He was expecting it to be cold, but not like this, liquid ice against his skin. He had swum in freezing water before, but with the warmer air he was less prepared for that cold and it hit like a hammer, blasting the air from his lungs. How the hell had Sanji even--
Zoro forced open his eyes as he swam, peered through the blurry waves until he saw that pale shape, hanging lifeless in the water. Dragged under the swift flow, he wasn't moving, but for the currents stirring the shock of blond hair.
Distances were misleading in the fading light, and the current was strong; his lungs were burning when he finally got close enough to wrap his numb fingers around Sanji's wrist. He pulled his crewmate in, hooked one arm around his limp body and kicked them both to the surface.
Panting for breath, fighting to keep not only his head above the surface, it only half registered that there were other hands pulling him toward the shore along with his own strokes, helping him drag Sanji up out of the water. Then they were on the rim around the pool, sharp gravel digging into Zoro's knees and Sanji slumped across them, tangle of wet hair over his face and his lips blue in the fading light. He wasn't breathing.
"Dammit," Zoro gasped, having to cough water from his lungs to speak, "Don't you dare--" He seized the blond's shoulders--his skin was as bitter cold as the river--and gave him a hard shake. "You stupid cook, if I gotta give you mouth to mouth I am never, ever gonna forgive you--"
The murmuring of the priests around him was a wash of noise no more articulate than the waterfall's thunder, just more wind through the rocks and trees. Sanji's eyes were closed, the icy water beading on his lashes and running in rivulets down his pallid cheeks.
Wrapped around his arm was a swirl of translucent white, filmier than the bandages, soaked silk clinging to his skin and the stone beneath him. The silver beads glittered like ice along the banner's trim. His fist was locked around it, fingers frozen closed over the cloth, stiff as a corpse's.
"You got it," Zoro panted, his throat aching from the choking water. The breath of the goddess, the little priestess had said--but Sanji wasn't moving, no breath in his lungs, even if he had claimed the goddess's. Damn bitch, rescinding her word, but no way were they about to lose to her cheating game. "Wake up, Sanji, you're out of the water, it's almost over..." The water dripped from his hair into his eyes; must be something in it, or maybe just the cold, because they stung, and he had to wipe them to see.
The last day's when death becomes real...By the end of the ceremony, it's too much... He couldn't find a pulse, wasn't sure he was checking the right place, and his fingers were still numb from the water. He wasn't a doctor anyway, needed Chopper here, or Nami, at least, who knew something about this kind of thing--he hadn't been in the water that long, but Zoro didn't know what had been in that cup of the high priest. The blond head lolled back and forth limply as Zoro shook him. "Don't make me--damn it, Sanji, please, all you gotta do is breathe--"
And Sanji shuddered, coughed up a spurt of water and gasped a desperate breath, deep as a newborn's first.
One of the priests crouched beside them, pushing something at him--a blanket, and Zoro tore it from the man's hands, folded it around Sanji. He struggled weakly against it, like he was still trying to swim; Zoro held him still, chafed his arms through the wool to get some heat back into him. "Easy, easy, it's okay, you're out." Another blanket was draped over his own shoulders, its heavy warmth smothering; he hadn't noticed how biting the wind was against his damp skin.
The rattle of gravel heralded the high priest's descent in an undignified slide down the steep slope, the silver cup still in his hand. Zoro jerked up his head at his approach, glared and hunched to block his crewmate from those gray eyes. "Ceremony?" he snarled. "How the fuck is this a ceremony?!"
With one hand he yanked the banner from Sanji's convulsive grasp, ripping the silk and scattering beads, balled it up and threw the sodden mess to the high priest's feet. "There. He did it, he got it. That's what he had to do, right? Now give over the antidote for that damn poison."
"There was no poison," the high priest said, shaking his head.
"Don't do this, you bastard." He had left his swords in the brush when he had dove, but he wouldn't need them now anyway. Even the high priest took a step back when Zoro carefully laid Sanji down on the ground, bundling both blankets under him, and stood, his hands curling into fists. "This is over. Whatever you gave him to drink in that cup, you're going to fix it, before--"
"It is over," the high priest said. "It's already ended. The goddess has decided." He tossed Zoro the silver cup.
Zoro caught it, glanced at it, then looked again more closely. Squinted down through it at the rocky ground--there was no bottom, not a true cup at all, just a metal tube, polished and etched with symbols. Nothing could have been drunk from that hollow cylinder.
He looked back at the high priest. "But if it's like this, then what the hell did he--"
"The goddess took his breath; she claimed the sinner's life, and then the man had the strength to claim new life from her."
"But if it wasn't anything--he didn't need to take that dive, damn you, he wasn't actually--"
"No." The priest shook his head again. "If he had not claimed her breath, he'd have died in body as well as spirit--that there was no poison doesn't mean there was no danger. Once a man entirely believes he is dying, he will die. It was close...for a moment I feared he wouldn't have the courage. But he sought life in her water. The sinner is dead, but the man breathes now." The high priest smiled, white teeth shining in his dark beard, a startling sight. "He lives!"
Whatever Zoro might have said was interrupted by Sanji's cough as he tried to push himself up. Zoro threw the cup in the priest's general direction, not caring if it smashed into the man's nose or splashed into the pool, dropped to a crouch next to his crewmate and helped him sit up. Sanji's eyes were open but unfocused, roving from the sky to the trees to the waterfall before settling on Zoro's face. "Z-zoro--" His teeth were chattering--Zoro could feel him shivering under the blanket, but that was a damn sight better than not moving at all.
"Yeah," Zoro said, "it's okay, you're okay. It's over." He glanced over the blond head to the high priest, who had managed to catch the cup, was holding it in both hands as he nodded affirmation. "It's all over."
"The p-priestess--"
"She's--fine." She still stood on the outcropping over the pool, facing the waterfall with her arms spread, her long sleeves waving in the wind. In the twilight the glitter of the silver trim was dulled, but the blue of her robes was as richly dark as the deep ocean, and the white cap on her head glimmered like snow through the gray mist. "You did it, it's over. We can go now."
"Go?" Sanji closed his eyes, sagging back into the supporting circle of Zoro's arms. "Go where?"
"Back to the ship, of course, idiot," Zoro said. "We'll be on the Going Merry with everyone before you know it, we'll never have to see this damn island again--"
"With everyone..." The tearing sound in Sanji's throat was too excruciating to be a chuckle. "They won't be there...told you...they're all..."
"They're all fine, Sanji--like I said, they're waiting for us. What you saw, it wasn't real, dammit, you know it wasn't real! Why the hell did you jump in that pond, if you really think that happened, why didn't you just--"
"Because," Sanji murmured, "because...you...I couldn't..." And then he slumped, deadweight when Zoro caught him, but breathing, slow and steady, fallen somewhere between unconsciousness and ordinary, exhausted sleep.
When Zoro felt the touch on his shoulder, he somehow wasn't surprised to look up and see the blonde acolyte, though he hadn't noticed her here before. But the hand was too light to be the high priest's, and the rest of them were keeping a careful distance. She held his swords, crooked under her arm.
"Best get off the mountain, before he catches a chill," she said quietly, extending the blades to him.
That was the least of his problems. Though it was getting cold, with the sun set. "Yeah," Zoro said, and his voice was hoarse enough that his throat hurt. He took the swords, then gathered Sanji up in his arms--no use trying to wake him; he was out so far he wasn't even snoring, and it wasn't like he was that heavy--and pushed to his feet. "What's the fastest path down?"
The little priestess was descending from the stone outcropping; her father had gone to assist her. She might have been looking in their direction, and he was glad enough for the cover of the falling darkness. Before he could start walking, the blonde acolyte touched his arm again. "This way," she said.
"We're not going back to that damn temple," he told her.
"You want to return to your ship, right?" she asked. "This will be the quickest way." She lead him down the stone ridge, along the river bank, picking the most level path through the rocky gorge with the ease of experience. Zoro kept up with her as well as he could, eying the dark ground over the burden of his crewmate and ignoring the sounds of anyone following.
A little before the dam where the river split into the tunnel, there were several animals tied to trees, black-coated creatures as tall as horses but with cleft hooves and curling horns. They had ridden up, he recalled the girl saying. A couple pairs of the beasts were harnessed to carts with rimless wheels of long spokes, the better to ride over the rocky terrain. The acolyte gestured Zoro into one of the carts, then untied the goats, gathered up the reins and climbed on in front, glancing back to ask, "Are you all right?"
Zoro made sure Sanji was settled in the chariot, tucked the blankets around him and leaned against the back. "Yeah. Go."
She nodded, clucked something to the beasts and clapped the reins. They broke into a fast trot, plunging down the slope, the cart rattling behind them.
After the initial jouncing start it wasn't as rough a ride as he would have expected; the wagon was wired with springs, and the beasts had a steady gait even over the rough ground. He glanced back once, saw various priests' robes between the trees, hard to make out in the dusk but it didn't seem like any of them were pursuing. Yet it was still difficult to shake the impression that they were escaping, fleeing down the mountainside from that goddess's damn test. It wasn't a feeling that sat well in his stomach, but he couldn't tell if it was the possible cowardice or simply rage which twisted his gut.
Sanji didn't stir, even when the cart skipped over a rock and launched into the air, landing with a tooth-jarring crash. His head was cushioned in Zoro's lap, and Zoro put an arm across his chest to keep him from flying from the cart. No more life than a rag doll in that limp body, jostled with every bump; even his shivers had stopped. But he was warm, wrapped in the blanket, and he was breathing. Zoro could feel the slight rise and fall of his chest.
They reached a road and the ride became smoother, but he kept holding on. That rhythm was steady but too shallow, too quiet to only listen for. Despite the fall of darkness their pace didn't slacken; looking ahead he could see lights farther down, the gleams of the city's lanterns twinkling between trees.
Over the ruckus of the wheels on the gravel he heard a voice, a low mumble which he only barely recognized as his own, saying something idiotic like it was going to be all right and they were almost there and other inane things, all the more pointless because it wasn't like anyone was listening. He wasn't even himself, and the acolyte didn't turn away from the reins, encouraging the beasts in their headlong dash.
The sloping road leveled, and then they were passing under the torches that marked the open city gate. To their left past the houses, the tall shapes of the towers stood against the greater blackness of the mountains; to their right was the sea, cold breeze with its thick salt scent rolling off the lapping dark waves. Sails shone in the moonlight, and the goats' hooves clattered on the wooden planks of the docks, over the sound of waves and the hustle of the docks, just closing down for the night.
They stopped short with a jerk that almost threw them from the cart. "There," the acolyte said.
He looked, and saw, farther down the pier, sticking out from behind a small sailboat, the sheep figurehead, and flapping above the sails, their Jolly Roger. "How'd you know--"
In the moonlight he heard the smile in her soft alto more than saw it. "There's only one pirate ship in the harbor."
Of course. He looked closer--the cabin was hidden by the sailboat, but there was no lamp lit in the crow's nest, and he recognized none of the voices calling over the water. The Going Merry was lifeless, and for a single moment icy fingers clenched around his heart--if it had been real--
His arm tightened around Sanji, who didn't move, his face colorless in the dusk. But still breathing. Just the goddess's delusion. Maybe none of them had gotten back yet, or they were out looking, or...
Then he saw motion, ducked to see under the boat's sail and made out a long-nosed silhouette leaning on the railing of the Going Merry's prow.
His relieved exhalation was so long and deep he saw stars. Inhaling again, he called, in what emerged as only a stuttered, "Hey." Clearing his throat, he tried once more, raising his voice to be heard over the water. "Hey, Usopp!"
The silhouette jumped up, peered around. "Zoro? That you?"
It had only been three days; he shouldn't be so ridiculously pleased to hear that familiar shout. "Over here," he called back, climbing out of the cart and picking up Sanji, blankets and all. "On the dock." The cook barely roused, his breath catching but his eyes remaining closed, even when Zoro muttered his name.
"Just a sec!" He heard Usopp's boots thud as he jumped down to the main deck, disappearing out of sight.
"You'll be all right, then?"
Zoro looked back at the blonde acolyte, who remained on the cart, reins tight in hand, though the beasts were standing docilely enough. "Yeah." He took a couple steps, turned back again. "Er," he said. "For the ride. And the other stuff. Thank you, uh..."
"Inste," she told him. "My name's Inste."
"Roronoa Zoro."
"You're welcome, Roronoa Zoro." For a moment longer she studied him, then turned away, and with a flick of the reins the cart clattered off into the night.
Zoro walked the short distance down the pier, past the sailboat to the Going Merry. The gangplank had been lowered, and Usopp was waiting on the deck, arms crossed admonishingly. "It's about time! We were gonna leave without you--" He stopped, grin failing as he stared at Zoro carrying Sanji's limp form onto the ship.
Zoro ignored that gawking. The breeze off the sea was cold and Sanji was shivering again, a little. "Get Chopper," he ordered, then amended, "Get everyone, they all have be here."
"Everyone?" Usopp gulped, freezing in his tracks. "Is it--that bad...?"
Zoro glanced at him. Usopp's eyes were locked on Sanji's motionless figure, his tanned face gone a little grey. "No," Zoro shook his head, "Sorry, it's okay. He's not that hurt. He just needs--just get everybody, got it?"
Usopp blinked, then nodded and took off, hollering everyone's names.
Ten minutes later they were all in the main cabin, Sanji laying on a makeshift bed and all his crewmates around it. Zoro pulled up a chair, planted himself on it and watched as Chopper examined the cook, poking and prodding and checking his pulse, murmuring under his breath.
Usopp, pacing at the foot of the cot, endured this for a few moments before bursting out, "So? What's the matter with him? Is he gonna be okay?"
Nami, seated on the side of the bed opposite the doctor, raised her gaze from Sanji to look over at Zoro. "What happened to him?" she asked, a good deal calmer than Usopp but even more insistent.
"He seems to be suffering from mild hypothermia, dehydration, and malnutrition," Chopper said.
"Yeah, that's about right," Zoro agreed. "Though he almost drowned a little while ago, so he got some water then." Nami wasn't the only one looking at him now; even Robin glanced over from the bench where she had seated herself, eyebrows raised under her black bangs. Only Luffy didn't look up, sitting cross-legged at the head of the bed and staring down at his cook's white face, his own expression just as still.
"What about the bandages?" Nami inquired quietly, fingering the cotton strips around his shoulder.
"He got hurt," Zoro said. "Is he going to wake up soon, Chopper?"
"He--that--" Chopper turned back to his patient, and his stutter resolved into determination. "He should. Usopp, Nami, get some of that sweet cider we bought and heat it up, and a bowl of rice, too--"
"I'll do it." Zoro stood up and started for the kitchen behind them. "You guys stay here, if he's going to be waking up."
Usopp looked at Nami and Robin, nodded and headed for the door. "Yeah, he'd like waking up to them. I'll get the cider--"
"'You stay, too," Zoro told him, giving him a shove back toward the bed. "The cider's in that little barrel outside?"
"Yeah." Usopp blinked at him. "Why do I--"
Zoro ignored him, went out and brought in the barrel, then poked around the kitchen for a pot. A slender arm opened one of the cabinet doors and handed a saucepan to him. He glanced back; Robin nodded at him from the bench, said, "I'll take care of the rice."
So he poured cider into the pan, put it over a low flame and returned to the others, where Chopper was completing his examination. "He's been worse off," the little doctor pronounced, though his expression acknowledged that this wasn't saying much.
"So he's gonna be okay, then, right?" Usopp demanded.
"Zoro."
It was rare to hear Luffy's voice that quiet, that calm. Usopp went mute, and Zoro saw Nami's mouth snap shut before she said anything. All eyes went to their captain, who met none of them, his gaze not moving from Sanji's face. "Who did this, Zoro?" Luffy asked. No need for him to ask what, or why; everything that counted for him he could see for himself in Sanji's motionless countenance. And whatever he saw there was enough to make him angry, that dangerous gravity they all well knew.
Zoro sighed. He was unaccountably exhausted, as if he had been fighting battle after battle for the past few days, rather than just sitting around and exercising a little. "It doesn't matter," he said. "It's done. It won't happen again."
He put his hand on Luffy's shoulder. "Luffy." His captain didn't look up, face shaded by the straw hat, but by the slight incline of his head Zoro knew he was listening. "Don't be mad at Sanji, okay? When he wakes up. You can't get mad at him."
Now Luffy's head did raise, dark eyes puzzled. "Why'd I be mad at Sanji?"
"Don't yell at him or anything. He might think...just don't."
"Zoro...?" Nami and Usopp were giving him vastly suspicious looks, like he might be a shapechanger in disguise, and Chopper's fuzzy brow furrowed in puzzlement.
But Luffy only nodded, most of that seriousness dropping away like it had never been, leaving just that bright, blank grin. "Okay." He poked their doctor's hat. "Hey, when's he gonna wake up?"
Chopper twitched. "I don't know. Right now it looks like he's just asleep, but..."
"I'm sure he'll be fine, with you taking care of him," Nami said, giving the doctor a smile. The reindeer shivered once all over and rudely protested the compliment, even as he beamed.
"Sanji. Oi, Sanji," Luffy slapped his cheek, not too hard, but enough to raise color in the pale skin. "Wake up now."
"Luffy--"
Sanji groaned, flinched away. "Cut tha'out," he mumbled, batting ineffectively at the assaulting hand as if it were a fly. "Tryin' to sleep, Luffy--" and then his eyes flew open. He blinked rapidly a few times before focusing on his captain's face, a foot above his as Luffy leaned over to scrutinize him, his stilled hand resting against Sanji's cheek.
"Luffy?" Sanji whispered, so hoarse it was only a breath.
Luffy frowned. "Yeah. Where were you? You and Zoro were late."
Sanji blinked up at him dumbly, finally breathed, "--sorry--" He swallowed, forced a wheeze of voice into it, "I'm sorry--"
"S'okay," Luffy said.
"But you--where's--" He struggled up out of the blankets, only to have Chopper sit on his chest to keep him down.
"No," the doctor said, "I've got to check you out now you're awake. Are you hurt anywhere?"
"Just relax, Sanji-kun, and let Chopper take care of you," Nami said.
"Ch-chopper? Nami-san?" Sanji sat up so fast Chopper almost tumbled off, was caught by Usopp before he did. "Usopp?" The cook stared at both of them, then twisted around, murmuring, "Robin-chan--"
"Right here," Robin assured, raising one hand.
"Sanji-kun, what--" Nami began, putting her hand on his, fisted over the blanket. But at her touch he started, almost flinched, and Zoro watched her draw back in confusion.
At least they weren't gaping at him anymore. Though the dubious looks they were giving the cook were almost as difficult to ignore, even if Sanji seemed largely oblivious to them. Zoro went back over to the stove, took the pot off as the cider started to simmer and poured half into a mug, which he brought back and shoved at the cook. "Here. Drink. It's about damn time you did."
"Zoro?" Didn't make sense for Sanji to be giving him that look, too; he had never had any reason to think something had happened to Zoro. But the disbelief in that pale face was almost enough to make you question the reality of the wood under your feet. "Zoro, this..."
Zoro pushed the mug at him again. "Come on, aren't you thirsty, already?"
Sanji glanced down at the mug, uncomprehendingly, and then his hand shot out--but not to take the cider; instead his fingers wrapped around Zoro's wrist, gripping so tight they dug into his tendons, while his eyes searched Zoro's face. "You're here," he muttered, to himself, it seemed, "if you're here...this..."
"It's over, Sanji," Zoro said. "All seven, they're done. We're back on the ship now, and everyone's here." Sanji's gaze broke with his to flicker over their crewmates' faces, turning his head back to make sure Luffy and Robin were still there behind them. Zoro didn't blame him; he was beginning to wonder himself, the way they all seemed struck mute. Quiet wasn't a concept he typically associated with any of his crewmates, save Robin.
Then Sanji looked back to him, said, almost perplexed, "They're all...we're here. We're all here."
It wasn't quite a question, but Luffy answered it, his tone weirdly subdued, still cheerful but unnaturally calm. "Yeah. Everybody."
"What'd I tell you, stupid cook. This is real. Not any of that other stuff." Zoro carefully removed the grip from his wrist, folded Sanji's fingers around the mug instead. "Now drink the damn juice. Chopper, tell him it's good for him."
"It's good for you," Chopper said obediently, then recovered himself to admonish, "but don't drink it too fast, even if you're thirsty, try to sip it."
Sanji nodded, barely, raised the mug and took a small sip, then a longer one. "It's...good," he said, even sounding a little less hoarse. He took another swallow, almost a gulp. "But..." His gaze crossed over all of them again, studying each of their faces in turn, drinking them in with a thirst as great as the one audible in his parched throat.
"...But?" Usopp asked finally, tentatively.
"Sanji-kun?" Nami said. Zoro would have thought she at least would be used to the cook's stares, but evidently she could tell this wasn't the same. But it was the concern in her voice that did it; nothing else would have made Sanji sit up that straight, a faint glimmer of the love cook's customary gleam lighting in his eyes.
He sipped again, shut his eyes to swallow and opened them again. "It's...good juice, but it could really use some nutmeg. A few cloves, touch of brown sugar. And cinnamon, you even left out the cinnamon. Nami-san, please don't deign to taste it, I'll make you and Robin-chan real cider."
"That sounds great!" Luffy cried. "Make some for me, too!"
He punched Sanji on the arm, not as hard as he might have, but enough to jostle the mug. Usopp reached out to catch it before hot cider could slosh over Sanji or him; Sanji thanked him with a nod, took another draught and said "I'll make some for everyone. Show you how to do it right, swordsman."
"You're the cook. Why would I need to know, as long as you're here?"
Finishing the last of the cider, Sanji eyed him over the rim of the mug. Something in his eyes looked serious, but when he lowered the cup he was grinning a little, the old derisive smirk. "It'd probably be too complicated for you anyway. Four ingredients is one number higher than you can count, right?"
"You're the one who almost didn't make it to sev--" Zoro began, and stopped, unsure. Sanji might be sitting up, but his face was about two shades away from the color of paper, and though both his hands were wrapped around the empty mug they still trembled slightly.
"Here. If you're hungry," Robin said, stepping between them to smoothly take the mug from Sanji and replace it with a bowl of white rice.
"Thank you, Robin-chan!" Sanji said, smirk dissolving into a sparkling smile. "It's delicious!"
"You haven't even tasted it yet," Nami reminded him, but her own smile was only slightly teasing.
"I want some, too!" Luffy declared, and Robin obliged him, despite Usopp's protest that they had eaten dinner only an hour before. She brought Zoro a bowl as well, with pickled onions; he nearly refused, then realized he wasn't sure when he had last eaten himself. He vaguely recalled grabbing something in the temples kitchens, but had that been this morning, or last night... The rice was good, anyway, and after he finished sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall, and looked over the cabin.
Sanji had dozed off, curled up in the blankets, softly snoring. Seated by his cot, Nami and Robin were murmuring in conversation, their heads together, too low to be heard over Usopp and Luffy's argument about--food, he guessed; the suddenly empty rice pot might have something to do with that. Chopper tried to hush them, gesticulating meaningfully at Sanji, before giving up etiquette and growing big enough to bang both their heads to the floor. None of it disturbed the cook, sunk into a sounder and more restful sleep than he'd had in three days
Zoro dropped his chin to his chest, shut his eyes. Bare hardwood floor under him, unlike the cushioned bench in the temple, and the soothing sounds of the wind and waves outside were almost entirely drowned out by his crewmates' racket.
He was asleep in seconds.
to be continued...
The amazing Inuneko did amazing fan art - gorgeously moody tortured Sanji-ness. Go, adore.
www.livejournal.com/users/inu_neko/33400.html