A/N: So, this is the result of brainstorming with Alasse-m, I want to point out. Without the volley of suggestions, the idea might've never been encouraged. :D

1: Sanji

The tavern was full of people coming in from the rain outside, and the cramped quarters made him more prickly than usual. Seventeen year old Sanji moved through the kitchen with a grumble, holding hot plates in his hands as he made his way to the tables, depositing the plates with easy action. The fire burning in the hearth made the tavern overly warm, so he was already sweaty, and Zeff still wasn't back from his trip east, so this made him antsy. Not that he openly cared for the old man, but he relied on him for the supplies and networks necessary to keep the place operational.

"Hey, busboy, what's this slop?" one of the newcomers asked, looking at his bowl. Sanji paused in mid step and looked back, much to the entertainment of those that knew what his expression meant. The man must be a hunter, new to the area, and not yet aware of Sanji's temper. "What are these weird vegetables? Where is the meat?"

"'Slop'?" Sanji repeated, dangerously low as he turned to face him. The hunter looked at him with a frown, realizing something significant was going to happen. "Did you just call my shitty food 'slop'?"

"He's new, he didn't mean anything by it," one of the hunters nearby said hastily, waving his hands about. "C'mon, Sanji, calm down."

"Hey, what's it to you?" the hunter complained, dropping his utensil with a frown. "So what? If it looks like shit, it probably taste like sh – "

Sanji grabbed the back of his head, yanking back on his hair. With a large spoonful, he shoved the mixture of vegetables into the man's mouth and held onto his nose. The man struggled for a few moments, then swallowed hard. Sanji shoved in another spoonful, and another, until the hunter signaled that he could feed himself. Releasing him, Sanji stood over him with a glare, arms crossed, the man finishing the rest of it under pressure. Once he was through, wiping his bearded face with a napkin, Sanji then jerked him out of his seat and kicked him through the doors, right into the pounding rain. Everyone around him shifted uncomfortably, eating their food without saying anything.

"If you have shit to say about the shit I serve, you'll say it right now, to my fucking face!" he then shouted out, looking at every one of them. "If not, eat every bite, because once you leave here, you don't know when your next meal will be. For those intending on climbing those goddamn walls on Flower Hill, you're guaranteed to shit your pants leaving that place! This mixture is intended on full fiber shit, and not the kind of shit that will leave your pants wet until you come back here!"

Seeing that everyone was more appreciative of his stew, Sanji then gathered the abandoned dishware and utensils and stalked back into the kitchen.

"What a shrew," someone muttered under his breath.

"What's your problem?" the cook asked impatiently as Sanji dumped the items into the sink.

"These assholes don't appreciate what they're being given," Sanji muttered, looking over the next lineup of plates that were awaiting distribution. "Has anyone heard from that shitty old man, yet?"

"You asked that a few minutes ago, and, no, we haven't!"

"You think he died on his way back? Because that's the only reason I can think of for him not returning on time!"

"So dramatic!"

"Well, if he's not here within the next hour, I'll go set out to look for that shitty bastard," Sanji muttered, looking out the nearby window with a frown. The rain was coming down hard, and while it spelled good news for the fields in the area, it was treacherous for those on various footpaths in the valley. There was the danger of washouts, mudslides and horses tripping in the mud. Zeff was only supposed to be gone for a few hours, and it was taking most of the day – so Sanji was on edge.

"Look, if it makes you happy, we'll send out a couple of guys," the cook said, heaving a sigh. "My son has a good horse. I can send him."

"Good, I'm glad you suggested it. I figure I'd catch cold with my delicate system, an' all."

"Brat," the cook muttered as Sanji rounded up more full plates and set out to meet and greet the newest travelers coming in.

Since news of the vines easing their hold on the stonewalls of the Donquixote castle on Flower Hill, hunters from all over were eager to scale them and find the beast that was rumored to be living inside. The town had been peppered with men from all over, wanting a chance to obtain that prize. He thought it was stupid, hunting a mythical creature that parents only used to scare their children with – Zeff had used it on him a few times, but he'd grown smart to it, challenging the old man into proving the thing's existence.

While he definitely believed in the enchanted forest that carried mysterious voices, having been there a few times himself, he didn't believe in the aptly named "Beast". He had heard the roaring and screaming coming from the castle, as all townspeople had before, but he attributed to pranksters, to animals not yet hunted from the forest. There were cow sized boars in the mountains that made weird mating calls, and elk that whistled fiercely – along with many other creatures that man had yet to face, and Sanji fiercely believed that it was only those and not some cursed creature like everyone said.

He and Zeff had arrived in the small town a few years back, so they weren't present when Tsuru had made her magic known on a powerful family that once ruled over the valley. By the time they'd settled in, the legend was already set and the vines were locked up tight. It was only very recently, this present day of October, that they'd loosened and bloomed beautiful flowers that women fawned over.

And with that, the hunters arrived, so the tavern, the entire town, had been busy. Good for business, bad for his patience.

He had just finished serving the newest group when the doors slammed open, and he looked over with a cranky greeting. Then stopped in mid-call, frowning at the man that walked in.

This hunter had made himself well known to the entire town within the past three days since he'd arrived, and Sanji could not stand him. This man was smug, admittedly strong, and entirely full of himself, and he made it clear that he had his eyes on Sanji. Which pissed Sanji off, because Sanji was already promised to an older gentleman, who was a frequent visitor to the tavern. And every time this guy came around, Sanji couldn't quite focus on his intended – much to Zeff's concern, because he'd made the arrangements in the first place.

Most of the hunters newly arrived to town looked at the man with frowns, paused in mid-chew or lift. After all, Zoro Roronoa was quite infamous amongst them, being a fabled hunter – able to find his target and take the kill without trouble. His reputation was admired by many, feared by most, and he had decided to take on the hunt of the Beast for himself. But he found himself distracted by Sanji, intending on taking home two prizes from this valley town.

"Ale, and whatever you got on the stove," Zoro said to Sanji, taking his place near the hearth, some men clearing out from the table with unease. He set his swords down, his pack, and propped his boots up on the tabletop without a care in the world. Sanji glared at him, setting down the last of the plates in hand, and then marching to his table. He slapped his muddy boots from the table and leaned on it to glare at him.

The green haired man smiled smugly at him, adjusting his rain soaked cloak to the back of his chair.

"Keep your filthy boots off the table, and don't relax like you live here, green haired scum!" Sanji snapped at him.

"Heard you've been busy all day, that's why you haven't been outside, just yet," Zoro said, reaching out the snatch the tie to Sanji's shirt, unraveling the collar. Sanji stood up and snarled, tying it back to its proper knot before kicking the table hard and walking off. Zoro relaxed in his chair and waited, everyone diverting their attention to dinner. A busboy hurried around, gathering empty plates and used utensils, refilling drinks hastily as those that had their fill left, leaving open spaces on battered chairs and scarred tables.

When Sanji returned, he slammed the mug down in front of him, and served him the stew, Zoro looking at both with approval.

"Once this rain lets up, I had planned on leaving," Zoro said, picking up his fork. "But maybe it's too my advantage that I take this storm on, too."

"Hopefully you slip and die on your way up, asswad," Sanji said, checking the busboy's progress.

"Probably not. I wouldn't go down like that," Zoro said, tasting the stew. He approved of it. "More than likely, I'll be felled by a stronger opponent than some rain and mud. Probably by your fiancé. Which would make it okay, considering how strong of an opponent he'd be."

He looked Sanji over – it was a damn shame how the owner of the tavern had already promised this fine specimen of a man to another of his own age. Zoro had been disappointed, but he was a patient guy. He figured with Rayleigh Silvers' age, the man would pass away sooner rather than later, and Zoro could swoop in on the prize before the body cooled.

Sanji didn't even flinch at that comment, having long accepted the union once Zeff presented it. However the two older men knew each other was their business, but the only apprehension he felt in the future action was that he'd be sharing a bed with a man Zeff's age. Which made him uncomfortable because he'd met the man when he was barely eight years old, and grew up knowing him, so it felt like he was promised to marry a family member. But Rayleigh offered and Zeff accepted it, so it wasn't as if he had a choice in the matter, anyway. He was only property, after all.

That was his life after being orphaned at an early age. Zeff needed a busboy and he found one in Sanji. Not quite a slave, but not regarded as family, either. From town to town they traveled with their culinary talents in various restaurants or taverns, and it appeared that Zeff was slowing with age, and had decided to settle here where his old friend resided. Rayleigh was nice enough, patient and kind, but Sanji thought of him as an uncle, and not anything more. He wasn't looking forward to the union, but he didn't have a choice. Whatever Zeff willed was Sanji's command.

With a roll of his eyes, Sanji said, "With this rain, I hope you get 'felled' by a cold, you smug faced bastard."

"Y'know, you could show a little appreciation towards me, because one day, you'll be looking at this 'smug face' every damn day," Zoro said, lowering his fork. "This is good, by the way, but I could use a spoon."

Sanji snarled and left him, signaling for the busboy to join him in the kitchen. Ussop hurried his way, carrying a half barrel of dishes he'd gathered from the tables. "Do you need help with dishes?" Sanji asked him, spying the sink and seeing that Ussop had already cleaned most of them.

"Nah, I'm good! You doing okay out there, buddy?" Ussop asked. "Zoro's starting in quick, isn't he?"

"I wish he'd just die already. He's so annoying."

"Maybe you'll get your wish," Ussop said cheerfully, piling dishes into the sink. Sanji started putting the others away, where the cook could reach them. "With this rain, the grounds around the castle will be fierce! I heard there was a rock slide to the east of the fence line, where most of them usually enter."

"Not by the main road, right? Because Zeff should've been here, by now," Sanji said with concern.

"All around the stone wall, the wildflowers stopped growing," Ussop said, demonstrating with his arms. "The main road is under the east section of the hill, and there could be mudslides, there. But I thought Zeff took the footpath, and not the main path. That's located a little further down from the main road."

"It was only supposed to take a few hours," Sanji commented, pressing his lips together afterward. When the back door opened, the three of them looked over with expectation of seeing the older man, but it was only Rayleigh in a heavy cloak. Ussop hurried back to the sink and the cook looked back down at the stew he'd been stirring, Sanji anxiously fiddling with the hem of his shirt as he looked up at the older man.

"Is Zeff still gone?" Rayleigh asked, shaking out his hood near the doorway, atop of the straw mat.

"He hasn't returned, sir. Cook here said he could send his son to go look for him," Sanji said, gesturing at the man. "I think we should do that – it's only going to get colder, and he wasn't dressed for nighttime travel."

Rayleigh considered it for a bit, walking forward. As a tall man, he took up most of the kitchen space, and his presence made everyone uncomfortable – Sanji didn't know why, but many people in town hurried the other way when he was around. Rayleigh patted the top of Sanji's head on the way to the door looking out on the main floor, seeing all the people gathered out there. "It's a full house, tonight."

"Ever since the first batch this afternoon – it's constant."

"I see Roronoa's out there," Rayleigh muttered with a slight frown.

"They're holding back, waiting on the rain to die down before heading out," Sanji said. "Sir, should he go? Cook's son?"

"Are you worried about Zeff?" Rayleigh asked him with some amusement, looking back at him.

Sanji bit the side of his mouth with some thought before saying, "I should. He's the owner of this place. Without him, what are we going to do?"

"Zeff is fine, I'm sure," Rayleigh said, reaching out to touch his shoulders. "You're overthinking his absence. But in one hour, I will round up a group and we will set out to find him."

"I can close up early, go with you, sir."

"Zeff would want you here, feeding all these people. You can do that, and I'll go out. It's no problem. We'll take cook's son, if that's okay with him."

"It's okay," the cook said, nodding. "I offered. He's aware of it, he can be ready to ride out at moment's notice."

"See? No need to worry, we've got this figured out," Rayleigh said to Sanji, kissing the top of his head.

Ussop, at the sink, cringed only slightly. He couldn't understand how Sanji could let himself be promised to an old man like Rayleigh, who was older than anyone Ussop knew, other than Garp or Zeff. He couldn't help but wrinkle his nose, unable to imagine being in Sanji's place.

Sanji nodded, only vaguely reassured by the older man's words. "All right. Sir, I just think something should be done now, rather than later, before it gets too dark. These fools out here are still scared of the woods. If there's voices, they're going to wimp out."

"Not my crew. We'll be fine. Is there anymore stew left?" Rayleigh asked, looking over the bowls that the cook was preparing. Sanji nodded, indicating that he sit at the small table nearby, and he hastily gathered up a bowl and utensils, and poured the man some coffee as Rayleigh settled in a chair.

"Ussop, out," Sanji said, Ussop drying his hands quickly and followed him out as Sanji walked out onto the main floor to see if anybody needed anything. At the arrival of two more people, he picked up plates, took orders for seconds and replenishment of mugs, and made Zoro his last priority.

"Took you long enough to come back," Zoro said, signaling an empty mug. "What were you doing back there, avoiding me?"

"You know me well," Sanji commented, snatching his mug away from him, balancing it atop of the empty bowls atop of his head. "You want more food?"

"No, I'm good. Just more ale. Tell me, you know what happens with guys that age?" Zoro asked curiously. "You think the carpet matches the drapes? You think you can handle that sort of thing?"

Sanji glared at him. "That's none of your business."

"Why are you even agreeing to that?" Zoro asked with a disgusted look, leaning back in his chair. "There is a fifty-nine year age difference between you two. He's got both feet in the grave, already. I guess I shouldn't complain – old men like that aren't capable of performing feats like guys our age. I shouldn't be too worried."

"You're disgusting."

"No, he is. Hurry up with that ale. The rain looks like it might let up, soon, and then I'm out of here."

Fuming at being ordered around by someone like him, Sanji hesitated on his request. Since he only wanted ale and not food, he deliberately took his time attending to other people before following Ussop into the kitchen. Both of them carefully stacked their plates on the counter, Ussop washing quickly, Sanji putting away more of the dried dishes, and refilling mugs for those that had requested it.

Once he was back out there, he noticed that most of the hunters were leaving. The rain was letting up, but it had left the streets a muddy mess, and the air was chilly near the open windows. He tended to the fire right afterward, straightening up to wipe sweat from his forehead. He was wearing light clothing to allow him comfort in a fast paced job in a crowded space but this muggy air was definitely causing him to sweat.

Ussop cleaned off the emptied tables while some people lingered at the tables, visiting with each other. Sanji gave Zoro one more refill, the hunter looking at him with consideration before Sanji returned to the back. Rayleigh had made up his mind, and the cook was standing in the open doorway at the back, hollering across the street to his son. Lightening zigzagged through the sky at that moment, making Sanji nervous as a rumble of thunder rolled over head.

"This weather is almost similar to that night years ago, when Tsuru first arrived in town," Rayleigh commented over his coffee.

"I don't believe in that story," Sanji said, picking up his plate and utensils, putting them in the sink.

"Tales start from somewhere, from something," Rayleigh said patiently. "And with the lack of that family anywhere, one does believe she caused something in that castle. She just never said what."

"Is she still alive? Maybe she can come back and undo it, or whatever," Sanji said, washing dishes.

"They were punished for a reason. Doflamingo was overzealous, and his power too great. He was not a very nice man. What made it difficult for me was the amount of children he'd taken in when no one else would take him. They were well taken care of, I remember," Rayleigh said, lost in thought. "Nice clothes, groomed appearances – brattier than you on a good day. Spoiled rotten. Got away with everything. He let them, because they were either left behind, or lost their families, somehow."

"So, does this make him a good man, or a bad one? Surely not, considering that he liked kids."

"He was grooming them to be just like him, to join the ranks of the other family members," Rayleigh said. He looked at Sanji as he dried his hands, then pushed away from the table. "Come here. Sit down, for awhile."

"Ussop's out there by himself, I should go help him."

"He'll be fine. Now."

With a light exhale, Sanji walked over and moved to sit on the edge of the table, but Rayleigh gestured at his leg, instead. Uncomfortable but unable to disobey, Sanji sat there. His skin crawled, and his shoulders hunched, but Rayleigh slung an unusually strong arm around his waist and held him close to his chest, so he could play with his hair. Sanji felt discomfort about a nearly eighty year old man being so rigid and strong, making him feel like a small boy, again.

"Don't worry about Zeff so much. He's fine. More than likely he was side tracked, and lost track of time," Rayleigh said low. "After you close up here, go home and rest. I'm sure you've been working hard all day. Tomorrow, he'll expect the same of you."

"Right."

"And one more thing – don't give Zoro any more encouragement than you have. Each time you do, he feels he has a way in," Rayleigh advised, running a strong hand over Sanji's shoulders, before giving him a firm neck rub that loosened the tense muscles there. Sanji felt himself relax, but it was almost involuntary, like Rayleigh had loosened something in him without his permission. Sanji didn't know what it was about the man, but he couldn't disobey him or his hands, and he wasn't sure what made him more uncomfortable – that he didn't have a choice, or that there was more to be expected from this sort of attention.

"I understand."

"That's a lad. We'll set out, now," Rayleigh said, pushing him off to the side.

"Be careful out there," Sanji said.

"This is my valley, I know it well," Rayleigh assured him. "Go right to the house, after. We'll be back, soon."

"Yes, sir. Please come back, safely."

After Rayleigh left, Sanji finished with the dishes, dried and put them away. The cook had given the rest of the stew to the beggers that knew when to come by, so there were no leftovers. Most of the tavern had cleared out due to the hour, and Ussop was already cleaning tables, sweeping and mopping the floor.

Sanji noted with relief that Zoro was gone, but he'd left a considerable tip on the table. Sanji didn't want to take it, so he gave it to Ussop instead.

"I'm sure with the loosening of the vines, the hunters will get into the grounds more easier," Ussop said, ushering out the last of the stragglers, and locking the doors. "I wonder what they're going to find, in there."

"Have you ever visited the castle?" Sanji asked curiously, helping him clean.

Ussop had lived in the valley his entire life. He was a stringy guy with unruly hair, a long nose, and a penchant for outrageous stories. But he was also considerate, friendly, and seemed only eager to please. Plus, he was a great help, and he let Sanji know of all the gossip in town, so Sanji was able to interact more freely with those who came into the tavern. Zeff kept him on a tight leash – for 'his safety'.

To Sanji, it was only because he was his property, and not because Zeff was concerned about him in any way, and he'd accepted that a long time ago.

"Only once!" Ussop confessed. "With some friends! It was on a dare. If we could get through the enchanted forest and cut down a thorn, bring it back to town to show it off, then we would've got twenty gold pieces as a reward! But Luffy and I turned around halfway because that thing was screaming. It wasn't even a gentle sound, it didn't sound like an animal, Sanji. It was…almost like a voice. Not long after that, there were shouts, like men arguing with each other, and the Beast roared again! Scared us shitless, we ran home."

"So, it's true that Tsuru changed Doflamingo into a beast, then?" Sanji asked.

"I don't know for sure," Ussop said slowly. "Those that heard the Beast reported that it wasn't a voice they were familiar with. But those voices around it, they're definitely people. People you can't see, mind you. There's ghosts in that castle, and I'm honestly not 110% sure I'd ever have a reason to go in there."

Sanji wiped down some tables, propped up some chairs. As he took the broom from him, he mumbled, "I wish I could go up there. I'd love to see that sort of thing for myself."

Ussop chewed on the inside of his cheek before saying, "Let's go right now! Those guys just set out, what's the harm in going up the road to check it out?"

"We better not, Rayleigh told me to go straight home," Sanji muttered, sweeping fiercely.

"Why do you listen to that guy? It's not like you're married to him, now," Ussop said.

"I can't. I just feel…that I can't. it feels impossible," Sanji said, looking for the dustpan. "Besides, Zeff will have my head, that controlling bastard."

Ussop shrugged, knowing that his friend's relationship with the two men was an odd one. For one, Zeff was a little crazy – his way of thinking was something Ussop couldn't quite get used, to. Rumor had it that he'd suffered some sort of tragedy awhile back, and never healed right as a result of it. Therefore, his paranoia and control over Sanji bespoke a sincere fear of loss, but Sanji seemed to treat it as ownership issues over him.

When Sanji had told Ussop that he was to marry Rayleigh sometime in the future, Ussop didn't understand why Zeff would allow it. The man was nearly eighty years old, while Sanji was just over seventeen. The people in town weren't that surprised – it wasn't that uncommon for men to take on multiple partners in marriage, without rule to age and gender. As long as their partners were taken care of equally and responsibly, everyone turned a blind eye to things like that. But it struck Ussop that Sanji allowed himself to be tied down to these two old men without a bat of the eye, especially when he was so strong willed and cranky.

Sanji was too much of an 'old soul' to be someone his own age, so he found it difficult to relate to those around him. Ussop was surprised that Sanji opened up to him the way he did, but Ussop felt better knowing that Sanji relied on him in various ways. It made Ussop feel capable and trustworthy, and he was eager to please in however way he could.

"This looks good, Ussop," Sanji said, looking over the floor with approval. "You did a great job, today."

"Hey thanks! I'll walk you home," Ussop said cheerfully. "And don't worry about Zeff, okay? He's a strong guy, I'm sure he's fine."

"Yeah, you're right," Sanji said, tired of hearing that from various people. He smiled at Ussop. "I'd trust your word over everyone else's."

Because Sanji's smile was so rare, Ussop felt himself brighten, cheered he could make a difference. "Damn right you should!"