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Chapter Text

Your heart is stone, the curse maker had said. So too, shall you be . 

She had pointed at him with blood still on her hands, weeping through the fire in her eyes. Zoro had been struck silent in the wake of such a powerful grief, cowed by the fact that he had caused it. Accepting his punishment was the only thing he could have possibly done. He wouldn’t say it was undeserved. He shouldn’t have killed that man- he hadn’t meant to. Strength was supposed to be a weapon wielded with restraint and control, but Zoro had been 17. What had he really known about the world or anything other than how to swing his sword? 

He learned what blood on his skin felt like. Usually hot and sticky, like death itself trying to cling to him. Stinking his clothes and following him into town where the people walked quickly out of his way. There he is , they whispered. The demon of the east. 

The gentry had wanted no part of him. Frankly Zoro had wanted no part of them , was perfectly content to be a bounty hunter or an overqualified hunter, but Koushirou had insisted on knighthood. It was what Kuina would have wanted, he had said, and how could the swordsman argue. But still, no one had wanted a man so caked in blood that even the creatures of the night stood clear. Somehow the curse was a blessing in the sense that it gave Zoro some small appeal- a knight who truly could only serve. Not even leave really. Stopped by his stone hands from cutting down anyone except those that pursued the harm of others, he became a docile man in theory. Many royals discovered though, to their own misfortune, that just because Zoro returned to flesh at the presence of danger, did not mean he had to act. Even cursed, labeled a demon, and somewhat masterless, he had his pride. 

“I know of a king willing to take you.” Ace said in way of greeting. The cheerful knight must have waited days to speak with Zoro, forced to stick around until bandits got close enough for the curse to relinquish it's hold. 

“I am tired of kings.” Zoro replied, rubbing at his face. The king he was serving then was stupid as an infant, and prone to tantrums fitting one too. 

“You would be serving his son, the prince.” Ace continued on, unbothered by the other man's sourness. “Not like your usual stuck up asses, this one. Curses like a sailor and has a rather nice face, if I might add.” 

Zoro eyed him reproachfully. 

“You did not invite yourself to another royal bed chamber, did you?” 

“Ha!” Ace grinned, smacking Zoro on the shoulder good-naturedly. “The man saw right through me before I could even hint at such salaciousness. Quite frankly though I think his father would have beheaded me- hence where you come in. Can’t exactly threaten anyone’s virtue as a statue.” 

“And so I’m to be your replacement simply because I cannot seduce anyone?” Zoro asked incredulously. Ace held up a finger. 

“Or be seduced by! He really is very good looking. I honestly would swear my loyalty to him and his father if Luffy hadn’t summoned me.” 

Zoro pondered that for a moment, brow furrowed. Ace and his younger brother had a good sense for people, but the freckled knight beside him was known for a lapse in judgement or two when it came to blue bloods with nice smiles. The only reason he hadn’t been thrown in the stocks already was because of his honed charm. 

“And what if I wish to remain here?” The swordsman said, gesturing to the hall he was in. One of the bandits' dead body was still lying on the floor, making for a pitiful sight. 

“I fear that it has already been rather insisted you leave, my friend.” Ace said, toeing the body with a grimace. 

Zoro sighed, not really surprised. The last time he had been ‘awake’ he had scared many of the servants away, most of them in tears. How was he supposed to know horses bled so much? Anyways he had only meant to put the poor creature out of its misery, wounded beside it's dead master. 

“Very well,” he said, resigned. The stone was already beginning in his toes, and he quickly wiped and sheathed his swords. “But this time do not ship me off in a crate-

-o-

The problem with becoming an inanimate object, other than everything, was Zoro's sense of time. One moment he was talking to Ace, and the next he was blinking away the finest layer of dust, his surroundings new and strange. 

Stranger still, but not all that uncommon for the green haired man, he did not recognize anyone in the room. It was apparent that one was finely dressed, and 4 were wielding weapons, and so it was not hard to put two and two together. Most likely more organized bandits, but potentially kidnappers looking for a nice ransom. Drawing his swords, he prepared to aid his potential new master, but stopped. 

The young man, donning an expensive blue shirt and dark trousers, seemed to be quite capable of his own defense. Zoro watched from his place by a simple throne chair as the man used his legs of all things to incapacitate 2 of the attackers, before rather primly waiting for the other 2 to advance on him. His back to the swordsman, the only thing to note of his appearance was shiny yellow hair and a slim figure. Quick as lightning, he struck out at the approaching third person, sending a cheap knife flying into the remaining, and Zoro resisted the odd urge to clap. 

The blonde brushed off something from his shirt, all 4 of the attackers lying in various states of unconsciousness in the simple but elegant room. There were no guards or servants around either, which Zoro found unusual. He didn’t dwell on it though, as the slim man muttered something, turned, and promptly froze upon seeing a stranger with three swords. 

Still further interestingly, the man- or the prince, Zoro realizes, didn’t call out in alarm. Mostly he looked very surprised, and then confused, and then annoyed. Zoro couldn’t help but note that Ace hasn’t been exaggerating at all about the prince’s looks. Large blue eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, and the royal opened his mouth to finally speak. 

“Who in the god damned hell are you and how the fuck did you get in here?” 

So Ace hadn’t exaggerated the cursing bit either. Taken aback, Zoro blinked at the man for a moment before raising a brow in his own confusion. 

“Sir Roronoa, your highness.” 

The prince didn’t look pleased or convinced by that, crossing his arms slowly. 

“I was not aware we had invited a knight to our court. But that doesn’t answer my second question.” He said coolly. 

Zoro looked around, unsure how best to proceed. 

“I suppose I was always in this room, your grace. I do not know how long it’s been since my arrival, but I can only assume recently if no one has told you about me.”

Trying to be respectful, Zoro bowed his head in a small gesture. He had been reprimanded before for not kneeling, but very few of these rich born snobs were deserving even of a nod. Let this man earn a knee to the floor. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, ‘always in this room’, as if you were a part of the wall? Do you think I am so dense or are you going to tell me you’re a magic user?” The prince drawled, now looking properly angry. 

He raised one long leg as if in threat, and Zoro held his hands up in peace. If he was forced to defend himself against this kicking prince he would, but it would likely result in trouble. 

“Magic, yes, but not of my own control. I am cursed to become stone unless there is danger about, and I have only just awoken due to the attackers. Has no one mentioned this to you? Perhaps sir Portgas-

“Stone?” The prince interrupted, looking bewildered. “Are you saying,” He suddenly stopped and looked around the room, stunned. “Oh dear gods. The statue.” 

Zoro looked around the room as well, not seeing any statue, and then realizing what the prince was referring to. 

“I am not a statue!” He yelled. 

“Well how was I to know that!?” The prince yelled back, one hand running through his yellow hair in an agitated way. “You simply stood there for days, unmoving and very- stone! I mean, you arrived in a crate for fucks sake!” 

Zoro took a deep breath through his nose, cursing Ace to all layers of hell. 

“And no one thought to mention to you that I was very much alive? Not even the king who requested me?” He asked, digging within himself for patience. 

“Requested- what do you mean requested ? I do not need a night and that old shit doesn’t either! And Certainly not one who turns to stone randomly!” The prince yelled, growing further agitated. Zoro gritted his teeth. 

“It is not randomly , and if I am here that means someone wanted me here. I cannot exactly travel of my own power.” 

Both the knight and the prince glared at each other, frowning. 

“I will ask that old goat about this, but it must be a misunderstanding. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, after all.” The prince said, gesturing to the possibly dead men on the floor. He stopped suddenly, a look of horror painting his handsome face. “Oh shit, I let Usopp borrow you as a practice dummy.”

“You what ?” Zoro ground out, unable to comprehend the sheer level of humiliation such a thing meant. Reduced to an object of borrowing, no better than a household broom. Next he would be put to work as a coat rack. 

“You are not injured, are you? I really am sorry about that, I truly did not know you were alive.” The prince offered, sounding genuinely remorseful. “Oh, and, I suppose your hair is due to my own negligence as well.”

“What? What is wrong with my hair?” The swordsman asked, patting his head down. He knew there was not very much of it, he kept it trimmed neatly, but he would rather have the little he did than none. 

“Well, I did not think to clean you off, and I believe some mold, or perhaps moss grew on you? It seems to have affected your hair color.” The prince went on, lowering his eyes in apology. He rubbed at his arm, looking awkward. 

Zoro blinked. 

“It is not mold! ” He roared, startling the other man in the room. Zoro resisted the urge to plunge his own sword into his chest, the humiliation begging for his departure in any way. He wished he had a helmet simply to cover his burning face. 

For possibly the first time ever, the swordsman welcomed the tell tale stiffness in his body, the first sign of his return to a stone slumber. His back straightened rigidly, his arms returning to his side. It became uncomfortable to move his tongue. 

“It appears the danger has fully passed, your highness.” Zoro managed to get out, the tenseness of his voice a combination of unhappiness and discomfort. Would he be sent back as someone’s practice dummy now? He couldn’t bear the thought. 

“Wait! When will you next awaken? I do not even know your full name!” The prince called out, approaching Zoro. He reached out, as if to stop the swordsman from something as simple as leaving the room. 

But it was too late. His ears hardened, deafening Zoro, and then his sight, and blackness swirled around him for one unfortunate last second. 

Chapter Text

“No, I understand you’re here to kill me, but just wait a moment, would you?”

Zoro shook himself, blinking slowly as he registered the words. He recognized the voice, the smooth tone of the blonde prince, and rubbed at his face, trying to dispel the last bit of fog from his mind. 

The sight that greeted the somewhat dazed knight was the prince staring at him, eyes, or at least one visible one, wide and captivated with raised brows. Behind him, a good dozen armed people, faces half covered and bows raised. 

“You’re back! So it is danger that summons you.” The prince said, startling Zoro with a bright grin. Charming dimples bloomed on his cheeks as a white-toothed smile overtook his face further. Lord have mercy, Zoro thought. Such a smile was dangerous. 

“Did you just tell a group of assassins to wait?” The swordsman asked, trying to return to the more pressing matter at hand. 

He glanced at the tense bodies slowly approaching him and his prince, but the blonde scoffed, waving them off as if they were insects. 

“Well it’s not as if they need to kill me right this minute, do they? They can wait to have their asses handed to them after we’ve had our introductions.” The prince said, sounding nearly bored with the whole assassin prospect. 

Zoro assessed the royal a little more carefully. Pretty, yes, but he didn’t seem to be bluffing either. After their first encounter where he had sufficiently handled his attackers on his own, the swordsman had to admit he was intrigued and slightly impressed by this foul-mouthed blue blood. Deciding to go with his gut instincts, Zoro carefully knelt before the man, lowering his head. 

“I am sir Zoro Roronoa, requested to aid your highness in defense, even if it is not entirely needed.” He said, the unfrequented formality feeling sticky in his throat. Still, it felt deserved for once. 

“Oh lord, raise your head already. I am hardly worthy of a bow, much less someone kneeling. ” The prince huffed, and when Zoro did as he asked and raised his head, he saw a brilliant flush covering the other man's face.

He offered a hand to the swordsman, who took it out of good grace. Still feeling a bit irked by the whole hair insult and practice dummy incident, Zoro grinned wickedly at the blonde and pressed a chaste kiss to the offered hand. The prince snatched it back to his chest, the red on his cheeks darkening along with the appearance of a scowl. 

“You do not like a man on his knees for you then, your grace?” Zoro quipped, snickering quirky. The prince scowled harder 

“You are as bad as sir Portgas! I ought to take care of you in the same manner as these ruffians!” The prince exclaimed, nearly snarling the words. 

Zoro laughed at him, then quickly ducked and rolled as an arrow nearly took his ear off. The prince turned around, looking annoyed at their attackers. 

“Gods! I cannot listen to another word! Shoot both the fools already!” One man screamed, brandishing a curved blade clumsily. 

The archers raised their bows, releasing a small rain of arrows on the two men. Quickly, Zoro stepped in front of his charge and unsheathed two of his three blades. In one quick movement, he took care of the airborne threats, turning to face the now fearful attackers. 

“So the swords are not simply for show.” The prince said, stepping up alongside Zoro. He raised a brow challengingly, nodding at the assassins. “Let’s see who is more fitting to be protecting whom, sir mossy.” 

“It is not moss!” Zoro growled, launching himself at the archers. He was able to dispatch most of them without even brandishing his third sword. 

The prince snickered, kicking one man under the chin with his foot and sending him flying. In a quick, elegant move he spun, catching 2 more with his long legs. 

Between the both of them, the threat was hardly even a threat. Zoro spent most of his time watching the blonde out of the corner of his eyes, noticing the preposterous ways he could bend bones. How on earth did such a high ranking man come to fight like a well-regarded knight and curse like the filthiest street trash? He wondered if he would have time to ask the man himself. The prince dispatched the last of the attackers, and Zoro mentally began the countdown. He was sure he had at least an hour now, but there was never an exact knowing with the curse. 

The prince turned to him, all smiles and sunshine, not even a speck of blood on his fine shirt. 

“So, sir moss. Are you hungry?”

-o-

So he was a prince that could fight, curse, and cook. Of all things. 

“I would like to start by saying I really am sorry I let Usopp borrow you.” The prince said, mixing something large and creamy in a wooden bowl. It was surprising how natural he looked, despite the fact that he had killed men not 10 minutes ago. 

“I feel like this Usopp person should be apologizing as well.” Zoro said, watching intently at the seemingly random things the blonde added to the bowl. 

“He probably should, but he is out gathering me herbs at the moment, and he’s quite frightened of you anyways.” 

“How can he be frightened of me? He has not even met me.” Zoro argued, still trying to work out what exactly the prince was concocting. Maybe nothing edible, perhaps he was actually a witch himself. 

The prince laughed, putting the bowl down to collect a few eggs and begin expertly cracking them. 

“Have you not seen yourself, sir moss? Even as stone, you have quite the unfriendly appearance.”

Zoro bared his teeth at the other man, something that usually inspired trepidation but only invoked an eye roll. 

“It is Roronoa. Zoro Roronoa.” He ground out, perplexed when the prince added honey to the bowl of mystery cream. 

“Ah! Where are my manners. I am Sanji Blackleg, of the house Baratie. A pleasure to properly meet you, sir Zoro.”

The prince, Sanji, bowed slightly with a flourish, the bowl still elegance held in one hand. He smiled genuinely at Zoro, and the swordsman swallowed. 

“Just Zoro is fine. I am not much in ways of the traditional knight anyways.” 

Sanji’s smile, already bright and vibrant, seemed to grow impossibly. 

“Well then you can call me Sanji. I am not much of a traditional prince myself.” 

Zoro laughed then, something he couldn’t recall doing in quite a while. Only Luffy had ever brought such quick amusement and quicker fondness within the swordsman before. 

“That is apparent. What are you even making, prince cook?” 

Sanji added something sweet smelling, making zoro's nose wrinkle. 

“I just gave you my name and already you ignore it. Is this punishment for the hair mistake? It really is a ridiculous color, you can’t fault me there.” 

The prince seemed far too smug for Zoro's liking, pretty smile or not. 

“Is it any more ridiculous than your eyebrows? I should ask if you have a curse as well with those things.” 

The swordsman was aware he was stepping into dangerous territory, insulting someone so high ranking. He found that he hardly cared though, the ease of the light hearted insults already forming something between the two men that Zoro greatly enjoyed. Sanji made an indignant sound, lips slipping away from a playful smirk into a small scowl. 

“Very funny sir mosshead. And I’ll have you know I’m making cakes. Pan fried ones too, they rise with the heat of the fire.” 

Now Zoro scowled slightly, the prospect of sugar unwelcoming. Sanji noticed immediately, his annoyed face morphing into that of honest confusion and slight hurt. 

“You do not want any?” He asked, voice terribly self conscious where it had been brash a moment ago. 

“No, I do,” Zoro rushed to explain. “I just do not have a fondness for sweets.” 

Instantly, Sanji cheered up, much to Zoro’s relief. He could only imagine that if the prince's smile evoked such strong emotions, his sadness could unwittingly command the swordsman to great lengths. 

“Then you’ll still enjoy these! Only honey and fruit for sweetness, and I’ve only just added very little honey. Very nearly a bread, rather than a cake. Perhaps I should rename them.”

Zoro shrugged, content to be where he was as a passenger to the prince's enjoyment. The man really seemed more a cook than a royal, moving about as if he were the definition of comfort, a bit of flour on his trousers. 

The harsh bite of reality blindsided the swordsman with the stiffness of his toes, and he cursed heartedly. 

“What? I don’t have to rename them if you are so adamant-

“No, forgive me, it’s not that.” Zoro interrupted. He held out a hand, showing the slightly gray tinge to the skin there. “My time is up.”

“But you have not eaten!” The prince cried. “God damnit, you have not eaten for weeks!” 

Standing, the swordsman had no good response to that. Being stone meant his body didn’t need food or drink, but he missed it mightily when he had the time to be hungry. He truly regretted not being able to have a cake, or bread thing. 

“They do not call it a curse because it is kind.” Zoro said gently, his legs hardening up to his knees. Sanji watched alongside the knight, horrified. The swordsman sighed, then grinned, thinking of an easy way to distract the blonde. “Until next time, curly.” He said. 

“Curly!?” The prince shrieked, much like a banshee. And the green haired man grinned wider, his eyes closing, and then nothing. 

-o-

It wasn’t the prince who Zoro next saw first; rather it was a young man with thick curly locks and an outrageous nose. 

The swordsman, itchy and still feeling slighted at not having eaten, drew his sword. If he was awake at all then that meant this person was dangerous. The man screamed immediately. 

“WAIT! Oh gods above, I am sorry for using you as target practice! I did not know you were alive- I beg your forgiveness!” 

He threw his hands up in both defense and plea, looking positively terrified. Zoro stilled himself, brow furrowed. 

“Target practice?” The knight muttered, confused. 

At that moment, the prince casually entered the room, nose buried in a pile of thick scrolls and unaware of Zoro's presence. The long nosed man cried out instantly. 

“Sanji! Tell him I did not know! Oh I am too young to die, I have not even had my first kiss!” He wailed miserably. 

Sanji, startled, raised his head to survey the situation. He paled at the image before him, dropping the many scrolls and sprinting to place himself between the men. Wrapping an arm protectively around the shaking long-nose, he faced the swordsman. 

“Do not harm him! I don’t know why you have been summoned this time, but I can assure you the cause is not Usopp.” The prince said sternly. 

The man, Usopp, clung to the blonde like a frightened child, large chocolate eyes on Zoro's sword. Frowning, the knight surveyed his prince with a critical eye, looking for signs of inflicted damage. 

“Then why have I been summoned?” Zoro asked, looking around. He did not sheath his sword, but did direct it away from Usopp. The long-nose and Sanji visibly relaxed at that.  

“Most likely for the annoyance at our gates, but it is being handled.” The prince said, patting Usopp on the head in a comforting way. He walked back to the pile of papers on the floor, reaching to pick them up with the help of the still frightened other man. 

“What is at the gates?” Zoro pressed, now fully sheathing wado to cross his arms. 

“It is an army! And it is not really being handled, Sanji.” Usopp said, still carefully positioning himself so the prince was between himself and the large green haired man. 

“It is being handled fine, Usopp. You simply worry too much.” The prince said, already back to intently reading his precious scrolls. 

“I would say I worry the correct amount, considering it is an army .” Usopp insisted. 

Zoro strode over to one of the long, iron barred windows in the room. He hadn’t yet seen much of the place he was in, but from what he had glimpsed the castle seemed on the small side, but welcoming and taken care of. Rich colors and simple furniture, rather than overly austere glamour in order to flaunt wealth. 

Now, he glanced beyond the warm courtyard to the heavy gate, where there were a number of men on each side.

“For fucks sake, Patty is antagonizing the enemy again. He’s going to get an arrow through his neck one day, I swear.” The prince muttered, moving to stand beside Zoro.

The swordsman looked at Sanji again, noting the dark circles under his eyes, his soft gold hair tangled and unkept in an unfamiliar way. He looked exhausted, and in a way that sleep could not cure.

“Who commands this army, and what do they want from your court?” Zoro asked, returning his gaze to the standoff at the gate. 

“A nobody duke of asshole, and to hell with what they want. The king and I have more important things to attend to than the selfishness of one man.” Sanji said tensely, the papers in his hand wrinkling at the harsh grip of his hands. He looked down at them in agitation, as if their crumpling was their own fault, and he huffed, turning to leave. 

“Shouldn’t I assist your men? I am a knight of your command, you realize.” The swordsman called after him. 

“I did not ask for a knight, and as I have said before I am in no need of one!” Sanji called over his shoulder, storming out of the room. 

Annoyed and confused at the cold attitude, Zoro could only turn to Usopp. The smaller man fidgeted in clear confliction, obviously torn between telling the knight something and returning to the safety of his prince's side. He seemed to gather himself though, reluctantly staying in the room. 

“He is upset because he blames himself for the attack. The duke wanted Sanji's hand in marriage, but the king refused him- as he was in the right to do so, might I add. Sanji and his father had a terrible row over it though, so moods have all gone a bit south.” The man explained, eyeing the entry way as he spoke quietly, clearing sharing information that was not meant to be discussed so openly. 

Zoro ground his teeth in renewed agitation. He could only imagine the situation for the prince- either be a trophy taken away from his home through violence or be given away by his own father like a prized cow. Yet another reason why the swordsman hated getting involved with politics and courts; love was hardly ever a card on the table and power was often just a social opinion. 

“Why doesn't the house Baratie simply kill this fool?” He asked Usopp, going back to looking out the window. It appeared as though two men were engaged in a type of tug-of-war with a spear, and somehow both of them were losing at the same time. Clearly not a very skilled army on both ends then. 

“The kingdom here is not all that powerful or large when it comes down to it, unfortunately. The king insists on giving most of his wealth to the people and the agricultural efforts of the land, and you can’t exactly pay soldiers with grain these days.” Usopp said, shrugging in a helpless manner. “Sanji keeps offering himself up for marriage so Baratie can form a strong alliance with someone, but his father will have none of it. This is the price though.” 

“Then what of the people? Can’t the king rally the able to come to his aid?” It wasn’t unheard of for loyal citizens to don armor for their lords and masters. It certainly sounded like the people would be fond of this royal family. 

“Sanji would rather die than see harm come to the citizens, especially the farmers. He’s always been like this- too stubborn for his own good and intent on playing some sort of martyr.” 

Usopp said the last party bitterly, and Zoro sensed a history of the long nosed man trying to convince the prince away from many overly selfless deeds, and failing. 

“Then tell me, what do you propose we do?” Zoro asked, gesturing to the army outside. 

Usopp looked surprised at his words, looking back and forth from the swordsman to the window, and then over his shoulder. As if Zoro might have been speaking to someone else. 

“You want my opinion?” He asked, perplexed. 

“You clearly know more about both the court and the prince than I do. And you were in this room for a reason, my guess being that it was for me. You must have some idea of how to dispose of the bastard, and with my sword available.” Zoro reasoned. 

“Oh.” Usopp began, suddenly looking even less sure of himself than ever. “Well to be honest- and do not be mad! I had planned on using your stone body as a way to barricade Sanji into a room for safety if it came to it.” 

Zoro gave him a deeply unimpressed look. Usopp shrugged, laughing nervously. 

“But I have a much better plan now! Although I fear you will also not like this one.” He continued quickly. 

The swordsman looked back out the window, then back at Usopp. He supposed he didn’t really have much of a choice, and he was growing rather fond of the strange, long-nosed man anyways. For his prince, the least he could do was give it his best try, to hell with bad ideas or not. 

“If it gets rid of the army outside, I don't care.” He said, shrugging. 

“Well you say that now,” Usopp mumbled. “But how do you feel about paint?”

Chapter Text

Sanji never claimed to be the best prince. He didn’t think he was all that horrible at it, but definitely a little eccentric. He was adopted for one, a typical no-no for the blue-bloods (not that Zeff was very noble in any way), and he spent all his time cooking. When he wasn’t cooking he was never in the castle, and hell, sometimes he even went to cook outside the castle too. But since no one seemed to have a problem with it he kept on being an untraditional and frankly unreliable prince. 

When he turned 16 Zeff had been firm about Sanji having a hand in the whole ruling business. That meant proper court days, where for some poor reason it was up to the young prince to decide the law for citizens of their land. He hated the fact that he knew the precise course of action for when someone claimed that a neighbor stole a sheep. Instead of perfecting his lemon custard recipe at the town's dining hall, he was dragged by the ear to all the agonizingly boring meetings. Well, no, he’d gotten out of attending those actually, but he’d very nearly been beheaded for flirting with that princess. The point was, he did not like being a prince all that much, and he was more than willing to not be one at all. He suspected that Zeff felt the same way about himself, making the whole thing only more ridiculous. 

What Sanji hadn’t known when he was 16, was that there had been a marriage proposal for him. And there continued to be marriage proposals for him, which he continued to be unaware of, all the way up until he was 18. That was around the time when two things happened; Usopp finally blabbed about the refused proposals, and Sanji experienced his very own and exciting assasination attempt. 

As if so happens, spoiled and stupid people get angry if they don't get what they want. 99% of all royals were just spoiled and stupid enough to decide that if Sanji wasn’t going to marry them, or at least be their consort, he shouldn’t be allowed to be with anyone . Now the king felt guilty, the prince felt annoyed, and no one in the castle was having lemon custard. A waste all around. 

The one thing - the last freedom that Zeff had allowed Sanji, had been to not get him a guard. They had both worked hard to ensure that the prince wouldn’t ever need one, and if anyone was doing the guarding it was Sanji, seeing as Usopp always seemed to find trouble like it was his personal mission to do so. The confidence in his own combative training meant that the prince had no reason to suspect his father had gone back on his word and gotten Sanji some sword-wielding gorilla, and so when a very strange and rather unappealing statue had appeared in the courtroom, he had simply shrugged. Only Zeff would manage to find a cursed knight, plant the man in his son's presence, and then not tell his son . 

Not that he disliked Zoro. Sanji really did think that that particular sword-wielding gorilla was interesting, if a bit unrefined and unwashed. It wasn’t like it was the knights fault or decision, and the prince felt quite bad for the man. Not only did he turn to stone, he had to protect someone who didn’t even want to be protected. 

Zeff should have just let one of the royal pricks have him. Sanji didn’t think it would be so miserable, so long as he could still cook. His weird family at Baratie would be safe and cared for, and the people wouldn’t go hungry, so who cared if Sanji had to live with someone he disliked? (He cared, but tried very hard not to.) It was probably going to happen one day. Zeff couldn’t say no and keep his land safe for forever.

Miserably, Sanji walked down the hallway. He wasn’t supposed to go outside, but no one could stop him from glaring at everyone from multiple different windows. Patty and Carne had begun to throw things at the soldiers beyond the gate, mostly the contents of their pockets, which was not as effective as they probably thought it was. Behind them, Usopp bounded over in obvious excitement, waving his arms and pointing behind him. Curious, Sanji followed his pointing and froze. 

Zoro, gray and still as the statue he appeared to be, stood on a makeshift cart. Though the prince didn’t know much about the rules of the knights curse, he had been sure that the man would remain flesh until whatever the latest threat was had passed. On top of that, he couldn’t think of any decent reason why Usopp would have the swordsman on a cart outside. Deciding to hell with being locked up like some fair maiden, Sanji turned away from the window, marching off to find out what was going on himself. 

He reached the main hall quickly enough, the whole place empty as everyone had gathered outside for the time being. Shoving the front doors open, he caught the tail end of his friend’s words. 

“-Decided to offer his lordship a gift!” Usopp proclaimed, speaking loudly and gesturing louder. He held the attention of both the men of Baratie and the opposition, again pointing at Zoro. 

Sanji put two and two together, and his jaw dropped in disbelief. 

“Usopp!” He yelled, pushing aside surprised members of the castle. He stormed up to his long time companion, pointing at him accusingly. “You cannot be suggesting something as horrible as giving that bastard of a duke sir Roronoa!” 

The younger man grimaced, looking over at Zoro worriedly, before returning Sanji’s gaze. 

“Sanji, I ask that you trust me for this.” Usopp said quietly. 

“I will not allow it!” Sanji cried, horrified that the other man would even suggest such a thing. “He is not a houseplant to be gifted away, despite his green coloring. And moreover, he has no say in the matter like this!” 

The prince gestured to the very still and very stone body of Zoro. The oddity of the man standing in a shitty little cart would have been amusing any other day, but that moment it just seemed mean. 

“ Please , Sanji,” Usopp whispered, placing a hand on the prince's shoulder. “You have known me for years, do you really think I would do something so terrible?”

That made the blonde pause. He had known the other man for years, the two of them stumbling upon each other in a mutual desire to help a noble woman named Kaya. Their friendship had honestly been one of the few great joys of Sanji’s life, and Usopp proved to be a skilled herbalist and engineer as well. The fact that he had endured the prince during the worst of his unwelcome puberty was testament to the strength of their bond. 

“ Trust me.” Usopp pleaded softly. 

Sanji looked back at the knight, then to his friend again. Biting his lip, he took a step back, nodding. He’d let Usopp continue as he wished, even if it appeared unwise. 

“Now, as I was saying,” Usopp went on, raising his voice to again direct the army's soldiers. “Sir Roronoa is a magical knight, known throughout the land for his skill! Only few in the world know the magic words to command him, and I, the great and mighty Usopp, am generously offering to gift them to his lordship.” 

A few of the soldiers began muttering to themselves, one in the front shoving and pointing, muttering about a messenger. Listening quietly, Sanji narrowed his eyes. 

“But do not just take my word for it! I ask the Duke to accept my gift and try the words himself- and then decide if such a gift could be worthy of his mighty being. Tell his lordship of this magnificent opportunity, for here are the secret words to unleash the power of sir Roronoa!” Usopp cried, grabbing a piece of rolled parchment from his tunic and holding it aloft dramatically. A few idiot soldiers gasped as if it were the holy grail itself. 

The commotion in the crowd beyond the gate grew, and a skinny fellow soon appeared, his white vest and simple flag bearing the title of messenger. He looked rather tired of the whole ordeal in Sanji’s opinion. 

“His lordship the duke wishes to accept the offer from master Usopp. You shall relinquish sir Roronoa and the magical scroll to him immediately.” He drawled, gesturing lazily to Zoro. 

The prince had a brief moment of panic, looking back to the knight in worry. He caught Usopp’s eye, and the man returned his gaze meaningfully. Sanji swallowed, but nodded. 

Zoro, still in the damned cart, was wheeled to the gate by Usopp and a few of the Baratie’s men. Soldiers immediately rushed to grab the cart, and the men of Baratie snarled at them to keep back, both parties tensed like alley cats ready to strike. The messenger took the sealed papers from Usopp, and the swordsman was wheeled away. Quickly lost among the other grays of armor and dust, until Sanji could barely see his head. 

The prince approached Usopp hurriedly, grabbing his arm. 

“Now what? Zoro might wake any moment to find himself surrounded by enemies! Not even I can guarantee his rescue against so many men.” Sanji whispered anxiously. 

“Be calm my friend, you needn’t worry.” And then Usopp smiled broadly, lifting a hand. “After all, we do not need to destroy an entire army to win this battle. Only one man.” 

Sanji blinked, eyes moving to Usopp’s calloused hand. He felt his eyes widening in sudden understanding, his face morphing into that of it's own grin. 

There, on the other man’s dark hand, were splotches of fresh, gray paint. 

-o-

Keeping still was not such a difficult thing for Zoro. Before he had been cursed, he had often practiced meditation in his spare time, the opportunity to clear his mind and relax a rare treat. Now, having barely the opportunity to even sit down, meditation was far from an option. He hoped this was not the only chance he got for the practice ever again, for if so it would be a sad outcome. 

As the soldiers wheeled him to the assumed location of the duke, Zoro considered his prince yet again. The more he learned about Sanji, the more intrigued he was by the man and all his many layers. Having served quite a number of kings and lords and even a few noble ladies, the swordsman was aware of how odd it was for a royal to be anything other than selfish and petty. A prince who refused aid, cooked as if he were a member of the staff, and prioritized others was not just rare- it was unheard of. Whoever Sanji fully was, Zoro was beginning to understand that he wanted to learn to know this strangely charming prince. Unusual eyebrows and all. 

The cart came to a sudden halt, and the swordsman resisted the urge to open his eyes. Someone, Zoro assumed the messenger, began addressing someone else in a long winded speech that was worthy of bile. 

“And so it is a great honor that you are bestowed this knight, m’lord, and all his magical powers to defeat those that would harm your gloriousness! You have been bequeathed this scroll of secret words, for your eyes alone.” The man prattled on. 

“Well it’s about time one of those uncultured swines sends a proper gift.” A man said, sniffing haughty. Zoro guessed it was the duke. “Perhaps we shall use this knight to attack that foolish king. We shall make him see reason and send his son to me.” 

Zoro bit his tongue, reminding himself to wait. The sound of crinkling paper reached his ears, and he nearly grinned. 

“Now for those magic words! Let us see what secrets reveal themselves to me.” The duke gibbered, the rip of a seal popping open as he spoke. “Ah, let’s see. Sir Roronoa, I surrender. Well that is an odd phrase to use. Did it work?” 

Zoro, finally permitted to do so, opened his eyes slowly. 

“M’lord, the knight awakens! It has worked!” The messenger said. 

“Marvelous! Sir Roronoa, I command you to retrieve the prince for me.” The duke instructed, pointing towards the castle. 

Zoro surveyed the man coolly. He was the typical mix of pompous and spoiled, hair done in a stupid fashions with so many layers of silk on his body that he looked like a frosted cake. He wore a ridiculous fake sword on his hip, and was mounted on the most miserable pony Zoro had ever seen in his life. 

“No.” The swordsman said simply. “I do not think I will.” 

“Wonderful! Now go- wait, what?” The duke paused, registering zoros words. “What do you mean no ?” 

“Perhaps you need to use the magic words again, m’lord!” The messenger piped up. 

“Oh yes, sir Roronoa, I surrender . There, did that work?” 

Slowly, Zoro drew his swords, a wicked smile spreading over his painted face. 

“ I surrender. Halt, I say! I surrender !” The duke continued, a fine sheen of sweat overtaking his ugly face. 

“My prince accepts your surrender,” Zoro said lowly, his teeth bared in a vicious grin. He took a meaningful step forward, and the duke squeaked. Pointing wado’s tip at the man's neck, the knight relished the way the bastard shook atop his unhappy mount.

“But I shall accept your head.” 

-o-

It was not a difficult thing to convince the soldiers to leave after killing their master. After all, most of the gathered people only had the interest of coin at the end of the day, and their loyalty did not extend to a dead man who could no longer pay them. That, and the ones closest to Zoro did not think it worth dying over, and their leave influenced the rest to follow. There was now a duke's residence up for grabs as well. 

Zoro was rather proud of himself and Usopp. Only one man had to die and now everything was relatively safe, even if the gray paint was unpleasant and sticky. Making his way between the remaining unbothered and uncaring soldiers, the swordsman spotted Sanji pushing through the slightly open gate, walking at a brisk pace towards him. Usopp was hot on his heels, grinning. 

“I am a genius!!” The long nosed man yelled, running up to thump Zoro on the back. He hooted and hollered triumphantly, and the knight chuckled at his enthusiasm. 

“You are exceptionally lucky is what you are.” The prince said, turning from his still exuberant friend to Zoro. “Had the duke possessed even a hint of intelligence this would have ended very differently.” 

“Is that how you say ‘thank you’?” The swordsman asked, raising a paint covered brow at the blonde. 

Sanji but his lip, looking away. Usopp, sensing the tension between the two, muttered something about collecting fallen weapons and hurried off. 

“I do not understand why you would aid us. If the battle had drawn itself out, you would have been able to live your life normally for a bit. And my fate is hardly any concern of yours.” The prince said quietly. 

Zoro took his bandana from his arm, wiping at his face to get some of the paint off. Sanji handed him a handkerchief, which was so pristine and white that the swordsman felt unwilling to touch it. Eventually he took it anyways, cleaning himself quickly as best he could. 

“Any freedom taken for oneself at the price of another is never worth it.” He said, looking at the now ruined cloth. There was a small, haphazard embroidered S at the corner of the cotton, which Zoro found sweet looking.  

“That still doesn’t explain why you decided to help me.” Sanji pressed. 

Zoro looked at him. It was unusual to receive a type of grief in response to a victory, and the swordsman was unsure how best to respond. However, he remembered the look of the prince, smiling his dangerous smile in the soft light of the kitchens. 

“I never got to eat your cakes.” The knight said, having forgotten. 

“What?” Sanji asked, confused at the turn of topics. 

“Your cakes.” Zoro continued. “I have not eaten in a very long while now, and they would be greatly appreciated.” 

They both looked at each other for a moment before the prince heaved a sigh. 

“You kill a man and then ask for cakes.” Sanji murmured, shaking his head in disbelief. There was the beginning of a smile at his lips though. 

“You killed plenty of men and then cooked the cakes yourself, as I recall.” Zoro pointed out. 

Sanji let out a short laugh, a hand running through his already disheveled hair. He looked better in that moment than he had the entire day, and the swordsman felt a swell of pride that he had been one of the reasons for that. 

“Very well, sir moss. Let me reward my noble champion with his cakes, eh?” 

Zoro smiled, the dry paint still itching uncomfortably in some places. He was sure he would return to stone in a bit, but for once, he found he didn’t mind so much. The prospect of food made by such an odd but magnetic person seemed to outweigh it. 

“Lead the way then, cook.” 

Chapter Text

It did not take long for the swordsman to become attached to the prince. Between the always-available treats the man seemed to have ready for him, and their entertaining back and forth, it wasn’t hard to form a type of friendship. Sanji had even begun to get a knack for keeping Zoro from returning to stone, keeping attackers alive and angry, but rather injured. It didn’t mean the knight could remain free as he wished, but it was better than it had been before. Many things were better thanks to the prince. 

Zoro did not have many companions really. His personality was not the friendliest, and his skill set was entirely based on violence. Luffy and Ace were his closest friends, but the brothers were so sporadic and chaotic in their lifestyles that trying to keep up with them was almost impossible. It was far easier to let them come to you than attempt at locating them, especially Luffy. 

Now he had Sanji and Usopp, two people willing to watch his back the same way the D brothers did, but in vastly different ways. The swordsman had never really been taken care of before, and though he would argue it was unnecessary, it was still nice. Something as simple as a blanket draped over his stone shoulders so that he could awaken with a bit of warmth was astounding to him. 

“And I said to him, ‘check mate, sir!’ and he offered me his most prized possession; a phoenix egg! But do not ask me what I did with the egg, that is a secret between me and the unborn bird.” Usopp said, finishing up one if his many far-fetched tales. The three of them were gathered in the kitchen to be rid of the coming winter's chill, Sanji making them cider. 

“What do you think a Phoenix tastes like?” The prince mused, handing Zoro a warmed pewter goblet. Usopp took his as well. 

“You cannot eat a Phoenix! It would burn you to a crisp from the inside out.” The storyteller argued. 

“I did not say I would go and eat one, I simply wondered at what it would taste like.” Sanji explained, wrapping his long fingers around his own goblet. 

Zoro watched him sip at his cider, a small smile gracing his face at the spiced drink. The prince was wrapped in a thick cloak of midnight blue that made his eyes look like sea foam waves, and the gentle pink at his cheeks due the cold contrasted vividly. He looked more like a fae than a royal, or perhaps a kind spirit. 

They had spared for the first time only the other day, having not had the opportunity before. Only a few jabs at each other’s skills and the two had decided to put their strength to the test. Though no winner could be decided, Zoro left the trampled grass feeling as though he had achieved something remarkable, placing the flush of exertion on the prince's face like how some people leave flowers with their sweethearts. 

“If it supposedly never dies, only reforms from fire and ash, then I would think it would taste quite dry.” Usopp murmured, a thoughtful hand on his chin. 

“I think you are right. Best stick to the young and dependent chickens.” Sanji said, nodding to himself. Zoro grinned at him. 

“What if you made something with the egg? Perhaps Usopp can lend it to you.” The knight reasoned, casting a cheeky glance at the youngest in the room. 

“I told you, the egg’s whereabouts are a secret , sir knight.” Usopp sniffed, returning to his cider eagerly. He then nudged his empty cup towards the cook. 

Sanji laughed, taking the cup and holding his hand out at Zoro for his. The knight passed it, their fingers brushing just long enough for Zoro to register the soft warmth of the prince's skin. The swordsman pulled his hand back quickly.

He was unfortunately aware of the direction his feelings had begun to turn in, when it came to his prince. Only an hour or so ago, he had watched the blonde kick some thug through the window, and it had been such a strangely beautiful sight that the swordsman had nearly been stabbed in his distraction. Though he had never been in love, he could guess that that was where he was headed if he didn’t watch himself. Sanji was far too much of everything Zoro liked, from his ability to kill a man to his insistence on cooking five course meals for the servants. The green haired man had even caught Sanji feeding the mice one day, something he had never even thought to find endearing. It did not help that the prince was unfairly nice looking, because even if Zoro didn’t care much for that sort of thing, he was only human. 

“Oi, Zoro, your arm!” Usopp exclaimed, startling the other two men. 

Looking down, the swordsman was shocked to see nearly half his arm was already hardened stone. He hadn’t been aware of it at all, and he quickly stood, cautious of being stuck in a sitting position. His now frozen right arm stayed as it had been, leaning at an angle.  

“But it has not yet been an hour!” Sanji said, getting up as well to examine the knight. They all watched in distress as the grey crept it's way up Zoro's skin, his feet beginning to solidify like concrete. 

“Perhaps it is because of the cold?” Usopp guessed, ushering Zoro uselessly towards the hearth. 

“That has never affected it before.” The swordsman said, not even daring to shake his head, lest his neck get stuck at an uncomfortable position. 

“We have always had more time than this.” Sanji murmured, looking at Zoro with large, unhappy eyes. “Hurry, before you turn, how long have you had this curse exactly?” 

Zoro closed his eyes. He was not fond of remembering his youth, full of destruction due to his improper channel for grief. The time before he had met Luffy and Ace had been a dark blur of time, empty without Kuina. But it had been when he was 17 that he had made a mistake that was larger than the rest, and paid dearly for it. 

“Nearly two years now.” He said carefully. 

Sanji and Usopp looked at each other. The storyteller grimaced. 

“I do not know much about cursed people, but the stories I hear always include a kind of time limitation.” Usopp said slowly. “Perhaps-

Unable to hear the rest as the darkness claimed him, Zoro could only guess at his words. The harsh truth of the matter, which he had always known would creep up on him like the stone on his flesh. 

He was running out of time. 

-o-

“Usopp knows a witch!” Sanji shouted, jarring Zoro from his latest unwanted slumber. 

“What?” The swordsman grunted, still blinking away the fog. He looked around, noting he was no longer in the kitchens. He wondered who had dragged his heavy stone body down the hallway. There was an enormous man in the entryway, so large he was having trouble making it into the simple hearing room. 

“Well, he knows of a witch.” The prince corrected himself, moving to dust off something on Zoro's head. “But that’s still better than nothing, and we did not suspect you knew many yourself.” 

The swordsman frowned at the prince, then the large man stuck in the doorway. There was a high-pitched scream from somewhere behind the brute, and then the sound of retreating footsteps. The man pushed himself back, turned, and then followed the retreater. 

“Do not lead him away, Usopp! Circle back!” Sanji called, not seemingly concerned that his friend was being chased by a half giant. 

A few moments later, the storyteller came sprinting into the room, barreling into Zoro and nearly toppling him over. Behind him, the large man let out a frustrated yell at being unable to pursue his prey. 

“That beast of a man has an axe the size of me .” Usopp panted, still out of breath from running.

“Nevermind the fellow, tell sir mosshead about the witch.” Sanji said, waving dismissively at the man still attempting his way inside. 

Usopp took a moment to catch his breath before turning to Zoro. He eyed the doorway warily, but spoke at Sanji's insistence. 

“Yes, the witch- or I think she is a witch. The rumor is that she can make it rain with magic, but only for those with the coin to pay her.” He explained. 

Frowning, Zoro turned back to Sanji. The prince shrugged. 

“Like I said, still better than nothing.” The blonde muttered. 

The three of them turned to survey the giant of a man now fully stuck in the doorway. He didn’t seem overly bothered at his predicament, and neither did the others. Zoro turned to Sanji again. 

“I have no way of finding this witch, much less paying her. Hell, I can hardly even go down the halls freely.” He pointed out. 

“Usopp still has his cart, and I have far too much gold. Where is your sense of adventure, sir knight?” Sanji teased. The swordsman frowned. 

“I cannot ask you to drag me all over the countryside for nothing but a rumor. Your father would not have it either.”

At that, Sanji's smile disappeared and his expression hardened. 

“I am not a child, Zoro. The king has made many decisions for me, but I will decide this one. You are my friend and I want to help you, so we’re going.” 

The knight groaned, rubbing at his face. He should have seen this coming, what with Sanji's need to place others before himself. 

“I hate to bring it up, but neither of us have ever ventured outside of the kingdom…” Usopp pointed out, earring a glare from the prince. 

“Well it’s just walking , isn’t it? How hard can it be?” Sanji said, crossing his arms stubbornly. 

Usopp and Zoro shared a look. It seemed neither of them were willing to point out the many flaws in the plan, so instead they turned to look at the man in the door. The prince sighed heavily, rummaging around in his pockets until he produced a small bag of coins. 

“Your services are no longer needed, sir. Please remove yourself from my entryway.” He said, tossing the bag at the large man. 

Everyone blinked at the blonde, including the stuck man. 

“…I thought I was hired to kill you.” The man said slowly, in a much, much higher pitched voice than Zoro had expected. 

“You were. But I have finished my conversation, so I do not need to be in danger any longer.” Sanji said, gesturing at himself casually. 

“You hired a mercenary to attack yourself!?” Usopp and Zoro exclaimed at the same time. 

“Well I was not going to just wait around for someone to come! And it’s not as if bandits or ruffians keep a schedule.” The prince huffed. He turned back to the man in the door. “But really, get out. I want to make tea and I do not fancy climbing out the window.” 

Zoro, incredulous, could only stare at the blonde. Usopp seemed just as speechless, catching the knight's eye in a brief moment of shared dumbfoundedness. 

“You know, I think an adventure could actually be quite fun! Just imagine, the three of us, young men braving the wilds!” Sanji said, his eyes lighting up at all the imagined and fanciful prospects. 

The storyteller and the swordsman shared yet another wary look. The man in the door grunted, unable to reach his bag of coin. 

“Can someone give me a shove?” He asked. “I really am quite stuck.” 

-o-

Whatever kind of ‘adventure’ the prince wanted, he did not receive. As it turned out, the countryside was full of all manner of creatures both deadly and magical, and Zoro was called upon frequently to aid the blonde and the long nose. Usopp proved to be quite adept at a bow and arrow, and Sanji was plenty strong, but it became immediately clear that he was useless when it came to one particular enemy. 

“Dear god, KILL it! Kill it quickly!!” The prince shrieked, clinging to Zoro for dear life. 

The knight held the prince securely in one arm, hating the fact that he had to fight down a blush in the current circumstances. Sanji's body fit against his in a way he did not wish to dwell on, and so he gripped his sword more securely and grit his teeth. 

“I cannot kill every insect we come across!” Zoro said, trying to spot the large centipede that had the cook so distraught. 

“Then Usopp will, and I will make him my knight!” Sanji cried, half climbing up Zoro's side as if he were a tree. The swordsman hefted the prince higher, letting him clamber on him as he wished. 

Usopp was not exactly helping. Quite the opposite of Sanji, the man had found he was rather interested in the crawling creatures, going so far as to pick them up. Zoro did not have the heart to tell the prince this. 

“Why don’t you just ride the horse?” The knight grunted, struggling to keep Sanji balanced in his one arm. 

“She is tired from pulling your stone ass! I would not be so cruel as to break her back just for a bit of comfort.” The prince said, managing to haul himself part ways atop the swordsman's shoulders. 

“So you will break mine instead?” Zoro grumbled, wishing Usopp would stop examining the plants already. 

“…am I really causing you discomfort?” Sanji asked, finally stilling. 

The swordsman sighed, sheathing his sword. He was not going to find the damned bug to kill, but neither was he going to put Sanji down. 

“No, you are not. But stop trying to climb me, just- here.” Zoro grabbed the prince by the waist with both hands, then wrapped one under his knees and the other behind his back. “Now just be still and…” 

He realized his mistake immediately. Sanji looked much like a stunned deer, hands held awkwardly in his lap as Zoro held him like a storybook princess. In the position they were in, the man's soft gold hair tickled the swordsman's chin, and his shoulder brushed right up against Zoro's leather-clad chest. It was far too intimate a position, and to make matters worse, Sanji had begun to blush. 

Panicking, the knight looked around for some safe place to place the prince. Usopp was still babbling to himself about a damned fern he was examining. 

“Where did you say this witch lived again?” Zoro asked the herbalist desperately. 

Usopp finally seemed to remember the other men, and turned to them. His eyebrows shot up at their position, but he blessedly remained silent on that subject. 

“Just a bit within the great woods! I think. I do not believe I’ve ever heard of a witch that did not live in the woods, actually.” He said, glancing off into the distance at said woods. 

“And you still have your gold?” Zoro asked the prince, looking down at him and instantly regretting it. 

Sanji was still so close to him, his cheeks a soft red. His large blue eyes flickered quickly away from the knight, as if caught staring. He cleared his throat awkwardly. 

“Ah, yes, it is in the saddle bag.” The blonde said, louder than necessary. “Actually, I believe I will ride the horse for a bit. Just until we get out of this field.” 

He fidgeted in Zoro's arms until they both clumsily separated, equally red faced. Sanji made quick work of skipping over the ground warily, mounting the horse in one motion. 

The moment the prince was atop the steed, Zoro could feel his body stiffen. He frowned, wondering if the danger that had kept him flesh had truly been the insects, and not some unseen beast he had assumed was stalking them. Glancing at the prince, the swordsman tried to remember if his curse had ever been so specific to another person before. 

They managed to clear the field before Zoro needed to get in the cart, his body unhelpfully heavy and stiff. 

“Not much longer now, sir moss.” Sanji whispered, and then nothing. 

-o-

The next time he awoke it was not pleasant. Usually, when returning to his wholly human body, it was blessedly quick. All his limbs and senses came swiftly, making it easy to slip into a defensive or offensive position. This time, he could not move. 

“Zoro, can you hear me?” Sanji said from somewhere near him. It was with great effort that he pried one eye open, the image of the blonde blurry for far too long before it cleared. 

He grunted, working his jaw as best he could until he was able to open his mouth a little. It was nearly impossible though. 

“Where-“ the swordsman tried, but could not get further than that. He was growing anxious, unable to move and therefore unable to defend the prince. 

“No harm will come to you in my home, swordsman.” A voice said calmly, it’s tone unfamiliar and feminine. 

Trying again to speak, Zoro calmed his mind and inhaled deeply through his nose. His chest could not expand properly. 

“Witch?” He asked, leaving the rest for those in the room to explain. 

“I suppose that is what I am, yes. Now answer my questions as best you can before my potion wears off.” The supposed witch said. 

“She needs to know what you did to anger the curse makers.” Usopp said, his voice coming from Zoro's blind side. 

Zoro glanced around the room, his one working eye settling on the still fuzzy image of a woman. Her hair was a brilliant orange, cropped short and practical. All other details of her appearance were unclear. 

“Killed- her lover.” The swordsman ground out, avoiding looking at Sanji. 

“And what did she say when she cursed you? You must be exact and truthful with me.” The witch urged. 

Struggling further to keep his jaw moving, Zoro continued as best he could. 

“Heart, is stone. So too, I be.” He tried. 

There was silence for a moment before the witch was able to grasp his meaning. 

“She said your heart is stone, so too shall you be?”

Zoro made a noise of consent, suddenly exhausted. His jaw practically burned from the effort of just speaking. 

The room grew heavy with the quiet of everyone thinking. The swordsman closed his eye, feeling more and more unsure by the minute. Perhaps this would be the moment Sanji decided that Zoro was not as good a man as he thought, and that he was better left behind. Perhaps the witch would keep him. 

“Wonderful. It’s one of those ancient phrases from the days of new magic.” The witch muttered, not sounding pleased. “There is no easy way to say this; you cannot break the curse yourself.” 

That was not good news. But, it was not very surprising either. Zoro had accepted his punishment already, and had always known that it was his fate to die in an unnatural way, what with his lifestyle. He had not imagined dying quite so young, but this was his own price to pay. 

“Please.” Sanji’s voice, quiet and filled with soft desperation. “He does not deserve to die.”

If Zoro had not been unable to move, he would have turned to stare at his prince. Surely by now it would be apparent that the swordsman was not nearly good enough to stand beside such a kind and generous person as the prince. 

“Confident of that, are you?” The witch asked challengingly. 

“I am.” The prince replied immediately. “I have glimpsed enough of his heart to know it is not stone. Whatever price there was to pay, he has paid it in full.”

You are wrong , Zoro wanted to say. I have learned nothing. I am a creature of selfishness. 

There was silence again, with the swordsman being unable to speak, and the others at a standstill. Finally, the witch sighed, and spoke. 

“I said he could not break the curse himself . Not that it could never be broken.” She said briskly. “The curse maker called his heart stone- that is the root of the curse. It stands to reason then, that if the swordsman loved someone deeply enough, and they loved him back, he could not have such a cold heart after all. Prove the curse maker wrong, and the curse cannot hold.”

“Of course!” Usopp cried. “The oldest magic in history has always been love!” 

Zoro would have gagged if he had been able to. He was not one for such flowery fairy tales, and at the moment was deeply uncomfortable in many different ways. The place the conversation was moving towards was very, very dangerous. 

“So all we need to do is find the mosshead someone he can love?” Sanji asked, sounding confused. “Surely there has already been someone.” 

The silence clearly meant that Zoro was supposed to answer that. Mentally grimacing, he tried once again to unclench his stiff mouth. The answer would not be what anyone wanted to hear. 

“Dead.” He managed, effectively making the silence uncomfortable. 

“It’s quite finicky anyways, this one.” The witch said, steering the conversation. “With curses as literal as these- heart of stone, and then actual stone transformation, the curse will most likely require some overly dramatic show of faith. True love's kiss would be a good place to start quite honestly.” 

Sanji made a syrupy sweet cooing noise over that. 

“True love’s kiss! Ah, such romanticism.” He gushed, sounding starstruck by the idea. Zoro wasn’t surprised by the response, he had seen the books the prince read in his spare time. All horribly cliche tales of the hero who slayed the beast and won the heart of the fair maiden. 

The swordsman was now less a fan of the topics at hand than he had been when they started. He did not want to be thrown upon some bullshit quest to find the love of his life when he was already quite sure he was falling in love with the prince. There was not going to be any true love’s kiss nonsense, and he certainly would not be attempting anything of the sort with strangers. 

“So…we arrange for Zoro to, uh, meet potential lovers?” Usopp asked cautiously. 

The swordsman tried to make a noise that signified a negative to that, but he only managed a distressed hum. 

“Oh! We can host a ball! Invite all the prominent young ladies of the land!” Sanji exclaimed, now sounding far too excited. Zoro tried again at making some sort of sound that expressed a dear gods, please no . 

“We could invite lady Kaya and ask her if she knows anyone!” Usopp said, joining the prince in excitement. The swordsman tried to shake his head desperately. 

“We shall spread the news throughout the kingdom- the tragic knight in search of love! There will be people lined up outside the castle in no time.” The prince continued, unaware of the torment he was causing the green haired man. 

There must be another way , Zoro thought desperately. Cut off an arm, kill a monster. Anything but this.  

“If the swordsman can no longer speak, my potion has nearly worn off.” The witch warned, cutting off Usopp and Sanji’s excited prattle. 

“Do not worry, Zoro! We shall take care of everything.” Usopp said, patting the swordsman on the shoulder. 

“Yes, you needn’t worry about a thing.” Sanji added, placing his hand on the other shoulder. 

Zoro had never prayed before, but he considered doing so then. Heaven above, he would rather die than attend a ball. 

“Sleep well, swordsman. It seems you are in capable hands. Now, about my payment.” The witch said.

The last thing Zoro heard was the sound of clinking metal, sharp and cold in the dark. 

Chapter Text

Sanji loved parties. He especially loved planning them, feeling a great sense of accomplishment when everything came together to form one magical night of celebration. The clothes, the food, the dancing , oh he reveled in it all. To see so many people of the town and court in one place, delighting in his food and enjoying themselves, was utter perfection for the prince. He liked nothing better than making people happy, and parties were the greatest opportunity to do so. 

Usopp was the perfect partner in crime for planning an excellent celebration. He knew just who to tell to make sure the word spread, and he knew just what to say to make the news the topic of choice. Sometimes, if he had the time, he even made wonderful posters to leave at the inns and pubs. 

“Do you suppose five cakes will be enough?” Sanji asked, hands covered in batter as he mixed the filling. His head still ached from where Zeff had kicked him, unbelievably angry that the young prince had left the castle without telling anyone. Sanji preferred to ask for forgiveness than permission though, and he had no regrets. 

From where he was, Usopp looked over his shoulder to assess the number of cakes. He was holding up shirts against Zoro’s stone body, trying to picture him in the different fabrics. The prince was far more concerned about if they would be able to get the swordsman to a bath or not. 

“You have already made six different types of puddings, have you not?” The storyteller pointed out. 

“Yes, but that was pudding .” Sanji argued. 

Usopp grabbed a garish looking hat and stuck it on Zoro’s unknowing head. After a moment he replaced it with one that had a silly looking feather on its side. 

“Five cakes is plenty, Sanji. Now tell me, which hat looks better?” 

The prince put his bowl down to step up beside the other man, surveying the swordsman. Zoro did not look very happy, but he did not usually look anything other than grouchy. Sanji suspected that if the knight knew they were playing dress up with him, there would not be a ball at all, rather a funeral. 

“What do you suppose he looks for in a lover?” The blonde found himself asking, his eyes following the lines of the swordsman's stone face. The sharp curve of his cheekbones framed the way to his strong jaw, and the prince had to admit the man was handsome, if in a gruff way. It would not be so difficult to find someone for him, surely. 

“I can hardly say. Perhaps he has never had one before?” Usopp wondered, placing yet another unflattering hat upon the swordsman's head. 

“I thought knights were supposed to be notorious heartbreakers.” Sanji groused, thinking of all his favorite stories. Briefly he even remembered sir Portgas and his dangerous charm. Still, it was hard to picture Zoro going about the land offering flowers to all the sweet smiles. 

There was a familiar clomping sound of someone making their ways into the kitchens, the uneven gate telling the prince who it was even before his father came through the entryway. 

Zeff looked suspiciously at the prince, before passing a blank look at the image of Usopp putting hats on the stone knight's head. 

“Why are Patty and Carne decorating the hall?” The king asked. Usopp moved to stand a bit behind Zoro. 

“Because guests will be arriving later, and it looked atrocious.” Sanji sniffed, picking up his bowl again to aggressively mix the filing. 

“I do not recall saying you could have guests.” Zeff growled. 

“You said nothing more than that I was to stop leaving the castle. You never specified that others could not come in .” 

The king gave his son a long-suffering look. He sighed greatly, turning again to take in the stone knight. 

“I am tempted to blame the swordsman for all this.” The king muttered, rubbing at his temples. He turned to leave, throwing one last glance over his shoulder. “And five cakes is hardly enough, eggplant.” 

“I know that!” Sanji shouted at the now empty doorway. He whirled on Usopp accusingly. “I told you!” 

There was another commotion down the opposite hall, and a servant boy burst into the room. To his credit, he did not bat an eye at the stone man with his ridiculous hat, or the prince covered in bits of flour. 

“Your highness! Word from town has just come in, there is a group of bandits planning to appear at the ball!” He cried, out of breath. 

“Wonderful!” Sanji said, smiling to himself. “Now I do not even need to hire the mercenary again.” Everything really was beginning to come together splendidly. 

The servant boy scurried off, clearly confused and still nervous. Usopp sighed, gathering up his oddly large collection of bad hat wear. 

“I do not think sir Zoro would be pleased about the bandits.” He muttered, slipping out of the kitchen. 

“And I do not think he would be pleased about the hats!” Sanji shouted after him. 

Usopp did not respond, which was fine. After all, the prince had more cakes to make. He glanced over at his only companion in the room, the swordsman's gray face seeming to judge him even in it's immobility. 

“Do not look at me like that, I am doing this for you.” The prince grumbled. 

-o-

Zoro did now know what to expect after the visit to the witch, but it most certainly was not to awaken with a champagne flute shoved in his hand, a hat upon his head, and a crowd of women around him. 

They all gaped at him quite rudely, a few exclaiming in surprise and shock. One rather old lady poked at his arm curiously. Zoro looked around wildly, deeply confused and not at all pleased. 

It was a ball. Of course it was, because why would the universe ever listen to his plea? And for god's sake, why was he wearing a hat? He ripped it off, examining the ugly thing before tossing it on a nearby serving tray. Downing the bubbly alcohol, he put the overly delicate flute down as well, turning about to try and locate the prince. 

The blonde man was dancing joyfully with what looked like multiple ladies of the court at once. Zoro wanted to say the cook was making a fool of himself, but he took hands and spun expertly, never letting one of his partners feel neglected. He laughed exuberantly along with the women, and they all appeared to be having a lovely time. It took what felt like ages but Sanji finally noticed Zoro, standing like a lost child in his dirty leathers and annoyance. 

“Zoro!” He called, untangling himself from the puffy skirts of the dance floor. He trotted up to the swordsman, grasping him by the arm with a large smile. “How long have you been awake? Did you meet the lovely Connis yet? Or perhaps the enchanting Viola? Where is your drink! And you must eat, of course.” 

Unable to get a word in, Zoro could only be dragged around as Sanji began introducing him to people and shoving things at him to consume. The swordsman could not tell what the prince's priority was- to have him meet women to feed him. At least putting food in his mouth spared him from talking to the overly curious people now back to gawking at him. 

“Sir Roronoa, do tell us, have you ever fought such beasts like that of a dragon?” One woman, Connis perhaps, asked. 

Zoro swallowed down some sort of quiche the prince was insistent he eat at least 4 of. As far as he was aware, only Luffy had ever seen a dragon. According to the young adventurer, it had been no larger than a goat. Then again, Luffy had also claimed to have met a talking skeleton, so perhaps he was not the most reliable recounter of events. 

“Not particularly, but I have killed many large men.” The swordsman responded. A large man and a beast were not so different, and Zoro really did not like to kill animals unless he had to anyways. Most were rather gentle and just wanted to be left alone. 

There was an awkward silence as the crowd of gentry guests looked around uncomfortably. Beside him, Sanji laughed in a forced manner. 

“Ah, sir Zoro, how amusing! And tell us, have you been to many far off lands?” The prince asked, giving Zoro an encouraging look. 

The knight scowled at him. Sanji knew perfectly well that Zoro did not remember most of the places he had been, having either wound up in the wrong place when traveling or stuck in some strange castle in temporary service to a king. 

“What are the hobbies of a knight exactly? Do you practice any of the musical arts, sir Roronoa?” One young lady asked eagerly. 

“I do not have time for hobbies, as I am most often stone these days. Now, if you will excuse us.” Zoro said, grabbing the prince by the elbow and leading him away. He grabbed a pint of ale off a tray as he walked, taking a generous sip. 

“You are not even trying!” Sanji scolded, grabbing his own cup of wine. He held it elegantly in his long fingers, scowling over top it’s brim at the knight. 

“I do not wish to entertain a group of bored gentlewomen like some sort of jester, curly.” He replied evenly, looking around for Usopp. 

The storyteller looked to be engaged deeply in conversation with a fair and somewhat fragile looking woman in soft yellow. The two leaned in towards one another, oblivious to the rest of the world.

“They are only trying to get to know you a bit- that is how courting works .” The prince huffed. 

“I do not want to court them!” Zoro countered, growing more and more agitated by the minute. “I want to know why I am even awake, because it means there is trouble nearby!” 

“I have it under control!” Sanji said harshly, gulping down the rest of his wine. Zoro matched him, finishing his ale and grabbing another from a servant. “How do you expect to gain the favor of someone if you are unwilling to open yourself up to the simplest of conversation?” 

The swordsman frowned at the blonde, taking note of how he looked for the first time that night. He was wearing a very fine suit of dark blue with gold, and a thin and modest crown that blended in with the natural shine of his hair. Like the rest of what Zoro had seen of Baratie, the prince matched the simple, perfect elegance that seemed so natural for him and his kingdom. The swordsman could only imagine how unkempt he must look in comparison. He probably still had blood on his clothes for fucks sake. 

“I do not want to gain anyone’s favor with false words and silly gestures, cook.” He said tiredly. “I am not good at flattery and hardly have the patience for all the social rules of nobility. What good would it do to talk to these people, only for them to realize I have nothing they want?” 

Sanji looked crestfallen. It pained the swordsman to see him upset when only a moment ago he had been joyful, but Zoro did not know what to do either. He could not tell the prince he had feelings for him, but he could also not pretend to gain affections for those he did not care for. He was well and truly fucked. 

“But do you not think love is worth trying for?” Sanji asked quietly, and Zoro felt his heart ache painfully. 

“I do not think I am much worthy of love at all, my prince. If I was, perhaps I would not have been cursed in the first place.” 

Sanji made a frustrated noise, grabbing at more wine and then looking at it angrily. 

“Your heart is not made of stone, Zoro. You simply killed the wrong person, and I do not care about that. I kill men all the time, should I be cursed as well?” The prince asked, looking back up into the knight's eyes. His blue eyes flashed challengingly, making something in the swordsman's chest clench. 

“You are far too kind to be cursed as a monster, cook.”

“So are you !” The blonde pleaded, his hand moving to grip at Zoro's arm desperately. “I am not some sort of saint, and you are not a demon. Now stop this nonsense and attempt to talk to someone , so that you can see I am right!” 

With that, the prince turned and marched off in a huff, throwing back his cup and grabbing yet more wine. Zoro groaned, looking pitifully into his ale. 

“You know, it would solve most of your problems if you were to just be honest with him about how you feel.” A voice said, startling him out of his misery. 

He turned, surveying the woman who appeared at his side. 

“What?” He asked, thrown by her sudden arrival. 

“Well you are clearly in love with him,” She said casually. The swordsman nearly dropped his ale, fumbling with it in a moment of shock. “And he obviously cares quite a lot for you. I fail to see why you do not just tell him and be done with it.” 

Zoro gaped at her, narrowing his eyes. There was something both familiar and dangerous about her that he did not like, and he examined her closely. She had a ridiculous amount of gleaming gems on her self, but what caught his attention most was her vividly orange hair. His eyes widened comically as he realized who she was. 

“The witch.” Zoro muttered, earning a glare from the magic user. 

“I have a name, and it is lady Nami. You are not to address me so crudely around the gentry.” She said coldly. 

“Why are you here?” The swordsman asked, still wary of her. He did not trust witches after being cursed and such, and she had not really helped him much the other day. 

“I was invited by the prince. I suppose you don’t remember, having been stone for that part of the conversation. He even offered me a place in his court, which I am still considering.” Nami replied easily, popping a bit of tart in her mouth primly. “Anyways, shouldn’t you be asking him to dance? Wooing him like the chivalrous knight of stories? I can grow flowers in your hair with a spell if you’d like. I’ll even throw in a discount.” 

“Will you be silent!?” Zoro hissed, looking around. The witch looked entirely unconcerned with sharing his secret. 

“What? I think the flowers would suit you. They could make you seem approachable, which you are not really, might I point out.”

“How do you know about my feelings for the prince?” The swordsman demanded in a hushed tone. Thankfully he really was quite unapproachable, and the rest of the party was steering clear. 

“You are not exactly being subtle.” Nami said dryly, taking another tart. She did not eat it though, rather she did something with her hands and the treat disappeared. She winked at Zoro mischievously. 

She had him there. The swordsman was indeed not known for subtly. He liked his honesty, but his ability to be anything but was not always helpful. 

“He has not noticed, has he?” Zoro asked, glancing towards the dance floor where the prince was back to twirling about. 

“No, it appears you are both equally dense.” The witch assured him with a helpless shrug to follow. 

Zoro was stuck watching Sanji dance. It was quite astounding to him how he had never once had even the slightest desire to dance before, but now, thanks to the horrors of emotion, he desired it. Perhaps the prince would tease him for his lack of grace, but that would be part of the fun. 

“Oh dear gods, you are so lovesick it is pitiful. Just ask him to dance already.” Nami said, snapping Zoro out of his staring. He felt a blush explode across his face at having been so obvious, and caught so easily. 

“I do not know how, and I do not want to.” Zoro muttered stubbornly. He was beginning to fear this witch greatly, if nothing else than for her clever observations. 

“Well then you are in luck, because I know how, and I want to.” She said with a smug grin. She snapped her ring laiden fingers, and Zoro felt a tingling sensation across his body. 

He looked down in horror at what had just happened. Somehow, the witch had changed his attire from his usual battle-readiness to a clean black outfit that was both much too ornate and much too tight for his liking. There was even fine green stitching at his collar and cuffs, that he suspected were supposed to match his hair. He was tempted to rip the shirt off immediately, crowded ballroom be damned. 

“That is just an illusion spell, so do not look so offended. Your dirty clothes are still on you, but I will not have my dance partner looking like he just escaped the wilds.” She looped an arm around his, leading him towards the dance floor. 

Too stunned to protest, Zoro let himself be dragged along. He supposed at least he did not look as ridiculous as he had in that strange hat, but he still felt silly. Before they reached the marble floors where the nobility was spinning each other around, the witch paused. 

“By the way, why are you awake? I do not want to get stabbed this evening, as I am fond of this dress.” 

The swordsman, finally able to unstick his tongue to answer, realized he did not know anymore than she did. It seemed the whole evening had just been various types of confusion, and he could do nothing about it. 

“I haven’t the slightest idea.” He said, and wasn’t that the greater truth of it all. 

-o-

Sanji watched Usopp and the lady Kaya giggle like children at something only they knew about. The two had been attached all evening with eyes for no other, and it put the prince in a strangely bitter mood. 

Even as he danced formally with the beautiful women of the kingdom, he could not help but watch the love birds out of the corner of his eye. They were so terribly smitten with each other it was nearly obscene, and Sanji wondered if either of them would notice if the place caught fire around them. He guessed not honestly. 

Swallowing a sigh of longing, the prince tried to return his attention to the dance. It was hypocritical of him to tell the mosshead to go find himself love and then not pursue it himself. He knew that if he really did want to marry one of the ladies here, or hell, one of the gentlemen, Zeff would not deny him. It drove the prince up the wall though, that the king was willing to sacrifice an opportunity for the kingdom just so his son could be with someone of his own choosing. How would he ever pay the old man back for all the years of safety and comfort if he could not do this one thing of offering himself to be wed off? And he did not have infinite time either. One day Zeff would deny the wrong person, and an army really would destroy Baratie. That, or everyone would turn away from the kingdom, and then Sanji wouldn’t have any future prospects. 

“My dear prince, what troubles you?” Lady Vivi said softly, bring the prince out of his head. 

“Nothing could possibly trouble me, so long as you are in my company.” Sanji replied quickly. 

Vivi was clearly not convinced. They had met enough times that the prince knew she could see through him, but she gracefully did not press him. Instead, she tilted her head a little to the side, nodding at something in the direction. 

“If you are worried about your knight, you should be assured by that.” She said, smiling towards something Sanji had not noticed. 

The prince turned his head as they danced, catching the familiar glint of red hair. He was surprised that lady Nami had agreed to come, but thrilled that she had. She was a beautiful, quick woman, and if she joined their court it would be cause for celebration. She was dancing with a broad shouldered man who Sanji did not recognize, until he noticed the color of the cropped hair. He nearly tripped over his own feet. 

“Is that sir mosshead?” Sanji exclaimed, making Vivi laugh. She began to lead them in the dance, the prince now far too distracted for the position. 

“Quite the sight he makes in that attire. I imagine anyone who was not already looking now is.” She whispered, smiling as she watched her blonde dance partner stare across the floor at the other man. 

Quite a sight indeed. Zoro, being perfectly nice-looking in his usual clothes, had been in dire need of both a tailor and a bath. Somehow he now needed neither, and he looked almost like a different person. The usual dirt and possible blood that stubbornly clung to his skin was now gone, and the crisp lines of his tunic and trousers revealed his defined muscles. His arms seemed ready to burst from the fabric, but not in a way that was bad at all. Even his hair seemed neater, it's usual tousled appearance now tamed. There was finally opportunity to observe the sharpness of his eyes and smoothness of his skin. It would never again be denied that the swordsman was handsome. 

“Why, prince Sanji, are you blushing ?” Vivi teased, causing the prince to snap his head back towards her. 

“I can assure you I am not .” He denied vehemently, the truth a cruel heat on his cheeks regardless. Vivi simply laughed gently. 

“Why not ask for his hand in the next dance?” She suggested, spinning gracefully in time with the music. Sanji stepped along with her, concentrating on his footwork for a moment. 

“I mustn’t distract him. Zoro is looking for a lover, not a friend.” He pointed out. He dipped the gentlewoman, hoping to distract her from the conversation. 

“Who is to say that one cannot be both?” Vivi murmured, causing the prince to nearly trip yet again. 

“Lady Vivi, I-,” He began, nearly jumping out of his skin when a large, warm hand came to rest on his shoulder for a brief moment. 

Both he and Vivi turned to find the knight before them, looking uncomfortable. He glanced hesitantly between the two, before taking a breath and bowing deeply. 

“May I have this next dance?” The swordsman asked, his voice a soft rumble as he rose back up, offering his hand. 

Stunned, Sanji turned back to his own partner. She blinked at him, looking delighted, and he realized Zoro must have been asking her to dance. 

“Oh, of course! I suppose lady Nami might accept my own invitation now that she is partnerless. Do not step on the lady Vivi’s toes, sir moss.” He turned quickly to go, but a tug on his sleeve made him turn back. Vivi was looking at him rather pityingly. 

“My prince, he obviously meant to dance with you, not me.” She said, an amused little smile gracing her lips. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I will go provide company for lady Nami.” 

She left the two frozen men, giving the blonde one last encouraging smile. Her skirts billowed out behind her, and Sanji followed the swish of fabric with his eyes until the only place to look was the floor. Swallowing, he lifted his head to meet Zoro’s gaze. 

The green-haired man rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, looking away for a moment. When his eyes returned to meet the prince’s, there was a gentle look in them that disarmed Sanji greatly. Slowly, he held out his large, calloused hand between them, offering it to the prince. 

“How on earth did you bathe and find formal wear so quickly?” The blonde asked, trying to sound calm as he gently placed his own hand atop Zoro’s. 

“It is only a spell the witch cast.” The swordsman explained, taking a step closer. Sanji swallowed at their sudden proximity, far too aware that the knight was a little taller than him. 

“You ought to call her Nami, and I hope the spell actually did clean you and it is not just a trick.” He said, feeling himself relax just a bit at the ease of their conversation. It was a challenge not to tense up all over again when Zoro’s other hand moved gently to his lower back. 

“Ah, well…” The swordsman shrugged, looking sheepish for a moment. Sanji narrowed his eyes. 

“Do not tell me you are still filthy after all.” He said, grimacing. Cautiously, he let his own free hand rest on the mosshead’s shoulder. 

“It is only a bit of dirt, it will not hurt you, cook.” Zoro said, grinning cheekily. 

The music struck up a new melody, the dance beginning anew. They both stepped in time with the music, maneuvering around the other circling dancers. 

“Why do you call me that?” Sanji asked, stepping back for a spin. The hand on his back was gone for a moment, then slid into place where it seemed content to belong. “I am not really a cook. I am a prince.”

Zoro seemed to consider Sanji for a moment, and the prince held his breath. They gently moved in a large circle with the other dancers, neither man paying much attention to their footwork. 

“You are happiest when you are cooking.” Zoro murmured, quiet in the small space between their bodies. “You are my prince any other time, but when you are cooking, it is- different.” 

The prince could not find his voice, or his breath. Dazed, he let the swordsman move them in the dance. Swallowing hard, Sanji tried to retain his composure. 

“That still does not explain why you address me so.” He whispered. Up close, he was able to hear the sound the knight’s earrings made when they swayed together. 

“Then I suppose…it is because I enjoy our time together in the kitchens. I am your knight, and I serve you and no other, but you are always at the call of the people. ” They stepped, turning a little into the dance, Zoro’s hand warm and steady on his back. “But when you cook for me, it is just for me. It makes me happy, and so I call you cook.” 

Sanji breathed jaggedly, unable to look away from the knight's gaze. It felt like flames were licking at the inside of his chest as well as his face. He could do nothing more than cling to the knight as they moved, helpless as the intimacy of such a statement nearly knocked him off his feet. 

How did someone respond to such a thing? And how had he not noticed that all the times he had observed the swordsman, the swordsman had been observing him? Somehow, Zoro had come to know him so well, and Sanji hadn’t even been aware of it. 

“Zoro-,” 

“NOBODY MOVE!” Someone yelled, breaking the careful spell between the two men. They both turned, gasps of the other guests echoing all around them. 

It appeared the bandits had finally made their move, revealing themselves now that they had observed who to target. At least 7 of them, all brandishing knives that had previously been hidden. One of them was pointing his weapon at none other than Nami. 

“Lady Nami!” Sanji cried, letting go of his knight to aid the witch. 

“I said do not move!!” Yelled the man with his knife to her throat, freezing the prince in his tracks. 

Cursing, Sanji stayed where he was, trying to think of what to do. The bandit held out a hand to Nami, grinning smugly. 

“Now, hand over those jewels, my lady .” 

Interestingly, Nami did not look frightened. She did not even look all that bothered or surprised. 

“Hm, I do not think I will.” She said casually, her own smile clearly confusing the bandit as well as her words. 

“You would rather die?” He asked, pressing the knife more threateningly to her throat. 

Nami gave a slow, cat-like blink at the man, and then, very calmly, snapped her fingers. A long, blue staff appeared in her hands, and in one clean movement, the bandit was on his back. 

In the next instant, Zoro was upon the other men. Snapping himself out of his shock, Sanji lept at the closest one. Without even drawing his sword, the knight took down one, then two, then three of the bandits. Nami swung her staff swiftly, getting another in the back of the head. Sanji finished sending one man flying, and then turned to the last. 

This was perfect, the prince thought. As long as no one took down the last man, Zoro could remain free for a while longer. All they had to do was-

“I surrender!” The man cried, dropping his knife, and then lowering himself to his knees. “I did not want to rob anyone, I swear it!” 

Sanji’s heart sank. He turned to Zoro, his face already taking the expression of resignation. But there was still time! The swordsman could- well Sanji didn’t know what, but there had to be something ! Rushing over to the other man, the prince grabbed his arm, not knowing what on earth he could even do to help. 

“Zoro,” Sanji tried, mind forming a blank as he searched to find the right words. “I…” 

But what could he say? He had failed the man, taking up all his precious time for himself. Zoro was supposed to be finding love, not dedicating himself to his prince, but somehow Sanji had only encouraged him. 

“It’s alright, cook.” Zoro said softly, and the blonde shook himself back to the man before him. The man who was already partially gray and cold. 

“No, wait ,” Sanji pleaded, knowing it was useless. His hand still gripped the knight's arm, and he could feel the exact moment the flesh became stone. 

“Save me a dance for next time, my prince.” And then he was not really there anymore, and the prince was only holding onto the image of a man smiling sadly. 

The room was quiet around them. Only the hushed whispers of the confused guests, and the click of Nami’s heels as she approached Sanji. She delicately placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“There is still time.” She said gently, to which the prince could only nod. When he removed his hand from where it had been on the knight, the crease of fabric remained, as if to taunt him. 

A door opened to the side of them, and Usopp and Kaya entered, laughing. The two were unaware of the atmosphere as they walked towards Sanji, both of them pausing as they finally noticed the stone man. 

“We were only in the gardens for a moment, what happened?” Usopp asked, rushing to the prince's side. Sanji could only shake his head. 

“I got in the way.” He whispered. Looking back at Zoro’s unmoving face, Sanji took in the firm line of his brow, set in determination. As if to tell the prince to stop his mopping already. Sanji closed his eyes. 

“Next time, I will not.”

Chapter Text

Zoro yawned mightily, blinking away the usual fog. He could begin to feel the toll the curse was taking on his body, unwilling to let him properly sleep and eat. When he was able to get a decent look around, he found himself back in the court hearing room. Nami was standing patiently beside him, and she did not look like she had good news. 

“You are not going to like what I have to say.” The witch said slowly.

The swordsman was unsurprised. He had pushed too far with the prince, he was sure of it, and now he was to be sent away. Or he was to be kept, at least until his fate was sealed in stone forever. 

“Best tell me anyways, seeing as I probably do not have much time.” Zoro grunted, stretching his stiff neck. He coughed, something like dust in his throat. 

Nami grimaced, glancing down at the floor. The knight followed her gaze, freezing at the slash of red staining the polished wood. 

“The prince has been injured.” The witch said, and Zoro felt his heart seize. 

“Why was I not awake?” The swordsman whispered, frozen to the spot. He could not tear his gaze from the blood. 

“There is a delay to your returning now. The attack was only minutes ago, really, and you could not have stopped it.” 

Zoro closed his eyes, covering them with his hand. 

“Will you take me to him?” He asked, his voice just barely shaking. 

Nami nodded, gesturing for Zoro to follow. She quietly explained that Sanji was ok, the town's doctor was skilled and quick. The assassin was still not caught, hence why the swordsman was even still awake. 

They climbed a long flight of stairs the knight had never gone up before, down a short hallway where Usopp and an older man stood pacing before a door. When the older man saw the swordsman, he rushed at him. 

“You!” He roared, forcing Zoro to take a startled step back. “It is your only task to protect my son, and you fail me!” 

It took the swordsman a moment to realize that this was the first time he was meeting the king, and it could not be under worse circumstances. 

“If you cannot keep him safe, then what good are you?” The king continued to yell, jabbing Zoro in the chest. His words cut deep, and Zoro found himself unable to answer. 

“Your majesty, please .” Usopp asked, his eyes red and damp. “The archer shot Sanji through the window, Zoro could not have stopped it.” He tried placing a hand on the enraged king, but the old man brushed him off brusquely. 

“Then place him in front of the window, and let the archer strike stone next time!” The king yelled, pushing past Usopp and storming down the hall, past the witch. He kicked over a table, the legs breaking on impact, and then was gone. Nami stayed where she was, pressing her back to the wall as she winced at the sound of a slamming door. 

“He did not mean it,” Usopp promised, grabbing Zoro’s sleeve. “He only-

“He is right.” Zoro interrupted, clenching his fists at his side. “Protection was the only thing I had left to offer. If I cannot do that one thing, I am more a statue than a knight.” 

Usopp opened his mouth to argue again, but the door behind him opened, and the anxious man rushed at a tired looking physician. 

“Law! How is he? Did you use my serums? And the ointment?”

The physician looked at Usopp with a face that said he most certainly did not use either. He settled a fluffy hat onto his head and pushed the herbalist out of his personal space. 

“The prince is resting. The wound was deep but small, and has been tended to properly, without an ointment of toad secretion. He will heal in time just fine.” Law said. He glanced at Zoro. “I take it you are the knight?” 

The swordsman nodded. He took a step forward, but the thin doctor held up a hand. 

“He has asked to see you, but he is tired and in pain, and you are filthy. God knows what disease you carry on your clothing, so do not linger.” Law ordered, brushing past the knight with his final word. The long nosed man was hot on his heels. 

“Law, I can prove the toads are a medicinal miracle! Just allow me to show you my research-,” 

Zoro did not listen to the rest of Usopp’s pleas for the doctor. He hesitantly opened the door the physician had come out of, and then softly shut it behind him. 

It smelled of strong mixtures that made the swordsman wrinkle his nose, and the candles had burned low and left to dim. It was a quiet, warm space that was more books than furniture, and a mismatched collection of oceanic maps took up nearly all the wall. Zoro had known Sanji liked the sea from the way he spoke of it, but he had not known it was a true admiration. 

“Is that sir moss?” Came the soft voice of the prince, and the shuffling of blankets. 

Zoro quickly turned and faced the other man, catching the sheen of gold as his hair caught the candlelight. Sanji had pushed himself up, his thin arms looking weak and unsteady, and the swordsman rushed to his side to help him. 

“You should be resting.” Zoro grumbled, gently placing a hand on the prince's shoulder, and yanking it away when he heard a soft hiss of pain. 

“There is time for resting later. I had to make sure you were ok.” Sanji said, nearly panting at the simple act of sitting upright. His gauze covered torso heaved. 

“You were shot by an arrow, and you ask if I am ok?” Zoro asked. 

The blonde looked at him, his pale face gone ashen from blood loss. Even his brilliant blue eyes seemed dimmer. 

“When you did not wake, I was afraid you never would again.” Sanji said quietly. 

Zoro closed his eyes. What kind of a man bled on the floor and feared for another’s life rather than his own? Perhaps it would have been better if the prince had been a selfish bastard, and not this terribly lovable man. But Zoro could not regret his placement for affections, not when Sanji was so worth their weight and then some. 

“I am sorry.” He said vehemently, inclining his head to his chest. 

Cool fingertips grazed the knight's chin, and he looked up. 

“What did I say about bowing?” The prince said gently, a half-hearted smile on his lips. 

Zoro felt something stick to the inside his throat, making it hard to breath and impossible to speak. It was a telling thing- that just the hint of his prince’s fingers on the underside of his jaw could command him. Only the spring before he had scoffed at the many knights who swore themselves so passionately to one lord, so dedicated it was a near religious thing. Now he felt only a step away from prayer himself, ready to be baptized by the way love held him captive. How had such a thing happened? 

“We must arrange a new plan for you. Something quick and more intimate- like a proper courting event.” Sanji said suddenly, pulling his hand away. He winced slightly  at the movement. 

“What?” Zoro asked, confused. He pulled back a small amount, unaware that he had leaned towards the prince subconsciously. 

“To break the curse, mosshead. Now think- was there anyone at the ball that caught your eye? Or anyone at all that you wish me to summon?” Sanji pressed, his voice growing weaker with his obvious fatigue and pain. 

Frustrated, the swordsman turned away. He thought he had made his interests plenty clear at the ball, and though it was his every right to turn Zoro down, hearing the prince push for the knight to take on a different lover stung. Whether Sanji even knew it or not, he was proving his own disinterest. 

“Enough of this. I will not fall in love just because you place me in a room with a pretty face.” He said, moving to stand. The prince needed to sleep, and there was an assassin still loose. 

“Then help me arrange something!” Sanji said agitatedly, grabbing at Zoro’s wrist with his too-cold hand. “You cannot simply give up, I refuse to let you.” 

“I am not giving up, but I will not let you plan a lunch date for me in an event where your life is in danger.” The knight responded firmly. He gently placed his own hand over the prince’s, uncurling the fingers attached to his wrist and lowering them safely to the bed quilt. 

“I am not so fragile that I need your protection, Zoro!” Sanji shouted, tossing the blanket aside and throwing his legs over the side of the bed. He stood on slightly shaky legs, his face pinched in a stubborn frown. “I have said it before and I will repeat myself now; I never needed a knight. I am able to hold my own, and, yes, sometimes cowards get the best of me,” He gestured to his tender shoulder, the white bandage glaring in the dark. “But I am a capable man and I will not be treated as if I were weak.”

“I know you are not weak.” Zoro said, ready to catch the prince if need be. “But just because you are strong does not mean I want you to be hurt.”

Sanji’s face softened at the knights words, but then hardened in resolve. 

“And just because you want to protect me does not mean I want you to be turned to stone as the result.” He murmured in reply. 

Sanji lowered himself back to the bed, staring at his knees. His paleness was a frightening thing in the low light of the candles- far too close to a man at death's door for Zoro's liking. The knight was tempted to push the blonde back to the pillows, forcing him to sleep if need be. 

“I wish you would think of yourself more.” The prince whispered, his soft yellow hair falling over his eyes. 

Zoro frowned, feeling the familiar burn of anger in his gut. It was a welcome change from guilt and longing. 

“That is hypocritical of you to say, cook.” 

Sanji’s blue eyes flashed to meet his, burning above the dark purple of his fatigue. 

“ I am not the one dying ! Why are you being so fucking stubborn about that!? Why won’t you just try to meet someone-

“I am not going to fall in love!” Zoro yelled, interrupting the prince. “And no one is going to magically fall in love with me! I am not a warm and soft man, Sanji, I am hardened with harder edges. I am good at cutting down enemies and bad at being polite, and I have no qualms with this, but it does not encourage affection.” 

Both men glared at each other. Sanji’s hands fisted in the blankets, knuckles white. 

“So you would rather be a man of stone than love someone.” The prince hissed. His chest heaved in anger and pain, sweat beaded on his brow. 

It was not lost on Zoro how ironic it was of the prince to be the one saying that. He realized the depth of his commitment in loving his prince would lead him to death in a way, but it was too late to care. There was no denying he had fallen completely, and there was no way to climb back anymore. Sanji did not have feelings for him, and Zoro would not tell the man and guilt him into a desperate kind of attempt at any. The prince was too kind, and the knight would rather die than take advantage of such kindness. 

“You need to rest, my prince.” Zoro said, watching the heartbreaking way Sanji's expression changed from angry to desperate. “The doctor requested I did not linger, so I take my leave.”

“No,” the prince called, once again reaching for the swordsman's sleeve, now too far away. “No, do not just- accept this!” 

It was cruel, but Zoro walked to the door, knowing Sanji was too weak to follow. 

“Zoro, your heart is not made of stone! Do not act like it is!” The prince cried after him. 

The door shut behind the swordsman, and he leaned heavily on it, closing his eyes. His fingertips tapped against the wood, already hard and gray. 

-o-

When Zoro next opened his eyes, he expected to either be reprimanded with a cold shoulder or wracked with guilt once again. Sanji’s mood he could take, but actual harm to the prince due to his own negligence? 

He was surprised to see he was still in the hallway by the prince's door. Someone, possibly poor Usopp, had often been tasked in dragging him back to the court. Either the prince had specifically asked for him to remain, or the stairs were too daunting a task to manage with a stone man. 

It was also very dark. A few stray torches had been lit, but many had gone out, and Zoro could guess the hour was nearing the new day. Hesitating for only a moment, the swordsman turned and opened the door to Sanji's bedroom. 

The many books were still strewn about the place, maps and ornaments decorating the place. There were shelves of seashells and a few ornate knives, most likely gifts. A few small wood carvings that had Usopp’s signature on them as well. But noticeably, there was no one in the room. Only an untucked bed. 

Frowning, Zoro left the room and closed the door behind him. There was a prickling sensation at the back of his neck that he did not like, and he looked around guardedly. A decent amount of doors, but none he knew or could even guess at. His best bet, he decided, was to return to the stairs and go back down. 

It took an unusual amount of time to locate the stairs, but eventually Zoro found them and descended. It was eerily silent in the night, no servants rushing about or the cook yelling about soups or Usopp tinkering with strange things. Even the pictures on the walls seemed to slumber in the dark, and the swordsman couldn’t shake the feeling of wrongness. Despite how peaceful it all should have been, he knew he would not have returned for no reason. His hand brushed the hilt of wado, seeking comfort. 

Then, almost too quiet to catch, Zoro heard a hushed voice. He stilled himself, keeping close to the wall, straining his ears to hear more. More than one voice, speaking in a hushed but frantic tone. 

“-left before dawn, why did it take so long?” One voice asked angrily. 

Creeping along the hallway, the knight brought himself closer. He did not know where he was in the castle, only that it was not near the kitchens and there were no torches to even hint at the layout. 

“No one told us he was able to fight! Four of the men are injured, and had we not drugged him we would be dead!” A different voice hissed back, and Zoro stilled. 

It wasn’t hard to put the pieces together. Sanji was the only man worth abducting in the castle, and one of the few who could fight. If he was drugged though, strength didn’t matter. Anger rolled off the swordsman at the cowardly attack. 

“He is a prince, not some warrior! Is he at least in the carriage?” The first voice asked. 

“Yes, but once we open the gate all hell will break loose. There will be no way to do it quietly, and the bodies of the guards will be found soon.”

Zoro grimaced at the words. This was not a small operation at all, if there were enough people to dispose of the gate guards and take the prince. To do so in the dead of night implied understanding of the castle layout as well as skill. The swordsman was alone, in the dark, and did not specialize in being quiet. The odds were not in his favor. 

“We are running out of time anyways, just get the prince out of here! Burn the walls down if need be.” The first voice commanded, his tone tinged with agitation. 

Carefully, Zoro peered around the corner of the wall, catching the shadows of the two men. One of them, Zoro supposed the subordination, nodded and scurried off, clinging to the darker corners of the room. As he left, the swordsman drew his sword and quietly moved. 

The glint of metal must have caught the man's eye, because he met Zoro's blade with a knife. He struggled under the knight's strength though, and cursed as Zoro was able to push him back. 

“Where is the prince?” The swordsman demanded, easily forcing the man to the wall. 

“I do not know what you mean,” the man wheezed, trying to push back. He kicked at Zoro's legs uselessly as wado worked its way closer to his neck. 

“I am not merciful, nor patient.” Zoro growled. “You either tell me now or you die.”

He emphasized his point by using his full strength to press his sword on the man, the metal brushing his quivering Adam’s apple. 

“Ok, ok! He is in a prisoner's carriage outside! It will soon be beyond the gate though-

Zoro did not need more than that. He shoved his fist in the man's abdomen and he crumpled immediately. Sheathing his sword, the knight sprinted out of the room, trying to keep quiet. 

There were multiple ways out of the castle, as there always were. The problem was that they were through doors, and Zoro did not know which doors. Every room he stumbled into seemed to lead him deeper into the castle rather than away, and it took far too much time to end up in the gardens. He didn’t dare try to find another way outside, and scrambled up the small wall to get to the main courtyard. 

By the light of the moon he could see the slight movement of men everywhere. Cursing silently, Zoro slid along the wall, looking for a carriage. There was only one in view, but it was parked right by the gate itself, and so out in the open that Zoro realized there would be no choice of stealth. The gate, the swordsman realized, was opening. 

With no time to spare, Zoro clenched his jaw and drew his swords. If it came down to it and the men were no stronger than the one he had already taken down, all would be well. Perhaps a few injuries, but he could get to Sanji and raise the alarm. Someone was also bound to see something amiss, hopefully a guard soon to change for a shift. 

Sprinting at full speed, Zoro drew the attention of a few of the kidnappers easily. They shouted at him, pointing what could be assumed bows and arrows, and the swordsman picked up speed. He was halfway to the carriage when he heard the whistle of the first arrow miss his ear by a hair. 

More worrisome than that though, was the fact that Zoro could feel himself slowing. Not from that of fatigue, but from the familiar ache of his bones and skin actually hardening. His fingers clenched stiffly around his swords, and he nearly panicked. Awakening late was one thing, but to be forced into slumber early? The curse was supposed to allow him this small grace, but if he did not even make it to Sanji then what was the point? Or would this be how he died- shot full of arrows because his legs could not move? 

He didn’t allow himself to dwell on it. He pushed his body to move towards the carriage, another arrow catching him just in the edge of his thigh. There was a thunk as more landed behind him, and then two men moved in front of his path. Raising two swords, Zoro was horrified to see one fly from his grip, his fingers no longer able to hold it in his right hand. Teeth bared in frustration, the swordsman knocked his petrified hand into one of the men, using it as a club and effectively sending him sprawling. The other he ran through with wado, his relief that it had not been her to go flying immense. 

An arrow shot past him, embedding itself into the wooden carriage, and he heard a cry of outrage behind him. 

“Idiot! We cannot harm the prince! If he’s injured we will not be paid in full!” 

That was one positive then, Zoro thought. Sanji would be safe for now, his captors more interested in their money than inflicting harm. 

Finally at the carriage, Zoro rammed his body into the door, wincing as he broke through with an ugly jolt to his arm. Most of his right side was cold and grey now, but he was able to roll forward with his weight, tumbling into the even darker space. 

He fell partly into a wall and party onto a bony lump. His head connected painfully with a bar somewhere, but he kneeled quickly, patting around with his left hand for signs of the prince. His fingers brushed something soft, and even in the low light, Zoro could tell it was yellow hair. 

“Cook!” He called, hoping Sanji could wake up and get himself out. 

No such luck. The prince was still and quiet, and Zoro quickly moved his remaining hand to Sanji's face, relief flooding his veins as he felt the exhalation of breath on his skin. 

The weight of the carriage shifted, and someone tried to clamber inside, a blade catching the moonlight. Zoro kicked out, one of his legs already too stiff to move. He felt the slight impact on his boot, the man tumbling back outside with a yell. 

“Wake up!” Zoro tried again, grabbing at the prince's shoulders to shake him. When that didn’t work, he bodily hauled the blonde over his shoulder. 

He paused, looking around wildly for some idea. If he went back outside he would only turn to stone with the prince on his person as arrows flew. But remaining still meant the carriage would still take Sanji away. Another man climbed into the carriage, only to be punched in the nose by the swordsman. 

Both his legs were too stiff to move now. He let out a stream of expletives that would probably impress the prince, before putting the man back down to the carriage floor. Then, he carefully toppled himself over, stone legs and all. He had no options left for getting Sanji back to the castle, but he at least had a way of keeping himself attached to the prince. 

Gingerly, he took Sanji's hand in his, curling his fingers around the slim, pale wrist. He made sure it was not too tight to cause harm, but not too loose to allow their separation. He then drew Sanji's hand and his arm into his chest, securing his position. Guiltily, he hoped the prince would forgive him for borrowing his hand, and prayed no one would be desperate enough to cut off the appendage to separate them. If Zoro woke to find Sanji missing a hand, there would be nothing in the world he could do to compensate. 

His right arms stiffened, and with it his fingers, and then the feeling crawled to his chest. Zoro was able to check one last time that Sanji's wrist was still relaxed and safe in his hold, and then he closed his eyes. He could hear more men clambering to the carriage outside, shouts and sounds all around them. Someone had probably raised the alarm finally, even if it was in all likelihood too late. The carriage made a jolt like it was moving, a horse crying out in distress. 

Zoro wondered who had paid such a steep price for Sanji to be brought before them. The swordsman couldn’t imagine, but he knew at least that they had to be powerful enough to risk a king's wrath as the outcome of this whole thing. The carriage jostled again, and Zoro felt himself slipping under, the darkness a familiar, hateful place of return. Sanji’s limp hand pressed to his stone chest. 

They wanted the prince, then fine. But they were getting a swordsman too.

Chapter Text

“-ro,” A voice reached him from the dark, caressing his skin. It felt like summer and warm waves, flowers only beginning to bloom. 

“Zoro,” It called again, seeped in grief, like a drink brewed in tears. It had the swordsman fighting against his own body, cracking at the stone he was encased in. He sought this voice, this comfort, this warmth. Life itself, he realized, bringing him back to light. 

He opened his eyes slowly, achingly. There was something soft in his hand. 

“Zoro.” Came the relieved, tired voice of the prince, and the swordsman moved his stiff neck. 

Sanji looked haggard in the most unkempt way. His beautiful hair tousled around his face and his sleep clothes heavily wrinkled. His face was pinched in worry, and his free hand was clasped around zoro's wrist. Slowly, the knight was able to open his own hand, releasing the princes. 

“How long-,” Zoro tried to ask, his throat dry. He did not even know what to ask, looking around at the dim cell they were in. 

“I do not know. One moment I was in my bed chambers, the next I awoke to my hand trapped in your grip.” Sanji said, taking his hand away from Zoro to rub at his wrist. 

“I could not let them separate us. I did not know where they were taking you, and the curse took hold of me. Was my hand too tight?” The knight asked guiltily. 

“No, but I did not fancy myself living out the rest of my days with it trapped, seeing as you are so keen to remain a statue.” Sanji grumbled bitterly. 

Ah, so the prince was still angry then. Zoro couldn’t do much about that, so he surveyed their surroundings. Iron bars that did not seem so intimidating, the swordsman still had wado and kitestu, but had been forced to leave yubashiri where he dropped it in the courtyard. He noticed that the prince's ankles were chained together, connected to the wall of the cell. An iron collar also hung loosely at his collar, and Zoro frowned. 

He reached out, hesitating before he touched the man's skin. He waited until the prince gave a small nod, then carefully slipped his fingers under the collar. It was thick and cold, and though the metal groaned it did not break. Cursing, he moved to the ankle cuffs, but Sanji stopped him. 

“I can break the chains myself. I did not do it already for fear of damaging you earlier.” He said, giving the chains a few experimental tugs. Zoro frowned. 

“You would not have damaged me.” The swordsman grumbled, watching as the chains stretched and snapped as the prince kicked his legs apart. The cuffs remained firmly where they were, but at least they no longer tied him to the room. 

“When I first woke up they were beating you with a hammer.” Sanji growled, refusing to look at the knight. “I was sure that you would break apart at my feet, and I would be left with nothing of you but dust.”

Zoro grimaced. He knew that he was not invincible as stone, which was why he always kept his arms at his side. If someone were dedicated enough, they could break off parts of his body, and there was no way of knowing what that would mean for the knight. 

Signing, the green haired man rose to his feet, drawing his blade. He made quick work of the bars, then offered a hand to the prince. The blonde refused him, rising on his own and stepping through the hole in the bars. Zoro rolled his eyes, but did not press the other man. 

“Do you know who sent for you to be taken?” He asked the prince, following behind him down the hall. There were no windows, and the few cells they passed were empty. 

“I do not know. This is hardly a shack in the woods though, so whoever they are will be powerful.” The prince murmured, looking around. 

There was a stairway up ahead, light seeping in from a place above. The two men looked at each, then went ahead and walked forward. It wasn’t like they had many other options. 

Just as the prince took his first step on the stairs, a door at the end of them creaked open. Hurriedly, Sanji pushed Zoro back and the two men moved into the shadows. Footsteps echoed in the quiet room, and eventually a person came into view. He did not notice the prince and his knight, until Sanji gasped. 

“Gin?” The blonde whispered, and the man whirled on them, a dagger clutched in one hand. 

Zoro drew his blade instantly, but Sanji's hand on his shoulder stilled him. 

“Sanji?” The man asked, clearly taken off guard by the presence of the two men. “How did you- why are you out of the cell?”

Sanji stepped forward, eyes narrowing at the man. 

“Why was I in the cell?” He asked icily. 

Zoro watched as the man, Gin, looked down at his feet, properly ashamed. When he put his knife away, the swordsman reluctantly sheathed his sword. 

“It is for ransom. Krieg wanted his due from King Zeff, but was refused. I swear, I did not know they were going to take you though.” Gin implored, his hands open. 

“Zeff does not owe Krieg anything!” Sanji hissed, still cautious to keep his voice low. “My kingdom offered Krieg’s army shelter and supplies, and this is the thanks we receive!? How do you justify this!” 

The prince gestured to his iron collar, seething. Zoro was tempted to release his sword once more, angry on the blonde's behalf. Gin’s hands clenched at his side, and he lowered his head. 

“It was not my idea, Sanji. I promise you, I did not know or want any of this to happen.” He whispered. 

“So you were on your way to release me then?” The prince challenged, taking a step forward. 

“I-,” Gin faltered, still unable to meet Sanji's eye. “You would have been moved to a proper room, kept comfortable-,”

“Am I a pet ?” Sanji seethed, grabbing the front of Gins tunic. Zoro rather enjoyed the fear in the strange man's eyes. “Do you think I will just sit obediently in some chamber while your piece of shit lord threatens my home?” 

The swordsman did not know what the history was between Sanji and Gin, or Krieg and Zeff. What he did know was that at the very least, the prince was not the desired product, and that was something. He has never heard of a lord named Krieg, but desired the man's head on a pike. 

“Krieg will not stop once he wants something! There is nothing I can do!” Gin implored further, reaching for the prince. Sanji yanked himself back out of reach, a look of disgust on his face. 

“You could do what is right .” He said lowly, glaring harshly at Gin. 

“He knows I love you!” The dark haired man blurted, and Zoro felt his eyes bulge. 

Everyone stood in various states of shock for a moment, Sanji looking deeply bewildered at Zoro's side, while the swordsman marveled at the man's forwardness, even if he did not like said man. Gin looked like he had certainly not meant to say such words aloud. 

“Krieg, he knows that- he knows that I care deeply for you, Sanji. He has promised me you will be safe.” Gin whispered. 

The prince opened and closed his mouth a few times, shaking himself. When he looked back at Gin his eyes were more sorrowful than angry. 

“If you cared for me at all you would not hurt my family.” Sanji said softly. 

“No harm will come to Zeff, he only has to pay Krieg!” Gin tried again. 

“Pay for me .” Sanji corrected, his tone growing colder again. “Buy his own son back from someone else, as if I were a cart horse. Or perhaps a whore?” 

“No-!” Gin begged, but Sanji had clearly heard enough. 

Spinning on his heel, he kicked Gin into one of the nearby cells, slamming the door before the man had even returned to his feet. The lock clicked firmly in place, the dark haired man grasping the bars. 

“You do not love me Gin,” Sanji said, stepping away from the cell. “You want me. The same way Krieg wants gold, and dogs want meat.” 

Sanji gestured to Zoro, and the swordsman followed as the prince quickly ran up the stairs, Gins protests dying in the cell. 

Zoro did not know what to say, so he wisely kept his mouth shut. He wondered if Sanji received words like that often- people declaring grand things to him only to hide a carnal desire. It was possible, with how the young man looked and with his charming personality (if he were in the right mood). What a terrible thing though, to be subject to false affections based on looks when Sanji was such a kind-hearted man at his core. 

When they entered what appeared to be the first floor of a large building, perhaps a castle of its own, the two men paused. There was commotion that could be heard from the other rooms, and Zoro with his green hair and swords was an equally obvious outsider as the prince was with his bare feet and cuffs. 

“We must find a way to the stables.” Sanji whispered at Zoro's side, looking around. The swordsman nodded, keeping his eyes on the doors. When he turned to check the other halls, a shadow fell over him.

Sword already in hand, the knight was able to get as far moving his wrist before a thick, ungodly strong hand closed around his throat. An outcry of surprise came from the prince, and Zoro swung upwards, the steel of his blade clanging harshly against answering metal. He grunted, the hand around his neck tightening, and he tried in desperation to work his free hand around the fingers slowly breaking his windpipe. 

“ Zoro !” The sound of Sanji calling out to him had the swordsman cracking open his eyes, not having realized he closed them at all. A hard curse came somewhere beside him, and then he saw the prince kicking at the arm in front of him. 

“Behave yourself, prince. I have no reason to harm you until the king brings me what is due.” Came the voice that followed the arm, cold and cruel. 

The man was enormous, and had the strength to match his physique. His gaudy golden armor was not for show either, seeing as wado could not pierce it. Zoro kicked out, struggling to get a breath. On the verge of blacking out, he realized his right hand had begun to solidify yet again, and he raised the stone fist and brought it down with his full strength. 

There was a sickening crunch as the stone finally found bone beneath the gauntlets, and the man howled in anger and pain, releasing Zoro. He coughed, throat raw and tender, Sanji kneeling beside him and pulling at his arm. Too slow, Zoro saw another enormous hand reaching towards them, this time for the prince. 

“Sa-,” his throat was too raw, unable to warn the other man as he was grabbed and torn away. 

“I knew the moment Gin went to you he would bend.” The man muttered, lifting the prince by the wrist with alarming ease. Sanji kicked out, furious as Zoro managed to rise to his feet. The kicks did nothing to the man, covered in his armor. “He has always been too soft, and it was stupid of him to lust after a prince.” He continued, unconcerned with the attacks thrown at him. 

He tossed Sanji to the side like a doll, the prince connecting harshly with the wall. Enraged, Zoro threw himself at the man with his blade, pushed back by the rebound of his own attack falling uselessly on the man. The knight's right arm hardened up to the elbow, and he felt the beginnings of a terrible panic building inside of him. 

“My king will not give in to your demands, Krieg!” Sanji cried, pushing himself back up. He charged at the large lord, who grabbed him by the neck this time, slamming him to the floor with a horrible noise. 

“You king,” Krieg spat, forcing the prince deeper into the crushed stone of the floor. “Is just as soft as Gin. Useless to things as trivial as love, and weak in the wake of it. And I, ” he emphasized, squeezing the delicate bones of Sanji's neck, causing the prince to writhe. “Do not need you to be in good condition for the trade. You must simply be alive.” 

Zoro thrust his sword into the groves of the armor, desperately searching for a weak point. The steel of the blade met something tough and hard, unable to pierce with such a small opening. 

A bone crunching hit to his chest sent him flying back, his body stopping at the far side of the room as he continued to skid across the floor. He rolled, biting down on the blood on his tongue, trying to catch a breath. His full left arm, up the shoulder, could not move. 

He watched, still struggling to breath, as Krieg picked a limp cook up, throwing him back down to the floor. Blood stained blonde hair red and pink, his soft sleep clothes torn and dirtied. 

“Let him go!” Zoro croaked, using wado to get to his feet. He took a step, stumbling, horrified at a stiff, gray foot. 

“Ah, the man of stone. You will be a decent trophy to keep.” Krieg mocked, looking down at the knight as he lifted the prince easily. “How useless you are, only able to bleat like a goat.” 

A kick to his torso made him turn back to the prince, a bored look in his ugly face. Sanji, bloody and beaten but still alive and spitting, trying to connect his foot to the lord's face. 

Zoro turned to his feet, his useless arm. He closed his eyes, and for the first time in his life he considered prayer. He reached for the place he could not see behind his eyelids, where the stone seemed to naw it's way up his veins, and he asked it to wait. 

Let me save him, he begged silently. Just let me save him, and then you can have me for as long as you want. If ever there was a time for the curse to listen, it had to be then, when the person who held his heart, the person who softened his stone heart, was in danger. What had Usopp said before? About love being the oldest form of magic? Well he had love in spades, and it was high time he used it for something. 

The grip on his feet lessened, and he moved his toes. 

Zoro threw himself at Krieg once more, one hand still too far gone for much use. Carefully though, he aimed his blade into the meat of the lord's foot, the sword getting halfway into the metal plating. He threw his right arm up, the fist clenched in hardened rock, and he brought it down like a hammer on the hilt. 

Krieg roared in agony, releasing the prince as he turned to Zoro. Blood pooled on the floor as the knight tried to wrench the blade free with no success, diving out of the way as Krieg threw a punch at his head. The other arm came down fast though, slamming into the thin leather protection of Zoro’s chest plate and shirt.

Except there was no slam of skin on bone, or metal on leather. There was a hideous, audible crack . Looking down in disbelief, the swordsman watched as a thin, long line reached up and over half his torso, leading from hip to shoulder. He watched in horrified fascination as his own chest froze over in gray, some of him crumbling away as the crack formed in finality. There wasn’t fear within him though, not for himself. Raising his eyes, the knight met the frozen blue gaze of the prince. 

“ ZORO !” Sanji cried, reaching out towards him. On instinct, the swordsman reached out as well, his motion halted as his hand rose, his shoulder no longer willing to move. 

No, not yet. He had to protect his prince, he had to protect the cook . Not until he’s safe, please. But the curse was not revealing any hidden mercy or last kindness. It did not speak to a man like Zoro- it did not listen to his words. 

Laughing darkly, Krieg entered the knight's field of vision. Slowly, methodically, he raised a hand and pressed it to the swordsman’s face. And then he applied pressure. 

“DO NOT TOUCH HIM!” Sanji cried, leaping at the man. It did nothing to affect the strength of Kriegs touch as he pressed his thumb into the space where one of Zoro’s eyes had solidified to stone. 

It was an odd thing, for the knight to feel such an understandably painful and horrendous injury, yet not actually feel it. He could still only just move one foot, a few of his right fingers, and he could see. Whatever else that existed beyond the things those could touch was not a reality he was familiar with anymore. So he could do nothing other than watch as his prince screamed in torment, and another crack sounded in his ear. 

“ NO !” The prince had his own hands around Krieg’s wrist, digging his fingernails into the skin. “Stop it! Stop it and I will do as you say! I will do anything! ” 

Krieg did not answer the prince. Zoro could feel something inside of him dim a little, as if his energy were failing. As if his own body knew that this was all too much, and time was running out. Not with panic, but with calmness, Zoro realized he truly was about to die. One way or another. 

And if he was going to die anyways, why not speak the truth? Why not, on the brink of death, tell the prince where his heart rested at night, warm in the light of the cook's tender smile. 

But he knew why he would not. Because Sanji, tears falling down his dirty cheeks, mouth open wide in pleas and curses, would carry grief over whatever words Zoro said last. There was no possible happy ending where the knight said I love you, because it would always be the words of a dead man. It would always be the what ifs and the too lates . It would be the prince, on his knees, for years and years and years, blaming himself. And the love inside the swordsman, the last thing keeping his breathing, could not allow for that. His love did not ask for pain, it asked for protection. 

“Please, I beg you, I beg you!” Sanji sobbed, still trying to uncurl the fat fingers around Zoro’s face. 

As much as he did not want to enter the afterlife with regrets, the knight did regret this. He would never know a peaceful death if Sanji was left to this threat after the swordsman perished. It was enough of a push to make Zoro retain his consciousness, determined to somehow be sure the prince was ok. 

“LET GO OF ZORO!” Came a voice Zoro recognized, but was confused by. Then, as if in slow motion, Luffy was upon the lord Krieg, and the knight was on his back. 

Hundreds of thoughts and questions flooded Zoro’s mind, but the overwhelming feeling of relief covered all of them. Luffy of all people must have been summoned by Zeff, or perhaps the younger boy was just in the area. Either way, there was guaranteed safety for Sanji now, protected by the strongest knight Zoro knew. 

The floor reverberated with the clashing of Luffy and Krieg, but unable to move, the knight simply lay on his back, fighting to keep his one eye open. Bright yellow hair entered his field of vision, Sanji’s blurred face right above his. 

“Zoro-!” Sanji cried, holding the man’s face desperately. “You must stay awake, you understand? Do not sleep, we do not know what these injuries will do!” 

His fingers fluttered over the large crack in the knight's chest, his hands shaking. His large blue eyes refilled with tears, and he bit his lip hard enough to draw a bead of blood. His hands returned to Zoro’s face, cradling the knight's jaw as fat, angry tears spilled out of his eyes, and Zoro ached with a longing so profound it ripped right through his chest. If only he could lift a hand- if only he could speak . 

“If you stay I will- I will make you anything you wish to eat, alright? And we will figure this curse out, and I will never make you go to another ball, a-and I will-” The prince gasped a breath, pressing his face to Zoro’s shoulder, holding the man uselessly. He shook as he struggled to catch his breath, tears wetting nothing but stone. 

It is alright , Zoro tried to say. He begged his voice to work, his lips to move, he just needed to say this one thing- he just needed Sanji to know it was ok . He did not care about the curse anymore, he did not fear death, he did not care . But dear god, let his prince be happy in his future. Let this beautiful, kind, wonderful man know that Zoro would die for him happily, for a heart that had finally seen softness. I love you , he thought, feeling the words fill him up like a hot meal. I love you, I love you, I love you, Sanji. 

“You don’t get to change someone’s life and then leave.” The prince sobbed quietly. “You called me your cook and you said you were mine- How could you say that and leave me now?”

That’s right, Zoro though, his mind growing muddled by the approaching dark. He had said Sanji was his, if only a little. What a tremendous lie, when a man like the prince lived so thoroughly for the sake of all others. When he lived for the joy of his people, the health of his home, the safety of his family? When he woke by the first blush of sun to cook for the servants, and waited past midnight to feed the mice? 

But he had not lied when he had told Sanji he was the prince’s. His body, his soul, his mind- claimed by a man who could put sunlight to shame. Zoro would be his, even in death, and there could not be any regret in that. 

“Zoro,” the prince whispered brokenly, “Zoro, please .” 

I love you , the knight thought once more. My prince, my cook. Sanji. 

“ Zoro. ” The prince said, just one last time. Like the final word to a lullaby, as the knight fell into the embrace of nothing. 

Chapter Text

Remember , he had been told, once, long ago. To give in increments. 

Smiles can be given freely and abundantly, they said, but he must hide the grace of his inner wrist. The gentle spot below his ribs where he keeps butterflies is not for public consumption. And above all else, when you give away your heart be prepared to lose it forever. Warnings Sanji had heeded from his mother, from stories, from Zeff. 

No one had told him how, precisely, to hide these increments of his self though. Mistakes were his teachers, but not his friends. And youth, hopeful and longing, had said give . Had said to give and give and give. So what if it will hurt to walk the earth without the skin of your heel. So what if the shell around your heart is cracked wide open. 

And remember , the warning voices had once said. Some things do not just grow back. As if he could forget how fragile bones were. As if he had not counted the ones under his paper thin skin. 10 years old with a hip bone so sharp it looked like it would break him open. Why had it taken him so long to realize it was never the superficial wounds to be wary of? Why, at 19, had he only just realized the most crippling monster to ever face would be loss?

It had been 3 weeks. 

3 weeks of no quick insults and nicknames. 3 weeks of no sparring in the garden. 3 weeks of no tender smile the knight thought he was hiding. No brash comment on the stupidity of the gentry, no remark on Usopp’s latest and silly invention, no hidden compliment to Sanji's food. No words, no looks, no movement. Only stone. 

The prince had tried everything. Nami had tried everything too, every spell she was capable of. Usopp and Law had experimented with herbal concoctions, and Sanji had hired every type of mercenary. He had let himself bleed before the swordsman again and again, until Zeff had said enough. The king had gone so far as to ask the knight brothers to stay, if only to make sure his son stopped stepping so fervently in harm's way. But sir Ace and his younger brother were only good at keeping danger outside the doors, and Zoro was still silent and unmoving. 

Sanji sat beside his court throne, as he had taken to doing. Zoro, posed in his damaged state, remained where he had very first appeared. On the floor, the prince was able to somehow feel closer to the man, some part of him hoping to offer comfort by his proximity. If he wanted he could lean on the knight's legs, but he didn’t dare. After what felt like hours of simply staring at the man, at his marked chest, his ruined eye, the prince finally rose, exhausted from nothing. 

He found Lady Nami pouring over her books, a grim look on her lovely face. Beside her, Luffy sat.

Sanji was fond of the younger boy for many reasons. He had saved him firstly, and was obviously close with Zoro and devoted to helping them all in any way he could. Mostly though, he seemed very unperturbed, but he requested enormous amounts of food, and at least that distracted the prince. 

“Sanji!” The boy greeted, rising from his seat. Despite the mood of the room, he was able to smile at the blonde warmly. 

“Luffy.” The prince greeted, equally warm. “Are you hungry?”

Before the knight could confirm the usual answer of yes, Nami slapped his shoulder. 

“How are you always so famished? Aren’t you concerned for your friend?” She chastised him, crossing her arms. 

“Why would I be worried about Zoro?” Luffy said, picking at his nose. 

Nami and Sanji both sighed. Neither of them understood how Luffy was so unconcerned over the other knights' well-being, only that he had been since the start. 

“If we do not find a way to break his curse, he will remain de- sleeping.” Nami pointed out, hastening to change her wording in front of the prince. 

Sanji looked away, biting his lip. Usopp had been very gentle in bringing the subject of Zoro's possible demise up in conversation, but the prince was still not ready. He could not bear the thought that, encased in stone, the knight was beyond help. 

“Sanji just has to wake him up though?” Luffy pointed out, sounding like he thought this was the obvious solution and the other two were being particularly slow. When the prince and the witch simply looked at him flatly, he shrugged, and left. 

The blonde turned back to the redhead, and both of them seemed to deflate in new exhaustion. The witch returned to her book, gesturing for Sanji to step closer. 

The book was an old text that illustrated two people engaged in some sort of battle. One held a staff, the other a sword. The ones with the sword appeared gruesome and distorted, sharp teeth and a wild snarl. 

“I worry it was never about if Zoro could love or not.” Nami began, pointing to a passage of words too faded for the prince to read “I fear it was always meant to be about how Zoro was too much of a monster to be loved at all.” 

Sanji looked back at the drawing, huffing at the stupidity of it. 

“That is,” and Sanji did not want to curse in front of the witch, but he was tempted. “Utterly ridiculous.” He settled on, because it was true. 

“Yes, but is it?” Nami asked, startling Sanji with her piercing eyes. “Think of what you know of the man, his nature, his violence, his will. Not anyone could love such a man.” 

The prince shook his head, adamant. 

“But only on the surface .” He stressed, placing a hand on his own chest. “Once you truly knew him-

“That is my point.” Nami interrupted. “Who but the very few have ever truly known Zoro? Who has looked deep within him and seen the beast, only to accept him regardless? Only to love him regardless?” 

Sanji stopped himself from shaking his head again, feeling his thoughts get more and more distraught. Zoro was not some animal to be feared, he was only a man. And he was a good man, because Sanji knew him. 

Nami’s words clicked into place like a switch. 

“We are the only ones who know him.” Sanji whispered, gaze returning to the page in the book. The solidity of the truth hit the prince like a slap to the face. 

The only people in the entire world who could be of any help to the swordsman were Usopp, Luffy, Nami and Sanji. Perhaps not even the witch, and out of all of them, it was the other knight who had known the swordsman the longest. 

“I will find Luffy!” Sanji said, turning to dash out the door. He did not turn even as Nami tried to call him back, his focus narrowed down to the idea of the dark haired boy helping their cause. 

He tore his way down the halls, looking around until he decided to head towards the kitchen. 9 out of 10 times that was where Luffy was headed anyways. 

Sure enough, the prince spotted the boy trotting with a purpose down the ways to the pantry. 

“Luffy! Luffy, you can help Zoro!” The prince cried, skidding to a halt beside the other man. 

Luffy gazed at him quizzically, head tilted to the side as Sanji panted a bit in exertion. 

“You can- you have known him the longest and,” Sanji fumbled, suddenly unsure. “Well, you can, I mean you must hold a small amount of love for Zoro, so perhaps,” but again, he did not know where to go from there. 

Stuck, he stood there, trying to think what he was even trying to go. Did he really just chase after Luffy in order to beg him to, what? Love Zoro? Was that the best they could do? 

“Sanji.” Luffy said, starting the blonde out of his turmoil. “If you want Zoro to wake up, all you have to do is tell him to wake up.” 

Sanji looked at the boy, unable to form a proper reply. He was frustrated, tired, and scared . He had not slept properly in weeks, he had not managed to make any headway in the curse business, and he could not keep asking Nami to spend all her time on it either. There was a crack in the swordsman for god's sake. 

“ How? ” The prince bit out, one hand moving to tug at his own hair. “If you know how to, then tell me!” 

Luffy remained silent, still watching Sanji with the look of attentive curiosity. It was as if he were waiting for something, and the prince wanted to hurl something at him. 

“Do you want me to go out and find dragon's blood!? Or do I need to kill a griffin!?” The prince continued to yell, feeling everything in him snap out of his control. “Shall I simply save us all time and procure every fabled item in existence? Because if that is what it takes, I will fucking do it!” 

He turned, kicking at the wall with all his strength. The rock broke and crumbled, and Sanji immediately regretted it. The crack along the stone reminded him too much of Zoro's injuries, and all of a sudden he wanted to cry. 

“I do not want him to be gone.” He whispered, staring at the broken off stone. He pictured Zoro's wide grin, his deep laugh, the way he said cook . “I know I did not know him as long as you, but I wanted him in my life.”

He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth in fresh pain at the idea of growing old while Zoro remained a statue . 

“Then you should tell Zoro that.” Luffy said simply, nodding to himself. 

Sanji turned back to the boy, too tired to be angry. 

“And what good would that do? He cannot even hear me.” The prince muttered. Perhaps he could gather some wine and drink himself stupid later, just to ride over the hurt. 

“I don’t know, maybe he can.” Luffy said with a shrug, a grin appearing on his face. “Besides, the curse was about love, right? And you love him plenty!” 

“I-,” Sanji began, ready to tell the boy off again. He paused though, trying to think suddenly of where Luffy was wrong. “I am not,” he would have known he was in love with Zoro, surely he would have. How could he have fallen so unaware? No, he did not- or he could not-

He thought again of the way Zoro’s mouth formed that small, barely there smile when it was just the two of them in the kitchens. As if just by being by the prince’s side, the swordsman had to stifle a grin, eyes already revealing the soften Sanji had come to both expect and want . Had he harbored feelings for the swordsman the whole time? He knew he cared for the knight, and when they had danced together- there had been something . But love? Had he been so foolish to let his heart run so wild? When had that happened? 

Cook , Zoro had called him. And before Sanji had even asked why, he had known on some level that it was because the knight saw something in him that very, very few did. It was how the blonde had known that Zoro knew him, and it was how now, he understood that he knew Zoro the same way. He had just declared he would go to the ends of the earth for the other man, and it had taken an outside voice for him to recognize that it had been love for a long while now. 

Except it was too late. 

“What have I done?” He whispered, lowering his head into his hands. His shoulders trembled as he tried to keep himself steady. “This whole time I could have helped him, but now I have nowhere for this love to go but a statue .”

A touch on his shoulder made him look up. 

“What do you mean? I told you already, you just need to give it to Zoro.”

Could it be that simple? After all that time, after all that waiting and hoping and despairing, this was what it came down to? And it was selfish, but even if it didn't work, maybe Sanji could still leave this love of his with Zoro, where it belonged. Maybe it would rest there, a thing not truly wanted by the swordsman, but accepted at least. Perhaps it could seep into the stone and keep the knight warm. 

Sanji nodded, feeling unsteady in his feet. He looked back behind him, at the halls that led to the room where the swordsman waited. Swallowing, he turned back to Luffy. 

“What if it doesn’t work?” He asked softly.

Luffy smiled widely at him, so bright it nearly cast a shadow. 

“What if it does?”

-o-

He knelt, because it felt appropriate. Zoro had always knelt for him, and now the swordsman needed his help. Still, the prince was unsure of what to say. 

“Zoro,” he began, words sticking in his throat. Swallowing, the prince tried again. “I know that-

He broke off, cursing. Why were these things so hard to say aloud? It was not as if the knight could even hear him. Still, Sanji's heart beat furiously, frightened like an injured bird in his chest. 

“You did not choose to come here.” The prince managed to get out. “You did not choose me .”

He brushed a hand along Zoro's wrist, the cold stone ridged and unforgiving. It was not smooth like marble, the rough texture enough to harm the prince's skin with enough pressure. 

“But I like to think you were happy here, with me. And I know I am not much, frankly I think it is a silly thing that I am even a prince at all. I am loud and rude and many other bad things, but still, I think you did not mind me.”

“And I miss you.” The prince continued, and his throat closed a little over a lump. He swallowed hard, blinking at his stinging eyes. “I miss the way you were kind to me, even when you thought you were not being so. I miss the way you always ate everything on your plate, even without me telling you to do so. I miss how you smile, and how it is crooked, and how your hair is ridiculous, and how your eyes are-

He bit his lip hard, fighting back the waiver of his voice. His hands shook in his lap, and he clenched his eyes closed. 

“I have never met anyone like you before, Zoro. And I do not know what you want most in life, other than the greatness you will surely achieve, but I can give you my love.” A tratorious tear slid down his cheek, and he took a shuddering breath. “I can give you my heart, so it doesn’t matter if yours is stone. You can have mine.”

He opened his eyes, searching for a sign, for anything. 

“So please, come back to me.” The prince whispered. 

He waited. He studied the lines of the man intently, his fingertips, his eyes. He stared at the swordsman's chest, waiting for a movement of breath. Sanji remained on his knee, looking for all the world a follower praying to an idol, and nothing happened. 

The tears slipped down freely, Sanji sliding forward. His forehead brushed the still outstretched hand of the knight, the palm forever turning downwards as he had reached for his prince in the last moments of his freedom. Slowly, reverently, Sanji brought his lips to the stone knuckles. The same way Zoro had done for their introductions. 

He turned quickly, rising to his feet. He could not stand to be so close to someone who could not even hear him, despite what Luffy had said. There was no comfort to this, only further grief and heartache. 

“I am so sorry,” He sobbed, nearly losing his balance as the weight of his loss took hold “if I had just realized what you meant to me sooner, if I had known -,” 

He half crumpled into himself, covering his face as he cried. All their moments alone where Sanji could have realized, should have realized the tenderness he held for his knight. All the opportunities to tell him, to spark a potentially mutual feeling. The future that would always be a what if , where in a fate now dead, Zoro could have loved him too. 

“To think I loved you this much, Zoro!” Sanji whispered desperately, lost to the wave of pain in his chest. 

He did not even realize he was being held until two strong arms were already around him, a warm chest pressed to his back. 

Freezing, the prince immediately tried to turn, wary of someone who had snuck into the room. He had been so distracted he had not been paying attention, but the arms held him in place. Not with a tight hold, but with gentleness. And then a voice whispered in his ear. 

“Cook.” 

Sanji’s knees buckled. He half fell, crying in utter relief as the knight held him close, supporting his weight. He twisted, suddenly panicked, remembering Zoro's wounds. 

There was no blood though. Only a long, clean line across the swordsman's chest, revealed through his torn shirt. Tiny, almost unnoticeable spiderweb cracks etched along the skin underneath his one permanently shut eye, and Sanji reached up without even thinking. He ran his thumb along the large crackled line, following it over the delicate skin of Zoro's lid, up to his brow. He moved his fingertips to the gold earrings, watching in utter joy as they moved easily where they had previously been still. Sanji moved his hand to the green hair, teasing the ends and pulling gently, marveling at the softness. 

And Zoro waited, watching him so softly. Watching him the way a man in love did. 

“Sir Roronoa.” Sanji choked, a watery smile reaching his lips. 

“I thought I was sir moss?” The knight teased softly, inclining his head until their foreheads touched. 

Sanji laughed, wiping at his tear tracked face. A large, calloused hand rose to join his, brushing the wetness away. 

“You can be whatever the fuck you want, so long as it is not stone.” The prince said, trying to pull himself together. He was crying like a child, and Zoro was looking at him far too intently. 

The knight held the prince gently, wiping slowly at the wetness on the prince's eyes. The calluses on the dark skin swept over the fragile skin under the blonde’s eye, and Sanji thought there could never be a touch more tender. He had never been treated as if he were a treasure to be admired. A person to be adored. 

“And what if I want to be the man you love?” The knight asked quietly, his lips only a small distance from his princes. 

Sanji smiled, the sides of his face hurting at how wide it stretched. He could still feel tears pricking the back of his eyes, but he wrapped his arms around Zoro's neck and held him close. 

“Then all you have to do is stay.” the prince whispered in the space between them. And then he leaned in. 

When their lips brushed Sanji could feel it in the tips of his toes. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that this was a returned affection, not with the way Zoro kissed him back so sweetly. Sanji could feel warmth spreading over his skin, curling in his ribs, caressing over his bones. It ghosted under his shirt where Zoro's hands held tightly at his waist, and it whispered in his ears. It said true loves kiss doesn't have shit on this. 

“My prince,” Zoro murmured against his skin, pressing his lips to the corner of Sanji's mouth. To his cheek, his temple, his brow. “My cook .” He lifted one of Sanji's hands, pressing a barely there, long kiss to the knuckles. “I love you too.” 

Sanji pulled him back to his lips with an insistent tug, feeling the way the other man smiled against his skin. There was so much softness to him, so much warmth, how could this man have ever been stone? How could anyone have ever thought such a gentle beast could not possess the most breathtakingly tender heart?

It beat right against the prince's chest, strong and steady. 

“For god's sake,” came Zeff’s voice from the doorway. “I specifically requested a stone knight so this did not happen.” 

Both men pulled apart quickly, but did not separate. Zoro looked properly guilty, but not so guilty that he was willing to remove his hands from the prince's waist. 

“You did not want me to marry royalty anyways.” Sanji grumbled, embarrassed for a multitude of reasons. His father only scowled, turning on his one good heel. 

“I do not give a shit.” The king growled, already halfway out of the room. “Just stop spending my gold on mercenaries.” 

Both men watched him go and then returned to watch each other. Sanji took careful note of the way Zoro’s eyes crinkled with his smile, of the way his thumb brushed over the bones of the prince’s back. Little things that seemed remarkable. 

“Does this mean I have been welcomed into the Baratie’s court, or that I have a target on my back?” The swordsman asked. 

Sanji laughed, pressing his face into the junction of the other man’s neck and shoulder. Zoro kissed the top of his head, hands immediately tightening to accommodate the closeness. 

“You cannot really be in this court without a target on your back.” The prince chuckled, his voice still a little raw from crying so often. He found he did not care. 

“Then I suppose you will be needing the services of a knight for a long while, my prince.” Zoro murmured, and Sanji closed his eyes. 

“I suppose so.”  The blonde said, grinning into the warm skin of Zoro’s neck. 

Chapter Text

There was not supposed to be a grandiose affair for the proper knighting of the swordsman into the court. It was even specifically requested by the man himself that there be no formal affair or attention really. But the man he loved wanted flower arrangements and banners and little delicate things to bake, and so he conceded. Three months of being bathed in attention from the prince, and Zoro thought he would have regained some of the power he had previously lost to his love sickness, but with no luck. He was only a man, and Sanji had a very compelling smile. 

“If you are leaving another mark, I will kill you.” The prince breathed, not sounding as stern as he probably hoped to. 

Zoro smiled into the skin of the prince’s neck, continuing to leave a very prominent and obvious mark. Sanji had not killed him yet despite the many others before, and even if he did grumble later on he never seemed to complain when the act was in occurrence. If anything, the blonde’s hands pressed more firmly on the back of Zoro’s shoulders, as if asking for a continuation. 

“Your collar always hides it.” The swordsman murmured, nipping at the tender, red skin. His hands snaked down to the hem of the fine silk shirt the prince had only just changed into for the ceremony. 

“And yet lady Nami always sees it, and teases me terribly.” The prince muttered back, still doing nothing to stop the other man in his actions. 

Zoro was not very concerned about what the witch or anyone else thought of at the moment. He was perfectly aware that the whole of the castle, and probably the kingdoms beyond had heard of the gossip featuring a young prince and his cursed knight. Not all of the rumors were so salacious, but enough were that Ace made sure to wink obnoxiously whenever Zoro was in his presence. Salaciousness was what was at the forefront of the knights mind at the moment though, and if another maid wanted to eavesdrop outside of the prince’s chambers, Zoro would be generous enough to provide an orchestra of Sanji’s sweet sounds. 

“We haven’t the time for this,” the prince complained, hand gripping the swordsman’s wrist. Zoro stopped where he had begun untucking the other man’s shirt, pouting as a slender hand came up to tug teasingly at his earrings. “Besides, I need to be able to walk straight if I am to stand before a crowd.” Sanji said, grinning cheekily. 

Zoro groaned, reluctantly letting the chuckling prince slip out of his grasp. Sanji fixed his soft hair and tucked his shirt back in, smoothing the fabric down the sharp lines of his chest. He turned to the knight, moving to fix him as well, the other man content to let his lover fuss over his clothes. 

Sanji’s fingers grazed the long line of scar up the swordsman’s exposed chest, the coloration permanently tinted an unnatural gray. He followed the line with his elegant hand, brushing over warm skin until he followed up Zoro’s neck, moving to the matching scar over his eyelid. The prince leaned forward, brushing his lips to the delicate tissue. The knight closed his one good eye, letting himself drift as Sanji ran his fingers through the short, green hair. 

“Who could have ever thought such a tender creature as you had a heart that was hard.” The blonde murmured, pressing another kiss to the top of Zoro’s head, and then a second, and then a third. “I have sliced cheese that is firmer than what is in your chest.” 

Zoro made a noise in response, not feeling the need to point out the truth. Sanji seemed so keen to think that his knight was a secretly soft man, when in reality Zoro was only so soft with very few people. The prince would see the gentle, sweet side of the hardened man because he was the one that brought it forth, and yet seemed unaware of the powers he held in that regard. Zoro could kill 20 men in less than an hour, but by the time he returned to his prince’s side, the beast had been put to rest. In the warm comfort of Sanji’s presence, the demon of the east fell away, and all that was left was a man in love. 

“Come along, sir moss.” Sanji said, bringing his knight back to the present. He tugged on Zoro’s shirt, buttoning the stiff material and smoothing it down. Pressing one last kiss to the swordsman’s brow before leading him out the door, down the hall.

-o-

“Kneel.”

The king uttered the words in a gruff, low voice, and Zoro obeyed. It was still hard to tell if the man approved or disapproved of the knight with his son, but he had made no move to stop their relationship, and for that Zoro was thankful. Any other king would have most likely killed the swordsman, and so when the green-haired man bowed his head and closed his eyes, he did so with genuineness. 

The room was quiet as the guests watched respectfully. Zoro could not quite believe that Nami had managed to put Luffy into a formal outfit and keep him quiet, but she did have magic. Usopp was also rather ingenious at distracting the child-like knight, showing him his many odd inventions and promising him more in the future. Zoro did not think Luffy would be leaving anytime soon, not with the way the prince continuously fed the boy at all hours, and seemed pleased to do so as well. A hulking, guttural snore echoed from the back of the room, and then an audible smack. Zoro fought down a grin at the clear image of Ace falling asleep and being rudely awoken by the witch. 

“Repeat after me.” Zeff continued, unfazed and not even sounding very interested. “By my honor, I swear myself to this kingdom, this court, and it's people.”

“By my honor, I swear myself to this kingdom, this court, and it's people.” Zoro repeated solemnly. 

“Good enough.” The king muttered, not loud enough for anyone else but the knight to hear. He turned, gesturing to his son to step forward. 

Zoro lifted his head to meet the eyes of the prince, watching his every move as he approached. The backlight on his golden hair made him glow softly, and the smile on his face was small and tender. He held wado steadily in his hand, and slowly raised her. 

“Sir Roronoa,” Sanji began, placing the side of the blade on Zoro’s shoulder. “Do you give your blood, your strength, and your will to this court?” 

“I do.” The knight responded, never breaking eye contact. 

Sanji raised the blade, moving it slowly and carefully to the other shoulder, his eyes still on the kneeling man before him. 

“And do you swear to protect, to serve, to honor our people?” The prince asked. 

“I swear.” 

Sanji lifted the blade away, letting it rest at his side in his right hand, as he offered his left for Zoro to take. 

“Then by my power I welcome you to this court. Rise, sir Roronoa.” 

The knight did, but not before taking Sanji’s hand and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the back of his knuckles. There were a few audible gasps from the crowd, but Zoro was only focused on the way the hand in his grasp squeezed slightly, a private answer to his action. 

When he stood, the prince presented wado back to him, her blade balanced on the slim fingers. There was a moment where they were both holding her at the same time, and the heat in Zoro’s chest seemed to reach a fever-hot burn. They could have very well been alone in the great room with the way everyone else seemed to disappear. Sanji’s smile grew from something small to something blinding, and it took every ounce of Zoro’s willpower not to kiss him. 

“My prince.” He said instead, throat dry. He thought he should bow his head in further respect, but he could not break his gaze from Sanji’s rich, blue eyes. 

He hoped the prince could hear the hundreds of other words hidden behind the simple two. The plethora of adoration and love, devotion brimming and flowing from a glass too small. The sheer enormity of all the things he felt for the man he would serve gladly for the rest of his life. 

“My knight.” Sanji responded, softly, for only his ears. And Zoro heard the way the words met his own unspoken ones, the way they twisted in the air between them and settled in his chest. 

He thought once more of the power this man and his love had over him. Of his ability to take a heart that was literal stone, and soften it.