Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Zoro missed this.

Sleeping inside of the crow's nest of the Thousand Sunny while on lookout duty. To anyone other than his mates, he might've appeared to be slacking on the job—that was true to an extent. But ever since he learned about haki, Zoro now understood why he could sense the presence of others, despite the dark; despite napping in the dead of night while his mates slept like babies in their beds, content in the knowledge that he would look out for them.

Well, most of his mates.

Zoro opened his eyes, though it was as reluctant as a boulder pulled uphill. He felt the roaming company of their resident archeologist, Nico Robin. Her presence—like all of the other Strawhats—was distinct enough for him to never forget. Luffy was a perpetually shouting, meat-eating explosion. Fire recklessly turned the world into day. Just being around him made his blood pump harder in his veins. Sanji was different. His company made adrenaline gush forth; river water forced through a narrow sieve. Everything was a competition, especially fights. Who could finish the most, the fastest, and with the least amount of injuries? Even Dracule Mihawk had a clear-cut aura. It was like having someone with black-bottled anger looming behind you in an alleyway. Silent and terrifying. He held an unfathomable power that he never fully showed.

Robin's, on the other hand, was the only one that made his blood settle. Like an old, favored book tucked away. The barest whiff of lilacs. Candlelight that illuminated a dark corner, bending for the most minute of instances to command his attention just long enough to reveal to him something he'd never thought to look at before. Robin valued learning, and it was as if that single trait had bled into her very pores. Having her near made his veins stop throbbing and his breaths ease like the torpid joy he felt whenever he mindlessly swung his sword for practice. Zoro didn't know if that was what other people called peace, but it felt a lot like it.

He'd never told her this of course. Besides, he had a feeling that she somehow knew. Robin knew everything—damned eavesdropper.

Zoro looked up.

The moon was fat tonight. Moonlight shined white and gleaming, staining the leading sea purple and navy. He got up to look towards where he felt Robin's presence. She paced around restlessly for a while, before heading into the bathroom. Each stream of light was syrup-thick as they bled into the windows foggy panels. When Zoro angled his head just so, he saw Robin beyond the steam, taking a midnight bath. He'd seen her do this enough times to know that she had a nightmare, courtesy of her time spent on the run as a child.

He could only wonder about the hardships she endured then. He'd tried asking once before only to get a snide remark that had him rolling his eyes. Zoro still remembered the ambiguous smile she shot him, before she sauntered off to find Luffy because if there was one thing they all knew, it was that Luffy's grin eased all bruises. He was a loved captain that loved ten times in return. No one could deny that.

Still, a part of him couldn't help but feel shame to know that she was haunted—even now. Friendship could cure many ails, could scab over wounds too raw to touch. But only time could turn those grievances into scars. Lines of grotesquely healed flesh that still throbbed if pressed without care. He knew that feeling well. But Robin was so much smaller and so much softer than him. She always kept herself groomed to perfection. It was easy to forget about her age or the fact that she'd lived through so much.

Most people simply wrote him off as a muscle head. He was to a large degree, but that didn't mean he never ruminated over his actions, as well as the actions of his captain, who needed a stern talking to every now and again. Introspection had always been a part of him—had been since Kuina's death. He'd dream of her sometimes. The illusions would be mostly forgotten when he awoke, but his soul remembered. His chest would stutter with sorrow at the unreachable happiness within the dream. Loops of imagined memories that would never be real.

It was funny though, how years of fighting, of bleeding, of his muscles and determination being stretched and drained of all of their worth—all of it so easily smoothed by this: Robin's presence beside him. Her hand limp in his own.

Wait… Zoro blinked blankly at the sight of their intertwined fingers. What the—

"You looked like you needed comforting," came her familiar, velvet voice. She squeezed his hand. "Is everything alright?"

He shrugged her off. "What are you doing here?"

"Keeping you company."

"It's not that I couldn't sleep. You woke me." He clicked his tongue. "So, what are you doing up?"

"Hmmm… I wonder."

Zoro's gaze rose to find her smiling at him. It was kind, if not a little strained, indicating that she wasn't in the mood to talk about her night terrors—not tonight. Her hair was still damp. It dripped beads of water on the floorboards. She wasn't wearing much. Only an overshirt that looked like it once belonged to a man—who, he didn't know. But it looked suspiciously like the kind Luffy's brother wore. He didn't dwell on it. He forced himself not to. There were more pressing concerns. Like his bruised ego. Because there was no way she could've gotten so close to him without him sensing her presence. Absolutely none.

His eyes trailed behind her to find that the lights in the bathroom across the ship were still on.

A clone then, Zoro decided. One to watch over him as he did her whenever they were in the midst of battle. Did she just make it appear?

Zoro looked at her, and he had the good fortune of having her eyes fix on him like nothing else in the world mattered. Perhaps to this clone, nothing did. He registered new scars on her limbs. Some were faint, indicating that she had been treated almost immediately. Others, like the ones she bore on her back from protecting the Surgeon of Death in Dressrosa, were likely more pronounced.

Those were remnants of the crew's inability to protect her—no, that was wrong. She didn't need protection. Not really. She'd get angry at him for even suggesting it. A testament of her strength then. Her loyalty to the crew and her conviction that they wouldn't let her die. All it took was a look from Luffy, and she had put her body on the line for a man she didn't trust. She did it out of instinct. Out of nothing more than the realization that Luffy would be sad if anything were to happen to Trafalgar Law. That kind of unshakable loyalty couldn't be faked. It was a bond forged by blood, steel, and fierce love.

And if nothing else, she deserved his mind's respect for it.

Robin laughed when he continued boring holes into her. As if she could be intimidated. She clearly knew that he was in thought, and dissecting his whirring mind looked to be at the top of her agenda tonight.

"I brought you a drink," Robin said, revealing a bottle that she had hidden behind her. "Wait for me to get out of the shower. We can share."

How was that fair? He couldn't say no to alcohol… though he wouldn't have said no if she asked to stay with him in the crow's nest in the first place.

"What are you playing at?" Zoro asked suspiciously. He nicked the bottle from her hands to look at the label. "This is good stuff. Expensive stuff. Where'd you get it?"

"I took it from Dressrosa."

When did you have time to snatch this? He wanted to ask, but settled instead for saying, "If you expect me to loosen my tongue for your entertainment, then you're gonna need a few more bottles."

"I'll bring more when we finish it."

Zoro smirked. "You better bring out your whole stash. I want to drink this already. The real you still in the shower?"

"On the deck," she said, before disappearing in a flurry of petals.

Zoro looked down from his perch to find Robin looking up and waving her hand high above her head. She wore the same thing her clone did, although her hair was noticeably drier. It didn't take him long to reach her. Half a minute to slide down the mast, and another to cross the distance between them. He took a swig from the bottle as soon as his feet hit the deck.

"A quarter?" she muttered, as he handed her the bottle. "How could you already finish a quarter while walking towards me?"

The words were exasperated, but her tone was anything but. On the contrary, Robin donned a starlight grin that made him wonder what in the world she was so excited about. Was drinking with him really that fun?

"Don't complain," Zoro warned. He joined her where she leaned against the ship. "So, why'd you lure me here?"

"It's nice—having someone to enjoy the night with." Robin drank, a thousand times more graceful than him, before offering him the bottle. "It chases away certain… voices."

That was a tender spot if he'd ever heard one. Zoro observed her grip tighten over the bottle. Knuckles stiffened, grieving for a lost childhood that he knew only glimpses about.

Zoro wasn't gentle. He wasn't sure he knew how to be, but just this once, for her, he tried.

He took the bottle from her and replaced it with his hand. She looked at him, shocked by the gesture, before she smiled in that way of hers that had him questioning whether it was real. Her grip was still taut with heartache. Her knuckles clenched so hard around his that they hurt; the only tether in a wavering world of unpleasant memories that demanded too much, too soon from a little girl whose mind, nor body could handle the strain. But things were different now. She was different.

She had…

Yes, this is what she'd been missing these two years.

Zoro watched as Robin breathed, slow and measured, as if testing how the night felt now that she had gotten a grasp of what it felt like to be at once the controlled and the controller of such immensity. To bear the weight of a past life with someone that—didn't understand, but—cared about her making it back across the shore to sail away with him.

Unshed tears stung her eyes. Before he could stop himself, he let go of her hand in favor of ruffling her hair. She was so damn tall that he felt a little inadequate, but the emotion was promptly crushed because of the situation. Distractedly, he noticed that it had gotten longer. Zoro's fingers flitted downward to tuck a few wayward strands behind her ear. The unrelenting moon limned her eyes, scalding them bluer than the sea.

Robin bent, then leaned forward. Chest against his. Arms wrapped around his neck. She whispered words meant only for his ears—soft and exhausted; clear and devoted. Relieved. It was a declaration that gave his heart back its beating.

"I'm glad that you're here," she said with more weight than two separated years could ever hope to bring. "I'm so tired of doing this alone."

Zoro's eyes widened when he processed her voice, laced with enough gratitude to stagger him. He almost dropped the bottle. Almost. Heat flooded his cheeks. Immeasurable warmth knocked bruises on his ribcage. Zoro shut his eyes in an effort to master the prideful thing in his chest—to no avail

A heart could only hold so many memories. He'd be lying though if he said he'd rather hold ones of a woman than of a battlefield. Thankfully, that wasn't an issue with her. They sailed the four blues and the Grand Line together after all. A different promise then. A promise to be an anchor that offered companionship and solace, rather than the quiet bliss of safety; a moor in an endless sea for weary ships to return home. But he wasn't as eloquent as others. His voice was powerful, but as far as he was concerned, it wasn't meant to stir anyone but the hearts of indecisive men.

He settled for something simple instead. Something more like him.

"We're all here for you," he said. His cheeks already blazed from those few words. "All you have to do is call."

The way she whispered his name then instigated a tender affection that he would spend decades failing to control.

Chapter Text

Zoro observed Robin from the crow's nest more than he'd ever care to admit, but it was only after they reunited on Sabaody that he noticed just how often he did it. At first, he figured it was just an old habit. The first time he did it was out of caution immediately after she joined them as they set sail from Alabasta. Back then, he needed to keep an eye on her. She had been their enemy after all. He needed to make sure that she didn't murder any of them in their sleep, especially after she so brazenly listed assassination as one of her specialties. Robin was confident, he'd give her that. He respected her for being so upfront about her talents even if she wasn't with anything else.

Zoro stopped being so wary the more time she spent as a part of their crew, and following what happened on Water Seven, he began watching her out of genuine worry. He made it a point to memorize her quirks and expressions, so that he could see if something was bothering her. Zoro became more than a little paranoid after the ordeal with CP9, but really, who could blame him? They'd been travelling together for so long, and yet none of them noticed the concern that Robin felt all that time. Granted, Robin had one of the greatest poker faces in the world, but still… not noticing, and then having to suffer through her leaving felt like a blow to the chest.

It became habit to make sure that she was doing alright; that her face wasn't hampered down by lines that anyone on their crew could easily make disappear with a single conversation. Crewmates took care of each other, and he was the first mate of the Strawhat Pirates. It was his job to protect those that sailed with them just as much as it was to make sure that Luffy never strayed from the path they all followed him on. So, as far as Zoro was concerned, it was completely normal for him to face her during his workouts whenever she sat beside her flowerbeds to read. It was natural for his gaze to follow her dainty hand as she turned a page or brought the porcelain teacup she'd gotten from who knows where to her plump lips. It was downright ordinary to be able to read the minute changes in her facial expressions.

But, if he was being wholly honest with himself, the power she had to command his attention was outrageous. Robin could so easily narrow his focus to a single point: the wry turn of her lips, her fingers as she tucked her hair behind her ear, her shoulders whenever she laughed—genuinely laughed. Time and experience had granted Zoro the ability to tell at a glance when something concerned her. All it took was the slightest furrowing of her brows, and it would be a dead giveaway. Zoro didn't always do something about it... not directly anyway. Sure, there were times when he'd speak to her to chase away whatever made her frown, but more often than not, he'd nudge Luffy in her direction. Zoro was good with secrets; he knew that they didn't need to be picked at and dragged out of the dark before their time. But Zoro also knew that sometimes it was necessary to chase away all the dark corners in someone's mind, and that was Luffy's strength, not his. Luffy could do it with nothing more than a laugh and the curious tilt of his head. He was such a bright Captain. No one could deny that. What was important was Robin's joyful smile after her boisterous talk with Luffy.

But that wasn't all.

Zoro also knew when Robin found amusement in something not by her snickers, but by the way her eyes crinkled ever so slightly at the corners. Her amused grin was his favorite. The expression he dreaded the most, and the one that didn't take someone as observant as him to see, was her wrathful face. It was rare, but the few instances that it did make its appearance always staggered him. A storm would rise in her eyes whenever she was angry. Not those minute flashes of irritation that certain obnoxious marines or pirates had a knack for provoking, but properly angry. The bottled, repressed blackness that was her fury drained every ounce of cheer from her being. It rolled off of her in waves like the sinister energy of a man with too much power and not enough patience. And her expression… Ocean's spirits, her expression.

The first time Zoro saw it, he swore that it was dark enough to crack glass. It didn't take a genius to find out that no person—only time—had the capacity to return any semblance of joy to her. There was power in being able to aggravate her to such an extent, but there was shame in it too. Zoro held a personal grudge for anyone that managed to elicit such a response from her.

His grip abruptly tightened over his favored blade, before he forced himself to stop. Zoro gently rubbed the space over his heart, trying to calm it like one might calm a stuttering child. There were no enemies on their ship now, especially not those damned buster-calling Marines. He really shouldn't be getting worked up over his own thoughts.

"Zoro," Robin suddenly called, beckoning his attention like slanted waters abruptly gushing down a cliff. The swordsman was drawn from his thoughts. He reflexively peered down from the crow's nest to find Robin on the deck waving up at him. The strength that her voice had over him was disgraceful.

"Oh, good," she went on, relieved. Her nightshirt billowed tantalizingly in the breeze. "You are there. I thought I'd need to go to the men's' quarters."

He lifted an eyebrow at her. Couldn't she have just used her powers to check? But instead of asking that, he went with a crass, "What do you want?"

She smiled in a way that made the prideful, traitorous thing in his chest pulse like water frozen too quickly. He had little experience with relationships. But he knew enough to realize that if he wasn't careful, whatever feelings were welling up in his chest would overflow and he'd drown in the sheer immensity. Zoro didn't want that. Hell, he hated the mere thought of it. He despised the feeling of his iron discipline slipping away from him; of his control repeatedly splintering into nothing at the sight of her. Zoro hadn't trained all these years to be undone by a woman... and yet...

He shut his eyes for a moment, as if physically pained by the sight of her. When he opened them again, she was holding up a bottle of something she knew he'd never refuse. Robin could be so unfair when she wanted to be.

"I can't sleep," she said, a little too cheerful about the situation. "Do you want to have a drink with me?"

Zoro looked out at the sea behind her. It was stained a navy blue. The color blended with the dark sky. The stars glistened like jewels, casting lovely shadows on the ship, as if beckoning him down to meet her on the deck.

It only took him a second to decide.

"Another bad dream?" he asked, as he swung down to meet her.

Looking at her face-to-face was so much different from watching her from afar. Even maintaining eye contact was something of a struggle. Zoro grabbed the bottle from her in preference. He listlessly read the label. Zoro wasn't surprised by what he saw; Robin always brought him the best stuff. Where and when she managed to get these rare, expensive vintages, he would never know, but he made a mental note to go booze shopping with her sometime soon.

"No," Robin answered, before looking out at the sea. "It just seemed like a waste to spend a night like this sleeping. Besides, alcohol tastes better when you have someone to share it with."

"Now that, I can't agree with." Zoro smirked. "But if you want to hand your booze over to me, then I'm not complaining."

"I said share, not give."

"You shouldn't have let me take the bottle then."

Robin smiled, then drew closer to the ship's rail. She closed her eyes and leaned against it, basking in the unique comfort that his presence brought. That she felt so safe in his company was a point of pride for him.

"You're impossible," Robin muttered.

"You're the one that came to see me."

"I never said I disliked that part of you," she quipped, all love. "On nights like these, you're always my first choice for company."

Zoro's cheeks heated. His scarred heart skipped forward—hard. Zoro felt the beating blood, the working muscle. Always running off like a flock of startled birds.

But for once, Zoro didn't try to calm it. He made a decision then and there, as he took a generous swig from the bottle she happily watched him enjoy, to not try and stop whatever torrent of emotion he felt bleeding through his veins. It felt like stormy wind blown through the eye of a needle; there was so much pressure. His feelings couldn't get out fast enough. It was almost as if they were fighting for dominance, for the chance to be felt more intensely. It actually hurt for a moment, but not as much as how cowardly his constant denials up to this point suddenly felt.

Zoro was no coward.

So, he'd let his emotions run. He'd let them guide him for tonight and see where the currents brought him because his feelings for her had unfurled long ago—there was little use denying that now. He should've noticed it long before this anyway; there was no use trying to still the constant stuttering in his chest because…

That pounding thing already belonged to her.