[ it was violent enough to turn even sanji's stomach, the cruelty like a cold hand around his neck. whatever attraction he'd felt for pierce has been shifted to a far less pressing place now. ]
you'll put a target on all of our backs if you kill someone. don't be stupid. i'm in my room.
( it feels like an important distinction. people, like his mom, die of illness all the time. people, like his dad, are murdered by pirates. there's purpose. there's intent.
it was supposed to be over. )
i'm so fucking tired of feeling powerless here like i can't protect anyone
( and that's all zoro sends because he is very quickly opening the door to sanji's room from their adjoining bathroom, dropping the wado on the floor with a noisy clang before wordlessly crossing the room and climbing into sanji's bed, curling up beside him, head in his lap and face buried against his thighs, clothes and still-shaking hands covered in a thin layer of white dust. )
[ powerless is an apt description, even if sanji has never and could never see zoro in such a way. his eyes flick towards the door when zoro clambers in, unmoving when he joins him on the bed, interrupting his mental menu exercises, a futile attempt to feel useful in his own way.
the one hand preoccupied with his cigarette stays at his mouth, but the other brushes dust from zoro's shoulder, rubbing his fingers together. ]
That guy made his choices. You heard what he did. No, he didn't deserve to be murdered for it, but there's no way you could've protected him. There's no way you could've known.
( and zoro leaves it at that, because at the heart of it, that is what matt was to zoro. a friend that helped him come to terms with the magic they'd left behind in the village, the depths of the connections they'd lost. he learned, too, that there's all kinds of magic in this house — even some that reminded him of the parts he liked despite being in the witches' hold.
so, yeah, zoro sucked his dick and experienced matt's sex magic in a way that felt so warm and safe and familiar, but matt was so much more than his sex magic. and his dick. that zoro sucked.
he takes in a long inhale of the cigarette smoke lingering in the air before sighing. )
That's what everyone kept telling me after Nami was attacked — that there's no way I could've protected her. But I was sleeping right next to her when she was taken.
[ that zoro would go off and make a friend that sanji doesn't know about has him feeling a little prickly, even if sanji has gone off and done all sorts of things that he shouldn't have. clearly, this friend meant a great deal to him, if he's sulking in his lap over his murder. ]
You already know why that happened. We blacked out, all of us. Stop blaming yourself. You were still the best person to be with her that night. I don't regret that it was you.
[ idiot, he wants to tack on at the end, though he understands his pain, his guilt. he feels it too, in that he wasn't the one to be with nami. he wasn't worthy of being at her side, and might never be again. ]
We're all alive. [ alive, though in varying degrees of happiness. the alive part is the one that matters most right now, though. ] Who do you think has kept us alive and together all this time? It sure as hell wasn't me, and Luffy and Usopp only just got here.
[ his eye gives a phantom throb beneath his hair. quieter — ] You're the reason I'm alive, and you're definitely the only reason Nami's stayed this long.
( none of it really makes zoro feel any better, too weighed down by the freshness of matt's death, the gruesome video that made his hands shake so badly he almost dropped his phone, the immediate need to swing his sword and see blood. he didn't know any of the people who died during that fucked up game, so even with how overwhelming the guilt from nami's attack had felt, the death thing hadn't sunken in. zoro can't help but remember the last time a friend died, a promise that he still hasn't been able to fulfill —
but he's made other promises, too. to luffy, to help him become king of the pirates. to sanji and nami, all the way back in a cramped bed in a witch's castle with a broken leg and blood smeared between their interlocked hands, to protect the two of them until the end. the end, some nebulous, unknown thing that zoro never hopes to see.
the cook is right — he still has them, at least. he's done that much. even in the midst of all of his failings, he still has luffy and usopp and koby and nami and sanji. sanji, who has miraculously not told zoro to fuck off.
he turns over, head still in sanji's lap, looking up at the ceiling. )
[ he thinks maybe zoro will fall asleep in his lap, and he won't entirely mind it — at least it'll mean he can go back to mapping out his imaginary menu and feeling the ache of missing the galley on the merry. pep talk done, he tips his head back and blows a lazy ring toward the ceiling, his brow tightening when he feels zoro shift.
the question registers. no, not a question. it's a demand, really, and sanji bristles immediately, expertly tamping down the swell of panic that threatens to rise in his chest. he has half a mind to give zoro a shitty, textbook answer about the landscape and climate of the north blue, the vegetation and the wildlife and the types of fish found in the seas — but when he steals a glance down, something in zoro's gaze unfortifies him. ]
The North Blue, eh? [ he shouldn't. he can't. it's the one thing he promised, the only reason judge vinsmoke let him go alive. don't tell anyone i'm your father. ] The part I'm from is a military kingdom. There's a big castle there, with five different towers. I haven't gone back since I was eight or nine. Can't remember.
[ he remembers. eight years old, after spending months in the dungeon with an iron mask over his head. ]
I was on a cruise ship after that. It was called the Orbit. Served as a trainee chef there, and was the best one you ever saw. [ another plume of smoke into the air, his heart beating uncomfortably fast even as he sits casually still. ] Two years on that ship, and then Red Leg Zeff boarded us and tried to kill me. A storm got us both first, though. Then we spent eighty-five days stranded on a rock before someone rescued us. Just me and him — on separate sides, because he was a shitty old geezer with no conversational skills. And no food.
[ his free hand comes down, smoke wafting out as he exhales, his fingertips resting lightly against the tight muscles of zoro's stomach. his hand curls, gently. ]
[ flashback to nearly a decade of them spent in various states of fear, hurt, and imprisonment. the first time zeff and the other rowdy chefs at the baratie had thrown him a surprise party, sanji had had a panic attack, then told zeff to go fuck himself. ]
they're a happy time, usually when you eat a big fancy cake and blow out a bunch of candles. you need a cake? no one here can make one better than me. is it for your hot mum?
[ ——pause on everything for a moment as he gets his blood pressure BACK IN LINE. ]
I would thank you to not speak of my mother so comfortably. It is for my nephew. His name day is in a month from now.
—Did you get the previous cake to my mother, also? Plum, with roasted pecan and cinnamon? I had asked the other one to have it made. Not the younger other, the older one who doesn't cook.
i can do a cake for your nephew. tell me about what he likes. flavors.
nah, that wasn't me. you must've asked carmy. he and his friend aren't around anymore, but it's no big loss. if she likes plum cake, i can make her another. a woman should never be in want of cake.
most cakes are fairly sweet. that doesn't exactly narrow it down for your nephew. i can whip up something great, trust me, but if you want to ask him about his tastes, you can let me know in a couple days so i can make something a bit more tailored to his palate.
great. plenty of time for your little family party.
Tarts and citruses. Light sweetness, with a cut of sour or salt. She does not mind savoury flavours in her desserts, but they will not be her first choice. Roasted almonds and dried peaches are not as common in King's Landing, you would gain favour with them among the servings.
There will be no party. There will be no other questions. It will be just cake. This does not need to be more than a simple pastry.
I will make a few things clear now. Please pay attention.
One; This is meant to be a surprise. Two; I would like to not be mentioned if he asks about the cake. In fact, I would prefer to be completely erased from that conversation, if it ever happens. Three; His mother, stepfather, and stepsister-cousin is here. If you truly must ask, you have options.
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