Chapter Text
He stumbled through the dark woods, seeing nothing but the black outlines of the tree trunks and barely able to hold his aching body up. The main support aside from his heavy limbs were the trees he braced himself against, without which he would have doubled over a long time ago, as he walked further along the nonexistent path.
A vast amount of blood flowing out of his chest continuously, and splashing on the mossy ground, left a trace behind him, though he couldn’t find it in him to care. It stung like hell, the freshly cut wound running deep from his collarbone all the way to his hip, hurting his every movement and obstructing his journey.
He’d won the fight against the ridiculously strong bounty hunter, but one lucky hit left him in the situation he was in now. With one foot already in his grave.
He told himself, he just had to get through the forest somehow. There’s supposed to be a Kingdom on the other side, and in it there would be people that could stitch him back together.
Even if he heard that the royal family wasn’t all that welcoming, there had to be someone who was willing to stitch him up, he was sure.
Though, the possibility of reaching said place was shrinking with every drop of blood he felt leaving his body. Every few feet he had to stop now, lean against a tree and stay put for a moment to calm his breath and attempt to relieve his trembling legs somewhat.
Some time ago, he didn’t know how long anymore, black spots started to dance around in his vision from the blood loss, which was concerning as well.
The swords at his right hip, usually comforting in their weight, began feeling heavier with every step he took and his feet refused to lift as high as he wanted them to, causing his shoes to get stuck in the roots of the surrounding trees from time to time.
But the last nail to his coffin was when suddenly, without him taking notice of their nearing, roughly 20 men erupted from the shadows of the forest. Until then he really thought it would be an easy way through the woods, but seems like he was wrong.
They surrounded him with raised weapons, swords and spears of all kinds, and some carried lanterns that seemed to consist of a glowing crystal only, making the metal of the blades shine in the bluish light. They also efficiently blinded his eyes that were so used to the dark, causing him to blink rapidly.
Had he not been wounded like he was now, those few would have been no problem at all, he would have had them on the ground dead in seconds. But as it was, it would be hella lot more challenging to get there. He wasn’t certain he’d manage it in the first place.
The men came towards him seconds later without hesitating, storming in with calculated attacks that were easy to read but hard to react to in time. He had barely any time to unsheathe his white Katana to fend them off.
Raising his arm with the weight of the sword made the wound only sting more, but his reflexes were faster than his brain or the pain and quickly another load of blood splashed on the ground as the men closest to him pressed against the blade.
Eventually, with all the strength his injured body could muster, he managed to push them back. All of them in one clean swipe. Followed by another swing with the second sword, right as he unsheathed it, in the other direction where more men were coming.
It hurt like hell but those too were pushed back rather quickly.
And to top it off, he threw a flying clash in both directions at them, causing most of the men to fall to the ground. They weren’t dead like they normally would have been, but the black armor cracked and he could see blood splashing from injuries he caused.
From behind a tree in the direction the soldiers also came from, a blue haired man stepped into the light of the crystals. Clothed in an equally blue colored uniform with yellow features and with a black cape covering his form from the back.
Obviously an officer or commander.
As he spat out a load of blood from the little combat exercise, the newcomer spoke with a thrilled tone in his voice. “How amusing. I thought this was gonna be boring, but seems like I found something interesting. Half dead and still that strong, huh. Bet father would like you in his royal ranks.”
A protest about that was on the tip of his tongue but before it could leave his mouth, the spots in his vision got bigger until eventually he passed out. The last thing he heard before the world around him went black, was the man ordering the soldiers to take him back with them.
He didn’t know for how long he was out after that and his concept of time was completely messed up when he eventually came back to the land of the living, so he could only guess how long he was out.
It didn’t matter much either when as soon as he opened his eyes and the doctors finished doing a quick checkup, two guards came barging in and bound his hands behind his back right where he was sitting on the infirmary bed.
Distinctly he remembered the men in the forest wearing the same type of armor, a dark gray metal that really was closer to being black. And even though his vision was still too blurry from being out for however long and his head wouldn’t stop spinning, he still recognized the red spots on the chest plate as two sixes.
‘Is that the symbol of the royal ranks the blue guy talked about’, he idly wondered before a tight grip in his forearms dragged him up and out of the room.
The black spots were back and one again dancing in front of his eyes but the two men, who he assumed were knights or guards of some kind, wouldn’t let him take a break to catch his breath.
They were entirely uncaring of his still healing wounds and just shoved him forward when his steps faltered. He didn’t get the chance to stop even for a second. It didn’t help that they wouldn’t support him either where he was struggling to keep himself upright.
His breathing came in heavy pants and it was clear that whatever medicine the doctors gave him to numb the pain was losing its effect rather quickly. There wasn’t enough strength in his body to even speak up about his discomfort.
The stinging returned full force and caused a pulsing pain to make its way along the cut running along his chest in perfect sync with his heartbeat. Each and every step now that the effect of the medicine was completely gone resolved in a pained grunt being forced from his mouth.
Just like every other attempt of protest, the sounds of agony that left his lips minutely went ignored though. He couldn’t even voice how little he appreciated the manhandling, not that they were likely to listen to his complaints in the first place.
Though he was mildly glad about them not letting go of him, even as they remained their tight grip on the spears, because he knew for a fact he’d collapse on the spot if they did. He would not be able to hold himself up for even a second with that unwanted support gone.
As they forcefully pulled him around another corner the gray colors of the corridor started to blur together again in a vague image of different shades. The amount of blood he had lost before being dragged to this place was likely to blame for that.
Though since he still wasn’t filled in on how long ago it actually was that that happened, he couldn’t say for sure that it was the whole reason. Neither of the knights had muttered a single word of explanation. The only thing they had said on the entire walk was that the King had requested to see him as soon as he woke up.
Supposably the same King the blue guy had been talking about.
He cursed them out internally for leaving him in the dark like that and wished he could lift his arms to punch their faces in. As it was though, both the pain and the exhaustion that made his limbs feel like they weigh tons prevented him from even lifting a finger to fight them off.
At least for the moment he could do nothing but comply with them.
The knights only ever came to a stop when they stood face to face with a huge wooden door. It was as dark as the rest of the castle, reaching as high as the ceiling and was slowly being pushed open. He was shoved forwards again the moment it was parted wide enough for them to go through. Much to his chagrin. The short pause had been quite nice.
His vision was still too blurry to make out details, but even he could see how massive the space was he was led into. It was clear to him that it was the great hall of the place.
It also meant that this was where he was going to meet the King.
Like everything else too, the room was in a cold gray color and had unnecessarily much empty space and he could make out five colorful spots by the far wall.
Presumably the royal family then. Though it was hard to tell anything specific other than that they were the brightest colors he had yet seen in this kingdom.
The next time they stopped, the next time the knight gave him time to breath, was when he was harshly pushed down to his knees right in front of the throne’s podium. With their grip adjusted the knights pressed down on his shoulders and since he was still not fit enough to protest further than low cursing under his breath, he went down relatively easy.
Only to have the movement and manhandling flare up the pain he was already in all over again. This time too they didn’t react in the slightest at the low scream of agony he let out. By now he wasn’t even surprised, it became clear that nothing would.
Not the futile resistance he provided, not the curses he hurled at them, not the painful grunts he made with every push and pull.
The one good thing was that, once his knees were touching the carpet covered floor, his vision started to clear up again and the stinging in his chest let up. Almost instantly he could breathe again, though it still came in heavy panting.
In a rush of strength he shook off the offending hands. They left him well enough alone but remained close behind him to interfere if necessary.
Seeing that it wouldn’t make any difference now to fight the situation, he just looked up to take the figures at the podium in. What had previously been nothing more than colorful blobs began slowly morphing into something that resembled living people.
He could now see that the person in the middle, who was obviously the King, wasn’t even standing up. With his vision all blurry as it had been before, he hadn’t been able to make it out. But since he reached about the same height as the other four, he just figured it was because he stood as well.
There was a question on the tip of his tongue, how tall he was if this was him sitting down.
Though his attention was soon drawn to the great emblem on the wall behind the man. It was a bird, with its wings wide open and skulls between the feathers. Again, it had two sixes. This time carved into the chest.
It was then that he realized that it could only mean he managed to reach Germa. The one place he had always tried to keep away from. Mainly because he highly disagreed with the views of the very king now in front of him.
But, as they say, desperate times call for desperate measures. And bleeding out over a lucky strike wasn't the way he intended to go out.
His eyes then finally managed to stray from the king’s golden helmet and dirty blond hair to the people on each side of him.
Almost instantly his gaze fell onto a familiar face, thrice.
He questioned for all of a second where he knew it from before he spotted the reason. There, sandwiches between the king and an almost copy of himself, was the blue guy from the forest.
Dressed in the same uniform, he stood there as if he owned the place. And with a somewhat delayed realization, he understood that this was true and not just arrogance.
It took him until then to fully grasp that the guy was one of the princes. With that realization came the one of seeing the rest of the siblings that differed in only their hair color and slight height differences.
Beside blue on the right side stood one other man with green hair, though multiple shades darker than his own. He too looked down on him like he was the dirt on his shoe but for most parts he seemed rather bored.
Then his gaze wandered to the other side where another copy stood at the king's side. Again the only real difference was the outfit and hair color, red this time. But he was also wearing tinted glasses that hid how he was looking for most parts.
It was unsettling to not know that, and the way he was holding himself even more arrogantly than even his brothers was not making it any better.
But that didn’t even come close to how unnerving the last sibling was.
The princess. The pink haired princess. Who he, for the life of him, could not read at all. At the same time though she seemed to be able to look right through him and see all the secrets he didn’t even have.
Like she could see all his thoughts just by meeting his eyes in a silent staring match.
That was before he inevitably got distracted by another thing the siblings, this time all of them, seemed to share. All of them had eyebrows in an odd shape that distracted him and had him end the eye contact. Each and every one of them, at least those he was able to see, were curling at the right end.
His eyes flicked between the siblings to take the weird feature in, but before he could even comprehend it enough for a question to form, the strong and loud voice of the king echoed through the hall.
“So you are the so-called ‘Demon of the east’, Roronoa Zoro. There is quite the reputation that precedes you, tales of your fearsome power and relentless pursuit of your goals, and moreover, some pretty nasty rumors." At the mention of an all too well known rumor, he growled involuntarily, but the king just went on. "What a pleasant coincidence that you would one day end up indebted to me and my Kingdom.”
In response to that statement, his eyes narrowed. He wasn’t aware of having encumbered himself with any debt, especially not with Germa. And he was absolutely certain that this was something he would know of.
Mainly because he tends to keep a close eye on his finances and any acquired debts he might come across. A crucial habit he developed years ago after befriending a certain redhead.
After all, she would bleed him dry money-wise if he tripped and fell into debt to her for a simple favor.
Though if the king was telling the truth and he needed to repay them for something, he would do as they say. And he was a man of his word.
He found out mere minutes later that the favor that indebted him was saving his life. Saving him from bleeding out. The king went on a short and direct explanation about it and he was sure to exaggerate about the severity of everything. At least he was darn certain that was what happened.
“To repay our generous aid in averting your assured death, you will serve in my royal ranks for the time being.” His eyes narrowed further and his brows furrowed into a frown. It was just like the blue guy had predicted.
There wasn’t any room for discussion, so he stayed silent until the king finished the explanation of what he was expected to do. It wasn’t as good an explanation as he had hoped for and left him with just as many questions as he came in with.
No word was said about how long he was out, nothing even close to how long he was supposed to stay and certainly no one told him who exactly he was to look out for.
It was just expected of him to follow his new orders blindly and before he had time to get more answers out of them, or even come up with any questions, he was already dragged back to his feet.
With just as much care as they had displayed on their way here, the same two knights pulled him up and out of the great hall, where he could hear one of the princes' voices in the distance. Asking the king when they would get to fight him, to see ‘if he was any good for real’.
He would have snorted at that if he had not already been back to being in excruciating pain again.
So as the massive wooden door slammed shut behind him, after taking several detours to different rooms - that each made him suffer as much as the first trip - to get his swords back to his side, he still had the king’s words echo through his head. “He is to remain in his room under any and all circumstances.”
Though he failed to explain who ‘He’ was.
His immediate assumption was to secure that person's safety in the room, and for all intents and purposes he was planning to stick to that until his debt was repaid - which meant he would be out of Germa as soon as possible - but the thought of that being the case was tossed out the window soon enough.
Approximately when he entered the room and before he had a chance to take in the surroundings, he was blindsided by something rushing at him.
Heading right at his head. And it was incredibly fast at that.
It would have hit him square in the face if it wasn’t for his quick reflexes that, once again, set in more on instinct. He dodged just in time and ducked before that something could land on his nose.
The sudden movement upset the cut on his chest even more than all the walking did before and he groaned loudly in agony.
As he ducked, he fell into a crouching position, but the pain and remaining weakness from being dragged around so soon caused his leg to give out under him, and he dropped to one knee in an instant. The stinging only got worse and began to spread beyond his chest, reaching most of his torso in no time.
He lifted his hand towards the bandaged covering the wound and pressed lightly. In hopes it would keep the stitches from ripping apart.
Another grunt left his lips at that before he finally looked up to see what it was that flew at him.
It all happened in a matter of mere seconds and only once he lifted his head did the crashing sound of something hitting hard against the wall behind him reach his ears. That alone showed him that the hit wasn’t only fast, it was strong too and surely would have knocked him out cold.
At the same time, an unfamiliar voice swore before him. "Damn Judge, sending another stupid knight after me."
Cursing lowly under his panting breath he followed the long black object as it lowered itself back to the ground a few feet before him and a thousand questions raced through his mind.
The main one being, why he was here.
Because this "object" wasn't so much a thing as it was a leg that belonged to the very person occupying the room. He glanced up the length of it and eventually he came face to face with the pale face of a young man.
Immediately, the thought of how beautiful he was flashed through his mind, and only after that did he register the obvious worry he was expressing. Oddly enough, he then realized that it was the first person showing real concern since he woke up here in the castle. Or the first one to even bother to appear that way.
The king, the princes, the princess, and even the knights remained stoic and indifferent towards his wounds.
But on this man's face, the distress was openly visible. And even if it turned out to be an act, it still felt good for some reason. To have that gorgeous person worry about him. For a few moments he just stared into the deep blue eyes, or the one that was not hidden behind a fringe of light blond hair, trying not to get lost in the beautiful color.
It wasn’t until after he caught himself again that he noticed another detail, more confusing even than the order to keep this man in here.
He had the same oddly curled eyebrow that all the royal siblings shared. The same one he had seen in the Great Hall, on the faces of what he thought were all of the king's children.
Though he wasn't so certain of that anymore.
The only difference with the weird shape was that the curl was on the opposite end. On the left instead of the right. Even more questions began to race in his mind, causing his head to spin lightly.
Did that mean the person before him was also one of the princes? Was he being threatened and kept in this room to be safe?
Surely not if this was how strong he was. It had to be something else. But the blood loss and overall confusion hindered him from thinking of anything.
Suddenly, the words from the king echoed though his mind, silencing anything else.
The more he stared, the more differences he actually noticed to the rest of the siblings.
He seemed smaller, leaner, and he definitely had less of that arrogant air surrounding him. But there was also the hair, not the dirty blond the king himself had, but not as unnatural a color as the siblings' either.
It was almost like gold. And it looked so incredibly soft, framing the pale face in light curls. His entire attention was captured by the way it highlighted his features
All his pain was momentarily forgotten and all he could think of was how damn pretty the man was. And with the strength he showed beforehand it really wasn’t surprising when he felt his heart skip a beat.
Then, suddenly, the expression on the pale face shifted and the odd eyebrows furrowed into a frown. The blue eyes had flicked down towards his chest and he was instantly pulled back to the present.
His own gaze followed after and he too took a look at the mess his chest had become.
“Oh shit.” It was said so softly he almost missed it. A soft mumbling that might as well have been in his head. Partially because that’s exactly the same thought that ran through his mind too at the very same second.
The hand he had pressed against himself slowly pulled away and revealed the dark red that had spread around. He immediately understood the worry he saw on the other person's face because his whole hand was covered in blood.
Both of them watched for a moment as little droplets of red made their way down his arm or fell straight to the ground.
All of the bandages that basically substituted for a shirt were also seeped through. The sudden movements the past few minutes had obviously ripped the stitches and left the fabric stained and bloody.
He couldn’t quite keep his body from swaying a little and all the lost blood caused a headache to make itself known. It wasn’t long before he felt lightheaded. So he lost his awareness of the surrounding room yet again and only in the back of his mind did he realize the prince had closed in on him.
What he also only then realized was, that it wasn’t him who had cursed out before, the voice an unfamiliar but calming one. Low and a little raspy yet also just as nice to hear.
That same voice spoke again as the man kneeled down next to him. “Hang in there Mosshead, lets get you somewhere more comfortable.” He felt careful hands supporting him lightly by his shoulders only a moment after he spoke.
Just as carefully and slowly he pulled him to his feet, giving him time to catch his breath and not forcing him forward like the knights had done. He was incredibly grateful for that.
Though he still couldn't let go of the comment about his hair.
So, while the man led him over to a comfortable-looking seat - one he hadn't even noticed yet - he shot back a comment of his own.
“Who’re you calling Mosshead, Curly brow.” His voice was hoarse as hell from not being used in quite some time, and it felt as if he had swallowed thorns when he spoke with how dry his throat was, so it came out more strained and croaked than intended.
Still, the gentleness didn't let up, and with just a little more cussing, the man simply sat him down on one of the arm chairs.
He still had no idea who this gorgeous man was or why he had to keep him in here, he just knew that he would love to get to know him better if he had to stay in Germa anyway.