Chapter Text
Zoro never really liked this prince that Perona was saddled with.
When the two of them arrived at the Germa Kingdom to broker peace between their empires through an arranged marriage, the third son of the Vinsmoke legacy met them with a dazzling smile and a kiss to Perona’s hand. To the princess’s bodyguard, it always looked plastic, and he often complained to her that he would never entrust such a man to Perona if he had a say in the affair. She would just twirl her parasol in his face and say it didn’t really matter, it was just a marriage of convenience and Prince Sanji was just being polite. Sanji even went through the effort to make sure Perona and Zoro had luxurious castle lodgings, saying that he wasn’t so forward as to demand they sleep in the same room before the wedding.
Of course, that didn’t alleviate the clear disdain the two men had for one another. Anytime Zoro caught the eye of Sanji, his fakey smile turned into an annoyed sneer, his curly eyebrows scrunching in obvious jealousy over Zoro’s proximity to the princess. Nothing he said seemed to appease him, the prince always having something to criticize about the knight in terms of speech or behavior, often calling him uncouth. And Zoro responded in kind, the two throwing names at each other and Sanji complaining that ‘Prince Curly is a stupid insult when everyone in my family has the same eyebrows.’
The prince even went so far as to pick physical fights, challenging him to a swordfight out in the forest one day under the pretense of a friendly spar. If it was friendly initially, it quickly turned fierce as the two were surprisingly well-matched, the biting sound of metal ringing through the trees. Of course Zoro still emerged victorious, pinning the smug blond royal under his blade with a grin, Sanji’s eyes wide in some unreadable expression. To the knight, it didn’t matter as long as he was able to show this snotty brat (who was his age) that he was outmatched.
However, Zoro was made painfully aware of the situation by a horn in the distance; if a royal guard found him with a sword poised over the prince, he’d surely be executed. And while there was surely a thrill to fighting off dozens of armed guards, he had no intention of dying this way.
But before he could back off, Sanji scrunched up his face and laughed. Breathless, his laughter rang loud through the canopies of old oak trees, suddenly looking more like a young prince than any other time they met. He smiled and nodded towards the bodyguard, thanking him for the good match, and he grasped Zoro’s hand so they could make their way back to the castle.
From then on, the two were still not on great terms, but it was different. The sneers were less extreme or were followed by a playful snicker, and Sanji actually tried to engage in conversation. It turned out the prince was an expert chef, often asking Zoro for Perona’s preferences and whipping up special meals and treats during the day. Zoro was surprised to be on the receiving end of these meals, only briefly considering whether they were poisoned before devouring them. It seemed odd, considering there were several fully-staffed kitchens in the castle, but Sanji claimed no one else in the castle would eat his cooking so he just wanted to share.
Even just a few days ago, he spotted Sanji and Perona laughing out in the royal garden, Sanji weaving a flower crown from bright golden daffodils. He figured it was for the princess, mentally chastising the prince for still not knowing Perona preferred darker colors. Yet when he approached the two, Sanji’s face lit up and he proudly placed it on the bodyguard’s head, snickering all the while that it suited him. Zoro swore up and down he wasn’t flushed, even as Perona cackled just beside him.
On some level, Zoro might’ve been starting to warm up to the prince.
But now, as he stared down the faded oak door to the prince’s tower, the afternoon sun bearing down on the world outside, he lamented that he LOATHED the prince right now. Zoro harshly pounded on the door before turning the knob and letting himself in.
Sanji calmly sat at his small, antique desk at the far side of the small room, not even startling enough to look up. Per usual, his room was made up of an organized chaos, everything seemingly having its place between clusters of tools and trinkets; clean enough to be presentable, but packed to the brim with anything he might need in a pinch. It was the furthest image of a prince’s quarters, looking even less lavish than the lodgings Zoro had, though the knight already knew Sanji was a weird case. As Zoro stomped over, the prince sighed and deposited his quill into his inkwell, folding his hands underneath his chin to look up at him.
“What the hell is the meaning of this?” Zoro demanded.
The prince sucked his teeth, putting a finger up to his lips. “I’m sure, Sir Roronoa, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He didn’t even bother to call him Sir Mossy. Shit, this was serious. With a huff, Zoro rummaged through his satchel and pulled out a folded note, presenting it as though the prince wouldn’t recognize it.
In his hand was a delicately crafted poem, the latest in the slew that the prince had written in obnoxious calligraphy for Princess Perona from just this morning. While she bemoaned them as cheesy when they first met, she quickly began to actually look forward to receiving them, much to Zoro’s perplexion. It was only now that he understood why; at the bottom, in her inky handwriting, was a deciphered message.
Tonight at forest edge. North of garden. Pack to escape.
The prince’s expression grew dark and distant, finally standing from his desk chair.
“It’s a poem, my dear knight,” he teased quietly. “It means what it means.”
Zoro growled as Sanji’s voice dropped to a soft whisper. “The walls have ears and all. Though, since they rarely bother stationing guards up here, it should be fine if we speak quietly and quickly.”
“What’s your angle here?” Zoro asked, just barely lowering his voice.
“Angle?” Sanji repeated, pacing a bit around the knight. “I have no angle except to ensure the safety of your princess.”
“It talks about escaping,” the knight continued, pointing at Perona’s scrawlings for emphasis, “and while Perona might be content with your message, I need to know what you mean by all this!”
The prince sighed, walking back over to his desk to rummage around. From the drawer, he extracted a curved dagger with an intricate hilt.
“My father spoke to me last night,” Sanji whispered, barely making a sound. “He said that on the evening of our honeymoon, I am to kill the princess to ensure the merging of our kingdoms while keeping my side of the family in power.” He throws the dagger onto the desk, the metal harshly clattering against the wood. Zoro could only stand there in shock; had Sanji told him this sort of thing when they first met, he’s sure that the bodyguard would’ve been suspicious of revealing such a plan, ready to call him a liar and manipulator. But what he knew of Sanji now, he was sure it was all the truth.
“I, of course, have no intention of harming a lady,” the prince continued, walking around his desk towards Zoro, “much less the lovely Perona after the time we’ve spent together. I’m sure the king knew this and intended this as a test for me while also leveraging control over your kingdom. So tonight, I’m staging a distraction in the castle to keep the guards off you while you two head to the drop site near the forest. I know you can’t navigate for shit so Perona should lead you to where I’ve left provisions and a plan for you two to—”
“Come with us.”
Sanji froze, whipping his head around to stare at the princess’s bodyguard with wide eyes. The words came without him thinking, yet his gaze remained resolute as he grabbed Sanji’s hand. “Come with us. You don’t have to stay here, you’ve taken good care of the princess so I’m sure you’d be welcomed in our home kingdom.”
“I- I just told you that I can’t,” Sanji retorted, a pained smile on his face as he yanked his hand away. Zoro could sense the hesitation, though. “If I’m not there to distract the guard, then your chances of success plummets. Not to mention that if my siblings or, heavens forbid, my father catches wind of your escape, you’re both as good as dead!” Zoro resisted a quip about relishing the challenge of defeating the entire Vinsmoke family line, instead just sighing.
“Besides,” Sanji continued, rubbing his arm in discomfort, “I have everything I need here. I’ve lived here all my life, and I’ll be fine. I’m a prince, after all.”
Zoro clenched his fists, his eye glancing down at the bandages peeking out from beneath Sanji’s billowing dress shirt. He’s seen him in the aftermath of his father’s rage. He’s seen him try to evade the knight in shame, insisting his injuries occurred in an unrelated incident while the knight bandaged him up. He's seen him locked inside his little tower under pretense of illness, the passionate blue fire that burns behind his eyes resolutely doused in the following days.
He knows that, whether their plan works or not, Sanji will be found out and killed. Or, knowing the cruelty of the Vinsmokes, he'd be made to endure something much worse.
But he can’t bring himself to say it.
“But you’re not happy!” Zoro said instead, frustration building in his chest. “You’re a prince and you’re miserable here, you let yourself be miserable by staying here! And for what??”
Sanji clicked his tongue in anger, puffing himself up like he usually did when they had their squabbles. “What do you know?! In case you’ve forgotten yourself, your duty is to your princess and you don’t owe any loyalty to me. And I’m doing what I need to do because I owe my loyalty to the one I love!!”
Sanji’s eyes widened, his hand quickly going up to his mouth like he let something slip. He couldn’t understand what he said wrong, so Zoro pressed on.
“You’re so willing to give up your happiness, your life, for your so-called love?”
“Yes!!” Sanji yelled, readjusting his stance as he stepped right into Zoro’s space. The prince’s face was a ruddy pink, almost cute in the low light that came in through the window. “You're a bodyguard, you should know better than anyone! If I can keep those I love from getting hurt, I’ll do anything it takes. It’s only fair!”
“Fair for who, you dumbass?!” Zoro spat back, pushing down the urge to smack this royal brat upside his head. “You’re just getting yourself hurt!! I know you care about her, but how could this be—”
Zoro’s words die in his throat as the prince’s soft lips roughly pressing against his, delicate hands grasping the sides of the knight’s face.
If he could hear the deafening silence of the room, Zoro was sure he could make out the gentle metallic ring of his earring move against Sanji’s finger. But all he could hear was the rushing of blood to his head and the pounding of a heartbeat. He wasn’t sure whose it was, but he dare not try to confirm. As his body refused to move, the stunned bodyguard thought back to a prince pinned under a blade with an expression he thought was unreadable. In his stupor, his memories came into sudden clarity.
When the prince finally pulled away, Zoro could only stare in shock at Sanji’s face, his blue eyes laced with love and sadness.
“I’ll do whatever it takes,” he repeated breathlessly.
Taking advantage of Zoro’s surprise, Sanji shoved him hard out the door, quickly kicking the door closed and locking it with a few clicks.
“Hey!!” Zoro called, quickly regaining his composure to pound on the door. “Hey!! Prince!!! You bastard, c’mon!!!”
“Make sure you and Perona are ready,” Sanji murmured, his unsteady voice barely heard through the oak. The prince’s back was likely pressed against the door. “Leave quickly, before guards hear the commotion. Goodbye, Roronoa Zoro.”
Zoro gritted his teeth, ready to keep yelling and smashing his hands against the wooden door until it broke, but the prince spoke the truth; in the distance, the bodyguard could hear the bustle of nearby royal guards. He glared at the door.
“This isn’t over, Sanji,” Zoro growled. A threat and a promise. Giving the door one final hit, Zoro made his way back down the stairs, back towards Perona’s quarters with heavy steps.
Zoro knew he could’ve pushed Sanji away. Treason or no, he had wrestled with the prince more than a few times, and he doubted Sanji would’ve fought him over it. But he didn’t. He didn’t want to. He was shocked but, walking alone with his thoughts, he didn’t… hate it. But he didn’t have to mull it over that long to know that the prince already made up his mind about how Zoro felt.
Zoro brushed his calloused fingers against his lips, a gentle flush brushing across his glaring face.
He’s always hated that about this prince.