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Despite their concentrated efforts in timing for a spring birth, their son arrived at the very tail end of summer. Just as the island’s temperature dropped and the seasons began changing, fall’s crisp air rolling in its stead.
Mihawk considered it a rather grievous issue. Kuraigana had proven to be particularly resistant to the heat this time around. An unusually cool season; too cool, if anyone asked him. He could feel it in the chill radiating from the stone walls beyond their bedroom, hear it in the clatter of windows and the eerie whoosh of the trees as icy gusts battered their way through their home. The way the humandrills’ activity steadily dropped, retreating to their cozy dens rather than wandering throughout the island as a whole as they tended to do so often.
It was still far too early for their hibernation season but Mihawk digressed. Their behavior was more than indicative of the abnormal weather patterns and he did not like what such a rough climate meant in regards to the coming fall, not to mention the forthcoming winter months. Should things continue as they did now, it could prove to be the coldest season in recent years yet.
Not good. There would be many preparations he’d have to make. But at least he’d made sure that the fire in the bedroom remained alive, keeping the two most important things in his life warm and secure.
The former warlord's eyes refocused at the mealtray he held in hands; plates cleaned and soup bowl empty. Even the teacup was drained and void of the heat brought by the steeped tea leaves, its bare dregs clinging to the porcelain’s bottom.
Pleasure curled in his gut at the sight. He was satisfied to see that Roronoa’s appetite abounded even with the stress of his arduous labor still weighing on him. He would need every bit of nutrition to aid in his healing, after all.
Nutrition . Mihawk’s steps picked up as he made towards the kitchen, boots echoing on stone as he moved down the halls.
In that case he ought to reevaluate his plans for the next planting season. He’d already begun considering increasing his farm’s yield to accommodate three in a year’s time but perhaps he should accelerate those plans or make arrangements to substantiate their current supply. Kuraigana already had hard, infertile ground to start with and tilling so late in the year for new, fertile earth was not optional nor practical. Should the first frost come sooner rather than later and the burgeoning fall crops fail, it may force them to rely more heavily on imported goods to get them through until the next spring.
Well, at least they had enough to comfortably get them through the next several weeks and Mihawk had made sure to time his harvest so that he could be at Roronoa’s side, never out of his line of sight. And he’d made sure that this season’s crops would provide plenty of nutrition for Zoro. He would need it for his recovery, after all.
He filled the kitchen sink and pumped soap into the water just as his eyes drifted towards the tall windows, offering him a perfect view of the tilled area he’d selected for the most recent growing season.
Regardless, Mihawk still chastised himself for his shortsightedness. He’d focused too much of his attention towards ensuring the castle itself was adequately prepared to foster a new little life and now he found that there was still more work to be done. There would be little to no time for rest, it seemed.
Perhaps I should plan for a more varied assortment overall , he thought to himself, rolling his sleeves and sinking his arms into the warm, soapy water. Sweet fruits and colorful harvests. To suit a new and curious, developing palate .
The blurred image of a tiny, toddling figure took root in the back of his mind. A fantasy of windswept curls on a sweet little head, bobbing among rows of vibrant green growth.
Mihawk supposed they were lucky that he would be easy to distinguish among the foliage. That could have potentially not been the case had their son inherited his mother’s spring green locks instead.
Longing struck him like a silent siren, reverberating along the hollow spaces of his bones and blooming like an aching wound in his heart.
A bit of a shame that their baby appeared to take so heavily after him, although perhaps there was still hope he would get to see Roronoa’s wide, mischievous smile and dimpled cheeks in their child. If not that, then maybe hints of his strong spirit and steadfast determination would surface, mimicking his younger parent as the boy grew. Perhaps an appreciation for the craft that brought them together, although he loathed the thought of any child taking a blade in hand out of some sort of necessity—
No, there was still time. A bulk of his features were still newborn soft and indistinguishable, after all. The little thing was hardly a day old, quiet and darling and so very sweet—
His arm slipped and the dishes suddenly clattered dangerously under his hands, sliding from the seamless friction offered by the suds. The noise was sharp and sudden, alarming enough to break him out of his daydreaming.
He was certain that none broke but he still pulled them from the water, meticulously checking the surfaces for cracks and chips. Mihawk clicked his tongue. How thoughtless of him, letting his distraction get the better of him.
But what a marvelous distraction to have . A small smile pasted itself onto his lips as he made quick work of the rest of his partner’s dishes. He drained the sink and wiped down the counters, finishing his chore by draping the dishcloth over the edge of the basin to dry.
No matter. He could ponder on the remaining household matters and arrange for further preparations at a later time. Everything was well enough, for now. Perhaps not to his standards but he had more important and immediate things to tend to at the moment, after all.
How unfortunate then that the castle’s staircases seemed unnecessarily lengthy, the halls of the castle appearing to stretch infinitely when he was so eager to return to Roronoa’s side. The familiar sight of the master bedroom at the end of the long corridor was indeed a blessing. Mihawk turned the doorknob, wincing at the long, answering whine.
Was this yet another item he neglected to add onto his to-do list? So he wasn’t as prepared as he thought. It was both disappointing and humbling.
Still, he would never forgive himself if he interrupted their rest. He leveraged his weight against it so as to avoid waking his beloveds with the creak of the old hinges.
The door swiveled open further and he found his concerns to be unwarranted. A shiver worked its way under Mihawk’s skin. He couldn’t say whether it was due to the change in temperature from the room’s hazy warmth or the silver eye lazily meeting his own, rimmed red and hooded with exhaustion.
“Hey.” Zoro greeted him from where he rested with his head tipped back, propped against a pile of pillows in their bed. “You took a while.”
Mihawk stared unabashedly. The shirt and sweater he’d helped him change into hours earlier laid wide open, sun-kissed skin on full display. “Not too long, I hope. Are you feeling alright?"
His partner gave a weak half-shrug. The motion only served to bring his attention to the precious little bundle snoozing in his arms, held securely against his bare chest for much needed skinship.
“Fine. Well, as much as one can, all things considered.” He paused and his lips pulled into a frown. “Since you won’t let me walk without you around and all.”
This again . He gently closed the door behind him, sealing the room’s warmth with it. He leveled the younger man with a mildly disapproving look.
“We’ve spoken about this.” Mihawk gently reminded him. Indeed, their son has only been in the world for hardly a day and they’ve already found grounds to disagree on.
An unexpected thrill of satisfaction ran down his spine. Was this what the next years of their life together would look like? Fussing at one another while their baby slept under their watch and protection?
He certainly had no protests.
“It’s not that far,” Zoro started again, as if that did anything to dispel his frankly valid concerns. “It’s just to his crib and back.”
Said crib was set at the foot of their bed. A beautifully carved creation of blackwood that laid within easy reach for fetching their little one at all hours of the night. A half-dozen easy steps away for any able bodied parent but undoubtedly a far more daunting task for his little partner at the moment.
“Small as it may seem, it is quite a distance for someone in your current condition, mind you. You’ve only just experienced childbirth, Roronoa. Unmedicated, might I add.”
“It’s not the worst I’ve gone through,” the younger man uttered unrepentantly, as if he wasn’t still sitting on layers of padding to catch the rest of his bleeding. “I feel fine now anyway.”
Mihawk begged to differ. Roronoa still looked a little too pallid for his liking, his head was lolling back and dried sweat tacked his short hair to his scalp.
Perhaps it is time for a change of bedding and dress , the thought sprouted abruptly in the back of his mind. He quietly nodded to himself and made his way over to the bureau for a fresh set. “You have always had a particularly robust constitution but you are most certainly not fine. Regardless of your protests, I think it’s the most prudent decision.”
Roronoa’s retort was immediate. “What do you know about that? Not like it was you pushing his fat little head out.”
“Indeed, but was it not I who assisted you throughout it all?“
As he spoke Mihawk suddenly remembered the sheets and their dirtied clothes he’d discarded and left soaking in their bathroom. Undoubtedly the water ought to be tinted a bright pink by now.
He would need to scrub them out now, lest they stain permanently. Or at least change the water before he added a new load. Yet another chore on his endless list.
Exhaustion pressed on his mind, the weighty pressure building steadily behind his eyes. He sighed and marched on, “I have hardly ever asked you to remain bed bound in all the years we’ve spent together.”
“So? You want a gold star for that? Besides, that’s not true. Remember when you wouldn’t train me until I healed that first time I came here?”
He did. Back when his partner was much greener behind the ears and they both thought their shared path would end with one last battle. “Those are completely different circumstances. Will you really not prioritize yourself and your recovery for the sake of our son?”
Mention of their child gave Zoro pause. The flash of hesitation bolting across his partner’s face and his quick peek down at their sleeping newborn’s face was a point in his favor he was all too eager to claim.
Mihawk seized it. He was quick to scoop him and their little one in arms, gently depositing Roronoa onto a nearby armchair with the utmost care before he turned his attention to their bed.
He wasn’t all too happy to see the streaks of dried rusty red on the linens or to feel the damp heat radiating from them. He remembered the glassiness in Roronoa’s stormy eye, blinking slowly as they spoke as if his attention was being torn between alertness and the remaining waves of discomfort pulsing through his nerves. Perhaps a remedy for the pain would do him well.
First things first . The scent of copper was sharp and unpleasant in his nose. If he could smell it there was no doubt Roronoa could and it would do absolutely nothing for his partner’s health to have him resting in soiled sheets.
“You’re playing dirty, old man.” When the younger man finally spoke behind him, his voice lacked any true blade’s edge to indicate anger, only annoyance. Mihawk was unaffected and began the task of systematically stripping their bed, dropping each linen into a pile. “Using our baby to make me bend.”
“He needs you.”
“You think I don’t know that? What do you think I’m trying to do? And you even carried me back to bed the one time I tried to get him myself —“
“I mean, he needs you hale and whole,” he interrupted. “How will you care for him if you won’t care for yourself?”
Another hesitant pause met his ears. The fire snapped through the last of the kindling in the absence of both their voices.
I ought to feed it again , he thought. The pressure mounting in the back of his skull grew heavier and extended to his limbs.
“That’s not the same thing.” Zoro hastily muttered, avoiding making eye contact by fussing over their little one. “It’s not like I’m gonna be doing backflips. And you know I don’t like sitting still for so long. Feeling useless..”
That much was true. He’s never known his partner for being inactive, eager to go out and spar even now that they’ve both seen through their own goals and interests.
“You aren’t immobile for no reason at all,” he approached to kneel at his side with a gentle tone. His throat tightened at the way Zoro ran a finger along the curve of a little cheek. “Your body demands it and what will happen if you keep denying yourself the rest you need?”
A multitude of scenarios filled his aching head, none of which he wished to examine too closely. Unfortunately it seemed like his sentiment was not shared. A bloodshot eye turned onto him, anger boiling underneath his gaze.
“What are you saying?” His partner scowled. “You think I can’t handle it? That I’d hurt him?”
“No, of course not,” he quickly reassured. He knew Roronoa would never willfully do anything to risk their son’s health or safety and was quick to clarify it, “You’ve done the hardest part already. I only wanted to give you a chance for proper rest so that you could truly enjoy spending time with him in your waking hours.”
The younger man only rolled his eye, the trio of earrings hanging from his ear chiming softly with his movement.
“You’re exaggerating.” A disbelieving, little wrinkle formed between Zoro’s brows. “How much trouble can it be? He’s ours, anyway.”
Ours .
“He is,” Mihawk paused, swallowing the emotion clogging his throat yet again. How many times did that make it? Was he ever going to wrap his head around the fact he now had a little family to care for? “He is ours. I suppose I just– also didn’t want for you to push yourself too much, to conflate any pain with our child’s earliest days. I only wanted you to enjoy this time with him and be able to look back on it fondly. That was all.”
Flickers of the last 48 hours flashed behind his eyes like firelight, filled with blood and pained groans. The panic and tension in the air had been unbearably thick, cloying in the back of the throat. Mihawk was certain that the bruising on his shoulders and forearms remained bright pink under his clothing, yet to bloom violet from how hard Roronoa held onto him as he strained and pushed for hours.
“Of course I wouldn’t blame him for all that,” Zoro squinted at him. “If anything, I would be blaming you for putting him in me in the first place. Isn’t that right, kid?”
As if on queue, their little one made a soft, sweet noise from the cradle of his mother’s arms. Vindicated, Roronoa turned back to him with a smug look. “See?”
“..I am being earnest,” Mihawk frowned, feeling chafed by his deflection and use of their newborn against him. The younger man’s shoulders only shifted in a shrug. “A modicum of sincerity would be appreciated.”
“I just don’t think it’s as serious as you think. I’ll manage fine.”
“And I don’t doubt it,” he agreed. “I’m positive you’ll make a quick recovery but it’s only been a day, Roronoa. And after watching you in pain for so many hours, it’s.. not a situation I find myself keen on repeating if it’s within my power to prevent it.”
Difficult as the ordeal had been — on him, on his partner, most importantly — he would never forget the moment when the tiny, precious weight landed in his hands nor the terrifying beat of silence before the little thing began to whimper, crying his little heart out as he announced his entrance into the world.
“At least let me help you for the next few days until you begin to feel more like yourself,” he offered. “If only to ease my mind.”
Zoro continued to stare at him for a long moment, uncertainty pinching his brow into a furrow. Mihawk opted to be patient and simply waited, settling a soothing hand on his younger partner’s arm for support.
“Fine,” he sighed heavily after several long moments of internal conflict, turning his face away from him.
He was upset. Either with him, the reality of his body’s undeniable demands for rest, the remaining pains of childbirth burdening him or all of the above. Mihawk knew this and sympathized with his sour mood, he did; but he also wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“Very well,” he nodded and made quick work of putting down fresh sheets and relocating his partner back into the comfort of their bed. Only when he helped him into a fresh change of clothes did he speak again, cupping the younger man’s cheek with a warm hand. “Thank you, darling.”
Zoro let out a disgruntled grumble at his words but at least he did not pull away. Mihawk was satisfied with that.
Now newly resettled, he laid their infant over the length of his lap instead, taking the opportunity to roll his shoulders and loosen the muscles from their stiff position with a groan and wince. The baby yawned widely and briefly wiggled within the confines of his swaddle but continued to doze, tiny mouth working as he slept. “What about you?
“What about me, darling?”
“When was the last time you sat down?” The disgruntled frown on his beloved’s face remained deep and now leached with mild concern. “Have you even slept since yesterday?“
Mihawk blinked.
Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t entirely sure when he last rested. He vaguely recalled drifting a bit while sipping an especially strong cup of coffee with their newborn in arms earlier in the day but after appealing to Zoro for the sake of his physical health, appearing the hypocrite would be a decisive wound to his argument. Roronoa didn’t need to know that he hadn’t slept properly since the night before his contractions first started over two days ago.
“It has been quite the uneventful series of days,” he remarked, sidestepping his question and neither replying or reassuring his partner.
“Well you should.” Roronoa’s lips turned further down, a knowing glint in his eye. “No wonder you look like shit.”
“Language,” he muttered and took a moment to deposit the linens in the bathroom with the rest of their laundry. “Do not worry. I’m not the one who just gave birth.”
“And that somehow means you don’t look like shit?”
“ Roronoa— ”
“You should come over here.” Roronoa patted the spot next to him invitingly. “Before you end up passing out on us at the bottom of some stairs.”
Mihawk stared at the nest of pillows and blankets he rested in. Items stuffed with feathers and lined with the downiest of furs. Most belonged to him and remained on his side of their bed but he had migrated them to Zoro’s side, selecting the best with care to afford his partner with the most comfortable rest possible, so he knew how cozy they were and it certainly did look like a good place for a respite.
“Not yet,” he murmured and went to the stockpile near the fireplace, intent on feeding what remained of the glowing embers there. “There are still a few things that need to be done.”
The list unfurled in his mind with a flourish anew: reviewing the garden’s layout, the castle’s remaining maintenance here and there, as well as other more immediate concerns. Cleaning the sheets soaking in the bath and emptying the tub so Roronoa could have a shallow soak, perhaps fetching more wood from the cellar to feed the fire at night. He ought to draw more drinking water for them both as well.
Something else too , he furiously scoured his thoughts but came up empty. I’ve something else to do as well but what was it..
Their newborn’s care was a priority as well, of course. Washing his linens to prevent them from piling up and getting him ready for his first bath. Checking that the stemmed cord remained pinned safely in place and taking him from his mother for a few hours once he’s finished his next nursing so that Roronoa could have a few precious hours of uninterrupted rest.
Of course, having their child with him meant he wouldn’t be able to do some of his previously mentioned tasks but it would just give him an opportunity to communicate Zoro’s condition to Dr. Chopper. He’d started keeping record of his observations on a notepad at the desk the moment the first contraction hit, noting his partner's condition as the hours passed. Important things for the former Straw Hat ship doctor to know when he arrived. He should review them and get them organized, ensuring that he’s missed no small detail—
“Do them later.” Roronoa pressed, voice dropping to a silky insistent tone. “Just come here for now.”
Dinner , he suddenly remembered, stricken. That’s right, he also needed to get Zoro’s dinner started. Something hearty and nutritious to stave off the chill and start his recovery properly on the right foot.
“Later..” How could he have possibly forgotten? Mihawk heaved a heavy, self-deprecating sigh. His meals were still going to be their baby’s meals for quite some time to come, after all.
He finished tending to the fire and pulled the screen back in place, eyeing the basin of cinders gathered beside it.
He ought to rid them of those too.
“You and the baby should get some more rest,” he picked the bucket up, already dreading the long descent down the winding stairs away from his loved ones. “I will be back to check in on you two by dinner time.”
And hopefully he’d have something warm and delicious for his partner to enjoy as well.
“ Fine .” Zoro answered a bit too brusquely, smoothing a palm over the baby’s small chest. He did it once, twice, and again and again, maintaining a gentle, soothing and consistent pressure, a gesture whose intent seemed to be in part to keep their son asleep. Yet Roronoa was looking straight at him, features marred by his stubborn scowl.
Something was building up in his head, he was certain of it. Sure enough, on the next pass he instead gripped the corner of the overlapping blanket and pulled, beginning the task of unraveling their child’s swaddle.
“What are you doing?” He finally questioned aloud, watching his partner with a curious eye.
“Nothing.” Roronoa said and continued to tug. He slipped a hand underneath their boy’s tiny body and gently lifted him up, allowing him enough space to free yet another layer from around the baby’s shoulder.
Mihawk got the picture quickly enough. Their son slowly began to fuss from the excessive movement and he tensed in response, hastily dropping the bucket aside in a puff of ash.
“It’s too cold for him.” A flare of protective anxiety tightened his throat. “Don’t uncover him.”
“It’s hot in here and you closed all the windows. Relax, it’s not like there’s any air getting in.” Zoro carelessly tossed the first layer of blankets aside. The soft square of printed fabric clung to the sheets on its path halfway towards the floor.
“You’re making a mess.” He chided. And after he just went through the effort of tidying their room up.
“Well, you wrapped him too tight,” Zoro hushed him. With the last of the blankets unraveled their baby, now awake, cooed, his little arms rising to stretch along either side of his head. His partner grinned down at their infant, poking the tip of his finger into his grasp. Tiny fingers immediately closed around it. “A little space to move around won’t hurt him. But if you want to stop me so bad, maybe you should get your ass in this bed to do it.”
“ Roronoa -” The younger man’s surname hardly made it past his lips when Zoro abruptly stopped playing with their son, smile morphing into a deep, confused frown.
“What’s this?” He murmured and suddenly, his hand went around their baby’s ankle and lifted the delicate limb in the air. The newborn made a small, startled noise, a kitten-like cry building in his tiny chest.
The fire roared at Mihawk’s back yet all he could feel was the chill of Kuraigana like ice water being poured down his back.
“What’s wrong?” His voice was a croak. Panic immediately bloomed in his chest, quickly overtaking his previous anxiety in a dizzying flurry of emotion.
“Oi, don’t be passing out. It’s just..” He turned their son’s leg a bit too brusquely for his liking, focusing intently on the tiny appendage resting in the curl of his palm. “Didn’t you notice this when you cleaned him up?”
“Notice what?” Mihawk began to move. Each urgent step that moved him towards the head of the bed fell like strikes on the stone floor.
“He… gets this from you too, I think.”
Him? He had no idea what he was talking about.
He’d checked their child over himself. Counted ten fingers and toes, took note of his coloring under the muck as he cleaned him post-birth, listened intently for any irregularities in his cries as he tenderly dressed him, wrapped him up, brought him back to Zoro for a proper soothing. Nothing had been wrong. He had been certain of it—
Roronoa raised their son’s leg up a little higher and the baby let out a whine, his tiny face twisting with displeasure. Mihawk was about to protest the force used when his eyes focused on an even more minuscule detail than their little one himself.
A beauty spot. Small but stark and unmistakable, located right on the slight arch of a chubby little foot. One that closely matched one of the various like it scattered throughout his own body.
“You see? Cause I sure as hell ain’t the one with these things all over the place.”
“..Language.” His reprimand rang hollow again. Roronoa’s tired, smudged eye focused back onto him.
“He doesn't know what that means.” His protest was easily dismissed, his partner’s voice filled with exhausted amusement. “Damn, you’re so fussy. But hey, glad to see you’ve finally come to join us.”
“I— ” And Mihawk paused, at last noting that he no longer stood at the fireplace, having all but run to Zoro and thrown himself into the bed in his rush to reach them, one leg folded underneath him and the other still on the floor. Roronoa only looked smug, tossing their son’s last remaining blanket over his chest and stomach with a quick flick of his wrist.
“Fresh,” he wryly remarked. His partner only flashed him a cheeky grin in return, looking very pleased as he admitted defeat and pried his footwear off, at last moving to join them both properly in bed.
“Cute, isn’t it? This kid really doesn’t take after me at all, huh.” He released their baby’s little foot, rubbing at his round tummy.
“There is still time,” Mihawk was quick to reassure him, the soft hope to see Zoro’s traits in the child they share still beating quietly away in his heart.
“Tch, yeah right. I want you to remember those words when we wake up to this kid staring at us with your eyes in his head.” He paused. “Oh, hey. Did you call them?”
Call . It took a moment for Mihawk’s mind to catch up to his partner’s words, reminding him of yet another task in his innumerable list of tasks, albeit this one was successfully completed.
“..Yes,” The edge of his mouth twitched at the dark little eyes blinking up at both of his parents, quietly wishing that they would retain their colorless shade. “While you both slept. They were quite… excitable..”
Quite a tame word to describe his partner’s former crewmates but one that always fit them nicely, nevertheless.
“Really.” Roronoa carefully closed the scant few inches between them until he could slouch against Mihawk’s side, head landing perfectly on the cup of his shoulder with a sigh. “No freak-outs, huh?”
“…Some concerns. Plenty of well-wishes,” he admitted. “I did my best to relate the events to Doctor Chopper.”
“Yeah? What’d he say?”
There wasn’t much he could say. “Simply that he’s relieved to hear that everything went well. And that he’d still like to administer his own examination once they all arrive.”
“Tch, so bothersome. Wait.” Zoro had seemingly registered his choice of words at last. “They?”
“You didn’t think that I could inform one and the rest wouldn’t come running to you, did you? Must I remind you that you passed your vivre card out to them quite some time ago? And your former navigator has a pose to the island as well.”
The younger man let out another curse. Mihawk gently cupped their son’s head, palm curling protectively over his tiny ears. Their baby cooed and closed his eyes, a noise that teetered between curiosity and confusion at his father’s gesture.
“ Language .” He tiredly warned again, not unkindly.
“I’d have thought you would have wanted to keep us locked up here for as long as possible.” His partner peered up at him. “What gives?”
Well, he was right about that; it was an undeniable truth and one that he struggled with. He would like nothing more than to hoard his little family away, especially in these early days.
And yet-
“They’re not here for me,” he dismissed. “They are coming for you.”
“Ha. You’re funny. You really think you’re gonna be spared from the storm?”
“I think that they will be quite busy fussing over this little one and you to pay attention to anything else, least of all me. Regardless, they will not be here for some time.” Including the stops needed to gather up the rest of their former crew, Miss Nami had speculated they would be on the seas for nearly a month before reaching Kuraigana . It would give them plenty of time for their little one to begin getting acclimated to the new world around him and for them to start getting used to their new responsibility as parents. “Only your Doctor Chopper plans to make his way first in about a week or so.”
“I don’t need a checkup. You already took care of that.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence but I am no doctor, darling.” His medical knowledge could be considered passable at best but it was mainly in stitching injuries and stemming weeping wounds. Not diagnosing illness. He would much rather prefer a clean bill of health from someone wholly more capable.
“Really,” a flash of mischief gleamed in his eye, like the turn of a blade winking its edge at him. Time has passed since they crossed blades in earnest yet excitement still rushed through Mihawk’s veins every time his gaze landed upon him. “So where’d all that stuff about me not being allowed to walk on my own come from, huh?”
“Do not try to be clever,” he pretended to sound long-suffering but there was no hiding his quiet amusement at his cheek. “There is no talking around this.”
“Yeah, yeah. I got it.”
Discussion settled at last, they fell into a companionable silence instead and in their shared moment of peace, they gazed down at their baby together, watching his wiggly little limbs cast shadows across the rumpled sheets.
“He’s big,” Zoro finally broke the silence with a whisper that hardly overpowered the crackling fire across the room.
“He is not .” Mihawk ran a finger over the perfect curve of their baby’s round cheek. “He is perfectly within the normal weight range for a newborn.”
“Sure as hell didn’t feel like it—”
“You did wonderfully.” Affection for his brave little partner and the culmination of his efforts during the last nine months clogged his throat. Overwhelming him in a dizzying wave.
“You didn’t do so bad yourself.” Roronoa yawned widely. “Considering we didn’t have a doctor or anything.”
“We are very fortunate there were no complications.” That had been his greatest fear. “Although considering how agreeable he was the entire time you carried him, he could have made things a little easier for you towards the end.”
“No kidding,” Zoro snorted. “He’s huge.”
“He is not.”
“Massive,” he doubled down. “For a moment there, I thought he was gonna be stuck in there forever.”
“That’s ridiculous, Roronoa.”
“Get your eyes checked, 'cause this kid's fat. Almost ripped me open and everything.”
“You exaggerate—”
Their baby’s little face twisted with a cry at the sound of his parents quarreling and Mihawk was quick to scoop him in arms, arranging their child to lie against his chest.
“Apologies, little love.” he murmured, rubbing a hand soothingly over his heaving back until his hiccuping began to peter out. He draped the discarded blanket over his tiny, curled body, humming softly to him through it all. “There, there.”
“I could have done that.”
“You’ve disturbed him enough.” Mihawk made sure to keep his tone low but firm. “Get some rest. I’ll care for him.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.” Zoro protested, albeit with little bite. “I’ve done nothing but sleep all day.”
“Then don’t force it but stay reclined. Resting your body regardless wherever possible contributes to your speedy recovery all the same.”
“Don’t have to say it twice,” he grumbled. The younger man stretched carefully with a soft noise, a little relieved moan slipping through his lips with the popping of joints and stiff muscles still echoing along his body. “Feels like that’s all I’m gonna be doing nowadays.”
“Only for now.” He eyed the book lying on a nearby side table. “Shall I read to you for a bit?”
His partner’s heavy mussed, green head moved against his shoulder in the negative. “It’s fine, don’t worry about me. You should get some rest too, while you can.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t stay for long,” he spoke ruefully. As wonderful as that sounded, there were things that needed to be done. On that note , “perhaps you have a specific request for today’s meal? Anything you’d like?”
“Not really. Not like I can drink anyway, so I’m good with whatever. ”
So no preference. Mihawk wasn’t surprised. Zoro had never been particularly picky in regards to his palate. “Hmm. Then perhaps now you can use some time to deliberate over my proposal with much more consideration instead.” He mumbled, relishing the tiny, warm weight of their son in his arms.
“Proposal? You mean the one about having a kid? Well, here ya go, if you haven’t noticed this little loaf yet,” Roronoa yawned despite his earlier claims and reached over to pat their baby’s bottom. “Come back in a couple of years. After this one, I‘m not really thinking about having another one of your fat kids anytime soon—”
“My proposal , my love.” He enunciated and Zoro’s hand finally stilled against their son’s tiny body as he mulled over his words.
“Oh that.”
How lackluster . “So you haven’t given it proper thought, then.” The notion stung a bit but he supposed he should have expected as much.
“We have talked about it before and my mind hasn’t changed: what for? We live here together, we got our kid. What else do we need?”
“I suppose there is no need , per say,” the words were like ash on his tongue. “But the ceremony is still quite significant when it comes to a legal and cultural standpoint.”
Roronoa’s face twisted. No doubt already imagining a rigid scenario of prim, clean cut attire and having dozens of eyes affixed onto him. “Important or not, it all sounds bothersome so why go through with it at all? If you wanna do some vows we can just do them right here and now, y’know? Not like it’s stopped us from making them before.”
The echo of a memory rang through his tired, muddled head. Of the first time their intentions were voiced and pledges were made by them both in the ruins of a galley he’d laid to waste, as if no one else existed around them. He pressed on. “Not always. Did you know that pirates who wished for the bonds of matrimony would simply conduct them under the blessing of their ship’s captain? Just as if it were before the eyes of a man ordained by their god?”
“And? What’s that got to do with us? I was a pirate to track your ass down. You were a pirate only ‘cause the marines wanted you to stop killing them, not from practice. Besides, you’ve never had a captain either,” A dry rasp of laughter shook the younger man’s body. “Unless we want to count the clown as one.”
Mihawk frowned. Why must his little partner mar such a happy day with a reminder of one of his greatest humiliations? As convenient as it was to hide under another’s flag, he loathed the days where he was more readily identified as one of that pests’ commanders. He was more than happy to leave that short time in the past where it belonged.
“No. I don’t recall ever making any sort of vow of loyalty to another, least of all to that.. man,” He closed his eyes for a brief respite from the persistent ache there. “But you once did.”
At his side Roronoa’s entire being jumped like an electric shock had run through him and he reared back from him with a little wince. Mihawk made to reach for him and he was quickly waved off.
“I’m fine, just moved too fast.” His partner pressed a hand against his still swollen stomach, releasing a slow, measured breath and leveling him with an incredulous look. “Don’t tell me that that’s why you called everyone here?”
“Of course not.” Mihawk paused and leaned back again, considering. “But if they’re here already, then—”
“Then what? You really thought we could just get hitched? You think Luffy could do that?” A disbelieving snort of laughter bubbled from the younger man’s chest, his lips stretching into a grin. “You have heard the stuff that comes outta his mouth, right?”
He was all too familiar with the boy who succeeded in his lofty dream, as both a one-time foe and a casual acquaintance through his partner. “The rare grain of sense, plenty of rather questionable leaps of logic and a very bad ear for harmonious tunes.” He paused. “Rivaled only by the place you have in his heart as one of his oldest friends.”
A single brow hiked itself high on Zoro’s face. “Is that mush supposed to convince me or something?”
“Does it not?”
“No?! But you’re real desperate though, aren’t you?” He turned his cheek onto his shoulder, peering up at him. His one eye was warm and sleepy. Oozing contentment and — dare he say — the flush of deep affection. “You really wanna marry me, huh.”
A knot rose in Mihawk’s throat. “Of course. But only if you’d like to.”
“Yeah but,” he sobered for a brief moment. “You want to, right? That’s why you won’t shut up about it.” A hint of a smile teased at the corners of his mouth. “And why you’d suggest Luffy of all people to do it for us.”
Well, when Roronoa said it like that it did sound like quite the ludicrous suggestion, rife with the potential for chaos and days-long parties that always followed the former pirate crew when any of them reached a goal or milestone. No doubt the castle would already ring for days in celebration of their child’s birth and for impending nuptials? There would be no moment of silence for weeks to come.
“I do.” He was certain there was nothing else he wanted more, save for the continued health and happiness of the little gift Roronoa worked so hard to give him, sleeping peacefully in his arms.
Nothing except for this.
It was like time was inching along a touch slower just for them and with it his breath held in his throat, awaiting an answer to the question he’s posed time before. His partner continued to watch him for a moment longer, his gaze intense and Mihawk held onto the tendril of hope that he would be given a bit more consideration this time around.
“Hn, okay,” Roronoa nodded in that easy manner of his and the vacuum around them popped. The gentle tap-tap of the whipping tree branches resumed, the fire snapped and his heart picked up speed. “When everyone gets here, I’ll ask Luffy if he can marry us.”
The words echoed incessantly in the empty spaces of his head. Mindful still of the child slumbering in his arms he surged forward without another word, capturing his partner’s mouth in a searing kiss.
Once, twice, thrice in short order. His excitement so palpable, near frantic and almost dizzying.
He’d said yes, after all. At last . He’d finally said yes…
“Geez, alright already. No need to get all sappy.” Despite his grumbling, Roronoa was grinning, cheeks ruddy and accepting each of his kisses as they came. Mihawk spared him only after gracing him with a few more, pressing his forehead to his partner’s with an almost relieved shudder.
“It vexes me how quickly you agreed to that,” he sighed. “After so much time has passed since I first proposed it.”
“What, were you finally gonna give up if I said no?” Roronoa insistently butted his head against his, affectionate like a big cat who didn’t know his size. “Damn. Maybe I should have held out after all.”
“You would not.”
“Why not? You’re so selfish. Someone ought to put you in your place, soon.”
Mihawk turned slightly to press another peck to the corner of Zoro’s mouth with a hum. “And I presume you are volunteering to do the deed yourself?”
“Probably not. Not like I have a good track record anyway.”
“Hmm. I didn’t realize we were keeping count.”
“Are you kidding? That makes our final battle, me coming back here to be with you, our baby, and now my hand. You’re really just squeezing everything you want outta me, huh.” Zoro tallied each pivotal occasion they’ve shared on his fingers, sarcasm lacing his tone. “Anything else you wanna throw in while I’m still feeling nice?”
“Well,” Mihawk turned to nose at their baby’s crown of summer curls, inhaling his soft, milky scent. “Another child doesn’t sound too bad.”
It was an idea that had begun to take root as their son grew in his partner’s womb; having a little companion for him to play and grow alongside, buried under the excitement of waiting for their first child’s arrival.
Perhaps a pretty little girl this time , he thought dreamily. One with her mother’s lovely, rounder features, just as fearless and determined in spirit. Bright as the hardy little sprouts that bounded from the first frost and brought a burst of color to the dreary island they called home. He could almost imagine it; their son’s tiny head peering curiously into a bassinet as he meets his sister for the first time.
Yes. A daughter to love and spoil, to complete their little family.
Clearly Zoro didn’t share his sentiment, if the way his mocking grin fell was any indication.
“You’re crazy.”
Mihawk blinked the spots from his vision. “I’ve never said things in jest before, have I?”
“I just pushed this one out,” Zoro gestured at their little boy. “We only talked about having the one. You’re not getting another one!”
“But he will be lonely, Roronoa.”
“He’s like— six hours old! He can’t see! He doesn’t know what the hell’s going on right now anyway!”
“What misinformation,” he sniffed, holding their infant protectively against his partner’s words. “He’s spent the last nine months with you and you think he won’t recognize your voice or mine? Mama’s quite cruel, isn’t he, little love?”
Their son cooed despite his sleepy state, nuzzling his little face deeper into his blanket and chest. Affection squeezed Mihawk’s chest like the pressure of the deepest seas converging to press down onto his lungs, stealing his breath by force beyond his control. He didn’t know that it was possible to love someone to such absolute devastation.
Well , he gazed at his now betrothed. That wasn’t quite true .
“ What .” A scowl painted itself on Roronoa’s lips. It was a purely performative gesture; he knew this, based on the little crinkle of his eye turning it into a silver half moon. “What are you staring for?”
The love was different, but still the same.
“No reason.” It seemed like convincing Roronoa for another child would have to wait. Not that he had too many reservations about it, anyway. They had only just welcomed their son into the world a day prior; it was only fair that he savored the little one they had now for as long as he could. “Would it be terrible of me if dinner came a little late?”
The longer he sat half-slouched in bed the more fierce his fatigue weighed down on him, transforming into a deep, almost palpable ache that pounded at every cell in his body like a wound.
Strange . He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been so thoroughly worn down, save for at the hands of this young man himself.
His partner frowned. “So you are tired.”
“…I may have misjudged my capabilities, yes.” He admitted, muffling a yawn.
“No kidding.” Roronoa forced him to lie further down. It was an awkward shuffle with a baby in arms but the older man managed, at least enough so that his body wouldn’t crick. “Go to sleep. I’ll wake you in a few or when I’m hungry, whichever happens first.”
Mihawk blinked and looked down at their newborn still cuddled against his chest. He looked so comfortable and loathed the thought of disturbing him. “But what about T—”
“He’ll be fine where he is. Not like you roll around in your sleep much, anyway. I’ll watch , if it makes you feel any better.” The younger man insisted when he opened his mouth to utter another feeble protest. “How are you any use to me or our baby the way you’re now?”
The older man blinked once, twice. A bit stunned at having his own words thrown back at him.
“Cheeky.” The easy surrender came with an immense swell of love, affection and a new wave of drowsiness, seeping into his bones like the heat of the fireplace filling their bedroom with warmth.
“Learned from the best. Or the former best, if you want to be specific about it.” Zoro began to run his fingers through his hair, splitting the slicked-back locks into separate curls. “Get your rest now, old man. We still got the rest of our lives to raise this kid and argue about how you’re not getting that second one outta me.”
His exhaustion returned with a reckoning and paired with their toasty little boy, the demand for rest tugged insistently at his consciousness.
“…One more. A girl, at least,” he mumbled groggily, eyes slipping shut despite his best efforts to remain alert. “With your hair.. and your eyes, this time..”
“Shut up.” His betrothed’s rich, deep laughter echoed around him. “You’re talking nonsense.”
Mihawk frowned. Was it not a shared sentiment to want to see your beloved’s image in a child you share? He didn’t think so.
“Stop fighting it.” Zoro chided. His fingers remained steady against his scalp, moving in slow and deep, concentric circles that only served to nudge him closer and closer to a state of unconsciousness.
Roronoa knew that playing with his hair was a sure way to settle him and Mihawk was certain he was doing it on purpose. Still, he hadn’t the energy or desire to push him away. Instead he wished he had the forethought to better tend to his own needs. To anticipate the drain his new responsibility would demand and prepare properly. Maybe then he could have stayed awake a little longer now, been able to spend a bit more time with his little family—
We still got the rest of our lives .
A simple reassurance to make him accept a moment of rest, he knew that, yet Mihawk drew comfort from those words nevertheless. Roronoa was not one to say things thoughtlessly, not one to make promises rashly to win his silence.
The rest of their lives together..
Mihawk rolled the words in his head one last time and welcomed the veil of sleep that had been patiently waiting for him just beyond his reach. He quite liked the sound of that.