little straighter. “That’s quite the scar you have there, Marimo,” he says with a nod at Zoro’s chest. “Dare I ask what happened?”

Used to this kind of reaction whenever someone sees him with his shirt off for the first time, Zoro doesn’t bother glancing down at his chest. “Like I told you before,” he says instead, “I don’t think I’m unbeatable.”

“Although,” he adds with a thoughtful noise and a faint smirk. “This was a while ago, and I have every intention of taking another run at the bastard who gave it to me someday.”

“If only I thought I’d be able to be around to watch him finish the job,” Sanji says dryly. His heart doesn’t really seem to be in the insult for once, though, and Zoro’s not surprised when he follows the words up with a yawn.

“Come on,” he says, jerking his thumb in the direction of the bathroom. “You look like you’re about to fall asleep standing up, and I don’t know how long that hot water’s going to last. Let’s get this over with.”

Now Sanji gives him a flinty eyed stare. “If you think I’m going to let you wash me, you’ve got another thing coming,” he says icily. “I don’t care how filthy I am, or how badly I want to be clean, I’ll rip you’re fucking throat out with my teeth.”

“Would it kill you to calm down for more than five seconds at a time?” Zoro asks, biting back a sigh. “I’ll untie you long enough that you can do it on your own, but you’re going to be stuck with me in the room with you because like hell am I leaving you unsupervised while your arms and legs are free.”

The look on Sanji’s face tells Zoro plenty about what he thinks of that, but he’s surprisingly docile when Zoro moves to unhook him from the radiator. By which Zoro means there’s not half as much force behind the headbutt he aims at his chin.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters as he dodges. “Put another record on, why don’t you?”

Sanji replies with something that sounds biologically impossible, but the lure of a bath must be getting to him because that’s all he does while Zoro herds him into the washroom. Even better, once there, he strips perfunctorily and climbs easily into the shower.

“Do you mind?” He says snidely when he goes to draw the curtain closed and Zoro stops him by grabbing it first.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Zoro replies. “It stays open so that I can see what you’re doing.”

“See what I’m - ?” Sanji’s eyes bulge and his face flushes an impressive shade of red. “What kind of pervert are you? I’m not about to fashion a weapon out of the shower head or anything like that!”

“So you say, but I have only your word for that,” Zoro notes. “The curtain stays where it is, or no bath.”

“I see,” Sanji says icily. “And dare I ask where you’ll be during this experience?”

“Right there,” Zoro says, pointing at the closed lid of the toilet directly across from them. “With my swords.”

Sanji’s lip curls impossibly further, and Zoro suspects the red tinting his cheeks is as much due to anger as it is mortification. The siren call of the bath must win out, however, because in the end he releases the curtain with a clipped ‘Fine’ and reaches for the taps.

It’s as he does this that Zoro notices the angry red line that’s wrapped around his right wrist. A quick glance down shows a similar mark adorning the left one, and he feels what might, almost be a flicker of shame when he realizes they must have been caused by the ropes he keeps tying Sanji’s hands with. He hadn’t realized the chafing was quite so bad.

Zoro leans forward just enough to ensure that there are no corresponding marks on Sanji’s ankles, which there aren’t. His boots must have been protecting him from the worst there, them and the fact that his legs have been bound less than his hands.

Distantly, Zoro can almost hear the sound of Chopper scolding him for not being more careful. The kind hearted little doctor hates to see anyone in pain, even someone who’s technically an enemy.

It’s the thought of Chopper that makes him realize he might be able to do something about this. Although he rarely ever uses his, he does have one of the tiny kits that the doctor always insists the entire crew travel with shoved somewhere in the recesses of his pack. There should be some salves and bandages in there that could help.

Resolved to check once they're done, he risks another look at Sanji. The other man is standing under the spray with his face turned away from Zoro, running his hands through his matted hair and lathering it up with the shampoo the inn has on hand. Satisfied that he’s not going anywhere, Zoro rests his hands on his swords and waits.

The bathroom is full of steam by the time Sanji finishes, and Zoro’s back is starting to hurt from the uncomfortable seat he’s been maintaining. On the other hand, he supposes he can’t begrudge the other man a bit of time to himself, and it’s not like he has anything better to do.

He tosses a towel at Sanji’s head when the man finally shuts off the water, snickering faintly in light of his indignant squawk. “Hurry up and get dried off so I can get the clothes put outside the room. I want to keep you where I can see you.”

“Don’t you think you’re being just a little over cautious?” Sanji grumbles as he starts wiping himself down. “As much as I’d like to flee into the night, I’m not about to do it while I’m stark naked.”

“I have only your word for that, and precedent suggests there’s very little you won’t do to try and take me down.”

“Oooh, ‘precedent suggests’?” Sanji snorts sarcastically. “Big words for a man whose intelligence level is on par with the local plants.”

“You cut me to the quick, Curls,” Zoro says, holding a hand theatrically over his heart for a moment. “Except I actually don’t give a shit what you think about me. Now, hurry up and put some pants on. I left my last clean pair out for you. Your scrawny ass will probably swim in them, but I figure it’s better than nothing.”

“ … what?” He asks when Sanji stops working with the towel and stares at him instead. “What is it?”

Rather than giving him a proper answer, Sanji tilts his head to one side, his eyebrows knitted in apparent confusion. “You’re very strange,” he declares, but nevertheless grabs the folded trousers.

As expected, they dangle precariously on his hips, and Zoro doesn’t bother hiding his amusement at the sight. They’re also a couple of inches too short, which just adds to the ridiculous picture Sanji makes.

“Hey, the other option is I take the pants and you take the underwear,” he says, holding his hands up in mock surrender when Sanji glares at him. “I figured you’d prefer this.”

“I’d prefer a lot of things,” Sanji sniffs, “but under the circumstances I suppose this will have to do.”

Any reply Zoro might make is cut off by the sound of knocking at the door. Motioning for Sanji to sit down where Zoro can see him, he goes to open it with one hand resting on the hilts of his swords.

A different girl from the one on the desk is standing on the other side. She’s holding a covered tray in her hands, one that starts to rattle when she catches sight of the sword gripped in his hands.

“Um!” She squeaks nervously. “Magda said you wanted supper brought up? And I was told to pick up your laundry while I was here?”

“Oh, right. Yeah.” Zoro says, feeling awkward in the face of her nerves. “You can put the tray on the desk while I grab the laundry. Don’t mind him,” he adds with a pointed look at Sanji, who’s now sitting on the bed with his hands folded in his lap. “He’s going to be on his best behaviour and not give anyone any trouble.”

Sanji smirks at him. “I’d rather cut out my own heart than cause difficulty for a lady,” he says gravely. “Whereas you I’d happily murder in your sleep.”

Oddly enough he sounds like he’s telling the truth on both counts.

Clearly wanting to get out of here as quickly as possible, the girl, or rather the maid, Zoro supposes, sets the tray down as indicated. After that she picks up the bag of laundry, staying put only long enough for Zoro to toss Sanji’s clothes in as well before she flees.

“You definitely have a way with women, Mosshead,” Sanji says as the sound of her footsteps hurrying down the hall fades into the distance. “I bet she’s going to have all manner of horror stories for her coworkers tonight.”

“I didn’t touch her!” Zoro protests, but all Sanji does is shrug.

“Nevertheless.”

“Whatever,” Zoro grunts. “Let’s just eat, and then I’ll take a look at your hands before we turn in.”

“I beg your finest fucking pardon?” Reacting with far more intensity than Zoro would have expected, Sanji rears back with his arms raised to his chest, almost as if he’s trying to draw the limbs in question out of reach. “I don’t know why you think you’re getting anywhere near my hands, but over my dead body is that happening.”

Wondering where this latest brand of weirdness is coming from, Zoro bites back a sigh. “Your wrists are fucked,” he says, nodding at them. “They need seeing to so they don’t get worse, or infected even.”

Zoro’s lost count of the number of times Sanji’s looked at him like he’s gone insane tonight, but he’s now got another to add to the list. “What do you care?” The blond demands. “I’m your prisoner, remember? The guy you’re dragging to his doom?”

Now Zoro does sigh. “Just because I’m bringing you in doesn’t mean I have to be cruel about it. You haven’t done anything to me, personally. Well, aside from all the kicking, scratching, spitting and biting, but that much I get. There’s some herbs and shit in my pack that should help with the cuts and I’ll try not to tie your wrists quite so tightly when I hook you to the bed tonight.”

“The bed? What the fuck are you talking about?”

Truth be told, Zoro isn’t entirely sure what he’s talking about, the word had just slipped out before he could say anything else. Oh well, he supposes he’s already committed at this point.

“You can have the bed,” he says, squaring his shoulders in the face of Sanji’s baffled expression. “I’m fine to sleep in the chair, but there’s nothing to tie you to it. It’s either this, or you’re back on the floor by the radiator. Which would you prefer?”

“I’d prefer that you let me go entirely.”

“Nice try.”

Still looking thrown, Sanji visibly rallies in an attempt to get back to their normal footing. “Well I thought it was worth a shot,” he mutters. “Having said that, if you’re serious, then, yes, I’ll take the bed.”

“Good,” Zoro replies. “I’m glad we got that settled.”

*****
Sleeping in the armchair is no worse than sleeping outside on the ground. Zoro wakes the next morning feeling refreshed, and without any unexpected cricks in his neck.

A quick glance at the bed tells him Sanji is still unconscious. His arms are raised at an awkward angle thanks to the fact that Zoro had had to loop the rope around one of the bedposts, but hopefully no damage has been done.

And speaking of damage - even in the dim light filtering in through the curtains, Zoro can still easily make out the sight of the bandages wrapped around the other man’s wrist. They stand out starkly against his pale skin, and Zoro scowls at the reminder of his own carelessness. Sure, Sanji hasn’t been making this trip easy on him, but that’s no excuse.

Shaking his head to clear those maudlin thoughts away, Zoro climbs to his feet with a grunt. Ducking into the bathroom to take care of business, he uses the facilities and then splashes some cold water on his face before making his way back to the bedroom.

Sanji’s still asleep, but Zoro knows there won’t be a return to dreamland for him. He’s up for the day now, so he may as well find something to do until breakfast and their clean clothes arrive. Without those, he can’t go anywhere anyway.

Since the room isn’t exactly large, there’s a limit to what he can do in the space. He settles for running through a series of stretching exercises, and, when that only takes up so much time, moves on to cleaning his swords.

Enma is sitting heavy in his hands, exuding her usual aura of dangerous anticipation, when he notices a shift in Sanji’s breathing. Turning to look at the other man, he’s unsurprised to find that he’s starting to stir.

Tired eyelids crack open, and Zoro’s greeted with a familiar flash of blue. Sanji glances up at the ceiling first, then at the rope binding him to the bed, and then finally over at Zoro.

“You know,” he says with a sigh, “for a second there I thought I was back in my room near the tavern and thought this had all been some kind of terrible dream. I guess I should have known better than to ever imagine I’d get that lucky.”

Zoro shrugs, not really knowing what to say to that. “How did you sleep?”

Letting out a yawn heavy enough that Zoro can see his back molars, Sanji sags back into the bedding with a grunt. “Oh fine, fine,” he says. “Or at least as well as I could have under the circumstances. How about yourself?”

He’s in a weird mood this morning, Zoro notes, sounding downright docile in comparison to his usual attitude. Maybe the bath and the bed have him feeling kind of mellow, not that Zoro’s going to trust it to last, of course.

“I slept fine,” he says, while simultaneously promising himself not to be lured into a false sense of security. “Although I’d like to be able to get up and start my day. I’m hungry, and I’d like to pick up some supplies before we leave town.”

“Urgh, yes, please,” Sanji mutters, shaking his head to try and get some tousled locks of hair out of his face. “My kingdom for some real food, I beg of you.”

“You don’t have a kingdom,” Zoro replies with an amused snort. “And what’s wrong with the food we’ve been having? It’s not like I’ve been forcing you to starve.”

“Starve, no,” Sanji admits. “But forcing me to eat poorly cooked meat with no seasoning whatsoever, yes. I weep for your tastebuds if this is the kind of thing you usually subject them to.”

“Food’s food,” Zoro says, shrugging. “As long as I’m getting the proper sustenance to keep me going, I don’t need it to be dressed up all fancy-like.”

Sanji gives him a despairing look. “For the record, that’s probably the worst thing you’ve ever said to me, and I’m including the phrase ‘Vinsmoke Judge would like a word with you’ when I say that.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Zoro mutters, before adding belatedly, “and I do not sound like that. Your imitations are shit.”

“My imitations are as brilliant as the rest of me,” Sanji informs him. “Also, would you come let me up already? I’ve got to piss, and I doubt the inn’s staff will be pleased if I make a mess all over the place.”

“Right, yeah, I’m on it,” Zoro says. Sliding Emma back into her sheath, he carefully lines her up against the wall next to her sisters and pushes himself off the floor. He’ll pack up the cleaning supplies in a moment, but for now he’ll get Sanji sorted.

“You take good care of your weapons,” Sanji observes as he steps over to the bed. “Which I suppose makes sense since they’re the tools of your trade, but it is somewhat surprising given the rest of you.”

“Do I even want to know what that means?” Zoro asks. He keeps his tone level, not wanting to escalate things while Sanji’s being calm for once, and reaches up to start untying the bindings.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Sanji says, lying still while Zoro works. “It was merely a statement of fact. One that I can even relate to in a way since I too take good care of the tools I need to do my work. Or at least I try to anyway.”

“Yeah?” Zoro asks, concentrating on a particularly stubborn knot. “And what tools are those?”

In answer, Sanji flexes his bound hands, his fingers wriggling back and forth in the process. “A chef’s hands are the most important utensil he’ll ever wield,” he says gravely. “Failure to take care of them means that all other tasks are moot.”

Pausing in what he’s doing, Zoro lets his gaze trail over the hands in question, examining them with more intensity than he ever had before. “How does a chef become the most wanted criminal in an entire kingdom?” He wonders.

Sanji’s smile is bitter as he lets his head fall back against the pillow. “That, my mossy friend, is complicated.”

*****
If Zoro had thought Sanji was going to elaborate on his backstory, he is sorely mistaken. Rather than say anything further, the blond lapses into sullen silence for the rest of the morning, only perking up briefly when the same girl from the night before arrives with their laundry and breakfast in tow.

Sanji looks the happiest he’s been during the length of their acquaintance when he’s able to tug his clothes back on and doesn’t wind up covered in mud and dust. The items have taken enough of a beating that they’re still stained in some places, but nothing like they were before.

The blond’s good mood keeps up while they eat. He still doesn’t say much of anything, but nor does he try and attack Zoro over the eggs. In fact, he’s so docile that Zoro lets him eat with his hands unencumbered, an act he swears has nothing to do with the bandages on the other man’s wrists.

Once the food is done and what little gear they have is packed up, however, Zoro’s met with a quandary. He still wants to pick up some fresh supplies while they have the benefit of being in a town, but he’s not exactly thrilled with the prospect of having to navigate a marketplace while also keeping an eye on Sanji. The town may not be huge, but it’s still big enough for the blond to melt into the crowd if he manages to run off.

Zoro weighs the pros and cons of what he’s about to do, going back and forth over his options in his head until Sanji starts looking at him in mild alarm. Apparently the other man can tell that he’s deep in thought, and isn’t sure what to make of it.

In the end, Zoro decides that the safer option is leaving Sanji behind, but in such a way that he’s not going to have a hope of escaping. Once again hooking him to the radiator, he makes sure his hands are securely tied, albeit in a manner that hopefully won’t reopen the wounds under his wrappings.

From there he moves on to tying Sanji’s feet together, and then adds another rope anchoring them to one of the bedposts. He also clears away any potential debris within reach, regardless of whether or not it could be used to try and cut the ropes.

“You’re staying here,” he announces, and then immediately flushes at the ‘no shit?’ expression Sanji gives him. “You’re also, and don’t bitch about it, getting gagged. I don’t want you pulling any crap while I’m gone.”

Sanji tugs pointedly at the rope tying his wrists to the radiator. “Exactly what crap am I meant to pull?” He asks, his sarcastic tone back in full force. “You’ve got me roped like a hog on a spit.”

Zoro gives him a smarmy grin in response. “Take it as a compliment, Curls,” he suggests. “You’ve given me so much trouble over the past week that I wouldn’t put anything by you.”

Based on the look on his face, Sanji does not seem to think this is as praiseworthy as Zoro claims. That look soon fades into a resigned one, however, and he lets his head fall back against the wall with a quiet thump.

“Could you at least use something other than the bandana?” He asks wearily. “I don’t have any idea where it’s been, and based on your overall demeanor, I doubt I want to. Also, I know you didn’t include it in the laundry you gave to the maid.”

His right hand already raised to reach for said bandana, Zoro pauses in the act of untying it. “I don’t really have any other options,” he says after a moment’s pause. “Not unless you want me to use rope, that is, and that’ll chafe like a son of a bitch.”

“No doubt,” Sanji says, briefly closing his eyes. “Alright, the bandana it is then.”

With that said, he lets Zoro tie the cloth around his mouth with surprising equanimity. As in, he doesn’t try to bite him even once.

His charge thus secured, Zoro grabs his packs and his swords, and leaves the room. A quick stop to talk to the front desk clerk gets him directions to the local marketplace, although it sure as hell doesn’t turn out to be just a two minute walk away like she claims.

It takes him over a half an hour before he hears the familiar sound of sellers hawking their wares. Relieved, since the town had been getting on his last nerve, he hurries towards the noise and turns a corner that brings him out on a street lined with stalls on either side.

The list of things Zoro’s after isn’t long, but he finds himself having to fend off various vendors who try to take advantage of the traveller in their midst. Much of what they’re offering is produce and cuts of meat that won’t last, though, so he shrugs them off as being useless to him.

He’s just checked off the last of the items on his mental list when a flash of light catches his eye. Turning for a better look, he finds himself gazing at a wall of various trinkets, none of which bare even the slightest resemblance to food.

There’s jewelry and small dishes. Utensils and odd bits of decorative crap that he’d have no use for. There even appear to be belt buckles and about half a dozen items he can’t put a name to. All told it’s a bizarre conglomeration of options, such that he wonders what was going through the artisan’s head when he was putting together his selection.

About to move away, Zoro pauses when he spots a tray containing half a dozen long stemmed pipes lying next to each other, side by side. Each one has an identical pattern of twisting vines carved into them, and he leans in for a closer look without conscious thought.

“Ahh, Sir has a discerning eye!” Moving like a shark who’s caught the scent of blood, the man the stall belongs to sidles over to Zoro with a pleased look. “In need of a replacement are you?”

“Not me, I never touch the stuff,” Zoro says instantly. “It fucks with your lung capacity and can slow you down at a critical moment.”

The man blinks, clearly taken aback. “I see,” he says, some of the weaselly tone casing from his voice as he realizes there might not be much of a sale here. “Well then, is there anything else you’d like to look at?”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t interested in the pipes,” Zoro snaps before he can think better of it. “I said I don’t smoke, but I’m travelling with someone who does and he, uh, lost his.”

And oh but he can practically hear Sanji’s response to that.

“Lost? Oh yeah, sure, I definitely lost it.” Blue eyes flash dangerously as Sanji rolls them hard enough that he’s lucky he doesn’t strain anything. “If you want to define being snatched off the street on my way home, without anything to my name but the close on my back, then fine, I lost it. You’re such a dunce.”

Zoro wonders if some of his internal monologue is showing on his face because the vendor’s smile is starting to look a little rough around the edges. Biting back a sigh - while also wondering what the hell he thinks he’s doing - he points at the nearest pipe. “Bag that up for me,” he directs. “And while you’re at it, show me where I can get some damn tobacco since I’m going to need that too.”

*****
He’s later than he means to be when he returns to the inn. In fact, he’s so late that they threaten to charge him for an extra day if he doesn’t get out soon enough. Rolling his eye at such a petty display, Zoro reminds them that it’s the king he’s running an errand for, which seems to settle the matter.

Sanji is, thankfully, exactly where he’d left him, looking bored but otherwise no worse for wear. It doesn’t take Zoro long to collect him, or the horse where she’s been safely stabled next door to the inn, and then they’re on their way again.

The day passes uneventfully, minus the fact that they encounter more travellers on the road than they’re used to seeing. This peters out the further away they get from the town, though, so Zoro chalks it up to higher traffic on that basis. Besides, no one spares them more than a passing glance.

“This country really is a strange one,” Zoro mutters after they cross paths with what would turn out to be the last person of the day. “It’s like everyone who lives here is keeping their head down for some reason or another.”

“It’s not some reason, it’s just one,” Sanji says in reply. He shifts in the saddle, most likely trying to ease the strain on whatever group of muscles has recently gone stiff, and nods back the way the unknown man had come. “It’s called tyranny. No one in Germa wants to face Judge’s wrath, and you’re leading a prisoner with a horse sporting his livery. Of course they’re staying out of your way.”

Zoro clicks his tongue, more bothered by this idea than he’d care to admit. “What’s he done that’s so bad? To his people, I mean? I’m well aware that he enjoys conquering various parts of the North.”

“Isn’t that enough?” Sanji counters, his eyes flashing. “Except, oh wait,” he practically spits, “of course you wouldn’t have an issue with such behaviour. You’re the right hand man of someone who’s probably even worse.”

“You know, it’s funny in a way,” he adds as Zoro feels his hackles go up. “Part of me is honestly surprised he twisted your arm to get you to do his dirty work for him. You obviously resent having to take this job, so wouldn’t it have made more sense for him to play nice given who you work for? He could have tried to wrangle an alliance with an equally powerful leader out of this mess. Instead, you’re going to go crawling back to your captain with a story of how the King of Germa used you as a glorified errand boy. It’s strange.”

“Luffy would never form an alliance with Judge,” Zoro snarls, offended to his core at the very idea. “Judge is the kind of man he brings down.”

One of Sanji’s curled eyebrows rises sardonically. “How ironic that is then, in light of your recent behaviour.”

Zoro holds his gaze for a moment, but in the end he’s the first to look away. “Luffy will understand,” he tells the ground as it passes beneath his feet with each step. “He won’t hold it against me.”

Sanji’s resulting snort is loud enough to momentarily cancel out the sound of the horse’s hooves. “If Monkey D. Luffy is willing to overlook you trading in an innocent man for your own freedom, then he’s exactly the kind of tyrant people say he is.”

Unbidden, Zoro finds himself looking up again at that. Twisting his neck around, he stares at Sanji, waiting until he’s caught that blue eyed gaze with his own. “You’ve never called yourself innocent before,” he all but accuses. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sanji stares levelly back at him. “What does it matter if I’m innocent or not?” He wants to know. “You’re going to hand me over to Judge either way.”

An insistent feeling starts churning in Zoro’s gut, travelling all the way up his throat like it’s going to choke him. “It matters,” he says through gritted teeth. “I - it matters.”

Sanji’s quiet for a long, long time, and he keeps his eyes locked on Zoro’s face, like he’s searching for something. As to whether or not he finds it, that remains unclear, but eventually he lets out a heavy sigh and his mouth curves up in a gross parody of a grin.

“Don’t worry, Mossy,” he says. “For better or for worse, I’m guilty of every single crime Judge has accused me of.”

“And what are those?” Zoro demands, suddenly needing to know. He’s not sure why he cares, since the reasons for a person’s bounty have never bothered him before, but here and now, the answer is a necessity.

Unfortunately, it seems that Sanji’s done playing nice. Shrugging as heavily as his bindings will allow, the blond cants his head backwards, letting the sunlight brush across his face whenever it cracks through the tree line. “That’s between me and Judge,” he says simply. “It’s none of your business.”

“The hell it isn’t,” Zoro sputters. “You’re the one who started this, so go on. Put your money where your mouth is and tell me what you’ve done that was so terrible that the king of this nation decided to personally hunt you down.”

“I disobeyed him,” Sanji replies. “Repeatedly as it happens. Although, I’d say the argument could be made that most times it was through no fault of my own. However, Judge doesn’t see it that way, and even I’ll admit that the last one was … particularly blatant. I should have known he’d insist on bringing me to heel over it.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” Zoro insists. “You’re being vague on purpose.”

“Of course I am,” Sanji says glibly. “Keeping my cards close to my chest is one of the ways I’ve survived as long as I have. You can’t expect me to change now, just because the reaper has finally come knocking.”

He falls silent then, but continues looking at Zoro expectantly. Zoro, that is, who has no idea what to say, and therefore says nothing at all.

*****
“And once again, I am resigned to sleeping arrangements that involve the cold, hard ground and a tree.” Sanji lets out a breath explosive enough that it momentarily lifts his bangs off his forehead. “I’ve got to say, Marimo, after last night’s accommodations, this is a considerable letdown.”

Most of his attention focused on making sure Sanji’s ropes are properly wrapped around said tree’s trunk, Zoro merely grunts in response. He then stands, taking a moment to survey his work.

“Don’t worry,” Sanji says from his spot lashed to the base of the tree. “I’m as firmly tied down as always and won’t be going anywhere until you let me up again.”

“So you say,” Zoro observes, “but you’ve got a vested interest in making me think you’re better secured than you are to lull me into a false sense of security. If it’s all the same to you, I’m going to check for myself.”

Sanji flutters his hands in a touché kind of gesture, a move that’s all the more impressive considering the fact that his wrists are likewise bound together. Then he sags against the tree with a huff.

“You could at least offer me a pillow,” he grumbles, digging his shoulders into the bark. “Aside from yesterday, the last week’s worth of sleeps have been hell on my back.”

“I don’t even have a pillow for myself,” Zoro points out, motioning to the bedroll he’s now unspooling. “Why the hell would I bring one along for you?”

“It’s this little thing called common courtesy,” Sanji informs him with a sniff. “Just because you’re, literally, dragging me to my doom is no reason to be rude about it.”

His words remind Zoro of his purchases earlier that day, causing him to straighten abruptly. “That’s a good point,” he notes. “Hold on a second.”

Sanji lets out a confused noise, but it’s not like he can actually do anything beyond provide sarcastic commentary. He waits with obvious ill-grace as Zoro grabs his pack and starts rummaging around in it, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline when the swordsman pulls the recently obtained pipe free.

“I got tobacco too,” Zoro says, holding up the pouch so Sanji can see it. “Dunno if it’s the brand you’re used to, though. I kind of had to just buy what was on hand.”

His eyes wide, Sanji has to open and close his mouth a few times before he’s able to get any words out. “How did you know I smoke?”

Now it’s Zoro’s turn to frown. “You mentioned it a couple of nights ago,” he replies. “You said something about how the worst of the cravings had faded but they were still bothering you. I don’t touch the stuff so I didn’t have any to offer you, but then I saw this in the market this morning.”

“And you just magnanimously decided to take pity on me and my nicotine cravings?” Sanji demands. His voice is pitching higher than Zoro feels is warranted, but he’s long noticed that Sanji’s kind of an overdramatic sort.

“Yeah,” Zoro says, shrugging in the face of the other man’s incredulous stare. “So what?”

“What do you mean ‘so what’?” Sanji retorts, momentarily straining against the ropes around his chest that have him trapped against the tree. “So I’m the prisoner and you’re the captor, meaning you’re supposed to treat me like crap! That’s what!”

“Uh okay,” Zoro says, glancing down at the pouch and the pipe in his hands. “Are you saying you don’t want it then?”

“Of course I’m not saying that!” Sanji snaps. “How thick are you? Not only have I been fighting cravings all week, but they’re going to get a thousand times worse knowing that there’s an avenue of salvation this close at hand if I don’t do something about it. Get your ass over here and give me the damn pipe!”

“You know, you’re awfully bossy for a guy tied to a tree.”

In answer, Sanji continues to strain against the ropes wrapped around his chest and holds up his hands. His fingers flex in anticipation, and he eyes the pipe in Zoro’s hands hungrily as he carries it across the camp.

“You’re going to have to pack it and light it for me,” he says as Zoro draws near. “Unless you’re going to be kind enough to untie me and let me do it myself.”

“Not fucking likely,” Zoro replies with a snort. “And you’re not keeping it on you either. I don’t trust you enough to let you use it unsupervised.”

For a second Sanji looks like he might protest this, but impatience wins out in the end. Making grabby hands as best as he’s able, he snatches the pipe from Zoro as soon as it’s ready, bringing it to his lips and inhaling deeply.

“Ohhh fuck,” he says, exhaling a cloud of smoke with his eyes closed. “I take back every mean thing I’ve ever said about you Cabbage-For-Brains, you are a prince among men, the most noble bounty hunter in all the land, a veritable saint of - ”

“Knock it off,” Zoro says, kicking Sanji’s foot lightly with his own. “I got you that to try and calm you down, not make you worse. Don’t make me regret it.”

Sanji cracks one eye open long enough to glare at him, but quickly returns to savouring his pipe. “You even managed to get your hands on the good stuff,” he says after another drag. “I am reluctantly impressed.”

“I don’t care what you are,” Zoro grumbles. He’s pretty sure he can feel the back of his neck growing warm, and he doesn’t like it. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

Both Sanji’s eyes open then, but his expression is impossible to read. It feels not unlike he’s searching for something, and Zoro doesn’t appreciate having the level of intensity his gaze is conveying directed at him.

“Just sit back and smoke the damn thing,” he grunts, fiddling with the bindings on Wado’s hilt. “I’m not letting you have it for long, so you may as well make the most of it.”

Humming, Sanji takes another drag.

*****
They pass the next several days in a similar fashion. Every morning they break camp, then they spend most of the day travelling, until finally they retire again for the evening. Zoro makes sure that Sanji remains as immobilized as possible, and the other man endures it with increasing stoicism, not fighting back nearly as much as he had previously.

Zoro considers asking him about his change in behaviour, and then just as quickly decides he doesn’t want to know. Whatever Sanji’s motivations are, the swordsman will accept them for now, while also keeping a careful eye out.

Another week has passed before they hit a proper road again. Like before they start crossing paths with more and more individuals, starting with the odd one here and there but ultimately growing to a steady stream. Also like before, they all give Zoro and his charge a wide berth.

“I assume we’re getting close to another town?” Zoro says after the umpteenth person has ducked their head and scuttled away from following a single glance in their direction. “And a bigger one than last time too, given the amount of people.”

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you what happens when you assume things?” Sanji asks glibly from his place in the saddle. “Having said that, in this instance I’d say you’re correct. If I had to guess, we’re probably coming up on the capital.”

“Wonderful,” Zoro mutters. The capital lies about a half a day’s ride from the actual location of the royal palace. Originally he’d bypassed it when starting his mission because Judge had been adamant his people had already searched the place. He’s half-tempted to do so again now to avoid the crowds, but this time it’ll add to his journey as opposed to lessen it. “I hate big cities.”

“Personally, it’s the only large city I’ve ever seen,” Sanji notes, “but I’d be lying if I said I was especially fond of it myself. And not just because reaching it means we’re almost back to Judge.”

“How far away from it would you say we are now?” Zoro asks, figuring that of the two of them, Sanji’s the more likely to know since he’s local.

Sanji, however, merely shrugs. “A few hours?” He guesses. “I honestly haven’t spent much time here, and I don’t know the roads well.”

“Mmm.” Scratching absently at his chin, Zoro considers their options. It’s mid-afternoon already. If Sanji’s right and it’s going to take them another three to four hours just to reach the city, there’s no way they reach the palace until an absolutely absurd hour in the morning. Based on that, another night in an inn sounds like the better option.

Nodding to himself, he lets his hand drop down and nudges the horse forward. “We’ll head into the city and find somewhere to stay for the evening,” he announces. “Then we’ll head out at first light and should be able to make the palace by a little after lunch.”

Sanji slumps forward in the saddle a little bit. “I can barely contain my excitement,” he says dryly. “Honestly, I’d jump for joy, but I’m afraid these pesky ropes might get in the way.”

“You’re nowhere near as funny as you think you are.”

*****
Zoro doesn’t bother searching for a high class affair. He stops at the first semi-decent looking place that advertises itself as having rooms available, and drags Sanji inside as soon as he’s handed the horse off to someone to stable her. The front desk clerk startles at their abrupt entrance, but otherwise doesn’t comment.

“The sign out front says you’ve got rooms we can stay in,” Zoro says, already reaching for the token in his pocket that’s set with the Vinsmoke crest. “How much, and how quickly can you get one ready?”

Dark eyebrows shoot up when the man sees what Zoro is holding, and he dares to take a quick glance at Sanji, who rolls his eyes and sneers. Letting out a squeak, the clerk turns back to Zoro.

“I’m afraid you’ve arrived in the middle of our cleaning services,” he says, his throat bobbing rapidly in the face of having to deliver what he clearly thinks is bad news. “I’m sorry, Sir, but it’ll be at least an hour or two before we can get you in anywhere.”

“An hour or two I can live with so long as you can promise me a spot to spend the night,” Zoro says. “Preferably in a room that’s high off the ground in case this one gets any ideas.”

This time the clerk nods vigorously. “We have a penthouse suite that will be free,” he trills. “It’ll be closer to two hours than one before it’s ready, but it’s on the top floor of the building if that works.”

“It does,” Zoro says. “Can I get the keys now and then we’ll come back later when we can get in?”

“Yes, that’s fine,” the clerk says, relaxing slightly in the face of Zoro’s willingness to play nice. “You can even leave your packs here and I’ll keep an eye on them until the room is free.”

“Yeah, that part isn’t happening,” Zoro says flatly, mildly amused when the clerk’s spine stiffens. “I’ll take directions to the nearest pub, though. I’m hungry, and that seems like a decent enough way to kill the next few hours.”

The transaction is processed quickly after that, and the clerk is all too willing to stutter out directions to what he swears is a tavern with the best food in the surrounding area. Based on the resulting scoffing noises, Sanji at least has his doubts, but Zoro isn’t in a mood to be picky.

He’s in even less of one when the clerk’s directions turn out to be crap and they spend longer than anticipated wandering around trying to find the place. Sanji provides some colorful commentary that is less than helpful, and Zoro’s mood is decidedly sour when the tavern finally swims into view.

That fact must be evident as soon as he steps inside because they’re seated in record time, in a booth located in a corner out of the way. The waitress does spare a confused glance at Sanji’s bound hands, but a flash of the Vinsmoke seal again nips any potential questioning in the bud.

“Fuck I hope their booze is decent,” Zoro says as he reclines back with a sigh. “Most of the shit I’ve seen imported out of the North isn’t worth the water they wash the kegs out with, though.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers, Mossy,” Sanji tells him. For his part the blond seems to be trying to find a position that won’t see his arms resting at an awkward angle, and Zoro watches him twist around with one eyebrow raised.

“You may as well just leave your arms on the table,” he says after several seconds of this. “Enough people have already noticed us, and I can deal with anyone who decides they feel like being nosy.”

“Maybe I don’t feel like being gawked at, did you ever think of that?” Sanji grumbles. “It’s bad enough that you get to see me like this. I’m not exactly happy about a bunch of strangers doing it too.”

“I don’t suppose you’d be kind enough to untie me while we’re here?” He adds with his best attempt at an innocent expression. “I promise I won’t go anywhere.”

“You can promise all you like,” Zoro replies. “We both know you’re lying through your teeth.”

“Well, yes,” Sanji huffs, “but you can’t blame a man for trying.”

“Watch me.”

Any reply Sanji might make is cut off by the return of the waitress. For his part Zoro had been too busy bickering with his companion to look at the menu, so he tells her to bring him whatever the special is, along with a tankard of ale. Sanji’s slightly more discerning with his palate, but soon rhymes off an order as well.

The woman shoots a confused look at Zoro, and it takes him a moment to realize she’s looking for confirmation that she’s supposed to feed his prisoner as well. Biting back an irate scoff, Zoro nods and sends her on her way.

She’s only just made it out of earshot when a foot connects with his shin under the table. “That was not an appropriate tone to take with a lady,” Sanji says when Zoro swears and grabs for his leg. “She was only asking a question.”

Hissing through his teeth, Zoro contorts himself so that he can try and rub some of the sting out of his leg. “You have,” he grunts, “some of the weirdest fucking priorities I’ve ever seen.”

Sanji rolls his eyes. “By which you mean I have manners,” he surmises. “It’s not actually a bad thing. I suggest you try it sometime.”

“No thanks,” Zoro mutters, giving his leg one last pat. “I’ll pass.”

“Suit yourself,” Sanji shrugs.

The waitress is quick to return with their drinks, and happily the food arrives not long after that. Silence descends over their table as they each dig in, although Zoro’s definitely having an easier time wielding his utensils thanks to his free hands. At one point he almost offers to help, but decides he doesn’t need a matching bruise on his other shin.

He must not do a great job of keeping a blank face, however, because in the end Sanji glances up and gives him a frosty smirk. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?” He asks, his hands canted at an odd angle as he tries to cut into the meat on his plate.

“If they did I was too young for it to sink in,” Zoro replies, matching the other man’s smirk with one of his own. “Why don’t you quit futzing around with those and just use your hands?”

“Because while you may be an uncivilized brute, I am not,” Sanji sniffs. “Eat with my hands, honestly. I’d ask who raised you, but I imagine the answer would be as unsatisfactory as the last one.”

“I guess that depends on your interpretation of things,” Zoro says after taking a swig of his drink. “I was orphaned early on, lived on the streets in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it kind of village in the East until I wound up in a dojo that was willing to train me. I stayed there until I was sixteen and started bounty hunting as a way to survive. Then I met Luffy.”

“And the rest, as they say, is history,” Sanji says, fluttering his fingers dramatically. “What a delightful little rags-to-riches story you have there, Marimo. Only, I imagine yours involved a lot more killing and maiming than most.”

“I did what I had to do to survive,” Zoro says, unashamed. “And after that I did what my captain needed me to.”

“A fine justification,” Sanji mutters. “Does it help you sleep at night?”

“I’ve never had any problems,” Zoro lies.

Sanji eyes him for a few seconds before returning to struggling with his meal. “This would be a lot easier if I could use my damn hands properly.”

“That’s too bad.”

Zoro’s easy dismissal earns him another glare, after which Sanji lets his gaze roam around the room for a moment, which ultimately sees him let out a disgusted huff. “Well that is simply just not fair.”

“What isn’t?” Ever the wary one, Zoro turns to see what he’s looking at and eventually locks eyes with a top heavy brunette who has the nerve to wink back at him. “Who the fuck is that?”

“I have no idea,” Sanji says, “but she’s eyeing you the way a chef would a choice cut of a meat. I imagine that if I wasn’t here, she’d come over and offer to keep you company.”

The lilt he puts on the word ‘company’ makes it obvious what kind of definition he’s using for the word. It matches the look in the brunette’s eye, and Zoro turns away with a pointed grunt.

“Not interested,” he says flatly, and reaches for his tankard again.

Both Sanji’s eyebrows fly up. “Are you blind?” He demands, giving the woman another look. “She’s beautiful.”

“I’m working.”

“Oh please, pull the other one,” Sanji scoffs. “You’ve left me trussed up like a ham on enough occasions that you could figure out a way to have your cake and eat it too. With the way she’s looking at you, I figure she’ll give you time to get yourself sorted.”

“She’ll be waiting forever then,” Zoro informs him. Sanji continues staring at him skeptically, however, so he rolls his eye. “I don’t fuck women.”

That certainly gets Sanji’s attention. “What, never?” He asks, sounding boggled.

“Pretty sure that was implied, yeah,” Zoro tells him.

“So you, wait, this isn’t you saying you’re some kind of monk or something is it?” Sanji asks, his head tilting curiously to one side. “Some stoic warrior thing where you refuse to let yourself be distracted by the pleasures of the flesh?”

Zoro just barely resists a sudden urge to bury his face in his hands. “No, Curls,” he says tiredly. “It’s me saying that I fuck men and men only.”

“ … right,” Sanji says, looking flustered. “Congratulations?”

Now Zoro gives into said urge. “Just eat you’re fucking food so we can leave,” he mumbles into his fingers.

His eyes narrowing, Sanji jabs at his plate. “Quit rushing me, asshole. God, you have no manners whatsoever.”

*****
For all his ire about being rushed, Sanji spends the remainder of their meal largely in silence. He’s also equally quiet during the walk back to the inn, and barely manages to dredge up a smile from somewhere when a different person manning the front desk - a woman now - hands over the keys.

The room when Zoro shoves the door open is bigger and grander than the last one they’d rented, and definitely a far cry from the outdoors. Mind you, there’s still only one bed, but at least this time there’s a padded couch that looks long enough for him to stretch out on.

“We’ll use the same sleeping arrangements we did last time,” he decides. “The bed posts look sturdy enough to hold you if I tie you to them, and this way I won’t have to listen to you complain about how the couch is hard on your back.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Sanji sneers as he stumbles further into the room with the help of a hand planted between his shoulder blades. “I’m the strong, stoic type who suffers in silence.”

“It’s been weeks and I’ve yet to see any evidence of this,” Zoro reports. “Now go sit so I can tie you down for a bit and grab myself a shower. Once I’m done, you can have a turn.”

“You’re a prince among men.” Sanji says sarcastically, but he nevertheless allows himself to be manoeuvred where Zoro wants him. “At least I’ll be mostly clean when tomorrow comes.”

There’s a hollow quality to his words that resonates with Zoro in ways he doesn’t want to think about. Doing his best to banish this from his mind, he goes to wash up as intended, and then returns to help Sanji do the same.

“I didn’t think to ask about a laundry service this time,” Zoro notes from where he’s standing in the bathroom doorway, watching the other man strip. “You can borrow something of mine tonight if you like, but you’re going to have to put your regular clothes back on tomorrow.”

“Wonderful,” Sanji huffs, his voice muffled because he’s busy pulling his shirt over his head. “Well, I guess a boy can’t have everything.”

For the briefest of moments Zoro considers arguing with him by pointing out that he’s treated him as well as he can during this journey. Then it quickly dawns on him just how ridiculous that would sound, so he thinks better of it.

“Just hurry up and get undressed,” he says tersely. “The sooner you get washed, the sooner I can stop standing here and go get some rest.”

“Aww, is the big, bad Marimo tired?” Sanji coos as his hands move to his trousers. “Are you mad that you’re stuck babysitting me for one more night? Funny, given our chat in the tavern I would’ve thought you’d enjoy this part.”

“What’re you talking about?” Zoro demands, frowning. “I just told you I want to go to sleep. Quit screwing around.”

His hands finishing with the buttons on his pants but otherwise leaving them as is, Sanji shoots him a grin. “Oh please,” he says, his smile widening the longer Zoro scowls at him, “I can think of some forms of screwing around that you’d probably enjoy.”

“I doubt it,” Zoro says, his shoulders tensing when Sanji takes a measured step towards him. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.” He says firmly. “Take your fucking shower, and that’s it.”

“But what if I’d rather get even messier first?” Sanji asks, continuing his steady advance. “Showering now would defeat the purpose in that case.”

“Knock it off, Sanji,” Zoro says sternly. “Stop playing games and go take care of yourself.”

“Even if I’d rather take care of you?” Sanji purrs. His blue eyes flash, Zoro able to see it easily thanks to how close he’s gotten, and pale, elegant fingers rise to trail their way over the exposed part of the scar on Zoro’s chest. “I think I’d like to see how far down this thing goes.”

That’s all the warning Zoro gets before the same hand shifts to the back of his neck and a pair of lips are suddenly pressing insistently on his own. Completely taken aback, Zoro lets out an alarmed bleat that does nothing to deter Sanji from his intended course of action. Instead, the blond steers them backwards until they’re through the bathroom doorway and Zoro’s back has hit the wall on the opposite side of the short hallway that leads to this area.

Unable to remember the last time he’d been so thoroughly kissed, Zoro temporarily loses the plot. He completely forgets where he is and what he’s doing, albeit not who he’s doing it with. He also forgets why he shouldn’t be.

The sound of a sword starting to slide free of its sheath is the only warning he gets. If he wasn’t so in tune with his blades he probably would have missed it, and thereby failed to realize what Sanji’s other hand had been doing.

Sanji lets out a growl when Zoro’s hand closes around his wrist, effectively stopping him in his attempt to take Wado. He bites Zoro’s bottom lip in retaliation, but the swordsman barely acknowledges the sting.

“Don’t even fucking try it,” Zoro snarls, finally succeeding in breaking the kiss. Sanji follows him, however, finding him unerringly with his mouth and going in for another while Zoro tries to shove him away with his free hand.

“Come on now, Marimo, you can’t blame a boy for trying,” Sanji says mockingly. Nipping at Zoro’s lip again, he leans back just enough to let their eyes meet, and the grin he gives is purely animalistic. “I never agreed to go quietly into the night, and you were stupid enough to leave my hands free.”

His words haven’t fully registered when Zoro feels a dangerously long leg come up and sweep his feet out from under him. He flails as he starts to fall, reaching out blindly to grab Sanji’s wrist when the man turns to run.

They go down in a tangle of limbs. Zoro nearly smacks his head off a tiny decorative table in the hallway, while Sanji sends a vase flying with a flailing kick. They grapple with each in the small space available, each of them trying to wrestle the other into submission as they roll across the floor.

They’re making enough noise that Zoro’s surprised someone hasn’t come to check on them, but maybe this isn’t that sort of hotel. Maybe it’s one where the staff pride themselves on being discreet, and are used to people getting up to all sorts of affairs in the rooms. Either way, no one comes, and he’s therefore left to deal with Sanji on his own.

Sanji that is, who’s not going down without a fight. He’s as wild and savage as he had been when Zoro had first found him, gouging, clawing, biting, and kicking his way to freedom. At one point he even spits in Zoro’s face, heedless of the fact that it doesn’t do anything to stop him.

The fight spills out into the main room, knocking over furniture and leaving holes in the plaster walls from them slamming each other into them. The sofa Zoro had been eyeing earlier gets overturned, and a near miss occurs when Sanji almost kicks him through the front window.

That kick turns out to be Sanji’s undoing, however. It shoves Zoro away from him, yes, but it also, for the first time during the fight, gives him enough room to pull one of his swords free. His hand finds Enma first, and he doesn’t hesitate to charge forward with her in hand.

Sanji sees him coming and turns to run, but he trips over the upturned legs of the couch. The motion sends him crashing to the floor, where he lands sprawled on his back, and Zoro is quick to fling himself on top of him.

“That was cute,” Zoro pants, turning Enma sideways, such that her blade is resting across Sanji’s throat. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d be willing to lower yourself to pulling a stunt like that.”

Sanji brings a hand up to curve around Enma, but doesn’t exert enough pressure to have her cut into his skin. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do to keep from going back to that place,” he hisses. “I’d let you fuck me a hundred times over if it meant the difference between staying free and winding up back in a cage.”

“I’d make it worth your while,” he adds, a completely twisted grin spreading across his face as he bucks his hips up underneath Zoro. “Come on, you can find another way back to your friends, and you can have a spectacular lay in the process. What’ve you got to lose?”

“Fuck you,” Zoro spits, pressing down harder with Enma, hard enough that she’s on the verge of drawing blood. “You can say or think whatever you want about me, but I am not the kind of person who takes advantage like that. You know I can’t let you go, but I’d never touch someone who didn’t want it. Not like that.”

Sanji stares at him, his eyes narrowing like he’s searching for something, until his expression clears and he lets out a frustrated groan. “Goddamnit, what’s the matter with you?” He demands. “You’re supposed to be a wild, bloodthirsty murderer who’s loyal only to the man holding his leash. How did all the newsreels get you so wrong?”

“What are you talking about?” Zoro asks, confused. “I’m just me.”

“Yes, and just you is supposed to be an animal,” Sanji mutters, thumping his head against the floor a few times. “The Demon of the East, leaving a trail of bodies wherever he goes with no care for the innocent and no concept of right or wrong. You’re not supposed to have morals.”

He says the last word like it’s a personal affront to him, like Zoro’s not playing fair by refusing to live up to whatever reputation he’s inadvertently garnered here in the North. Zoro has no idea what to do with this.

“I’m taking you in,” he says finally. “That’s the job I was hired to do, in exchange for payment in kind. I’ve told you a thousand times that it’s not personal, and I’ve tried to be as respectful towards you as possible. Meanwhile, you’ve flat out told me that you’re guilty of the crimes you’re accused of. Given all that, I don’t see how I’m the one in the wrong here.”

Sanji gives him a smile that nowhere near reaches his eyes. “Maybe you don’t,” he admits, “but I’m sure you can at least understand why I’d keep fighting you. I don’t want to go back.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have done what you did,” Zoro tells him. “Or at least,” he’s willing to add, seeing as he’s a known lawbreaker himself, “you shouldn’t have been dumb enough to get caught.”

Sanji snorts, and in the motion Zoro can see that the last of the fight has finally gone out of him. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind for next time,” he says, closing his eyes with a sigh.

*****
“Fuck me, it’s just as ugly as ever. I swear the man has to be overcompensating for something.”

Those words are the first thing Sanji’s said all day, and they startle Zoro enough that he glances up at the horse. Sanji doesn’t notice, though, because he’s too busy eyeing the looming royal palace with distaste.

They’ve been able to see it off and on for a while now, but they’ve just rounded a bend in the road that gives them their first unimpeded look at the structure. The flag of Germa flutters in the breeze where it’s planted at the top of the highest tower, and Zoro can’t help but give it a stink eye himself.

“It is a little … overwrought,” he hears himself acknowledge, and Sanji snorts in apparent amusement.

“Just like its owner,” he says with a sigh. “Goddamnit, but I really did hope I’d never wind up back here. This is going to be a miserable experience.”

“Still, needs must and all that,” he adds, sitting up higher in his seat. “Alright, Mossball, if we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right. There’s no need of both of us getting an unhappy ending, so it’s time for you to switch places with me.”

Wondering what the hell the other man’s playing at, Zoro draws the horse to a stop. “I don’t know what this latest game is, Curls,” he says slowly, “but I’m definitely not letting you take me in as your prisoner.”

“What?” He can see it as Sanji mentally rehashes what he’s just said and then shakes his head in exasperation. “No, I meant literally, you dunce. You’re going to want to be up here with me trailing along behind you down below.”

“And why would I want that?” Zoro asks, wondering where this is going. “We’ve been doing it this way for weeks now thanks to you being such a fucking menace to try and bring in.”

“I know that, dumbass,” Sanji replies, “but that’s the last message you want to send to Judge and the rest of them. If they get wind of how hard a time you had wrangling me, they’ll think you’re weak.”

“There’s not a damn thing about me that’s weak,” Zoro growls, his spine straightening.

“Yes, yes,” Sanji says in a placating tone. “Nevertheless, that’s still how they’ll interpret it.”

“Why?” Zoro asks. “Judge couldn’t catch you on his own, he needed me to do it. Obviously he knows you’re dangerous.”

This time when Sanji snorts, it’s loud enough that the echo startles a bunch of nearby birds. “Judge doesn’t know anything of the sort,” he says flatly. “I don’t know how to tell you this, Mossy, but you’ve almost certainly been played. You showing up when you did was probably a godsend to the old prick because it gave him a, shall we say, non-public way to track me down. One that wouldn’t risk the news of me having run off reaching the wrong ears.”

Zoro stares at him, feeling the skin between his shoulder blades starting to prickle. “What are you talking about?” He asks, a sense of foreboding starting to settle in his stomach. “Exactly what do you know that I don’t?”

“Marimo, I suspect the things I know that you don’t could fill a dozen or more libraries,” Sanji replies glibly. “Including in this instance. Don’t worry, though. If it helps at all, your conscience will be clear.”

“You’re not making any sense,” Zoro says irritably. “Either tell me what’s going on, or stop talking altogether.”

“I can do that,” Sanji says, “but only after you’ve switched places with me. I mean it, Zoro,” he adds when the swordsman crosses his arms over his chest and refuses to budge. “You’ve done me enough small courtesies throughout this mess that I’m feeling magnanimous. Let me return the favor.”

“By walking the rest of the way to the palace?” Zoro asks dubiously.

“That’s right,” Sanji confirms with a nod. “Trust me, it’s worth your while.”

Zoro rolls his good eye. “You tried to seduce me and kill me with my own sword less than a day ago,” he reminds the other man. “And now I’m dragging you to your doom, as you keep reminding me. Why should I trust you for anything?”

“Because,” Sanji says simply, “as much as I’d like to hate you for all this, it’s become increasingly obvious that you’re not on the same level of terrible as Vinsmoke Judge. There’s no point in both of us losing here.”

“You’re not making any sense,” Zoro starts, but Sanji’s already shaking his head.

“I know I’m not,” he says. “You’ll get your context soon enough, though, and you’ll be better off if you do it from a position of strength. So. Switch places with me.”

Zoro stares at him, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but all he gets is Sanji gazing coolly back at him. There’s no sign of deceit or deception, just a man who’s convinced what he’s suggesting is the right thing to do, and, more importantly, who expects Zoro to follow his lead.

“Fine,” Zoro says after what feels like a small eternity has passed. “I don’t see any harm in it, so have it your way. I’ll do you one last favor and let you walk into the palace on your own terms.”

“Hmph, well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Sanji says, his lips curving up in a sardonic grin. “If I had my way, I wouldn’t be walking in there at all. Or being brought in in any other manner for that matter.”

Nodding to acknowledge his point, Zoro moves in to begin untying him from the saddle.

*****
It feels strange being the one riding the horse after he’s spent weeks tromping along beside her. Truthfully he hadn’t minded much, what with how he had no particular attachment to such animals one way or the other, but he’d especially gotten used to plodding over the Germa terrain without his current superior vantage point.

If Sanji is equally out of sorts, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he walks beside the horse at a steady pace, with his bound hands tied in front of him and tethered to a lead held in Zoro’s hands. He’s acting shockingly docile when compared to last night, and Zoro can’t help but be suspicious that another escape attempt must be coming.

He keeps waiting for it as they draw closer and closer to the palace gates, a growing sense of unease brewing in the pit of his stomach. He feels like he’s being watched, and also like he’s got a target on his back.

“Honestly, the sooner I get out of this damn country, the better.” He mutters, his single eye flicking back and forth over the road in front of them, searching for whatever unknown enemy his senses are insisting is out there. “There’s something off about this place.”

“You have no idea,” Sanji murmurs.

His voice has lost much of its usual highs and lows the closer they get to the palace, and when Zoro glances at him now he’s staring up at the gates with a defeated expression on his face. It’s a look mirrored by his posture, as his shoulders are slumped as well.

Zoro opens his mouth to say something - what, he doesn’t know - but in the end closes it without anything coming out. It’s not like there’s any comfort he can offer, and it’s frankly absurd that he’s even tempted to try. He and Sanji aren’t friends. Truly, they’re more like enemies in any sense that matters.

The heavy gates are shut when they draw level with them, and Zoro’s confident that they’ve likewise been barred on the other side. It’s indicative of a level of paranoia that Luffy would never subscribe to, but he gets the feeling that Judge has far more reason to suspect an attack at every turn.

No one says anything when Zoro first brings the horse to a halt, Sanji following suit a couple seconds later. There are heavily armed guards visible on top of the battlements, although they’re up high enough they may be out of earshot.

“You could try knocking,” Sanji says helpfully, and it’s such a typically sarcastic quip from him that Zoro cracks a smile. “I mean, I doubt it would do anything, but it’d be kind of funny to see.”

“I’m sure someone’ll be along in a minute,” Zoro assures him.

It’s a statement that turns out to be predictive in nature since, maybe thirty seconds later, a panel slides open near the base of the gate, revealing yet another guard seated behind some sort of glass barrier.

“State your name and business,” he says in lieu of a proper greeting.

Potentially precarious situation be damned, Zoro isn’t going to tolerate that kind of attitude. Rolling his eye so that the guard can see exactly what he thinks of him, he leans forward over the saddle horn and lets his mouth twist up in a grin that’s caused more than one enemy to wet themselves.

“Roronoa Zoro,” he announces, his free hand drifting to Wado’s hilt in a pointed gesture. “Go tell your king that I did what he asked and now he owes me a ride home.”

Up until this point, the guard’s eyes have been fixed on Zoro. They drift towards Sanji following his announcement, however, and Zoro doesn’t miss the subtle way they widen. Nor does he miss the faint intake of breath.

For his part, Sanji doesn’t so much as blink. Rather, he stares back at the guard with his shoulders straight and his head held high, a faintly disdainful twist curling his upper lip.

“I - I see,” the guard says finally, his attention remaining locked on Sanji. “If you’ll kindly wait a moment, I’ll have a messenger sent to alert the king while we get the door open.”

“You do that,” Zoro says, unsurprised when the panel slides shut again almost immediately. “Was it something I said?”

Sanji’s resulting snicker is the only answer he gets, and Zoro leans back in the saddle, resigned to having to wait a bit for the Germa soldiers to get themselves sorted out.

Happily, they’re not left sitting out here for long. By his estimation no more than five to ten minutes have passed before a clanking sound signals the removal of whatever’s barring the gates in back, and the doors start creaking open.

Zoro won’t say he loves the feeling of stepping into the Germa courtyard, not when he doesn’t have a single soul in this place who he can trust to watch his back. Unfortunately, the only way out in this case is through. He needs to safely deliver Sanji to Vinsmoke Judge, so that he can collect on his reward and get out of here.

A page dressed in the grey on grey of Germa’s livery comes to take the horse after Zoro’s dismounted, and a handful of guards approach to offer to take carriage of Sanji. Zoro’s quick to snarl at them to back off, however, that same sense of unease from before telling him he needs to see this through.

Those same guards fall into step around them, forming a sort of barrier as they’re led through the twisting hallways of the place. Aside from a handful of women in maid’s uniforms the only people they pass are soldiers, and Zoro feels the hair lift off the back of his neck at the sheer number of them. He wonders if it’s because Sanji is truly that important of a prisoner, or if something more sinister is going on.

The last time Zoro had been here, Judge had met him in a private study that had housed only the two of them. He’s half expecting to be brought to the same space, and in this he’s destined to be disappointed. The guards lead them to a towering set of doors that can only be the entrance to the throne room, and Zoro has to fight a sudden urge to spit at the thought of being put on display.

“Couldn’t we - ?” He starts to say, but one of the guards - the insignia on his tunic indicating that he’s of a higher rank than the others - hushes him with a raised hand. “Fine. Whatever.”

The guard eyes him warily for a beat, but in the end nods his head in apparent satisfaction. Letting his hand fall down, he motions to two more guards who are standing in front of the doors, waiting patiently for the men to haul them open.

As expected, the space inside is revealed to be an opulent throne room, lined with portraits of kings and nobles from bygone eras on one side and rows of stained glass windows on the other. A plush red carpet trails from the doorway, along the floor, and up the steps to where the massive throne itself is located, and candles rest in the chandeliers over their heads, the lights flickering in their holders.

Judge is seated on the throne, no surprise there, but what catches Zoro off guard is that he’s not alone. There are five smaller seats located at the level just below the king’s, and four of them are occupied.

Ignoring Judge for the moment, Zoro allows himself to take in the three men and lone woman who are watching him with cool detachment. Their brightly coloured hair serves as a momentary distraction, but it’s not long before he notices familiar, sharp features, icy blue eyes, and distinctively curled eyebrows.

“What the - ?” He hears himself start to say, but Judge is already clearing his throat.

“Commander Roronoa,” he says, steepling his fingers in front of himself and leaning forward with a nasty smile on his face. “I see you’ve found my missing son.”

*****
Zoro doesn’t bother trying to hide his surprise. “Come the fuck again?” He says, ignoring the scandalized noises several of the guards make. “Your what now?”

“My son,” Judge repeats, like he thinks the issue is Zoro being hard of hearing. “Sanji.”

“Right, okay, I guess I did hear you the first time,” Zoro says. “Is there a reason you didn’t think to share that little detail with me before you sent me after him?” He demands. “Or a reason you didn’t tell me yourself?” He adds with an incredulous look at Sanji.

Who sneers in response. “Fuckface there is mistaken,” he says, his tone poisonous and his mouth curling into a snarl. “I’m no son of his, and he’s certainly no father of mine.”

Judge clicks his tongue from up on the throne. “So disrespectful,” he says. “Not to mention disobedient. You’re nothing like your sister and brothers.”

“Yeah, that much I’ll take as a compliment,” Sanji mutters, shooting a glance at where the other four people - his siblings presumably - are still seated. “Bunch of brainwashed monsters, the lot of them.”

None of the brothers flinch at this, but the sister tightens her hands slightly where she has them folded in her lap. Zoro can’t say for sure, but he doesn’t think she’s overly happy that they’ve made it back.

“Alright, hold on a minute here,” he says, wanting to cut things off before they all get caught up in what is apparently a family squabble of epic proportions. “Why didn’t you tell me I was hunting some runaway prince?” He demands. “Do you have any idea how many times I was tempted to kill him while dragging him back here?”

“How very lucky for you that you didn’t give into the urge,” Judge says calmly. “Sanji may be an abject failure in essentially every respect, but you killing him would have put a serious wrench in the plan I need him to complete.”

“I’m standing right here, you know?” Sanji says while Zoro is still trying to find his voice in response to the king’s declaration. “And, for the umpteenth fucking time, I am not marrying her.”

“You are,” Judge retorts, his large hands clenching into fists where they’re resting on the arms of his chair. “It’s not up for debate. You’re going to do your duty to this family by securing this alliance, which means, for once in your miserable life, you’re actually going to be of some use to me.”

“Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me,” Zoro groans, not bothering to hide his exasperation when the entire Vinsmoke family turns to look at him. “Are you telling me I just spent a month and a half crawling through the woods in Germa, all because of a damn political marriage that your kid isn’t interested in?”

“I suppose that is technically one way of putting it,” Judge admits after a moment’s pause. “My apologies for the deception, Commander, but if word had gotten out that he’d run off it could have put my alliance in danger while I was trying to wrangle him back under control again.”

It takes every ounce of willpower Zoro has not to retort that there’s nothing under control about Sanji. Even stuck as he is right now, in torn, filthy clothes and with his hands bound at the wrists, the fire is back in his eyes that says he’s about to raise hell.

He wonders, briefly, if Judge knows that. Then he sees the cruel glint in the king’s eye and has his answer.

Judge raises a hand, and Zoro finds his own instinctively shifting to Wado’s hilt. He eyes the guards surrounding them cautiously, half expecting to have a fight brewing, and is therefore surprised when all that happens is Judge snaps his fingers.

The pink haired woman - Sanji’s sister - stands at the noise. Her pale coloured dress flutters around her knees as she walks carefully down the steps to the floor, and something glitters in her hands as she moves across the floor.

“Hello, little brother,” she says as she passes Zoro and draws level with Sanji. “Welcome home.”

Sanji gives her a tired look. “Reiju,” he says with a slight incline of his head. “I’d remind you that I don’t consider this place to be home, but I’m frankly getting fed up with repeating myself.”

“The phrase has been getting a little overwrought,” his sister agrees. “But I do believe you mean it when you say it, as does Father. Unfortunately, that’s why certain arrangements have had to be made.”

Sanji stiffens at her words, and Zoro finds himself unconsciously mirroring the motion. Notably, the same can’t be said for the other princes. All three of them lean forward in what looks like anticipation, the blue and green haired ones with matching expressions of glee on their faces.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sanji wants to know, and his sister responds with an almost imperceptible gesture that sees half a dozen guards form a loose ring around the pair.

Shouldering their way in between Zoro and Sanji, four of the guards level the weapons in their hands, training all of them on the prince. The remaining two of them grab him by the elbows, forcing his arms up until his wrists are extended on display.

“What are you - ?” Zoro starts to ask, at the same time Sanji begins loudly demanding that the men get their hands off of him. He struggles in their grip, hissing and spitting as much as he ever had on the road, but it’s too late.

Reiju moves faster than humanly possible. One minute she’s standing recalling in front of the unfolding mess, and then the next she’s a pink and lilac blur, lashing forward with a tiny knife that she uses to cut through the ropes wrapped around Sanji’s wrists. Two faint clicks ring out before the pieces have even hit the floor, and all six guards step back as quickly as they’d arrived.

“What the hell are these?” Sanji snaps. Using the fingers of his right hand, he yanks at the gold bracelet that’s now encircling his left wrist, the matching one on the right rattling with the motion.

“Don’t,” his sister says sharply, briefly showing more emotion than she has since their arrival. “You won’t appreciate the consequences.”

“What consequences?” Sanji demands, stopping his prodding only when Reiju slaps his hand away. “What are these?”

“An insurance policy,” Judge says from his throne. There’s a look of delight on his face that makes Zoro sick to his stomach, makes him appalled that he could ever have thought this was just a matter of a son disagreeing with his pompous father. “They’re a gift from your future mother-in-law to be, to make sure that you make your way down the aisle like you’re supposed to.”

Sanji growls low in his throat, the sound echoing around the room. “Here’s an idea,” he suggests. “How about you stop beating around the bush and get to the point. What are these and why on earth do you think you can use them to control me?”

“They’re explosive devices,” the red haired brother says, speaking up for the first time. There’s no inflection in his tone and he barely moves in his seat, but the other two are writhing like this is the funniest thing they’ve ever seen. “If you try and remove them without using the correct key, they’ll detonate on impact.”

“Not to mention Father can trigger them whenever he feels like!” The green haired brother crows, rocking back and forth where he sits. “If you step out of line again, all it’s going to take is a press of a button and then boom!”

“Away go our little failure’s precious hands,” the blue haired brother concludes, slapping his knee with a laugh. “Good luck sneaking into the kitchens to cook all that worthless slop you love under those circumstances!”

“You’re assuming he’d even survive, Niji,” Green Hair adds now. “Knowing the weakling his body would give out on him and that’d be the end of things.”

“Alright, alright, that’s enough.” Holding up a hand to stop any further chatter, Judge likewise brings two items into view. One is obviously a key, the same kind of good as the cuffs, while the other is a long, black cylinder with a grey button on the top.

“Some of the wording may be a bit crass,” he notes, “but your brothers have summed the situation up well enough. You’re either going to do as you’re told from here on out, or the consequences are going to be dire.”

“Fuck you, you can’t do that!” Sanji snarls, and he’s forceful enough that Zoro’s willing to bet most people miss the faint tremor in his voice. “You have no right to treat people like this, you fucking monster!”

“Actually I have every right because I’m the king,” Judge snaps back. “My word is law in this country, and you should consider yourself lucky. I could do far worse to you if I wanted.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Sanji retorts. “Are you going to put me back in the cell? With a bigger version of the mask while you let the idiot trio come beat me in the freezing cold? I survived that when I was eight, I can do it again.”

Someone makes a horrified noise, and Zoro knows full well it’s him. He half expects Judge to turn on him too at this point, but the king is too busy trying to cow his furious son into submission.

“Putting you back in the cell is tempting, I’ll admit,” Judge is saying now, his eyes locked on Sanji, “but I’m afraid that specific location is currently occupied. I suppose I could always put you in the one next to it, of course, and perhaps Redleg would like the company.”

It’s like he’s thrown a bucket of water over a fire pit. Sanji goes pale, all the colour leeching from his face, and his blue eyes snap wide in horror. His mouth opens and closes a few times, before he’s finally able to rasp out, “What have you done?”

“Exactly what I just said,” Judge replies. “What? You don’t honestly expect me to believe you got out of the castle without help, do you? Someone had to have aided you, and that senile old pirate is the only one with the nerve to do it.”

“N-no, he wouldn’t! He didn’t!” Sanji insists, both his voice and his mannerisms taking on a frantic edge. “You’re wrong. Zeff had nothing to do with this! I left entirely on my own, and you’ve got to let him go!”

“Again, I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to,” Judge says coolly. “Redleg will remain where he is for as long as I see fit. If you behave, I might be inclined to show leniency at some point. If you don’t, the only reason he’ll be leaving that cell will be for a short trip to the executioners block. Do you understand?”

Sanji makes a low, broken noise, and Judge’s face hardens. “I said, do you understand?”

“Zeff didn’t do anything,” Sanji rasps. “Please don’t hurt him. Please.”

He sounds so entirely defeated, it’s like he’s a different person. Zoro doesn’t recognize the meek tone, the slumped shoulders, or the dull eyes. He’s watching a man be utterly destroyed in front of him, and there’s not a thing he can do to stop it.

“You have my terms,” Judge says them. “Either accept them, or whatever else happens will be in your head.”

“ … fine.” Sanji says, his eyes falling closed. “You win.”

“Excellent!” Judge says brightly, like he hasn’t just crushed his own child’s spirit with ruthless efficiency. “In that case I think it’s time you were escorted to your rooms. You’re filthy, and no one who carries the name Vinsmoke should be seen in such a state. Guards!”

At a snap of Judge’s fingers, the same guards from before move into action. They surround Sanji, not quite so pointedly this time, and herd him towards a different door, one smaller than the main entrance and off to the side.

It closes behind the man - the prince’s - back with a sense of finality, leaving Zoro behind with the rest of the royal family. Not knowing what to expect, he keeps his mouth shut but turns to meet Judge’s eye.

Who grins. “Now then, Commander,” he says calmly. “I do believe we have our own business to conclude.”

*****
Zoro’s so shocked by the events that transpire from Judge and Sanji’s initial meeting that he can’t find the words to express himself. In hindsight, this probably saves his life, seeing as his immediate desire to attack the king wouldn’t have gotten him very far where he’s trapped in the heart of the man’s domain, surrounded by enemies on all sides.

Instead, he listens in a daze while Judge prattles on about how much he appreciates what Zoro has done for him, and his reputation doesn’t do him justice. He thinks there might also be something about hoping these events might lead to stronger ties between their people, and it’s this that finally snaps him out of his stupor.

“If you want Luffy to be impressed by you helping me get back to our crew,” he says, squaring his shoulders and plastering a neutral expression on his face, “you should make good on your offer to get me out of here.”

“Not to worry, Commander,” Judge says, seemingly oblivious to the way Zoro grits his teeth every time he uses that term. “I ordered that arrangements be made as soon as you were spotted at the gates with my useless whelp in tow. I’m a man of my word, I can promise you that.”

But certainly not father of the year, Zoro thinks but doesn’t say aloud. Inwardly he’s also kicking himself for not pressing Sanji harder during their time travelling together. If he’d known what the other man was facing, he’d never have considered bringing him back here.

There’s nothing he can do about the past, though. If he’s going to have any hope of helping Sanji - and by god he’s at least going to try and undo the mess he’s unwittingly helped create - he needs backup, and the only way to get that is to get back to the people who never fail to rise to the occasion when he needs them.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he says then. “You have my thanks.”

“As you have mine,” Judge replies. “However, given the hour, I must ask you to avail yourself to our hospitality for a little longer.”

Zoro freezes where he’d been about to start to turn towards the door. He flicks his gaze over to the lower tier of seats, noting absently that Reiju has returned to hers and now looks as bored as her brothers. None of them seem to think anything is amiss, but he’s not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

“What do you mean?” He says finally. “Surely you have any number of ships here that can depart at any notice.” The palace backs up against the water, after all, and Germa is known for its navy above all else.

“We do, yes,” Judge acknowledges, “but they need time to properly supply themselves for the journey. Plus, you’ve done so much for me, it wouldn’t be right for me to have you leave without a proper meal and a good night’s sleep.”

“I can get those on the ship - ” Zoro starts, but it’s no use. Judge is already signaling to someone he can’t see, and shortly after that two maids in matching uniforms materialize to curtsy in front of him.

“These ladies will show you to the royal guest chambers,” Judge announces. They’ll see to it that you have fresh clothes and a place to bathe. After which, someone will collect you for supper. I must insist that you dine with me so that I can properly express my gratitude.”

For the briefest of moments Zoro considers such an opportunity to get the Germa king alone. If he has enough time he might be able to - but no. That’s a terrible idea. Even if he killed the man tonight, he’d still be surrounded by his men at arms and the four children he seems to favor. Not to mention he has no idea where Sanji is at this exact moment. His original plan remains the better option.

Smiling tightly, he nods and allows the two women to escort him from the room. They lead him through a series of twisting corridors until he finds himself deposited in a spacious, well furnished guest room that nevertheless manages to be as inviting as a prison cell. From there it’s into the bathroom for a soak that he doesn’t actually mind, and then he’s back out to get dressed.

He draws the line at putting on anything with Germa’s insignia or fashion. Instead he pulls on his cleanest pants and tunic, which happily are also the ones with the least wear and tear. Shortly after that he finds himself in a cosy dining room with Judge across from him and the table spread with all manner of delicacies.

There are guards at the doors he’d come though, as well as still more passing back and forth across the battlements that he can see through the window. Several servants are also standing by the walls, waiting to be summoned at the king’s call.

“Ah, Commander,” Judge says when Zoro’s ushered inside. “Please, please. Sit.”

Seeing no other option, Zoro follows the man’s beckoning hand and claims the chair at the opposite end of the table. Once he’s down, a servant immediately appears at his elbow to fill his empty wine glass.

“The bottle is from my personal stores,” Judge remarks as they both watch the man pour. “It was a gift from King Riku Doldo of Dressrosa. His country is known for its vineyards, but I’m sure you knew that since I understand you’re on friendly terms with the royal family.”

“We’ve met,” Zoro acknowledges, easily able to picture not only Riku, but also his daughter, Viola, and his young granddaughter, Rebecca. “You might say they owe my Captain a favor or two.”

“So I’ve heard,” Judge replies, grinning rapidly. “Given Monkey D. Luffy’s reputation, I’m somewhat surprised he restored the family to power after he ousted Doflamingo. Why not keep the territory for himself?”

“Who says he didn’t?” Zoro lies, while inwardly seething at the very idea that Luffy would ever do something like that. “I just told you, the whole family are in his debt, and they know how strong he is since he took down someone they couldn’t beat.”

“Ahhh,” Judge says knowingly. “I hear what you’re not saying, Commander. Your Captain sounds very … shrewd.”

“He’s a lot of things,” Zoro says simply. “It takes a while to get a handle on him.”

“No doubt,” Judge says. “Still, I hope one of those things is someone who’s inclined to return a favor when one’s been done in his stead. I won’t lie, I’m hoping that, now that we’ve met, our two … organizations can continue to engage in joint endeavours.”

“You want an alliance,” Zoro says, seeing no reason in beating around the bush. “What for?”

“What not for?” Judge replies nonsensically. “One can never have too many friends, Commander. Especially not with the strength of some of those in power.”

“Is that why you’re marrying your kid off?” Zoro asks, sensing an opportunity to gather more information and deciding to take it. “You said it’s a political marriage, so you must be gaining something from it.”

“And then some,” Judge says approvingly. “For all his faults, which, as I’m sure your time with him has revealed are legion, Sanji’s about to net me enough firepower to become the reigning power in the North. This wedding is the key to returning Germa to its former glory.”

Well that sounds terrible in every conceivable way. Given the crash course Zoro’s had this evening in seeing how Judge is willing to treat his own flesh and blood, he can’t imagine how he is with those he considers to be his enemies. An alliance that he thinks will make him strong enough to take on anyone doesn’t bode well.

“Is that so?” He says, leaning out of the way briefly so a servant can set a plate loaded with seasoned meats down in front of him. “Is the bride anyone I’d know?”

“The bride, I highly doubt it,” Judge says, nodding as he accepts his own plate. “Her mother, however, I’m sure you’ve at least heard of. Young Pudding is a Charlotte.”

Zoro very narrowly avoids spraying wine all over the table. “A Charlotte?” He parrots, clamping his mouth shut just in time to stop himself from finishing that sentence with the words Are you insane?! “You’re dealing with Big Mom?”

“I am,” Judge confirms. “Have you ever had the luck of meeting her personally?”

Not unless you count a transmission where she threatened to take my Captain’s head. “I can’t say that I have,” Zoro says aloud. “But I definitely know who she is, and what kind of reputation she has.”

Judge laughs. “I can assure you, every bit of said reputation is deserved. She and her family will make worthy allies for myself and my children.”

Except Big Mom doesn’t believe in allies outside of her own family, and she certainly doesn’t believe in equal shares. Anyone who’s ever dealt with her in a serious capacity knows that, just like they know what happens to those who don’t fall into line when she makes her way into their territory.

“She’s killed more than one of her husbands,” Zoro says, unable to stop himself. “And she’s even less attached to her in-laws if they stop being useful to her.”

“Perhaps,” Judge acknowledges and then just as quickly dismisses the notion with a wave of his hand. “But that won’t happen in this instance. “Big Mom has the numbers we need where her forces are concerned, but Germa has the technology and scientific might. It’s the ideal match.”

No it fucking isn’t, you moron! Zoro shoves a forkful of mashed potatoes in his mouth to try and keep that from showing on his face, all while he grows increasingly astounded by how oblivious Judge is to the trap he’s walking into. Charlotte Linlin isn’t going to leave a single Vinsmoke alive. She’ll use her numbers to take their technology by force, and the groom-to-be is likely to be her first target.

Zoro had thought the situation was bleak before, but it turns out it’s a thousand times worse. He needs to get Luffy and the others out here, and he needs to do it fast.

*****
Zoro suffers through about another hour with Judge before the meal is deemed to be finished. Once done, he stands up from the table and waves off the servant who offers to show him back to his room, assuring her that he can find the way after making the journey once already.

This turns out to be a mistake as the palace hallways suffer from the same issue that afflicts so many buildings he’s visited over the years - the one where the hallways seemingly shift at random, ultimately depositing him at the top of a set of stairs he doesn’t recognize.

Zoro eyes the stairs warily, noting how they’re steep and descend downwards sharply, curving to one side along a path that’s lit by flickering torches. They’re ominous looking to say the least, and he doubts that anything pleasant will be waiting for him at the bottom.

They look like the lead to a dungeon, he decides finally, but it’s this that spurs him onwards. Based on Judge’s comments earlier, there’s someone down here who might be loyal to Sanji, someone who might have information he can make use of.

He’s expecting there to be guards when he reaches the bottom, and hasn’t quite figured out how he’s going to bluff them when he passes the last step. Attacking Judge’s men probably won’t go well for him, after all, and killing them definitely won’t.

Only it turns out he needn’t have worried. There’s no one around when he makes his way down below, and the only sound is a steady drip of water coming from somewhere nearby. Dismissing this as being irrelevant, Zoro snags one of the torches from its holder on the wall and continues onwards.

Most of the cells are empty. He passes unit after unit that is bare of any kind of prisoner, many of which look like they’ve been that way for quite some time. It’s not until he reaches the very last one that he’s greeted by the sight of another human being.

It’s a man, the bristling mustache tells him that much without issue. Older than he’s expecting, given that the guy is supposedly a friend of Sanji’s, and clearly someone who’s no stranger to hard living if the leg that ends below the knee is any indication. His eyes are sharp when he looks up, however, and he stretches languidly when he catches sight of Zoro.

“And who the hell are you then?” The man’s voice is rough with disuse when he speaks, but he doesn’t look cowed in the slightest. In fact, he looks more annoyed than anything else. “You’re not one of Judge’s goons, I know that much. His lot have too much spit and polish in comparison to the likes of you.”

Well, his age may not suggest a possible friendship with Sanji, but his attitude certainly does. It’s like hearing from the younger blond all over again, right down to the disdainful expression.

The man continues watching him with an expectant look, and Zoro belatedly clears his throat. “Uh, I’m - um, Roronoa Zoro.” He manages to stutter out. “I don’t know if you’ve heard of me or not.”

“As a matter of fact, I have,” the man replies, pausing momentarily to let out a hacking cough. “What’s the Demon of the East, right hand to Emperor Monkey D. Luffy, etc etc doing in the bowels of Germa?”

Zoro chews on his bottom lip, unsure of how to answer. “I think I’m looking for you,” he says finally. “Are you the guy they call Redleg? The one who’s friends with Sanji?”

Between his age, his size, and his missing leg, Zoro would never have assumed the prisoner could move fast, and it’s a mistake he soon regrets. The man is across the space of his cell in the blink of an eye, one of his hands shoved through the bars and wrapped around Zoro’s throat before he realizes what’s happening.

“You’d better have a damn good reason for speaking my boy’s name, swordsman,” the man growls, his tone promising pain and dismemberment with every word. “And you should know I’ll gladly snap your neck before I tell you where he is.”

“I’m here to help him not hurt him!” Zoro rasps, pawing at the man’s wrist with his free hand as he fights for air. “And I know exactly where he is! He’s upstairs with a pair of bombs strapped to his wrists while Judge waits to sell him off to Charlotte Linlin.”

The man’s eyes widen and his hand goes slack in surprise, giving Zoro enough time to wriggle free and duck back out of reach. “What the hell are you talking about? How did that bastard get his fucking hands on him again?”

“Uhh … ” Zoro says, drawing the sound out a little too long based on the way the man’s eyes narrow.

“You used to be a bounty hunter, didn’t you?” He says, his voice rife with venom. “And a pretty damned good one if the stories are true. What’s someone with that skill set doing asking about my son?”

“Your son?” Zoro echoes. “Isn’t he one of Judge’s kids? I thought that was the whole point of this mess?”

The man snorts, viciously. “Blood doesn’t mean jack shit where family is concerned,” he says, his mouth working like he wants to spit. “I did more to raise him than that other asshole ever did, so like hell am I letting him get any of the credit.”

“Fine, whatever,” Zoro says. The situation is quickly spinning out of his control, and he needs to get it back on track. “You know Sanji then. What can you tell me about this place? How’d you get him out the first time?”

“Yeahhh,” the man says dryly. “If you think I’m giving you any information like that you are sorely mistaken. I had nothing to do with him escaping, and that’s all I’ll say on the matter.”

“You’re lying,” Zoro says, positive of that much. “Look, I’m trying to help here. Judge conned me into hunting Sanji down by telling me he was a wanted criminal, and now I find out that’s a load of horseshit. Judge is the real monster, and he’s also an idiot who’s trying to find himself an in with Charlotte Linlin. He’s playing with fire, and it’s Sanji who’s going to be the first one to get burned if we don’t do something.”

“We?” The man echoes, looking at Zoro like he’s lost his mind. “Boy, you just as good as admitted that you sold my kid back to the Vinsmoke after he’d finally broken free. Like hell is there any sort of ‘we’ in this endeavour.”

Zoro has to fight a sudden urge to yank out his own hair. “I already told you, Judge played me,” he stresses. “I wound up in Germa due to circumstances outside of my control, and he offered to help me get back to where I belong in exchange for hunting down a wanted criminal for him. It seemed like a fair trade at the time.”

“Not for Sanji,” the other man retorts. “Do you know what Judge has done to him over the years? Or what he’s let those other monsters of his do? All because the poor brat had the nerve to be born normal, without any of the modifications Judge tried to build into him.”

Now it’s Zoro’s turn to repeat someone. “Modifications?” He parrots, his stomach churning. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” the other man replies. “Among other things, Judge is a scientist, and he’s obsessed with perfecting the perfect soldiers. He’s experimented on all of his children, trying to turn them into emotionless killing machines. It worked in four of five cases. Well,” he pauses, sounding almost annoyed that he has to correct himself, “more like three and a half. The sister has a bit more humanity than the rest.”

“The sister,” Zoro growls, “is the one I watched strap a pair of explosive cuffs to Sanji’s wrists. As far as I’m concerned, she’s the worst of the bunch.”

“That’s because you don’t know anything about Germa,” the man says coolly. “If you did, you’d know that Reiju still has some emotions, some humanity, but she has no free will where Judge is concerned. She can’t disobey him. Mind you, the other three can’t either, but they also don’t have the capacity to care.”

Zoro thinks he might be sick. “And people say I’m barbaric.”

“You handed an innocent man over to a monster, and didn’t think to ask twice about it until it was too late,” the man replies coolly. “You’re not exactly batting a thousand.”

“Fair enough,” Zoro agrees, and he thinks, just for a moment, he might see something that looks a little like approval in the man’s eyes. “So why don’t you help me do something about it?”

“Like what?” The man asks.

Zoro sighs. “Like, for starters, you tell me your damn name and how you actually know Sanji.”

*****
The man’s name is Redleg Zeff, and it turns out he’s an ex-pirate turned chef following the loss of his leg in a storm. He’d been hired by Queen Vinsmoke Sora not long before her death, and had ruled over the palace kitchens from then until his recent incarceration.

“She was a hell of a woman, that one,” Zeff says, admiration heavy in his voice as he talks about the late Queen. “Far better than the likes of Judge deserved, and both braver and smarter than the bastard ever gave her credit for.”

“She’s the reason Sanji isn’t like his brothers,” he continues when Zoro makes an impatient noise. “You see, Reiju was born normal, and Judge didn’t start experimenting on her until she was about two or three. Sora had no reason to suspect anything there until it was too late, but she was ready for him to try even earlier with the boys. Judge forced her to start having procedures when she was still carrying them, and she took something to try and counteract it.”

“Counteract it how?” Zoro asks, and Zeff shrugs.

“No idea, she never told me,” he says. “Judge was apparently wild, though. Both because whatever it was kept Sanji from being like the rest of them and it made her too sick to have any more children.”

“This is horrifying,” Zoro mutters, fiddling with Enma’s hilt. “All of it.”

“No shit,” Zeff snorts. “I damn near lost my lunch when she first told me everything, and it took everything I had not to go try to kill Judge myself.”

“You should have,” Zoro says. “It’d have been no less than he deserved.”

“I know,” Zeff replies, “and if the opportunity ever arises for me to correct that oversight, I can assure you, I will. Unfortunately, that’s looking increasingly unlikely these days.”

“Never say never,” Zoro replies, “but keep going. Tell me everything you think might be worth knowing. And I need to know how you got Sanji out.”

“I’m getting to that,” Zeff snaps, back to looking annoyed. “But you need the background first. You see, just because Sanji seemed normal on the surface, doesn’t mean Judge gave up right away on making him turn out like the rest of them. He put that kid through more training and lab tests than any dozen men should have survived, and got more and more pissed off when nothing worked. I suspect that’s why he turned a blind eye when the other monsters started beating on him. He thought the poor kid deserved it for being a failure.”

Zoro remembers the way the blue haired brother had uttered that word back in the throne room, and a growl tries to rip its way out of his throat. “Judge doesn’t have a clue what he’s talking about. There’s nothing failed about him.”

“Trust me, I’m well aware,” Zeff says, “but all Vinsmoke would do is laugh if he heard you say as much. He thinks Sanji’s useless, and always has done. All because the kid has a heart too big for the rest of him, and all he’s ever wanted to do in life is feed people.”

Zoro blinks at this. “What do you mean?”

“I mean he’s a natural born cook,” Zeff clarifies. “Always has been. He used to drive Judge crazy by sneaking into the kitchens to try and experiment with recipes. Plus, he was always feeding the mice and birds and suchlike. Used to piss Judge off to no end.”

“He cooked for his mother too, the poor thing,” Zeff says, quieter now. “He used to sneak away to her rooms when he could, once she became bedridden, and he’d bring her some of whatever he’d cooked up that day.”

“That was how I met him, of course,” he adds, pausing momentarily to shift into a more comfortable position. “I was already ruling the kitchens by that point, and I’ll be damned if I didn’t notice the way ingredients kept disappearing at odd hours.”

“But you didn’t rat him out?”

“Of course not,” Zeff snorts harshly. “Even after I figured out specifically who it was that was invading my territory. I’m a firm believer in the idea that food should never be withheld from anyone, so I let the kid do as he pleased. Then, once he caught on to the fact that I wasn’t going to turn him into Vinsmoke, I started teaching him too.”

“Okay, so that’s how you know him,” Zoro surmises. “How’d you get him out? And why?”

Zeff snorts again. “The why’s easy. Because he’s mine, and any parent worth their salt is going to do whatever possible to ensure their child’s health and happiness.”

Zoro makes a sceptical noise at this, but Zeff doesn’t blink. “When Sora - the Queen - knew she was getting near the end, she asked me to look out for him since no one else was going to do it. I told her she didn’t even have to ask, but I’ve kept my word regardless. I trained him, gave him a safe place to hide when I could, and then I smuggled him out of the palace after news of the engagement broke.”

“Alright, but how?” Zoro asks, beginning to get exasperated. The old cook’s story is interesting and all, but he’s avoiding the actual pertinent details. “Quit dancing around the issue, would you? Tell me what you did to get him out.”

Zeff’s eyes narrow, and Zoro finds himself caught in a heavy gaze that feels like it’s peeling him apart bit by bit. The man is clearly searching for something, and Zoro doesn’t know what to do to help him find it.

But find it he must, however, because eventually he sighs and leans back in his seat, the back of his head resting against the stone slabs behind him. “It may or may not look like it, but this place is a veritable rabbit warren of passageways, both out in the open and not. If you know where to look, there are multiple tunnels leading in and out. Unfortunately, most of them are sealed up these days.”

Contrary to popular belief, Zoro’s not actually a complete idiot. “Only most?” He asks, catching the unspoken implication.

Zeff gives him a look that might just be considered approving in the right light. “Only most,” he confirms. “And it just so happens that one of ‘em comes out in a storage room that’s attached to the kitchens. It took me longer than I’d care to admit, but after a while I was able to clear it out so he could use it.”

“And you stayed behind,” Zoro notes. “Why? There wouldn’t have been anything left for you here with him gone.”

“No shit.” Zeff’s ensuing eyeroll speaks volumes. “But it was more important to me that the kid have a fighting chance. This,” here he knocks his pegleg heavily against the floor beneath him, “would’ve slowed him down in ways I couldn’t justify.”

Zoro thinks back to the gut punched look on Sanji’s face when he’d learned that Zeff was now trapped in the palace cells, and winces. “I bet that idea went over real well with him.”

“It went over exactly as well as you would expect,” Zeff confirms. “But a perk of being the parent in a parent/child relationship is that when you decide to sacrifice yourself for the other half, they get to suck it up and live with it. Emphasis on the live part.”

“Or at least so I thought,” he concludes with one last glare in Zoro’s direction. “Until someone came along and fucked it up.”

“I said I was sorry!”

“Sorry’s not good enough,” Zeff retorts. “You’ve got all the information I have now, so what are you going to do about it?”

Zoro considers this. “Do you know when the wedding is supposed to take place? And is it happening here?”

He’s betting it is. Knowing Big Mom she’ll use it as a way to sneak as many of her people as she can into the heart of Judge’s territory, and then she’ll strike before the ink is even dry on the marriage certificate.

“From what little I’ve been able to gleam since I’ve been stuck down here, the wedding’s in about two month’s time,” Zeff says. “And yeah. As far as I know, it’s happening in Germa.”

“Good,” Zoro replies. “I can work with that. That’s plenty of time for me to get back to Luffy and convince him to head this way.”

Zeff’s eyebrows shoot up. “Come again?” He says, sounding strangled. “My hearing must be going because it sounded like you just implied you’re considering an all out war with Germa. And Big Mom.”

Zoro shrugs. “We’re already on bad terms with her,” he says, the sound of her mocking laughter ringing in his ears once again. “And as far as I’m concerned, Judge has crossed me too. That’ll be enough for Luffy. I’ll take the ride Judge has offered me in exchange for bringing him Sanji, get back to my crew, and then come back again with everyone we have on hand. Judge won’t know what hit him.”

“It won’t be that simple,” Zeff insists. “You’ll be facing not one but two separate armies. And Judge won’t hesitate to use Sanji as a hostage if he realizes you’re here for him.”

“Then we’ll make sure we free Sanji first,” Zoro says. “We can use the tunnel you mentioned to sneak a smaller force into the palace before any fighting starts, and that’ll be that. Can you draw me a map or something so that we can find the outside entrance? Or better yet, you may as well just come with me now and you can lead us there yourself when the time comes.”

“Absolutely not,” Zeff says flatly, crossing burly arms over his chest when Zoro blinks at him. “Are you stupid?” He asks when Zoro’s confusion only grows. “If I mysteriously vanish at the same time you leave, Judge is going to be nothing if not suspicious, which will in turn put Sanji in even more danger.”

“No,” he shakes his head resolutely, “I’ll be staying right here until the time comes. Although I’ll thank you kindly to have someone come get me out before the actual fighting starts. I want to have a word or two with Judge about his parenting technique.”

“It’s a deal,” Zoro says, relieved to have at least a semblance of a plan forming. He’s always better when he has a goal to work towards. “Then I guess just try not to die until I can make it back.”

Zeff sneers at him through the bars of the cell. “That much I can do.”

*****
“And just where the hell have you been?!”

Exhausted from having spent the last few weeks on one of Germa’s smaller courier ships - not to mention the events that had preceded that specific trip - Zoro winces when the shrill demand reaches his ears. He’d hoped that he’d have a moment to himself before the interrogation started, but apparently no such luck.

“Well?” Nami demands, her hands on her hips and her dark eyes flashing as her voice pitches impossibly higher. “We’ve been looking for you for months! We thought you were dead!”

“Oh please, you did not!” Zoro protests, always one to continue digging his own grave even when he knows better. “I’ve been gone way longer than this before and no one assumed I was dead then.”

Nami’s eyes narrow impossibly further, but it’s Usopp who manages to speak first. “That’s only partly true,” the marksman says, raising his hand like a kid in school who’s trying to get the teacher’s attention. “Usually when you wander off on us, we still hear rumors about where you are and what you’ve been doing - ”

“People documenting the path of destruction as it were,” Brook cuts in with a laugh.

“ … but we didn’t have anything like that this time,” Usopp concludes, shooting the skeletal musician a dirty look at his interruption. “Nami’s right. We were kind of concerned.”

“Not all of us,” Jinbe notes from where he’s sitting cross legged on a bunch of cushions, nursing a cup of tea that’s dwarfed by his massive hands. “I’ll remind you that one of our party has remained entirely calm throughout Zoro’s absence.”

As one, every head turns towards a much smaller man who’s also lounging on his own pile of cushions. He’s got a leg of some unidentified meat in one hand, and as Zoro watches, he takes a massive bite from it, not bothering to finish chewing before he speaks.

“I told you all he’d be back,” Luffy says, bits of meat visible between his teeth when he grins. “Zoro was just off doing Zoro things. You know how he likes to do that every now and again.”

A number of eyes roll and exasperated sighs ring out. Then there’s a thudding sound as Nami digs her fist into the top of Luffy’s head, heedless of the way the younger man yelps.

“Finish chewing your food before you talk,” the navigator says tiredly. “It’s disgusting when you don’t.”

Luffy whines as her knuckles continue digging into his scalp, but nobody takes him seriously. Nami gets away with her stunts because he lets her. If he cared about stopping her, he would.

Having apparently deemed the spat between captain and navigator no longer of consequence, Chopper wanders into view out of the corner of Zoro’s eye. Carefully adjusting his bright pink hat where it sits crookedly on his head, he peers up at Zoro with large eyes and a suspicious expression.

“So how mad am I going to be when I see whatever you’ve done to yourself this time?” The young doctor asks. “I bet you’ve racked up all manner of injuries in the last three months, and knowing you, you didn’t treat any of them properly.”

Well versed in this song and dance by now, Zoro just shrugs. “It wasn’t that bad,” he says, truthfully as far as he’s concerned. “A few bumps and bruises, but nothing to write home about.”

Needless to say, Chopper doesn’t look convinced, but whatever response he wants to make is interrupted by Robin leaning forward. With one of her arms curved around Franky’s much larger one, she gives Zoro an intrigued look as she opens her mouth. “I have to say, I’m far more curious as to why you arrived on a Germa ship. It’s rare for them to venture this far south.”

“Yeah, and aren’t they also supposed to be seriously bad news?” Usopp wonders. “What were you doing playing nice with them? And with the royal family, no less. Robin said she saw their personal crest on the sails.”

“It’s a long story,” Zoro says. He senses that now is the best opportunity he’s going to get to lay out the whole mess, and pitches his voice in a serious tone that makes even Luffy sit up straight. “The main thing you need to know is, I fucked up and I need to fix it.”

Judging by the looks on the crew’s faces, no one likes hearing him say that all that much. Squaring his shoulders, Zoro therefore starts to talk.

The whole sordid mess takes him long enough to get through that the sun is considerably lower in the sky than it had been when he’d started. Shadows have begun to darken the room, and everyone who’d been eating and drinking upon his arrival has long since stopped.

Minus Luffy, but he doesn’t count.

Somber expressions abound by the time he finally gets to the end of his tale, and the atmosphere in the room feels charged. None of the Strawhats care for unnecessary cruelty, something that Vinsmoke Judge’s actions have in spades.

“It’s a bad idea,” Usopp says, the first to speak up after Zoro’s done. “Everyone knows Germa’s tech makes them dangerous enough as it is, but if you throw Big Mom into the mix then all bets are off.”

“In that case, one might argue it’s even more important to step in,” Robin’s quick to counter, her mouth turned down in a frown. “An alliance between two forces like that could seriously upset the global balance of power.”

“Except it’s not going to be an alliance between the two of them,” Brook points out next. “From what we know of her, Big Mom will most likely refuse to be a team player and attack the Vinsmokes herself.”

“It’ll be the same thing in the end,” Jinbe says while Robin nods at him. “Speaking as someone who knows Linlin better than the rest of you, she won’t destroy anything she doesn’t have to. She’ll take out Judge, yes, and anyone in power who doesn’t immediately sign on with her, but the rest she’ll absorb.”

Usopp makes a face. “That … sounds bad.”

“Because it is,” Jinbe confirms. “I have very minimal experience with Germa’s technology, but if even half the rumors about their weapons are true, we don’t want them anywhere near Linlin’s hands.”

“So we’re doing this then?” Franky asks, rubbing the hand not wrapped around Robin’s through his hair. The motion unsettles the tinted glasses perched on the top of his head, but he doesn’t seem to notice, too busy caught up in the ongoing discussion. “We’re going to throw ourselves into a fight with not one but two powerful enemies at the same time?”

“I mean,” Robin smiles at him indulgently, “it’s not like we’ve never done that before, dear.”

“Yeah, fair enough,” Franky agrees with a grin. “It’s not the first time and it probably won’t be the last.”

“Unfortunately.” Nami groans, but she looks more resigned than upset when she turns to Luffy. “We’re going to need more than just us, though. If we’re really going to take on a pair of armies, we’re going to need one of our own.”

Luffy wrinkles his nose and then grins. “I guess it’s a good thing we’ve got one after what happened in Dressrosa then, huh?” He says with a laugh. “Oh and oooh! We can invite Torao and Jaggy!”

“Ugh, Law yes, Kid no,” Nami says, making a face. “He’s a nightmare to deal with and even worse at listening to others during a fight than you and Zoro.”

“Oi!” Zoro protests at hearing his name on a list like that. “What did I do?”

“You mean aside from being the one to get us into this mess?” Usopp asks dryly, and Zoro glares at him.

“No one’s telling you you have to come along, Longnose,” he grumbles. “If no one’s interested then I’ll figure something out on my own.”

Usopp blinks at him, and he’s not the only one. “Zoro, you can’t do that,” Nami says flatly. “You’d get yourself killed.”

Zoro shrugs, refusing to agree with her, and she looks like she’s about to keep arguing with him when Luffy stretches out an arm and pokes her in the elbow. “It’s fine, Nami,” their captain says firmly. “We’re all going anyway, so you don’t have to worry about Zoro.”

From the look on Nami’s face, she doesn’t agree, but she falls silent anyway.

*****
If Zoro had thought seeing his crew again felt good, that’s nothing when compared to finally being back sailing on the Thousand Sunny. The ship of dreams truly is home at this point, and he has his first good sleep in months when he’s able to crash in his usual bunk.

And nor does that feeling dissipate as they continue sailing. Even knowing exactly what they’re heading towards and how much of a mess the mission is likely going to be, he’s the calmest he’s been in ages.

Or at least he thinks he is. Some people apparently have different views on the matter, which is a fact Zoro learns when the hatch leading into the crow’s nest is unceremoniously thrown open one afternoon and Nami pokes her head through.

“What the hell do you want?” Zoro asks, staring at her over the ridge of the weight he’s been lifting. Nami rarely comes up here outside of her scheduled watch shifts, preferring instead to spend most of her time either working in the library or sunbathing out on the deck.

Undeterred by this or his poor greeting, however, she continues hauling herself up the ladder until she’s all the way into the room. Once that’s done, she closes the hatch behind her, and crosses to sit on one of the benches.

Resting one leg on top of the other, she leans back on her hands and gives Zoro a calculating look. As always, it immediately puts him on edge. “What’s going on between you and this Sanji character?”

Not having expected such an inquiry - although in hindsight he has no idea what he had expected - Zoro frowns. “The fuck kind of question is that?”

Nami snorts, and her expression transforms into one that says don’t fuck with me, Swordboy as clearly as if she’d said the words aloud. “It’s a perfectly valid one that I expect you to answer,” she replies. “What happened between you and this guy that you’re not telling us?”

“Nothing,” Zoro says, and means it. He hadn’t mentioned the bit about Sanji kissing him as a distraction technique, figuring no one needed to know that, but otherwise he’d told them everything. Right down to the way the man had almost kicked his ass on multiple occasions. “You heard the whole story.”

“Uh huh,” Nami drawls, clicking her tongue disprovingly. “I don’t believe you.”

“Well I can’t help that,” Zoro says flatly. “Believe what you want to believe, I guess.”

“Is he hot?”

For the first time in years, Zoro nearly drops a dumbbell on his foot.

“What?” He yelps, setting the weight down quickly before he accidentally does damage with it. “Why the fuck do you want to know that?”

“That doesn’t sound like a no,” Nami says, her eyes pinching in the way they do when she’s starting to get a headache. “Please tell me we’re not about to go to war with not one but two insane warmongers because you want to get laid.”

“Obviously not,” Zoro retorts, appalled. “When have you known me to ever do something like that?”

Now she gives him a flat look. “Beautiful men make you stupid. It’s kind of a thing with you.”

“It is not,” Zoro snaps.

“Fine,” she sighs, surprising him by relenting. “He is strong, though. That much is clear from all the trouble he gave you in bringing him to Judge in the first place. Not to mention he sounds stubborn, fiercely determined, and like he’s kind of a bitch. All of which are things that make you stupid.”

“I … ” Zoro starts, and then trails off, his mouth flapping uselessly when he realizes he has nothing to say to any of that.

Nami sighs again. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” she says, her tone indicating that she can’t believe he’s done something so stupid. “You don’t want to just save him because of your fuck up, you want him period.”

“What I want doesn’t matter,” Zoro replies. He tells himself he’s not acknowledging that she’s right, but rather that he’s changing course to get her off his back. “Even if what you’re saying was true, which it isn’t, the guy hates me, and rightfully so. Saving him and taking down the Vinsmokes won’t change that. It’s just the right thing to do.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t argue with you on that part,” Nami says, closing her eyes briefly and letting out a groan. “This Judge character sounds horrible.”

“He is,” Zoro confirms, feeling his lips try to pull back off his teeth in a snarl. “And we all know Big Mom’s no better.”

“Yeah,” Nami says, and Zoro’s now positive that headache has started to set in. “This whole experience is going to suck, isn’t it?”

Zoro shrugs. “Speak for yourself,” he tells her. “Me, I’ve been itching for a good fight for a while and this might be exactly what the doctor ordered.”

Nami rolls her eyes. “Not if the doctor is Chopper,” she notes. “He wants as little to do with this mess as I do, and he certainly doesn’t want anyone getting themselves killed during a fight that wasn’t ours to begin with.”

“Nobody’s forcing you to come along,” Zoro points out, but Nami’s already shaking her head.

“You know I’m as willing as the next person to throw in with you on this,” she says simply. “Even if the next person happens to be Usopp,” she adds with a tiny, impish smile. “We’ll get the job done like always, and hopefully we won’t lose anybody in the process.”

“Although, if I do wind up dying nobly for the cause,” she continues, a gleam in her eye making Zoro think she’s going to demand some kind of monetary compensation even in death, “I’m going to need you to be the one to tell Vivi.”

Zoro winces at the thought of Nami’s viciously strong willed lover and her no doubt volcanic reaction to the idea of the navigator getting hurt. “Maybe try really hard not to die,” he suggests, and Nami snorts at him.

“I’ll just do that, why don’t I?”

*****
The gradual drop in temperature is the first sign that they’ve reached the northern waters. It’s not so bad as to require them to turn around, but it’s noticeable enough that none of them miss it, or the way the skies start to darken.

“Man,” Usopp comments as the first sight of the Germa landmass comes into view. “What is with this place? It’s like even the atmosphere itself is getting depressing.”

“I told you it sucked,” Zoro says from where he’s standing a little ways away. A quick glance at the sniper shows that he’s absently rubbing his hands up and down over his own arms, like he’s fighting off a sudden chill. “I don’t know why you didn’t believe me.”

“I did believe you,” Usopp mutters crossly, “but that doesn’t change the fact that experiencing it in person is still a different beast. I don’t care what anybody says, something just feels off here.”

“Truthfully, Usopp, I’m inclined to agree with you,” Robin says as she appears on the deck to join them. The dark haired woman stares at the Germa coastline for a long moment, her mouth pursed in a frown, and then she shrugs. “But we’re here anyway, so we might as well make the best of it.”

Usopp shoots her a tired look. “We’re about to start an unprovoked fight with two of the most dangerous powers on the seas,” he says, and Zoro doubts it’s the cold that’s making his teeth chatter. “There’s no making the best out of any of that.”

“Of course there is,” Robin replies with a smile. “All we have to do is win.”

“Oh, right,” Usopp grumbles. “That’s all.”

“Indeed,” Robin says. “But regardless, I came up here to get a good look for myself. I assume we’re heading for the inlet Nami and Jinbe have charted out?”

“Yeah,” Usopp says, peeking up slightly. “Whatever they’ve tracked down, they think it should be secluded enough to let the Sunny make landfall undetected. The plan is for us to disembark and head for the palace to free Sanji, while the armada will follow a little later to provide a distraction.”

“Not just a distraction,” Zoro reminds him. “We need our fleet to take out Germa’s and Big Mom’s.”

Twisting his head slightly, he glances backwards so that he can see the ocean behind them. Somewhere out there are all the ships they’ve been travelling with, but the Sunny has moved on far enough ahead that they’re no longer visible.

They’re out there, though, that much he knows. Dozens of ships filled with their allies. Hopefully it’ll be more than enough people to get the job done, and with minimal casualties at that.

Turning back to his crewmates, Zoro finds them both watching him. It’s something that’s been happening increasingly as of late, and he’s getting tired of it. “What?” He demands, probably a little more harshly than necessary. “Have I got something on my face?”

“Not unless you count your stoically brooding expression,” Usopp says brightly, and then he flinches when Zoro growls at him. “What, I meant it as a compliment!”

“No you didn’t,” Robin says, not bothering to hide her amusement.

“Traitor,” Usopp huffs.

“You’re both annoying,” Zoro tells them, unsurprised when they both snort at him. “How much longer before we make land, do you figure?”

“Nice segue,” Usopp says, still grinning faintly. “But if you really want to know the answer, you’re better off asking Nami or Jinbe. This is their show at the moment.”

Like hell is Zoro asking Nami anything. She hasn’t stopped smirking at him since their conversation in the crow’s nest. If that’s the price he’ll have to pay for knowledge, he’ll remain in ignorance, thanks.

Usopp eyes him knowingly for a second or two, but then huffs out a sigh and reaches for the spyglass that he almost always has hooked to his belt. His clever fingers deftly pull it free, after which he springs the entire thing open in a single movement.

“I may have forgotten to mention it, but I’m actually out here for a reason,” he notes in the wake of Zoro and Robin’s matching raised eyebrows. “Nami asked me to take a look and see if I can spot any signs of Big Mom’s fleet as we get closer. Based on Zoro’s info she should have beaten us here, but we want to make sure.”

“Wouldn’t it technically be better if we did get here first?” Zoro wonders. “That way we’d only have one enemy to deal with instead of two.”

“Except that would present more problems in the long run,” Robin says before Usopp has a chance to respond. “Partly because we don’t want to exhaust all our resources against the Vinsmokes only to have the Charlottes show up fresh for another fight, but also because we definitely don’t want to have the Charlottes be able to come up behind us and give us a battle on two fronts. It’ll be vastly preferable to have them both already contained in the same spot.”

Able to see the logic in this argument, Zoro nods and then glances at Usopp. Cocking his head to the side, he waits a beat as his friend carefully scans the area ahead of them with his spyglass, after which he pointedly clears his throat. “Well?”

Usopp’s resulting groan is all the answer he needs. “She’s here,” the younger man says tiredly. “Not only can I see that massive flagship of hers, but I’m counting another two dozen smaller ships flying Big Mom’s colours.”

“And have they started fighting each other yet?” Robin asks. “If Big Mom has begun her takeover already, there’s bound to be signs of a struggle.”

“No, there’s nothing,” Usopp says, making Zoro release a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “The waterfront looks as calm as any I’ve ever seen.”

Pulling the spyglass away from his face, he shoots Zoro a grin that’s only mildly edged with nerves. “It looks like we’re right on time.”

*****
“Ugh, I want it noted that crawling through trees, vines, weeds, and whatever other assorted bits of flora and fauna are out here was not what I had in mind when I agreed to help Zoro in this insane venture of his. What are we even doing all the way out here?”

“You know what we’re doing, Witch,” Zoro grunts as he uses Kitetsu to cut through yet another patch of overgrown brush that seems intent on entangling him in it. “We’re heading for the hidden passageway that’s going to let us sneak into the palace. Emphasis on hidden. If it was easy to access it wouldn’t have that qualifier.”

“Also,” he pauses to glare at Nami when the rest of her words sink in. “It’s not my venture. We’re all in this together.”

“Because you asked us to help you,” Nami retorts, ducking carefully under a branch that Franky’s now holding out of her way. She gives the large shipwright a grateful nod, but quickly goes right back to complaining. “Plus, you’re the one who brought us the news about Judge and Big Mom teaming up in the first place. We’d have been living in ignorant bliss if you hadn’t.”

“Right up until the news broke that Big Mom, now with the entirety of Germa’s weapons technology at her disposal, was rampaging across the northern continent and bound to continue spreading her way across the globe if nobody stopped her,” Robin points out as she passes her.

The archeologist takes several steps along the remains of a fallen log, leaping nimbly back to ground once she reaches the end. Then she turns to give Nami a wink. “Looking at it from that perspective, I think it’s fair to say that we’re lucky Zoro brought his news when he did.”

Nami mutters something irritated sounding under her breath, but Zoro fails to make out the exact specifics. He doesn’t miss the way she squares her shoulders, though. Or the way she marches forward with more surety in her step.

Shooting Robin a grateful look - Nami’s increasingly vocal complaints have been wearing away at his nerves - Zoro likewise keeps moving. He strides along in silence for the next several minutes, stopping only briefly to unhook Chopper when his medical bag gets snagged on a branch.

“Thanks, Zoro,” the doctor says, his high pitched voice sounding more disgruntled than anything else. “This really is more of a maze than a path, isn’t it?”

“Kind of,” Zoro agrees, “but given how long we’ve been walking, we’ve got to be getting close to the entry point.”

As if someone were listening to him, there’s a loud whoop from up ahead. Recognizing it for what it is, Zoro leaves Chopper to finish sorting himself out and charges through the brush until he stumbles over Luffy, who’s being held steady by Jinbe while Usopp and Brook work to pry open a heavy stone door that’s embedded in what must be an outer wall of the palace.

“You need to keep quiet, Luffy,” the helmsman is saying as Zoro approaches, his voice a deep rumble that emanates from his chest. “We don’t know how well sound carries out here, and there are bound to be guards up on the wall. Probably more than usual, in fact, given the company that Vinsmoke Judge is currently keeping.”

The annoyed noise Luffy lets out at this is hardly surprising, and Zoro doesn’t envy Jinbe for being the one on wrangling duty tonight. He’s played that role himself many a time, and it can definitely be a pain in the ass.

Drawing up to the door, he nods at Usopp and Brook. “Do you two need a hand?”

Wiping sweat from his brow, Usopp strains against one end of the formation while Brook pulls at the other. Eventually the marksman sags, however, and he ushers Zoro forward with a hand.

“It’s wedged in pretty tight,” he says, panting from the exertion. “I wonder if your boy did something to seal it shut when he originally closed it behind him.”

“He’s not my boy, or my anything,” Zoro growls in return. There’s little heat to it, though, and instead he focuses on sizing up the problem that’s facing them. Then he shrugs and pulls Enma free. “We’re not planning to stick around after the fight is over, so who cares if we leave the place exposed by just destroying the door?”

The crew have all arrived by this point, and no one makes a move to stop him. Taking that as his cue, Zoro ushers Usopp and Brook out of his way, and raises the sword.

Enma sings as she slices downward in a single arc. She cuts through the rock formation as easily as a knife through butter, and within seconds Zoro’s returned her to the scabbard at his waist while all nine of them gaze into the tunnel revealed in her wake.

“Well,” Usopp says in the ensuing silence, “I guess that’s one way to deal with the problem.”

“This place looks creepy,” Chopper murmurs, rubbing his hands together nervously. “And really dark. Someone brought the torches, right?”

“Franky has them,” Robin confirms, nodding at her partner. “I would suggest waiting to light them until we’re further inside, however. Lest someone up above spot them and become curious.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” Usopp agrees. “So let’s get moving then. The sooner we’re all in the tunnel, the sooner we’ll be able to get some light.”

Seeing no reason not to, Zoro moves to heed his words. Bracing his hands on either side of the entranceway, he uses them to get a feel for how much space he’s working with, and then steps forward.

*****
During his initial conversation with Zeff, Zoro had assumed that the tunnel Sanji had used to escape was a lone path that stretched from the kitchen where it began to the store room where it came out. In this he turns out to be mistaken, though, and it quickly becomes obvious that there’s an entire network of tunnels that crisscross all over the palace.

“I take it back,” Nami says when they come to a halt in a section that’s able to hold all nine of them at once. “Outside wasn’t the maze, this place is. I could spend weeks down here and still probably not have time to map it all.”

“Indeed, I suspect you’re right,” Robin muses. She’s one of the crew who’s been elected to carry a torch, and she holds it higher now to try and give them more light. “It’s a veritable rabbit warren down here.”

“True, but perhaps that’s for the best,” Jinbe says, holding his own torch aloft. “Having us emerge in the kitchens was always cause for concern given how public a location it is. Maybe this way we can come out somewhere more secluded.”

“In fact,” he continues on, “if I may make a suggestion, why don’t we try heading for the palace dungeons before we go anywhere else?”

“Uh, because that’s the last place any of us wants to be?” Usopp says with a nervous laugh. “We didn’t come here intending to get captured, so let’s not make it easier for the enemy by heading to the best spot for them to lock us up.”

“With all due respect, Usopp,” Jinbe says patiently, “we don’t have a map of the palace, and Zoro, the only one us who’s been here before, saw very little of it during his stay. We’re essentially wandering around blind down here.”

“Plus, even if we weren’t, I don’t really think Zoro’s sense of direction is one we should be relying on,” Franky notes absently, shrugging when Zoro glares at him. “No offence.”

Zoro opens his mouth to snarl back regardless, but stops when Jinbe raises his free hand. “Setting aside that particular detail,” the large man says, “what I think everyone is forgetting is that the dungeons are the last known location of the only ally we have in here. If Redleg Zeff is still imprisoned in them, then we can set him free and have him lead us to where we need to go.”

“That’s … actually a really good idea,” Nami says thoughtfully. “But what are the odds one of these tunnels comes out where we’d need it to?”

Jinbe shrugs, his torch flickering due to the motion. “I admit it’s not a perfect plan,” he says, “but it’s the best option we have at the moment. And if worse comes to worst we can always try and grab someone in a secluded area to have them tell us where we’re heading.”

“Let’s just try the first plan,” Nami says delicately. “Zoro, I’m assuming the dungeons are in a lower level, yes?” At Zoro’s answering nod, she snaps her fingers. “Alright then. Let’s see if we can find a tunnel that’s going down instead of up, and go from there.”

To Zoro it still sounds like they're going to be wandering around in circles, but honestly compels him to admit that navigating both on land and at sea isn’t his forte. It is Nami’s though, which means she’s as good as anyone to follow down here.

They start moving again in short order, but now Nami’s in the lead, with Robin right behind her holding her torch. The rest of them follow in single file, trudging along as quietly as they’re able until Nami brings them to a halt with a raised hand.

“The path is splitting off up ahead.” She says, her voice pitched low so that it reaches the crew but hopefully not anyone outside who might overhear. “One keeps going level, but the other is definitely heading downwards. That’s the one I’m going to take, okay?”

Various murmurs of quiet assent travel along the line they’ve formed. Nodding decisively, Nami then starts moving again, and it becomes obvious right away that they’re now travelling deeper into the palace.

The path gets colder the further along they walk, and there’s a dampness in the air that’s unmistakable. Since he remembers hearing water coming from somewhere when he’d first met Zeff, Zoro chooses to take that as a good sign and continues onwards until Nami brings them to a stop again.

“We’ve run out of tunnel,” the navigator says, her voice barely above a whisper. “There’s a door and I can’t hear anything on the other side when I press my ear to it. Should I try opening it up?”

“Open, yes. You, no.” Zoro says, shuffling around both her and Robin until he’s the one in the front. “Since we don’t know what’s waiting for us out there, it’s better that we have one of our heavier hitters go through first.”

“That sound okay to you, Captain?” He asks, twisting so that he can see Luffy where he’s been walking near the center of the pack.

As he’d expected, Luffy responds with a nod and a toothy grin. “You know it is,” he says, shoving his hat back until it hangs around his neck by its strings. “Get it open and let’s see what’s on the other side.”

Not having to be told twice, Zoro spends a few seconds searching in vain for a door handle, only to give up when it becomes obvious there isn’t one. Shrugging, he then braces his shoulder against the rock slab in front of him and pushes.

Unlike the earlier door, there’s no give at first. Suspecting that this door hasn’t been open for a far greater span of time, Zoro pauses momentarily to regroup and then shoves again even harder.

This time he feels the barest hint of movement, so he repeats the motion once, twice, three times. In each instance he feels it give way a little more, until finally something creaks and a sliver of light appears as an outline around the door.

Grinning, Zoro gives it one last shove and soon finds himself staring at a familiar corridor.

“Well damn,” he says aloud. “We found the fucking dungeons after all.”

*****
Zoro doesn’t go far as he waits for the rest of the crew to climb out of the tunnel after him. He takes a few steps up and down the corridor, trying to ascertain which way will lead to the stairs and which to the back where Zeff had been locked up, but otherwise sticks close so that he can watch everyone emerge.

Brook’s the last person out, his thick curls brushing against the edge of the tunnel as he’s forced to duck before he can jump down. He lands lightly, without making a sound, and cranes his neck around to eye the now vacant tunnel. “Should we try and close it up behind us, do you think?”

“I don’t see much point,” Robin says after everyone considers the idea for a moment. “Besides, depending on how the mission goes, we may want an easily accessible escape route and we have no idea how difficult the door may be to open from this side.”

“What if a guard sees this and sounds the alarm, though?” Usopp asks. “There’s no way anyone who stumbles over this isn’t going to be suspicious.”

“Yeah, but we’re not exactly planning to hide the fact that we’re here once we track down, Sanji, Bro,” Franky reminds him. “Plus, they’re going to know something’s going on once the shooting starts.”

“Well I guess I can’t argue with that logic.”

“You shouldn’t be standing around arguing period,” Zoro cuts in impatiently. “The longer we wait around down here, the longer it’s going to take to do what we came here for. Let’s just find Redleg and get moving.”

“The stairs leading out are that way,” he adds, gesturing to where he’d confirmed them to be. “Which means,” now he shifts to point in the opposite direction, “his cell is down here. Come on, it’s the one at the very end.”

Not willing to wait and see if anyone follows, he starts walking down the corridor, keeping his ears and eye tuned for the sign of anyone else being down here. He doesn’t find any, at least not until he comes across the cell he’d been looking for.

Zeff looks worse than he had the last time Zoro had seen him. His cheeks are sunken in an obvious sign that he’s lost weight, his skin has a pallor that suggests it’d be clammy to the touch, and both his hair and mustache droop lankly. His eyes are bright when he looks up, however, and he wastes no time in pushing himself to his feet.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he says, his voice raspy with disuse. The words are followed by a hacking cough that sets his whole body shuddering, and he braces himself against the bars of his cell until they pass. “Look what’s crawled its way back to Germa.”

“I told you I would,” Zoro reminds him, his good eye flitting over the man’s form, trying to catalog any signs of injury. “And I brought help, just like I promised.”

“I can see that,” Zeff acknowledges. His blue eyes sweep over the assembled pirates until they finally land on Luffy. “My my, Emperor Strawhat himself. You know, I expected you to be taller.”

Luffy grins, obviously amused by the old man’s tone. “Good things come in small packages,” he says cheekily. “So, you want me to get you out and you can show us where Sanji is? We’re here to save you both. Plus we want to kick Judge and Big Mom’s asses.”

“What, all nine of you?” Zeff asks dryly. “Far be it for me to complain, but I don’t see how that’s going to be enough to stack up against not one, but two separate armies. The Charlottes arrived three days ago,” he concludes derisively. “Judge came down in person to gloat.”

“Judge is an idiot,” Zoro says with matching attitude. “Luckily, none of us are. There’s only nine of us here, sure, but we brought the entire fleet and then some.”

Zeff blinks. “Would you care to run that by me again?” He says slowly. “Do you mean to tell me this isn’t just a rescue mission? You’ve really come to challenge the entire damn alliance?”

“It seemed like the more … practical course of action,” Robin informs him. “Plus, we knew we’d need allies to help us in our escape.”

“You lot are crazy,” Zeff says, gaping at them through the bars. “You’re verifiably certifiable.”

“Yeah, probably,” Zoro agrees, crossing his arms over his chest, “but we’re still your best bet of getting out of here alive. Sanji’s too. So, are you going to help us or not?”

Zeff gives him a narrow eyed glare. “Don’t you take that tone with me, boy. You, more than anyone else in this room, are still on thin ice, and I intend to give you a thorough dressing down if we’re both still alive once the dust settles.”

“Having said that,” he continues barreling on before Zoro even has a chance to defend himself. “Of course I’m in. You may all be insane, but insanity is probably what it’s going to take to see this through. Therefore, get me the fuck out of here.”

“Not you, bro.” One of Franky’s large hands lands on Zoro’s shoulders when he reaches for his swords, and the shipwright eases him back out of the way. “I’ve got stuff in my kit that should let me get that door open, and doing it my way will mean there’s no risk of him getting hit by anything in the process.”

“Aye, I vote for that option,” Zeff says, nevertheless stepping back out of the way. “I’d rather remain as unscathed as possible until the fighting starts, and I’ve never been a fan of getting hit with friendly fire.”

“Who is?” Usopp snickers as Franky gets to work.

Nobody answers him, and for the next little while the only sounds in the area are that of Franky working and Luffy shifting from foot to foot. The captain’s desire to get moving is as evident as Zoro’s own, and he shoots the man a tightlipped smile.

“Almost time,” he says, unsurprised when Luffy smiles back.

“Yep,” the dark haired man agrees. “Did you want to take on Judge while I handle Big Mom?”

Zoro feels his grin broaden into something that’s showing too much teeth to still be considered a smile. “Captain,” he says firmly, “you took the words right out of my mouth.”

*****
“I heard the guards talking earlier about how the two families will be having a private meal together tonight.”

Zeff doesn’t look much better out of the cell than he had in it, but he glares at Franky when he offers him a hand out and shakes off Chopper when the doctor tries to examine him. Straightening to his full height, he taps his peg leg against the floor a few times, before nodding decisively.

“A meal like that, as opposed to a full banquet, means that they’ll be in the Vinsmoke’s private dining room. It’s much smaller than the great hall, and will give a better atmosphere for that kind of gathering.”

“Great, so we know where they’re going to be,” Luffy holds up one hand, slamming the fist of the other against his open palm. “Then let’s go find them and kick their asses.”

“Not so fast,” Zeff says, raising his voice over the growing murmurs of the Strawhats. “We’re going to have to make a little detour first.”

“What? Why?” Frowning, Luffy peers at the old chef like he’d kicked a dog in front of him. “C’mon, Pops, we didn’t come all this way to wait to fight. We’ve got you out now, so let’s do this!”

Zeff gives him a look that instantly pins the younger man in place. “As much as I’d love for the apparent ass kicking to commence immediately, there’s another problem we need to deal with beforehand. Or did the idiot with the swords not tell you about the torture devices on my son’s wrists?”

“Uhh,” Luffy blinks, clearly confused, and risks a glance at Zoro.

“He means the bracelets, Luffy,” Zoro clarifies. “Remember how I told you about them? Judge put them on Sanji as part of his plan to keep him under control. They’re rigged to explode if he steps out of line.”

“Yes, that they are,” Zeff says icily. “Judge couldn’t quite hold back the urge to brag about them when he came to visit me the other day. Having said that, he was also stupid enough to tell me where he’s been keeping the keys.”

“Which is?”

“His private study,” Zeff says with a grunt. “So that’s where we’re headed. I’ll lead you there by way of the quickest route, and you kids will deal with anyone who’s unfortunate enough to stumble across us. Once we’ve got the keys, then it’s off to the dining hall. Sound good?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Luffy says before anyone else has a chance to speak. “Let’s do this.”

The dungeon itself remains deserted as they head for the stairs, but it’s at that point that their luck runs out. A quartet of guards are sitting at a table when Zoro shoves the door open, passing the time playing cards and drinking if the detritus is anything to go by.

Refusing to give them a chance to regroup, or worse, sound the alarm, Zoro is on them in an instant. Two of them fall immediately to Enma and Kitetsu, the third doesn’t make it halfway out of his seat, and the fourth dies while still trying to fumble his weapon free. Zoro barely spares him a glance as he falls.

“Gross,” Usopp says, wrinkling his nose. “But necessary,” he adds, raising his hands when Zoro glares at him.

Zeff emerges from the middle of the pack. Stomping over to observe the mess, he eyes the spreading pool of blood around the fourth and final guard for a beat, and then snorts. “Nice to see you’re not entirely useless, I suppose.”

“What?” He asks when Zoro gapes at him. “Were you expecting me to turn into a wilting flower at the sight of some dead bodies and a little blood? If so, I’ve got news for you, brat. I was killing men before you were born, and while I thought those days were behind me, it looks like they’re not.”

“Then they should be,” Zoro replies bluntly, shrugging when Zeff gives him an outraged look. “Don’t take it personally, but you’re old and you’ve been locked up for months. You’re in no shape to be fighting anyone, let alone trained soldiers.”

“You just let me be the judge of what I should and shouldn’t be doing,” Zeff says through bared teeth. “Now, come on. Vinsmoke’s study is this way.”

Zoro allows Zeff to take the lead since he’s the only one who knows where they’re going. He makes a point of sticking close, though, and Robin keeps time with him on the old chef’s other side. Between the two of them, they should be enough to deal with anyone the group stumbles over.

Unfortunately, the path to Judge’s study is long, and the damn room turns out to be at the top of a tower that’s lined with a twisting staircase. Zeff is visibly struggling by the time they reach their destination, and he sits down heavily in a chair as the Strawhats pile inside.

“You want to look over there,” he wheezes, flapping a hand in the direction of a portrait of Judge that also includes his children - albeit with Sanji noticeably absent. “There’s a safe embedded in the wall behind the painting. Odds are good that’s where he hid the key.”

Luffy yanks the painting off the wall without having to be told twice, and Franky steps in to examine the lock after him.

“This could take me a while,” he muses with a frown. “And by that it could take me all night or longer.”

“We don’t have all night or longer,” Zoro snaps. “The attack should be starting any time now, and we need to get to Curls before that happens so that Judge can’t try and use him as a hostage.” He glances at Zeff, who’s still slumped in his seat, his face grey. “I don’t suppose you know the code?”

Zeff cracks his eyes open just enough to give Zoro an exasperated look. “Even before he had me dumped in prison, Judge and I were never exactly the best of friends. No, I don’t know the fuckin’ code.”

Raising his hands in surrender, Zoro turns back to the rest of the group. “Then trying to get it open the proper way isn’t an option. I say we let Usopp and Franky try to blow the door.”

“Someone might hear that,” Nami says. “Assuming it works at all.”

“Hey,” Franky protests, affronted as he jerks a thumb in the direction of his own chest. “There’s nothing out there that I can’t blow up, sister. Plus, we took out all the guards on the way up here. There’s no one left to hear anything.”

“That’s a problem in and of itself,” Nami retorts, “but we can’t sit around arguing all night. If you think you can do it, then fine, do it!”

“Who died and made you captain?”

“Guys!” Zoro snaps, and Luffy’s thankfully quick to step in.

“Do what you have to do, Franky,” he says. “And Usopp, you help him.”

“On it,” Usopp says, already rooting through the bag that he keeps his slingshot materials in. “I think I’ve got just the thing.”

Zoro gets out of the way long enough to let the shipwright and marksman work, but he moves back in again before the dust has finished settling in the wake of the resulting explosion. Ignoring Usopp’s coughing, he shoves aside the remains of the safe’s door, letting them fall to the floor in favour of reaching for the contents.

“Got it,” he crow triumphantly when his fingers close over a key that’s the same golden shade as the bracelets. “This has to be it.”

“Great, grab it and let’s get out of here since someone was bound to have heard that.”

Nodding at the longnosed man, Zoro shoves the key in his pocket for safe keeping. As one, the group start heading for the stairs again, only to pause en masse when Zeff starts to flag.

“All of you quit staring at me,” the old man says raggedly, his sides heaving as he grips the wall with a white knuckled hand. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re exhausted, dehydrated, and malnourished,” Chopper counters. “Not to mention you’re of an age that’s far too advanced for the amount of exertion you’re putting your body through. You need to wait here and rest.”

“Hah,” Zeff retorts, but that simple exhalation is enough to set him coughing again. “God damnit!”

“You’re no good to Sanji if you try and fight in this condition,” Zoro says, aiming right for where he knows it’s going to hurt. “You’re going to be a liability that could make things worse for him.”

It may hurt, but that doesn’t mean it’s not effective. The glare Zeff gives him could blister the paint off the Sunny’s hull, but there’s an air of recognition in his posture.

“Alright, you win,” the old man says, sagging even further against the wall. “Go on without me, and I’ll catch up when I’m able.”

“You should just … ” hang back until everything is over, is what Zoro means to say, but the renewed glare Zeff gives him is enough to make him throw his arms up in surrender. “Fine,” he huffs, “but if you get yourself killed, I’m not taking responsibility for it, and I’m going to tell your kid how you refused to listen to reason.”

“He won’t be surprised,” Zeff says, and this time there’s a hint of mocking laughter when he starts coughing.

“Yeah well, not being surprised and not being pissed are two completely different things,” Zoro retorts. “I’ve seen his temper in action, and I imagine it’d only be worse if it had grief added to it. Please try not to die.”

“You’re not the boss of me, brat.”

Resigned to the fact that he’s facing a battle he can’t win, Zoro throws his arms up a second time and turns to the crew. “We need to keep moving,” he says. “Try not to let anyone slip past you who’ll come and murder the old man, but otherwise let’s get out of here.”

“He’ll be fine,” Luffy insists, bouncing up and down on his toes. “And we’ll take care of everything else, so that he doesn’t have to. Do you hear that, Pops? You let us handle this, and we’ll make sure you see your kid again soon.”

“You’d better,” Zeff grunts from where he’s now collapsed to sit on the steps. Zoro gives him a worried look that he waves off irritably, and he takes a moment to get his breathing under control. “Go find my kid,” he says firmly. “And if you get him out of this mess alive, I might just show you some gratitude.”

Under the circumstances Zoro very much doubts that, but he supposes he’ll take what he can get.

*****
Zoro lets Luffy and Jinbe take the lead after they get directions to the dining hall. Now is not the time for him to put up a fuss about who’s going to have a better chance of finding their way in enemy territory, and he just knows protesting would result in an argument. He therefore hangs back a bit, but not too far.

As expected, the closer they get to where the two families are taking their meal, the more guards they encounter. Enough shouting has taken place to have alerted their enemies that something is going on, which is why Zoro isn’t surprised to find people reaching for their weapons when their group finally bursts through the dining hall doors.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Judge shouts as the Strawhats pile into the room, trampling the last of the guards in their path. The Vinsmoke monarch is sitting at one end of a heavily laden table, but he rises from his seat as a result of the interruption.

Zoro takes a moment to survey those who are present in the room. With the current guards out of the way he counts six Vinsmokes - a shocked looking Sanji among them - and six Charlottes.

For the Vinsmokes it’s Judge, Sanji, and the rest of Sanji’s siblings. Zoro recognizes the latter four from that day in the throne room, and his mouth tightens as he remembers how they’d all stood by and allowed Sanji to be tormented. If he weren’t already gunning for Judge, he’d have something to say to them too.

At the opposite end of the table are the Charlottes. He spots Big Mom immediately, her stature making her impossible to miss. There’s also a petite brown haired woman who’s almost certainly the person who’s been chosen as Sanji’s bride, along with four of Big Mom’s most notorious sons.

Perospero, Katakuri, Daifuku, and Oven. Each of them formidable in their own right based on the stories Zoro’s heard, and a downright nuisance when all working together. Rumor has it that Katakuri might be prone to reason on occasion, but the rest are as nasty as their mother.

All told it’s not a great situation, but they’ve faced worse odds and lived to tell the tale. Hopefully that same luck will hold out for them today.

Having made it all the way to his feet by this point, Judge slams a heavy fist down on the table, causing a wine goblet to wobble and overflow. “I don’t know who the hell you people think you are, but you’re going to regret this intrusion.”

Big Mom makes a scoffing sound as she too climbs upright. “Vague threats won’t work on this lot, Judge,” she says, giving the other monarch a disdainful look before sweeping her gaze over to Luffy. “They’re too cocky for that. Hello, Strawhat. Have you come to make good on that threat to - what was it? Oh yes, kick my ass?”

Luffy gives her a bright, beaming smile. “You’re damn right I have,” he confirms, his eyes dancing. “And I’ve brought all kinds of people to help me do it.”

Big Mom snorts. “You could have brought every ally you’ve ever made in this world and it still won’t be enough,” she says. “You’ve obviously heard, but Germa and I have recently entered into an alliance. There’s no way you can stop both of us.”

“Do you want to bet on that?”

“Wait, wait,” holding up his hands to get everyone’s attention back on him, Judge gestures at where the two Emperors are glaring at each other. “You’re Monkey D. Luffy?” He demands. “What on earth has possessed you to come here and start a fight? Germa has never done anything to you, so from where I’m standing it would make much more sense for all three of our groups to sit down and see how we can benefit each other.”

“Not fucking happening,” Zoro snaps before either Luffy or Big Mom can say anything. He waits until Judge’s eyes are on him, briefly enjoying the way his mouth drops open in recognition, and then he pulls Wado from her sheath to point her at him. “You used me, jackass, and I don’t take kindly to that sort of thing.”

“That’s what this is about?” Judge all but screeches. “You’ve come all the way here to start a war because I lied to you?!”

“Partly,” Zoro replies. “I don’t like being played, sure, but I also really don’t appreciate being tricked into doing other people’s dirty work and hurting someone who doesn’t deserve it. We’re not just here to destroy this alliance, we’re here to fix my mistake.”

“You’re insane,” Judge says woodenly, his expression making it clear that he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You’ve come to start a war … over Sanji?”

“Well, really we came to stop Big Mom from being able to roll over entire continents with the aid of your weapons technology,” Usopp says brightly. “But saving Sanji is apparently required too. Nice to meet you, by the way,” he adds, nodding at the blond. “Zoro hasn’t shut up about you for the whole trip here.”

“Uh, thanks?” Sanji says, looking as confused as Judge. “I guess?”

Usopp gives him an affable nod, but falls silent when Luffy takes a pointed step forward. Their captain’s flip flops make a slapping sound as he slowly marches across the room, and all eyes are quickly drawn to him.

“So,” he says quietly. “Are we doing this?”

The room erupts into chaos. Big Mom launches herself at Luffy, moving with surprising speed, given her size. At the same time all four of her sons come streaking after her, with Katakuri pausing only briefly to shove their sister down behind the table to give her some semblance of cover.

Judge bellows in outrage as the two sides clash, and starts throwing out orders for his own children to join the fray. Most of them listen, but Sanji, apparently willing to seize whatever opportunity he can, turns on the Germa monarch instead.

“Curls, wait!”

Surging forward, Zoro ducks under a punch from Oven, relieved when Jinbe steps in to deal with the red headed Charlotte. This allows Zoro to keep charging towards Sanji, and he grabs him by the wrist as soon as he’s within reaching distance.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Sanji snaps, trying to tug his arm free. “I am getting sick and tired of you trying to manhandle me, Mossball. Let go!”

It’s been barely a month, but Zoro had forgotten just how much attitude the other man can infuse into a single sentence. Fighting hard not to roll his eye, he releases his grip and shoves his hand in his pocket instead.

“I’m not trying to manhandle you, dumbass! I’m trying to keep you from getting yourself blown up when Judge remembers those bracelets you’re wearing. Here!” He snaps, pulling the key free and holding it out. “Get those things off your hands first, and then come help us fight!”

Sanji stares at the key where it rests in the centre of Zoro’s palm, his jaw dropping momentarily. Then, to Zoro’s complete shock, he starts to snicker.

“Sorry, I - yeah, I know it’s not funny, but - ” He trails off helplessly for a second, still snickering. Then he reaches down to grab one of the bracelets and, to Zoro’s horror, snaps it off his wrist.

“Curls,” Zoro yelps, bracing himself for the inevitable explosion. Only it doesn’t come, and instead Sanji repeats the motion with the opposite hand, dropping the pieces to the floor where he then stomps on them with a booted foot. “What the hell?”

“Yeah, you’ve missed a few things while you were away,” Sanji says with a shrug. “For instance, just the other night I learned that Reiju never activated those damn things when she put them on me. I guess she couldn’t bring herself to go that far.”

“Damn,” Zoro breathes. “It would've been nice to know that before we wasted a fuckton of time crawling around this dump to try and find the key. Still, I guess this is better than the alternative.”

“You don’t say?” Sanji snorts. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a master of understatement? Or that you’re an idiot in general?”

“Hey!” Zoro says, affronted. “Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh to the guy who came all the way back here just to save you?”

“I mean - ” Feeling his face flush as Sanji’s eyes widen, he quickly tries to backpeddle. “Not just to save you, of course. There was a whole - the others were concerned about any kind of alliance between Germa and Big Mom. Robin and Jinbe said a bunch of - stuff about it upsetting the world’s balance of power and - yada yada, I don’t remember the rest.”

Sanji smirks. Zoro doesn’t like it. “You mean, you don’t remember the rest because you were too busy fantasizing about being my knight in shining armour?” He asks, the words coming out as more of a purr than anything else.

“What?! No!” Zoro yelps, pretty sure his face is on actual fire at this point. “Absolutely not! I’m not a fuckin’ knight, Curls. Armoured or otherwise. I came back because I owed you and I didn’t need or want that on my conscience.”

“Also,” he concludes triumphantly, one hand raised to better emphasize his point. “None of this would have ever happened if you’d just been honest with me in the first place. I wouldn’t have handed you over to Judge if I’d known what he was up to. So, really, you’ve got no one to blame for this mess but yourself.”

Sanji’s smirk fades, promptly being replaced by the scowl Zoro had gotten so familiar with during their time on the road together. He opens his mouth, blue eyes flashing, only to freeze when one of the Charlotte brothers - Perospero - goes flying over their heads courtesy of a hit from Franky.

Both Zoro and Sanji watch as the enemy soars across the room, his flight only halted when he hits the opposite wall and falls to the floor in a crumpled heap. He’s quick to start hauling himself upright, however, even though one of his arms is bent at a noticeably awkward angle.

Sanji takes a deep breath and points at Zoro with an imperious finger. “This isn’t the time or the place for this conversation,” he declares, “but once we’re done here, I promise I’m going to give you a piece of my mind. And after that, I’m going to kick your ass up one end of this country and down the other.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Zoro retorts, pulling Enma free to join Wado. “But you’re right, that can wait. Luffy asked me to focus on Judge while he takes care of Big Mom. Would you care to help?”

“No,” Sanji replies flippantly. “In actuality, I’d care to lead. Having said that, you’re welcome to come with me if you think you can keep up.”

“Jackass, you’re about to be eating my dust!”

They keep up the steady stream of bickering as the battle rages around them. No doubt having been alerted by the sounds of fighting, guards in both Germa and the Charlotte’s colours have arrived to help, and the fighting has spread out of the close confines of the dining room and into the surrounding hallways.

“This is utter chaos,” Sanji grunts as he sends a guardsman sprawling with a kick to the gut. Having experienced the force of those kicks himself, Zoro almost winces in sympathy, but tells himself anyone working for Germa probably deserves it.

“Chaos is kind of our stock in trade,” he admits, knocking two more guards away with the flat of a blade. “Also, we brought the entire fleet, plus a few friends, to help us with the attack, so I’m sure outside looks even worse than this.”

“As insane as that sounds, I’m glad to hear you’re taking this seriously,” Sanji says. He grunts as a soldier for the Charlottes cracks him in the shoulder with a butt of a spear, but is quick to return the favour with a heel to the face. Unlike Sanji, the enemy goes down and doesn’t get back up again.

“Fuck but those legs of yours really should be classified as weapons,” Zoro says approvingly. “Did Zeff teach you to fight like that?”

At the mention of his mentor’s name, Sanji blinks at him in surprise. “How did you know that?” He demands, ducking a wild swing from another guard and then kneeing the man in the gut. “I never told you about Zeff.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Zoro says, slashing out with Wado when the stumbling guard tries to get up again. “Zeff told me about Zeff. In between cursing at me for getting you into this mess and demanding that I fix it. I don’t think he likes me very much.”

“His bark’s worse than his bite,” Sanji says absently. He then vanishes briefly, diving forward to brace himself on his hands so he can take out a dozen charging men with a furious spin kick. “Exactly how did you two meet?”

Needing a moment to pick his jaw up off the floor, Zoro shakes his head, stabs a man who tries to attack him from behind, and turns back to Sanji. “I found him in the dungeons when I was here the last time,” he explains. “I wanted someone to tell me what was really going on, and knew there was no way I was going to be able to get near you. Based on what I’d heard in the throne room, he seemed like the best bet.”

“Was he okay?” Sanji asks worriedly. “Judge hasn’t let me go see him, and I haven’t been able to sneak away the whole time I’ve been back. All I’ve heard were rumours that my brothers enjoyed taunting me with.”

“He was okay then,” Zoro says, “but we also busted him out earlier. He looked pretty tired, and I’m betting our doctor is going to want to take a closer look at him once this is all over.”

“But he’s alive?” Sanji asks, his voice serious. “You mean it?”

“He is so long as he hasn’t done anything stupid in the last hour or so,” Zoro confirms, slicing through a guard who takes a run at Sanji while the blond is busy processing this. “Pay attention, Curls! I didn’t come all this way for you to get taken out by some nobody!”

Shaking his head, Sanji glares at Zoro and then lashes out at another of the seemingly neverending stream of soldiers. “I can take care of myself, Mossball,” he growls. “You just focus on your own targets.”

“I’m trying.”

Keeping up a running commentary, the two of them continue carving a path through the enemy forces until Sanji lets out a triumphant noise and points at a figure standing several yards ahead of him. “There he is,” he barks. “Trust the cowardly bastard to put as many of his men in front of him as possible when a real fight breaks out.”

Following Sanji’s arm, Zoro blinks when he realizes they’ve wound up in the throne room. Dozens of people - friend and enemy alike - have made their way inside, but only one has climbed all the way up to the throne itself and is encouraging the Germa soldiers with furious gestures.

“Does he not realize he’s making himself a more obvious target by standing out like that?” Zoro wants to know as he slows to a halt to better examine the situation.

Drawing up next to him, Sanji shrugs. “There’s dozens of men between him and us right now, and I’m not aware of any of your people being able to fly. I imagine he thinks the distance will be enough to protect him.”

“Then he’s never met our sniper,” Zoro grunts, well aware that Usopp could easily take the man out with a single shot from down here. Unfortunately, Usopp doesn’t seem to be one of the people fighting in this area, and nor is Franky, who’s guns don’t have as decent aim but should still be more than enough for a job like this.

“Please, that’s a mild annoyance at best,” Sanji says when Zoro explains the problem to him. “No offence to your friends, but I’d much rather be the one to take him out. This might surprise you, but he’s not exactly my favorite person.”

“You don’t say,” Zoro drawls. “But alright, here we go again.”

Sanji gives him a downright affable nod, and then they both launch themselves into the fray. Fighting side by side the entire time, they cut down anyone who makes the mistake of crossing their paths, not stopping until they’ve reached the base of the stairway that leads up to the throne.

Judge starts yelling increasingly frantic orders when he sees them coming, but it’s no use. A handful of the Strawhats and their allies - at least some of the Grand Fleet must have made landfall - close in behind them to keep them from being bothered, giving the swordsman and the prince a straight shot at their enemy.

“Stay back, both of you!” Judge shrills. “I’m warning you not to come any closer!”

Up until this point Judge has been standing about three quarters of the way up the staircase. Now, however, he backs up the few remaining steps, not stopping until he’s reached the throne itself, which he’s quick to scuttle around to put it between himself and the approaching men.

“Seriously?” Zoro says, eyeing the monarch as he hides behind his makeshift barrier. “This is getting embarrassing. Isn’t he supposed to be some kind of powerful warmonger king?”

“How many times have you told me that your captain isn’t the man the world thinks he is?” Sanji counters, holding Zoro’s gaze until he nods in recognition of the man’s point. “It’s the same for him. He’s used science and technology to conquer what he has, but he’s been hiding behind his weapons the whole time.”

“Including your brothers and sister?” Zoro asks, remembering what he’d heard about them.

“Those would be his most dangerous weapons of all, yes,” Sanji agrees. “A quartet of ruthless killing machines who have no choice but to obey him, and my greatest crime was that I didn’t turn out exactly like them.”

“You should have told me,” Zoro says then, heedless of Judge where he’s watching them like a cornered animal. “I asked you, more than once I asked you what you’d done to make him want to bring you in, and you played dumb every time.”

“Well excuse me for not realizing that the man who kidnapped me in the middle of the night just so happened to have a nobility streak a mile wide, Marimo.” Huffing, Sanji plants his hands on his hips and gives Zoro a world class stink eye. “By the time I clued into the fact that you might actually be trustworthy, it was too late, and I wasn’t about to see you wind up on the chopping block with me. What good would that have done?”

“You’re assuming we’d have gotten caught if we’d run,” Zoro replies with a shrug of his shoulders. “But the only way to have known that would be if we’d tried.”

“Except then Judge would have hunted us to the ends of the earth and probably killed Zeff in a moment of petty revenge,” Sanji snaps. “It would have been an absolutely idiotic risk to take.”

“Right because this is so much more rational,” Zoro says, flapping an arm to encompass the chaos around them. “I had to rally an entire damn army to come fix everything instead.”

“Well I didn’t ask you to do that!”

“I know! I did it because I wanted to!”

As far as declarations of intent go, Zoro thinks this one is pretty obvious, but Sanji still gapes at him like he’s lost his mind.

Or at least he does for a moment. Then he smirks, which Zoro still doesn’t like. “It was that good of a kiss, was it?”

And Zoro would like to protest, alright? He really would. Only it’s been a long few months, and he’s spent the entire trip back to Germa terrified that he might get here too late. All told, it’s apparently left him feeling a little more open than usual.

“The kiss wasn’t even the half of it,” he says tiredly. “It was everything.”

Sanji’s face softens, his expression melting into something that’s almost shy, and he tugs absently at the bangs that cover his right eye. “Well that’s kind of flattering, I suppose. I get the feeling you don’t go around saying things like that to all the boys you meet.”

Once again, Zoro doesn’t hold back. “I’ve never in my life met someone like you.”

Sanji’s cheeks burn bright red, and he ducks his head even further. “We’ll discuss this some more later,” he says, not a suggestion, but an order. “For now, though, we have bigger fish to fry.”

Willing to admit that that’s true, Zoro focuses on where Judge is still hunched behind the throne, his expression reminiscent of a trapped animal as his eyes repeatedly hop from swordsman to prince and back again.

“I cannot possibly be hearing this correctly,” he says finally, his gaze coming to rest on Zoro. “Do you mean to tell me you came all the way here to attack my kingdom unprovoked because of him?”

Zoro gives him a flat stare. “From where I’m standing, there was nothing unprovoked about it. You’re a monster, and you used me to hurt him. I won’t stand for that. Also, you’re an idiot if you think for one second that Big Mom wasn’t planning to betray you the second the ink was signed on the marriage contract.”

At that Judge scoffs, standing a little straighter as he’s hit with a wave of false bravado. “Linlin would never do something like that to me. She respects Germa and our family too much.”

“Big Mom doesn’t respect anyone,” Zoro tells him. “And she never joins alliances where both sides would be on equal footing. She double crosses and takes over anyone stupid enough to let her in close.”

Judge sputters. “That’s not true! You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, he does,” Sanji says before Zoro can deny the accusation. Sounding tired, the blond gives his biological father an exasperated look. “I overheard Pudding bragging about it last night. The plan was to kill me at the altar, and then descend on you, Reiju, and the idiot trio in the chaos. Once you were out of the way, she was going to destroy anyone who didn’t surrender, subsume anyone who did, and take the land and weapons for herself.”

The silence that follows his declaration is so complete, Zoro momentarily thinks Judge has stopped breathing. The king’s eyes are wide with disbelief, and he’s clutching the seat in front of him like a lifeline.

“That’s not true,” he eventually manages to rasp. “You’re lying.”

Sanji shrugs, unbothered. “Believe what you want,” he says, “but in a way you should be thanking the Strawhats. If they hadn’t shown up, you’d have died during tomorrow’s ceremony. Now, maybe you’ll get to live.”

“Unless,” he flicks his gaze over to Zoro. “Does your captain really not take prisoners? Or was that another lie from the media.”

“Luffy takes prisoners,” Zoro assures him. “He says there’s no point in killing your enemies because then they won’t be around to think about how badly they’ve lost.”

Sanji barks out a laugh, his eyes sparkling as he throws his head back. “I like it,” he says, still chuckling. “There’s a certain sense of poetic justice there that I can get behind.”

“But enough of this,” he says, once again focusing on Germa’s cowering monarch. “Are you going to come quietly, or are we going to have to give you the kind of ass kicking that you so righteously deserve?”

“Please say it’s the second one,” Zoro adds. “I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks.”

“Steady, Marimo.” Sanji holds up a hand when Zoro takes a pointed step forward. “If anyone gets to move on him first here, it’s me.”

Willing to concede in this one instance, Zoro halts his movements and nods. Then the two of them turn as one back to Judge, whose face darkens with rage.

“Like hell am I going to be beaten by the likes of you two brats,” he hisses, his hands dropping to the weapons on his belt.

Zoro grins.

*****
“That cut on your forehead is still bleeding.”

Glancing up at Sanji’s words, Zoro needs a second to focus on what the blond has just said. Then he belatedly brings a hand up to prod along his hairline, unsurprised when his fingers come away sticky. “It’ll stop soon enough,” he says, letting his hand fall back down. “Head wounds just bleed a lot.”

Sanji makes a face at him, and reaches down to grab the hem of the cream coloured tunic he’s wearing. His long fingers trace over the edge of the clothing until they find a spot that was frayed at some point during the battle, and then they start to tug, not stopping until he’s pulled a long strip of fabric free from the rest.

“You truly are an idiot,” he says, folding the torn piece of cloth into neat little squares until he has a decently thick pad to work with. He kicks a few pieces of fallen masonry out of his way, and comes to settle on the opposite end of a cracked pillar that Zoro is already sitting on.

“Come here,” he commands, grabbing the swordsman by the chin when he tries to duck away. Next he brings the impromptu bandage to Zoro’s face, pressing it against the open wound to try and staunch the bleeding. “Stop being a big baby, and hold still.”

“I am holding still,” Zoro protests despite all evidence to the contrary. “And I don’t need your help with this. I can take care of it myself.”

“Maybe, but seeing as you weren’t, I’m not prepared to take your word for it,” Sanji says, pressing on undeterred. “You need to stem the flow for now, and then we need to find a doctor to check you over and see if you need stitches.”

“It’s a scratch,” Zoro sputters. “I definitely don’t need stitches.”

Sanji doesn’t even bother trying to hide his eyeroll. “As impressed as I am by your apparent ability to see your own face without a mirror, you’re going to have to forgive me if I’m not prepared to take your word on the subject. You’re going to see a doctor, and that’s final.”

“Oh no, does someone need a doctor?!”

Sanji jumps at the high pitched exclamation, but Zoro doesn’t so much as bat an eye. Well versed in this particular refrain, he twists as best as Sanji’s grip will allow until his eye lands on where Chopper’s making his way through the debris field the throne room has become.

“I’m fine, Chop,” he says preemptively. “Curls here is worrying over nothing.”

Unsurprisingly, his words don’t work, and Chopper starts hurrying faster.

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” the diminutive doctor exclaims as he scrambles over the rubble. “You still call the scar on your chest ‘just a scratch’, so you’re the last person I’d trust to properly assess your injuries.”

“Step aside, please,” he says to Sanji as he reaches them. “I’d like to sit where you are so that I can take a closer look.”

“Be my guest,” Sanji says, standing with an agreeable nod so that Chopper can take his place. “He’s all yours.”

“For my sins,” Chopper agrees, a phrase that he’d picked up from Jinbe of all people. “Don’t go far, though. I may need a second set of hands here, and then you’ll have to be examined as well.”

“Me? Oh, I’m fine,” Sanji says with a sweeping gesture that takes in his torn and dirty clothes and a number of bruises that are starting to turn up on his pale skin. “There’s nothing to worry about here.”

Without bothering to take his hands off of Zoro, Chopper pins the blond with a look. “I’ll be the judge of that, thank you,” he says firmly. “Now, sit right there and wait to be seen.”

“There’s no point in arguing with him,” Zoro says when Sanji looks like he’s about to do just that. “He’s surprisingly aggressive for a doctor.”

“If I am, it’s only because I’ve spent years having to wrangle you and Luffy after fights,” Chopper says icily. “It’s just my luck to have signed on to work with two of the most difficult patients in the world.”

“Please, you love me,” Zoro scoffs. “I’m your favorite person on the whole crew.”

Chopper snorts. “You’d be lucky to crack the top ten,” he says, leaning forward so that he can get a better look at Zoro’s wound.

“There’s only nine of us!”

Chopper gives him a smirk that clashes with his normally innocent expression. “That was kind of my point.”

“Asshole,” Zoro mutters, and then immediately feels bad about it. “So, what’s the verdict, doc? Am I going to live?”

Chopper makes a humming sound in the back of his throat, tilting Zoro’s head this way and that as he searches for signs that only he knows to look for. “Your pupils are reacting correctly and there’s no signs of a break or even whiplash. My best guess is you got away with nothing more than a nasty cut.”

“Emphasis on nasty, though,” he notes, dropping his hands and reaching for his medical bag. “Hold still while I close it up.”

“Damnit,” Zoro huffs, while Sanji makes a triumphant noise from his own seat. “Shut up, Curls.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Are you two always like this?” Chopper asks as he works to thread some twine through a needle.

Zoro tries not to wince when the needle first slides into his flesh. “Unfortunately, Chopper, you’re going to realize pretty quickly that Blondie here is kind of a bitch. You should have seen all the bruises and cuts he gave me the last time I was in Germa. I actually lost count of the number of times he bit me.”

Sanji’s face contorts expressively and it’s one of the funniest things Zoro’s seen in recent memory. “Excuse me?!” He exclaims, his hands clenching into fists and his back going ramrod straight. “Need I remind you that you kidnapped me in the middle of the night and spent three weeks dragging me back to literal hell on earth, all while keeping me trussed up so tightly that I could barely move?!”

“Because you kept kicking me,” Zoro retorts, earning himself a whack on the shoulder from Chopper when he tries to better twist in Sanji’s direction. “It would’ve been way easier if you’d just come quietly. Besides, I apologized for all that.”

Sanji crosses his arms over his chest, one curled eyebrow arching high on his forehead. “Uh, when?”

In answer, Zoro makes a sweeping gesture with one arm that encompasses both the destroyed throne room and the palace beyond. “When do you think?”

Sanji gives him an incredulous expression, after which Chopper decides to add insult to injury by adding in a condescending pat to the head.

“You really are bad at this,” the doctor says tiredly. “Now hold still and let me finish your stitches.”

“What happened to the Germa king, anyway?” He asks a few seconds later, the needle remaining steady in his hands. “I don’t see him anywhere.”

“Curls kicked him through a window,” Zoro says, pointing helpfully at the shattered stained glass pane in question. “He hit the balcony down below, and we’re pretty sure his leg is broken.”

“What makes you say that?” Chopper asks.

Sanji shrugs. “Well the bone sticking out of his shin made it pretty obvious. Also, he keeps calling for help periodically.”

Chopper pauses momentarily. A series of complicated expressions pass over his face, at which point, he sighs. “Oh, I see,” he tells them. “You’re both terrible.”

Sanji shrugs again, and Zoro mimics the motion when Chopper’s eyes flick over to him, causing the doctor to sigh. “I’ll go check on him once I’m done with you two,” he decides. “Since we don’t actually want him dead.”

“Maybe you do - ”

“Marimo.”

“Fine,” rolling his good eye, Zoro huffs and subsides in the wake of Sanji’s tone. “I guess you can call the shots here since you’re the one he’s fucked over the most.”

“I’m so flattered,” Sanji says dryly.

“You should be,” Chopper says helpfully. “Usually the only person he cedes territory to like that is Luffy.”

“ … oh. ” Glancing at Zoro for confirmation, Sanji’s cheeks turn pink when the swordsman nods. “I suppose that’s kind of you then.”

“I don’t think kind is the word I’d use,” Chopper again interjects. Having finished with his line of stitches, he tugs the needle free and snips off the end of the thread. Then he turns to Sanji. “Alright, now let me have a look at you.”

Sanji looks like he intends to protest, but ultimately submits to Chopper performing a quick but thorough examination. After that’s done, the doctor packs up his medkit and heads for the nearest intact set of stairs, leaving the two of them alone together.

“He seems … nice,” Sanji comments once Chopper’s vanished out of sight. “And very good at his job for someone so young.”

“Chopper’s the best doctor on any of the continents,” Zoro says loyally. “His age doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yes, I’m starting to see that your crew’s reputations may not line up perfectly with the real things,” Sanji admits. He looks at Zoro briefly, but is quick to duck away again, palming awkwardly at the back of his neck with one hand. “I … perhaps owe you an apology for some of the things I said when we were on the road together.”

“Nah,” Zoro says. Shuffling over until they’re sitting side by side, he bumps the other man’s shoulder with his own. “You were a complete bitch, but, under the circumstances, I deserved every bit of it.”

He holds Sanji’s gaze for a moment, long enough for the blond’s mouth to twist up in a helpless grin. “Yeah,” he agrees, bumping Zoro’s shoulder back. “Yeah, you did. Still, I’m man enough to admit that you deciding to take on not one, but two evil superpowers to make up for it was pretty impressive. Consider us even, Mossy.”

“And hey,” he adds brightly, one hand rising to prod gently at the line of stitching now running along Zoro’s hairline. “I think you took less damage from Germa than you did from me. At least if this is the worst thing you’re walking away with.”

“You do kick like an absolute bastard,” Zoro admits, holding still in order to allow Sanji to continue assessing the cut. “That very first one was like taking an iron bar to the stomach.”

“Flatterer.” Sanji smirks, while beginning to lean in slowly. “Just for that I’ll be nice and admit that you’re not half bad with those silly swords of yours. Even if the idea of using three at once still seems like absolute lunacy to me.”

“You say that,” Zoro murmurs as he shifts to mirror the other man’s position, the two of them now sitting so close that their breath is intermingling. “But you seemed a lot more impressed when that three sword style was cutting through Judge’s soldiers like butter.”

Sanji’s eyes are an even more remarkable shade of blue this close, and Zoro nearly groans when his tongue flicks out to wet his bottom lip. “Well I was - ”

“Ahem!” The sharp exclamation, followed by the sound of a heavy wooden peg stomping down on the stone floor causes them both to guiltily spring apart. “Just what, pray tell, is going on here?” An irate voice snaps. “Eggplant, come away from there. I have my doubts he’s housebroken, and you’ve no idea where he’s been.”

“Zeff!” Any thoughts of Zoro and the moment they’d potentially been about to share forgotten, Sanji leaps to his feet and goes barreling across the throne room until he can fling his arms around the old chef’s burly shoulders. “You’re alright!”

“Of course I’m alright,” Zeff says gruffly, although Zoro doesn’t miss the gentle way he tucks Sanji’s head into the junction between his neck and shoulder. “As if the likes of your idiot sperm donor could actually take me out.”

Sanji makes a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sniffle, and Zeff’s expression softens even further. “I’m fine, brat,” he murmurs. “And you’re going be too.”

“Or at least you will be once we’ve found you some decent company to keep,” he concludes, shards of ice leaching into his voice as he glares at Zoro over the top of Sanji’s head. “You’re too good for the likes of this nuisance.”

Pulling back with a weak laugh, Sanji glances back and forth between chef and swordsman, his lips twitching with amusement. “I take it you two got off on the wrong foot?” He asks as Zoro stands and cautiously makes his way over to the two other men.

“You could say that,” Zeff hisses furiously. “He’ll be lucky if I don’t carve out his entrails and strangle him with them at this rate

“I get it,” Zoro says when Sanji looks alarmed. Squaring his shoulders, he makes a point of meeting Zeff’s eye. “I told him everything back when we met, so I understand why he’s angry with me.”

“Stop being contrite!” Zeff snaps, both ends of his mustache bristling. “I have every intention of kicking your ass up one side of the battlements and down the other, and if you make me feel bad about that I’m just going to get even more pissed off.”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” Sanji says, patting his father’s shoulder theatrically. “Knock off the overprotective act, you crazy old coot. Mosshead knows he fucked up, and he came back to make amends, including freeing you might I add.”

“You can add whatever you please,” Zeff tells him, unswayed. “That doesn’t mean I’m about to let him get away with his earlier stunt.”

“Yes, you are,” Sanji says, giving him one last pat while Zeff scowls mutinously. “I’m the one who got screwed over here, so I’m also the one who gets to say when certain parties are forgiven. Is that clear?”

“Tch,” Zeff says, pointing a furious finger in Zoro’s direction. “You’d better sleep with one eye open, boy. I know dozens of ways to kill a man, and half of them I can make look like an accident.”

“Zeff,” Sanji sighs, rolling his eyes. “Stop trying to give him nightmares and come with me. The Strawhats have a doctor with them, and you should let him take a look at you. Moss, I guess I’ll see you later, okay?”

Knowing the moment’s been lost, Zoro nods. “Sure,” he says, trying not to wince when Zeff’s tightly focused gaze lands on him again. “I’ll leave you guys to that and you can come find me when you feel like it.”

Zeff’s expression suggests that’ll happen over his dead body, but Sanji merely nods and starts to drag the old man away. Groaning, Zoro drops down onto the nearest piece of rubble and buries his face in his hands.

*****
The royal palace is in ruins, and it’s far from the only casualty. Both Germa and Big Mom’s fleets have been reduced to rubble, with only the flagship of the latter crew making a clean get away. An unconscious Charlotte Linlin had been dragged aboard by her battered sons just before they’d set sail, but otherwise the rest of their enemies had been subdued.

Judge is wild, of course. After Chopper had set his leg and patched up the worst of his remaining wounds, the deposed king had been ensconced in his own dungeons, along with the rest of his children. Rumor has it you can hear him yelling if you stand at the top of the stairs leading down, but Zoro has yet to bother.

Instead he’s been busy helping to clear away the worst of the debris while Luffy (or moreso Nami) and the leaders of the rest of their allies decide how they want to proceed. He knows there’s been some mention of installing Reiju in her father’s place since she’s the most acceptable of the Vinsmokes, but the only way he’ll support that move is if Sanji does as well.

And speaking of Sanji, he’s barely seen the man since the battle had ended. Having no interest in getting roped into the ongoing political strife, the former prince had instead allowed Zeff to convince him to get the palace kitchens up and running. Aided by a handful of staff who have stuck around, the two of them have been working almost nonstop to make sure that everyone is properly fed during the ongoing mess.

Figuring they should talk, Zoro’s tried a couple of times to sneak away to see Sanji, only to find that Zeff is seemingly always around. The old chef clearly disapproves of him, and is doing his damndest to keep him away from his son.

Having passed another day without successfully making it into the kitchens, Zoro’s just dragged himself off to the room he’s claimed as his own during the Strawhats’ stay in Germa. He’s lying sprawled on top of the bed when someone knocks on the door, and he groans tiredly as he pushes himself up onto his elbows.

“Come in,” he calls, confident that no one who means him harm would have bothered with knocking. “It’s open.”

The door swings inwards with a creak, and Zoro sits up straighter when it reveals Sanji silhouetted in the doorway. “Curls?” He says, surprised. “What are you doing here? Is something wrong?”

In answer, Sanji flashes him a half grin before stepping into the room. He closes the door firmly behind him, twisting the lock shut with an air of finality as he turns back to Zoro.

“Only if you count the fact that Zeff’s spent the last week watching over me like a hen with only one chick to mind,” he says with a snort. “He’s fussing worse now that we’re free than he did when I was an actual child.”

“He almost lost you,” Zoro points out, trying and failing not to grimace as he’s reminded yet again of the role he’d played in that mess. “I can’t really blame him.”

“Yeah, well, he’s going to have to accept the fact that things are changing,” Sanji says. Padding over a rug that rests between the doorway and the bed, Sanji grabs the room’s only spare chair on his way by and drops down into it.

“You’re captain came to see me today,” he says without preamble. “He’s offered me a spot in his crew.”

Zoro briefly considers pretending to be surprised by this, but in the end he doesn’t bother. He knows Luffy and he knows Sanji, and therefore can easily see why the former would want to recruit the latter. “Are you going to take him up on it?”

Sanji hums thoughtfully. “I haven’t decided yet,” he says finally. “True, I have every intention of leaving Germa, and I can think of worse ways to spend my time after everything that’s happened. On the other hand, Zeff’s talking about heading back East - he’s from there originally, I don’t know if anyone ever told you - and opening up a restaurant. He’d take me with him if I wanted.”

“Of course he would,” Zoro says. “In other news, water is wet. The fact that you can go with him doesn’t necessarily mean that you want to though.”

“He’s my father, Zoro,” Sanji says sharply. “Or at least he’s the closest thing I’ve ever known to one. I owe him everything.”

“Kids don’t owe their parents that way, Curls,” Zoro counters. “Go with him if you want, but only if it’s what you want.”

For some reason, that makes Sanji smirk. “He said almost the exact same thing. Look at the two of you finally finding something to agree on.”

“Fuck, don’t tell him,” Zoro mutters. “You’ll just make him even more mad at me.”

“Aw, Marimo,” Sanji laughs. “Zeff’s bark is far worse than his bite.”

“Really?” Zoro asks suspiciously.

Sanji grins. “No. He’s an absolute bastard, and everything I know about fighting I learned from him.”

“Wonderful,” Zoro sighs, swinging his legs over the side of the bed until he feels like the two of them are on more equal footing. “So what are you going to do then?” He asks. “Will it be Luffy or Zeff?”

“Really?” Sanji gives him an incredulous look. “You’re not even trying to wriggle yourself into consideration?”

Zoro shrugs. “I’m pretty sure you know where I stand,” he says quietly. “Whatever choice you make, I’ll stand by it.”

“And if I choose Zeff?” Sanji asks, tilting his head curiously to the side. “You’ll just let me go?”

Zoro makes a face. “I don’t own you,” he points out, not missing Sanji’s approving nod. “If you come with Luffy, that doesn’t mean something will happen between us, and if you go with Zeff, that doesn’t mean that it won’t. It’s your call, and I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me.”

“ … damn,” Sanji says, looking impressed. “I know I’ve said it before, but I really can’t believe just how badly Judge missed the mark on you. You’re so honourable, it’s almost disgusting.”

“Oh fuck off, Curls,” Zoro grunts, making Sanji laugh.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Sanji says when Zoro looks away, feeling the back of his neck hear. “No, c’mon, I didn’t mean it like that,” he insists, leaning over to grab Zoro by the wrist. “Look at me, Marimo. This is important.”

Unable to resist the pull of those words, Zoro twists back around. His good eye dips down momentarily to look at where Sanji is now gripping his hand and threading their fingers together, then back up to the other man’s face. “Curls?” He says weakly.

“Moss,” Sanji replies, his grin softening. “How would you feel about me joining up with your crew?”

“I mean,” Zoro shrugs, trying to seem casual and knowing he misses by a mile. “It’s fine with me if you feel like it.”

“Mmm, okay,” Sanji says. “Then my next question is, how would you feel if I kissed you for real this time?”

Zoro flushes. “M’pretty sure you already know the answer to that question.”

“Yeah,” Sanji admits, his eyes dancing, “but after all the shit you put me through, I think I deserve to hear you say it. Go ahead.”

Letting out an aggrieved noise, Zoro fixes the blond with an unimpressed stare. “Curls,” he says irritably. “I would like it very much if you kissed me, and, provided your crazy dad doesn’t throttle me when he finds out, I’d like to see you in a non-platonic way for the foreseeable future.”

“Well, gee, Moss,” Sanji bats his eyes theatrically and leans forward. “How is a boy supposed to resist an offer like that?”

And Zoro would yell at him for that, but he soon finds his mouth is otherwise occupied.