In Dreams
Chapter 11
They made plans to meet again by the
servant’s gate at the earliest possible convenience. The sun hadn’t
even risen yet when Sanji approached on horse looking tired and
slightly rumpled. Zoro was throwing his most intimidating glare at
the guardsmen. “Why exactly did we have to get up so early?”
Sanji yawned, irritated. He was slightly hung over and certainly
hadn’t slept well. “To avoid gossip. I think we should lay
a little low, at least until I have this Camille issue sorted out.”
They made their way through the gate and Zoro led Sanji down the same
road he had lead Johnny and Yosaku the previous day. “You
really are a lot more worried about what people think about you than
I thought.” Sanji snapped. An entire night of dreams that Sanji
thought but refused to admit might have been somewhat erotic had not
aided him. His current headache wasn’t helping either. “And
you’re not concerned at all about your own reputation? Certainly I
don’t care what they know, do not know, or think they know
about me. I don’t care how much they talk about it. But I am
concerned with how it affects those around me. Nami, Luffy, Usopp.
/You/. They have nothing but life at Versailles, and should
they fall out of favor and become the center of ridicule they would
be somewhat… inconvenienced. Or am I wrong?” Zoro said with a
small smile on his face Sanji. What a grump his blond truffle was so
early in the morning. Sanji hadn’t thought of it like that.
He frowned, feeling slightly ashamed. They were quiet for the rest of
the journey. The sun was starting to come up, though it was too
cloudy and foggy to see it shine. Sanji recognized the little glade
they were approaching. He had been here before with Nami and Robin a
few times, back when he had first come to Versailles. Sanji wondered
how Zoro knew about this place. He had the answer before he
asked. “I come here to train. Not a lot lately, but I came
here daily when I first came to Versailles. No one comes here this
early in the morning.” They dismounted and left their horses
to graze in a small patch of green grass. Zoro laid a bundle on the
ground and began to unpack it while Sanji stretched a little. He made
sure to wear clothes in which he could move, but he had to remove the
precautionary formal layers first. It wouldn’t do to be caught in
Versailles wearing plain clothes. Underneath he wore a plain poet’s
shirt which was unlaced enough to reveal his sternum, and a pair of
simple trousers made of pliable leather with leggings underneath.
Zoro had brought six swords with him total; the three
Wazamono and three wooden boken. He was laying the Wazamono out
reverently when his gaze accidentally wandered to his companion, who
was… Bending. Bending in ways that normal humans shouldn’t.
Bending in ways that- Zoro gulped as he saw Sanji move from a
back bend to a hand stand, his shirt coming untucked and sliding
across his bellying revealing inch by creamy, gorgeous inch. In the
quick flash of flesh Zoro could see that Sanji had a muscular abdomen
and oh God, just a flash of golden curls starting below his belly
button and disappearing in the line of his trousers. Heat swept
through Zoro’s body like a flash fire. Sanji chuckled
embarrassed and quickly tumbled out of the hand stand to right
himself. He pulled his shirt down sheepishly. “Oops.” He
smiled. Zoro was looking at him strangely but he quickly
turned around and busied himself with his swords. Sanji did a few
more stretches before he came up behind Zoro to look at the swords.
They really were unlike anything he’d ever seen. Zoro slowly
unsheathed each one for him to observe. “May I hold one?”
He asked a little breathlessly. He wasn’t a fencer, but the idea of
something so important to Zoro, from such a distant land… They were
strange. Their design wasn’t made for piercing or the whip like
strikes of the French sword. This was for slicing, rending a body in
half… The folded steel made a strange wave pattern. Sanji held it
before him like he would his own, much neglected sword. Zoro
immediately corrected his position. “Like this. You pull it
from your left, out of the sheath, and let the sharp end face away
from you. When you hold it with both hands the sharp end should be
facing the ground. Like this. That’s it.” “This is much
heavier than mine. How do you manage to hold three?” Sanji asked,
in awe. Despite the weight he could feel the fluid travel of the
sword as he moved it. “How do you fence with this thing?” Zoro
smiled. “You don’t. Your aim is to kill, not compete. Every blow
is a fatal one. There is no planned foot work, only strength. No
tactics, just a single goal. These schools for learning aren’t for
culture or refinement, they’re for practical purposes of survival.
Although most samurai are scholars and artists.” He added
thoughtfully. In his own time in Japan he had learned how to compose
very simple poetry. His grasp of the language had been competent
enough to do that, at least. Although his calligraphy, he had been
told, wasn’t very good. “How would I approach my opponent
then? How would I strike him?” Zoro picked up one of the
wooden swords and demonstrated an over head strike. “You would be
aiming for the neck, your goal is to cut through the torso. Or you
could strike from below, from the waist up to the shoulder.”
Another demonstration. “You could also impale him by thrusting
straightforward.” He thrust the boken forward. Sanji
shuddered and returned the sword to Zoro. “It sounds very
bloody.” “Japan is a nation at war with itself. An
environment such as that creates an entirely different culture than
what we know and understand.” Sanji nodded. “So show me
how you manage all three swords at once.” Zoro picked up the
other two boken, placing one in his other hand and the other in his
mouth. “Like this.” He said without any trouble,
surprising Sanji with how well he was able to speak with a large
chunk of wood in his mouth. “Being able to speak normally
must have been quite the challenge.” He remarked. Zoro
shrugged. “It wasn’t so important functionally as I was simply
tired of being mocked for sounding like I had a sword in my mouth.
Your opponent doesn’t deign to respect you if you sound like a
child with a speech impediment. Which I did for a long time.” Zoro
said without any seeming difficulty. “Still though, it
doesn’t look like the sword in your mouth could carry in power in a
strike.” Zoro surveyed the area. He pointed to a tall tree
with an average size trunk. Sanji raised an eyebrow. Surely the man
would knock his teeth out. And then to his surprise Zoro handed him
the other two boken so that he only held one in his mouth. Sanji knew
this wouldn’t turn out well, but nonetheless Zoro charged at the
tree. For a moment it seemed as though he had missed completely.
Sanji didn’t even see the wooden sword connect, but suddenly
splinters were flying everywhere and the top of the tree was hurtling
towards the ground. He stood there for a moment, speechless.
Then Zoro smiled at him, boken still in his mouth will all teeth
still in tact. The chef sat down, still staring at the tree.
No one at Versailles, no in France, hell maybe even the world, could
match that. He had never seen Mihawk before, but he had heard the
stories of his battles. None of those grand tales could match the
reality of seeing Roronoa Zoro destroy a tree with one wooden sword
in his mouth, in one strike. And so easily done! It was
as if the swordsman could read his thoughts. “It is a much larger
world than we are given to know here at Versailles Sanji. This is
nothing compared to Mihawk.” They were silent for a few
moments before Zoro asked, “What did you want to show me?” This
broke Sanji from his reverie. Suddenly he realized the insignificance
of his own power, and felt embarrassed about even showing the
swordsman. “Ah, well, you certainly have trumped me, but it
can’t hurt to show you anyway. You said you learned hand to hand
combat in Japan?” Sanji said standing up and brushing the dirt and
grass off of himself. “Yes. They call it karate.” “Well,
in France, as you well know, we call it Savate. Care to spar?”
Sanji took a stance. It was Zoro’s turn to be surprised. It
made sense though. Those longs legs would be very much a waste of
space for anything else. Well, not exactly anything, but Zoro
ended that thought right there. He tossed away his jacket and
remaining boken and rolled up his sleeves. He was familiar with the
rules of Savate. Sanji started in immediately with a series
of several low front sweeps, hoping to knock the swordsman off his
feet. Zoro was light on said feet however, and let himself be herded
backwards. Zoro jabbed for the chef’s jaw while Sanji’s
concentration was on his feet. Or at least he thought it was, but
Sanji took the advantage and countered with a fouette, a round house
kick aimed at his head. This forced the swordsman to duck and Sanji
again used the sweep and successfully knocked the swordsman’s feet
out from under him. Zoro’s back hit the ground with a thud, but he
was back up in a flash with a kick up. A round house kick from Zoro
countered with Sanji’s own roundhouse kick. Zoro cringed as
his shin hit Sanji’s and he backed down. He didn’t even see Sanji
so much as blink at that connection. Sanji smiled. “Had
enough?” “No. You?” Zoro didn’t wait for his reply but
took the momentary distraction to close the distance between them and
start a flurry of direct bras avant, or jabs. Sanji was able
to block them all but soon found himself with his back to a tree. He
hadn’t even noticed where Zoro had been herding him. The swordsman
aimed a powerful punch at the chef’s head only to have his fist
connect with the tree. Sanji had ducked and rolled to the left.
Luckily he had, because there was now a sizeable dent in the poor
tree where his head had been. But Zoro was nothing if he
wasn’t quick and he took advantage of Sanji’s close proximity to
the ground. The chef hadn’t expected to be tackled, there
wasn’t any grappling in Savate after all, and soon found himself
pinned underneath the swordsman, his face in the dirt and his right
arm twisted up behind him. But that wasn’t exactly
something he couldn’t handle, either. He slammed his right
foot backwards into Zoro’s back, causing the green haired man to
hurtle forwards. Sanji was free but Zoro was back up again and coming
at him with revers, a roundhouse kick that use the sole of the
foot to make contact instead of the toes, and it was aimed straight
at his chest. Sanji flipped backwards but the kick still caught his
hip and he crashed his landing. A kick up and he was back on
his feet. Now he was getting frustrated. He ran at Zoro and jumped
but faltered mid air when he heard Zoro holler, “Whoa whoa whoa
WHOOOOAAA!” Splash! “That was a very
angry duck.” “I wasn’t aware duck had such ferocious
teeth. Are you sure you don’t need me to bandage that for you?” “I
assure you I’ll live.” “I am sorry. I really didn’t
see-“ “I said it was alright Sanji, for the last time.
Besides, it gives me a reason to stay away from the palace a little
longer.” Sanji stretched leisurely on the grass they had
only a few moments ago been sparring on. Sanji had backed Zoro into
the pond unwittingly and had gone down with him because of it. But
really, are ducks naturally that aggressive? Sanji had hung his shirt
on a branch to dry and had been trying to convince Zoro to do the
same. “You’ll soil your coat and it can’t be
comfortable, just take it off already.” “I already told
you-“ “So you’re a modest man!” He said in mock
surprise. “What else haven’t you told me?” Sanji said, grinning
at the man stretched out next to him. Zoro sighed. “Alright,
but don’t complain if it bothers you.” Zoro slipped his shirt off
and went to hang it on the branch next to Sanji’s. “If
what bothers me… oh.” Sanji didn’t say anything for a moment.
The size of the scar that ran from Zoro’s right shoulder to his
left hip didn’t inspire him to say much. It looked as though
someone had tried to slash the man in half. Zoro lay back
down. He really didn’t mind anyone seeing it normally, but he did
mind with Sanji. Sort of. “Can I ask you how you got it?”
Sanji asked, a bit embarrassed of himself. He hadn’t meant to put
the other man in an awkward position. “Mihawk.” Sanji
sat up. “Mihawk? I thought you’d never met him before.” “I
never said that.” Zoro closed his eyes, ready for a nap but
Sanji wasn’t going to let it go at that. “Well how did
this happen? When? Where? And if he was able to do something like
this to you why in God’s name would you seek him out again? How did
you even survive-“ “Sanji.” “What?” “One
question at a time. As for the first one, I think it should be quite
obvious how this happened.” He made a slashing noise and a motion
with his finger across his chest. “As for where, Germany. How I
survived? I guess sheer will power so that I could meet him again.
And of course I would want to meet him again. I want to become the
best, so I must beat him.” Sanji didn’t know what to say
to that. Zoro seemed to take it all so casually, so Sanji decided it
wasn’t his place to worry about it. He lay back down. He had hoped
by coaxing Zoro to remove his shirt he would get a good eyeful. After
all, the bastard had seen him completely naked, why shouldn’t he
return the favor? But he settled for eyeballing the swordsman’s
torso while he napped. To say the scar marred his chest wasn’t
really accurate. Sanji hadn’t really expected anything specifically
when Zoro removed his shirt, but he hadn’t expected that. But now
that he’d seen it he felt it was somehow in place. Natural, like
Roronoa Zoro, the number one swordsman in all of France, wouldn’t
really live up to his name if he didn’t carry some evidence with
him. He admired the man as he slept, watching the slow rise
and fall of his tanned, well muscled chest. The man really was built,
Sanji admitted. Certainly Sanji was fit, but Zoro… Zoro could punch
through a tree, as he’d witnessed today. It was very
strange to Sanji. He’d only ever admired the female figure, so
looking at a man was very much different. To be honest he’d never
had a woman, always holding out hope for that amazing one, one he was
so sure was going to be Nami…. Surely he gave people a different
impression, being too flirty or flamboyant, but that had changed when
he came to Versailles. But he knew women smelled better than men,
generally, and wore a lot more clothes than men as far as layers
went. He was thankful to have been born a man if only for that. Women
wore a lot of make up and put all manner of trinkets in their hair,
which could be designed in all manner of ways. There was a lot to
take in when admiring a woman, from the intricate silk design of her
dress to the curves of her bosom. To be honest it was a bit
distracting. Men were much simpler, something he’d noticed
even before Zoro had come along. Sure, there were exceptions. Ace had
always worn outrageously bright colors and Sanji sometimes took the
time to count his freckles if he fell asleep in the middle of a
conversation. But when it came to Zoro, it was more a pleasure than a
chore. Everything about him was simple but elegant, strong but not
barbaric. His tan skin stretched over intimidating muscle, the
contrast of green hair, green as the grass they were laying on,
against the three delicate gold earrings in his ear. The faded lines
of concentration on his strong face… Sanji closed his eyes
and rolled over on his side facing the other man. Sanji
had finally closed his eyes so Zoro took the opportunity to admire
him. Zoro had been half hard ever since Sanji’s stretching
exercises and he was extremely lucky he’d been thrown into the cold
water of the pond. Fighting, real fighting always excited him.
He sighed deeply, enjoying the sight of Sanji’s peaceful face and
smooth skin. He refused to look at the lower part of his waist. He
didn’t have anymore excuses for being thrown into the pond. Sanji
couldn’t help it, he opened his eyes again to get another look and
found himself looking into a pair of black eyes looking at him
intently. He’d been caught sneaking a peek! He blushed and looked
away, Zoro did the same thing. Now what did Sanji think of
him? Zoro had obviously made him uncomfortable by looking at him, if
the blush was any indication. It had only been yesterday that Zoro
assured Sanji that he had nothing to worry about from him. Zoro hoped
he hadn’t blown his cover. Did he suspect anything? What
was the harm in telling Zoro how he felt, he wondered. Zoro could
simply turn him down, and that would be that, wouldn’t it?
Afterall, wasn’t Sanji a man of action? Hadn’t he always been
forward with women? Why should it be any different with
men? /Because this is Zoro./ Sanji already knew
from last night the other man wasn’t interested, but he burned to
hear it from Zoro himself that he was a fool for feeling this way and
that they were nothing but friends and would never be anything more.
He’d only been in love one day- well, he’d only realized it for
one day. It had been much longer than that. He had always been
attracted to the other man, even when he thought he was competing
with him for Nami. That must have been why he couldn’t deal with
the man. He had always been able to deal with other men he thought
were competition, easily. Zoro had always been different. “Zoro…”
Sanji said, his heart all the way in his throat. “Hm?”
Zoro said, trying to pretend he wasn’t nervous. “I…”
He lost his courage, so he decided to steer the conversation in a
similar direction. “I hope you don’t mind me asking but… have
you had… lovers? Men, I mean? Why aren’t you with
Francois?” Zoro hadn’t been expecting that. What was the
chef trying to say? “Look, Sanji, I’m sorry if I made you
uncomfortable, it certainly was not my intention. I told you last
night-“ Sanji sat up too. “What are you talking about? You
didn’t make me uncomfortable, I was just curious… Should I not
ask?” “No, I don’t mind. If that’s all you really want
to know…” Sanji nodded. “Well…” Zoro thought
about it for a moment. “I’ve never had a serious lover. It’s
different between men, or at least men that I had previously
associated with. Before I became noble it was really more physical
needs than… falling in love, or however you view it. But I also
think that has a lot to do with your position in the world. The poor
can’t afford to marry for love most of the time, unless you are so
poor it just doesn’t matter. The men I knew were just as rough as I
am, so you can imagine there wasn’t much in the way of romance. The
rich have more privileges in that respect. So I think that if I ever
find someone at this current position in life the experience will be
different. I would be able to truly call them my lover, rather than
someone with whom I am physical. Does that make sense?” Sanji
was fascinated. He had never thought about love in terms of rich or
poor before, and how it could possibly be different for different
classes. Everyone should be able to love equally, he thought, but
circumstances probably hardly ever allowed it. Sanji was slightly
awed by all that Zoro thought about in a daily basis, and all that he
thought about. There was probably a lot more soulful thought in Zoro
than in himself, even though they had both been peasants once. Maybe
it was just different for a warrior. “You seem to be a lot
more aware of the world than me. I feel like I have no experience in
anything I thought I’d previously had compared to you.” The blond
man said sheepishly. Zoro frowned. “I don’t think there is
anything more important to a warrior than a good meal. Its sounds pig
headed, but I’m not sure how well I could ever go back to commoner
food after living off yours for this long… You provide others with
sustenance. A warm meal can be so much more to someone than just food
too. Don’t degrade yourself like that. At least not in front of
me.” Sanji blushed again. Zoro dismayed. He was
really overstepping it. He was hurriedly thinking of something to
change the subject when Sanji brought up the subject of
Francois. “So you never told me why you aren’t with
him.” “Probably for the same reasons you don’t think
we’d make a good pair.” “That doesn’t answer my
question.” Sanji said with surprising intensity. Zoro raised his
eyebrow. “I don’t love him. Does that answer your
question?” Sanji stared hard at the ground. Why had he
needed to hear that so badly? Zoro lay back down with one arm
over his eyes to block out the rays of sunshine now coming through.
The mist had cleared up and temperature was rising. It was going to
be a muggy day. It was also turning out to be one of those overly
emotional days he was coming to hate. And it hard started out so
well… Sanji couldn’t believe it, but why should he stop
himself now? He was already leaning over the other man, halfway
there. There was nothing but fear telling him to turn back, and no
one could ever accuse Sanji du Cuire of cowardice. Caution, maybe,
but today that was going to be thrown to the wind. He had to know
what it was that could be… It took a moment for Zoro to
comprehend why Sanji was leaning over him, lips pressed firmly to
his, or understand why Sanji’s trembling could be felt through the
very atmosphere. His eyes opened slowly in confusion. Finally he
understood the physical act occurring, he still didn’t understand
why Sanji was doing it. Sanji ended it quickly. Zoro had not
moved a muscle. All he could do was stare up at Sanji, his golden
blonde hair surrounding his face. “What was that for?” He
said stupidly.
A/N: It was brought up, despite the fact that again, this is an AU story, that there are yet more historical inaccuracies. However this one I felt was noteworthy. Terms like "gay" and "homo/heterosexual" weren't in existence back then. But seeing as though this isn't written in French, and I certainly don't know the French word for being a man and preferring men as sexual partners in the 16th century, you'll just have to deal with it. It's just easier on me to use terms like, "gay" or "homosexual". My apologies. I do thank the person who brought that up for their research though.
