Hey Everyone, back again.
Loving the support I'm getting and thanks again for everyone who's been so patient. Hoping everyone likes this chapter. As some of you might have guessed, I have a bit of a love of cliffhangers.
Yah, I know, you can hate me for it, but I think its fun, XD
In any case, enjoy and leave reviews if you like.
Once more a huge shout out to my buddy C.S Skywalker, who is making sure my work is flowing well and sounds good. Couldn't have done this without you my friend.
For a long while, Tamara didn't want to move.
She stared up at the ceiling of her bedroom, eyes distance and debated going back to sleep, but this had been the day she'd picked out. Even knowing that it was hard to motivate herself to get up.
It was Virgil who finally stimulated her, by walking over her belly and sitting on her sternum, looking down with his slit eyes.
"Yeah, yeah...I'm up."
He mewed in response, moving off her and jumping to the floor. The little kitten was larger now, growing into his body and showing long muscular legs and sleek black fur shiny with health. He reminded Tamara of a small panther.
Sighing heavily, she folded the covers off and sat up. Swinging her legs over she stood up and pulled down the material of her silk calf-length nightgown. Shivering as the chilly air hit her shoulders, she slipped on a matching housecoat. Then she spent a few minutes simply standing in place.
Blue eyes slowly looked over at the full backpack on the floor by the door. Teeth caught a lip and she almost turned and climbed back into bed. But she'd set the date and now she had to go through with this. It was needed, she had to do this. Otherwise, she'd never move forward.
Another weighted puff of air exited her lips as she turned and rummaged through the closet for some clothes. Pulling out a strapless long black dress with dark red trim, Tamara walked slowly towards the bathroom to get ready.
Once cleaned and dressed, she slipped on an ankle-length black coat with a slit down the back that ended at her hips and picked up the resting pack, swinging it onto her shoulders. Sliding her dagger into its normal place at her back, she finished off her preparation by pushing her feet into a pair of black flat-heeled shoes. Tamara opened the door to her room and looked over her shoulder,
"Virgil, come."
The still baby cat meowed softly and padded over. Bending down, she scooped him up and lifted the feline to her torso. Familiar with the move, Virgil planted paws on her and walked behind her head, balancing on both her shoulders and the pack on her back.
Her steps echoed through the ghostly corridors of the castle as she walked. The sound was mournful and hollow, just like her. She didn't bother bringing a candle with her on this trip. Besides, at this point, she knew most of the common routes of the estate by heart anyway.
As Tamara came to the front entryway, she paused and debated going to the kitchen. Mihawk would be expecting breakfast. Shaking her head, she kept walking forward. The Warlord could fend for himself, he'd done so for years without her.
Outside the cold was worst. Pulling the coat tighter around her, Tamara mused that she'd definitely picked a good day. Dreary, bleak, and black; perfect conditions if ever there were any. Continuing to walk away from the castle, she pushed down the fear the started to surface.
Dark trees enveloped her, and silence filled the air. Part of her tried to desperately convince her to rush back to the castle. Tamara pushed down that part of her and scanned the murky undergrowth. Weeds, long grasses, and vines -not what she wanted. Yet somewhere there had to be some; she just needed to look harder.
Then she saw what she wanted. Despite herself, a small smile flitted across her lips.
A clearing came into view; old broken debris filled the former battlefield, stray swords and broken armor littered the ground. At one time, she was sure the Kingdom had been lovely. Briefly, Tamara wondered what the Shikkearu's war had been over. Men fought for any number of reasons -though power and money were the most common. In any case, it was done. None of her concern now.
A massive wooden cross decorated the middle of the aged carnage struck area, so tall that looking up at it made her a little dizzy. Heading towards it, Tamara found a flatten portion of rubble and dusted off the top. On her back, Virgil jumped off and circled around the area, though he remained close to her.
Slinging off the pack, she unzipped the top. Reaching inside, Tamara whipped out a long square of white cloth, spreading it over the flat rock. Digging around again, she grasped two small saucer-like cups and a ceramic flask. Setting one cup on the opposite side of the cloth and one on her side, Tamara filled each one with a bit of the sake she'd brought.
Setting the flask down, she sat crossed legged and placed the small bundle of purple Fireweed flowers she'd picked in the forest by the lonely cup. The last item retrieved was a simple white candle. Setting it in the middle of the makeshift table, Tamara struck a match and lit the wick. For a long while, Tamara simply sat in silence. Then she finally picked up her cup and raised it towards the vacant seat,
"I know it has been a while. A lot happened, and I -I haven't had a lot of time. Well, no, that's not really true. I have had time, I just...haven't wanted to do this. I-I didn't want to say goodbye..." Tears started to form in her eyes as she spoke softly to the still air. Even the wind had died down, seeming to sense that silence was needed. Tamara forced herself to keep speaking,
"It's hard, you know. Harder than I ever really thought it'd be. I never thought you'd ever not be there. After Mother passed, you just became everything. You were always there, always the strong one. I never felt like I needed to become anything more...because you'd always be behind me, helping me, protecting me, supporting me. I just-"
Drops of water fell down and moist spots formed on her skirt. The hand that held the sake wavered and the liquid quiver in the small cup. A loud sniffle came from her direction.
Her voice trembled as she moved on. "You always said I was one true treasure. Mother and me, we were everything to you. But I never told you that you were everything to me too. You taught me so much, how to walk, how to climb, how to punch Flett in the lip for being a jerk. You always tried my cooking experiments, even when they came out horrible. Remember the time I tried to make onigiri. We didn't have any nori, so I tried to use lettuce instead. And used pepper instead of salt. It must have been awful tasting, but you just smiled and told me it was good."
A watery smile touched her lips as the words kept pouring out. "I honestly don't know if this is going to help at all. But I can't keep living in the past. When Mother passed, and we stood by her grave together, you told me that she'd always be with us. Always be near so long as we remembered her. I do remember her, and I'm glad you two are together again. But Papa…I miss you...I miss you so much."
Setting down the cup on the cloth, she let her shoulder shake as the sobs took hold of her. Grief and pain flooded ever sound as memories, both happy and sad flitted through her mind. She saw her father teaching her to write, patently moving her fingers as she struggled to form the kanji. His worried face when she'd come home coated in mud, the joy in his eyes when she blew out the candles on her birthday cake. The pleading desperation in the brown eyes as red liquid poured from his dying body while fire licked the walls and powerful arms dragged her away.
Sorrow poured out like the rice wine she'd served. Beside her, Virgil pressed close and purred as hard as he could, trying to comfort her in the only way he knew how. Tamara placed her free hand on her pet, letting the rumbles vibrate through her palm and stroked the baby soft fur. After a long while, the sobs grew quieter and clarity started to pierce her mind. Sniffling and rubbing her eyes, Tamara reached out a picked up the cup again,
"This is all I can do now. I know it's not the best, not what I want, but it'll have to do. There's still a lot I don't understand. Maybe I never will, but in any case, I need to try and move on. I'll always remember you, Papa. I'll always think of you, and of Mother. I'm safe now, probably safer than I've ever been. I hope you know that. Please be at peace and rest well. And tell Mother I love her."
Raising the cup into the air, Tamara touched her lips to the rim and drain it. The sake burned her throat as she swallowed, but the pain was welcomed. It soothed the itchy sensation her crying had caused.
As she set the cup down and refilled it, she spoke again. "For someone who claims to enjoy solitude, you don't seem to understand the concept of leaving someone the hell alone."
Drinking again, Tamara waited patiently, looking into the burning candle on the memorial alter she'd made. It took a long time, in fact, she had two more cups of sake before she heard him move behind her. Heels clicked against the ruins and a shadow crossed over the area in front of her.
"How did you even know I was here?" she didn't turn around at his low voice, eye focused forward.
Tamara stroked Virgil's head, who looked up at Mihawk and flicked his ear. He'd warned her about the trailing shadow back in the forest when she'd picked the flowers for the ceremony, bunting her cheek with his wet nose and mewing softly in her ear. Virgil always seemed to be able to sense Mihawk, long before Tamara could ever hope to. Until now, the Shichibukai had clearly been unaware of her pet's ability.
It should have greatly offended her that he'd ease-dropped on the funeral proceedings. In all honestly, she was too emotionally drained to care. The sake was probably helping that too.
Silence fell between them as she sipped the wine, feeling a bit lightheaded from the alcohol.
After a time, he spoke with a soft tone. "You shouldn't be out here alone, it's dangerous."
Tamara swallowed and replied with a slightly bitter voice, "I wasn't going to do this inside. Papa loved the outdoors, lived for it. He deserved to be laid to rest under the sky, not buried in some underground tomb."
Another round of stillness was made. She didn't care that she'd just snapped at someone that could kill her with one finger. It was his own damn fault for following her in the first place.
"May I sit?" his voice remained soft, the tone was meant to be comforting, she was sure. As empty as she felt, it didn't mean much.
"Go ahead. Not like I can stop you anyway."
She sensed him pause for a while before moving beside her. He lowered himself silently to the ground, keeping a respectable distance between them and rested one arm on a bent knee. Tamara was tempted to glance at him, to see what his expression was, but didn't. He was the one intruding, she was allowed to be annoyed.
The flask of sake was half gone. She debated having more, but still wanted enough to purify the site, so resisted the urge. Mihawk remained silent, both sitting in the dank atmosphere for a long time. It surprised her that he was the first to speak.
"I never knew my Mother. She died bringing me into this world. My Father never forgave me for that."
Now she did look at him, all feelings of irritation vanishing instantly. His expression was as it always was, blank and serious with no hints of emotion. But his voice held a tint of pain she'd never heard from him before. Tamara looked back to the altar before daring to say anything.
"I'm sorry. Your Father must have loved her very much," she said.
"He didn't."
She looked over in shock at the blunt statement.
"He was angry that my birth ended his ability to continue the bloodline. There were no other women with pure enough lineage to be considered worthy to be his wife. Adrian never held it against me."
Considering how little she knew about Mihawk, this conversation was really turning out differently than she'd imagined.
"Your brother?"
"Older brother, yes. I haven't spoken to him in a long time. Or my Father."
"Why not?" Realizing that she'd probably just crossed a line, she corrected quickly, "Wait, don't answer that."
"What have I told you about backpedaling?"
"Err, not too." He merely gave a sharp nod in response.
"They took something from me. Something beyond precious. I've never forgiven them for that. And never will. So, I severed ties and left them to their own fate," he said, quietly.
Well, that was something. Tamara didn't think she could ever be that cold. Then again, she didn't know the full story, maybe she could be. Her mind cast back to a familiar face that haunted her dreams. Shoving the image aside, she poured another cup of sake. Instead of drinking it herself, she offed the cup to Mihawk.
Golden eyes glanced at her hand before rising to her face. Tamara gave a slight nod and he reached out to take the cup of wine. His fingers brushed against hers, warm and gentle. She watched him tip the rim and swallow the contents without pause before setting the cup back onto the cloth.
Neither said anything else, resting side by side and watching the flicking candle burn. As the wax burned up and the flame started to die, Tamara finally moved. Her legs were cramped up from staying in the same place for so long, but she ignored the pain.
Picking up the bottle of sake, she leaned forward and upended the remaining liquor onto the middle of the altar. The sharp, acrid scent filled the air. After the flask was empty, she set it back down onto the makeshift table. And then sat still for another long while.
She felt lighter somehow. It was hard to say if that was because she'd finally said goodbye properly or because she felt closer to Mihawk. Tamara was still mildly annoyed that he'd stalked after her but seeing as he understood the purpose better than anyone, maybe it was okay. Reaching over, she grabbed the now empty backpack and started to climb to her feet.
Mihawk rose as she started to move, offering her a hand up. She didn't take it, choosing to stand on her own. This had been her choice, she would see it through without his help. Though his presence was comforting. On her feet again, Tamara looked up at the simple grave marker, massive as it was.
"Goodbye Papa," she whispered softly.
Virgil rubbed against her legs insistently. Managing a small smile, she scooped up her pet and let him walk over her shoulders. Turning from the memorial site, she started to walk back to the castle.
In an odd reversal of roles, Mihawk fell in a step behind her.
Behind the pair, the wind blew softly over the altar, rustling the lilac petals of the flowers like the gentle whispering of the fallen giving thanks to those that remembered.
The hot water pounded against his bare shoulders, a soothing rhythm that allowed his mind to wander. Even though he really didn't want it to. How long had it been since he'd thought of his bother? Of his father? Truly let the memories of his home country run rampant through his mind? Months? No, more likely years.
Running a hand through his wet hair, Mihawk pressed a palm flat on the slick granite tiles and lowered his head, letting the pouring water stream past his face and closing his eyes as he recalled the previous day's events.
He hadn't intended to intrude on Tamara's funeral ceremony. When he'd spotted her form walking away from an upstairs window, dressed in black with a packed bag and her pet on her shoulders, his first thought was that she'd finally decided to leave the island.
It had disturbed him greatly. Both that she wanted to leave and that she was doing so without even bidding him farewell. Then there was the fact that she was likely going to steal one of his boats in order to sail off the island and or get killed by the Humandrills before reaching the sea. All these reasons had led to him stalking after her, staying far enough away that she wouldn't notice his presence.
Mihawk was deeply regretting letting her keep the cat in his household now.
What troubled him more was his willingness to speak of his past to her. When he'd sat next to her at the altar, his intention had merely been to offer another presence of comfort. Like her loyal pet had done. Nothing more.
But she had been so sad. Her blue eyes that always shimmered like the ocean waves had been dark and distant, cheeks hollowed and red from tears. It was normal for what she was going through. Mihawk had seen more than his share of grief-stricken expressions, but to see it on Tamara's face.
He'd wanted wipe away all the sorrow flooding her soft features, wished nothing more than to see her pretty smile again.
That desire was what bothered him currently. Tamara was interesting, certainly. Entertaining and enjoyable company -not to mention an exceptional housekeeper. But he didn't know when she'd wriggled close enough to warrant his concern and protection. No one had ever received that from him, not since he'd left his birth island. Even Shanks had only ever gotten a temporary alliance when needed -more to keep the redhead alive long enough for Mihawk to defeat him than a desire to safeguard.
It should have bothered him, how easily the whispers of his nearly forgotten family slipped from his mouth. He'd never spoken of them to anyone outside Moldovien, even Shanks didn't know of Mihawk's past. There'd never been any reason or need to share such a thing. But it didn't bother him...in fact, if anything, he felt lighter, less burdened, even with as little as he had shared.
Needless to say, the rest of that day had passed by rather morbidly.
As he mused, it occurred to him that she knew more about him now than he did of her. Hell, he didn't even know the names of her parents, or that of the wicked uncle he'd only ever heard her tell of in panicked screams. He forced that thought far away, otherwise, he might be tempted to demand that information from her. Nothing would please him more than to slowly torture and torment the ghosts that shadowed his Little Thing.
Blinking rapidly, Mihawk shook his head. When had he started to think like that about her? This strange connection to her, what he was experiencing,
It was...
Mihawk blinked suddenly, feeling a chill hit his skin. The sound of running water ceased and his mind snapped back to the present. Looking up at the showerhead, a dark frown marred his features as a few stray drops fell from the silver attachment.
A snarl rumbled from his chest as he turned and stepped from the basin, rivets of liquid trailing down his skin. He grabbed a towel before storming from the bathroom. Clearly, the damn apes needed to be reminded who was the Alpha on this island.
With his hair still wet, Mihawk marched swiftly down the hallway. He hadn't bothered with a shirt in his irritated state, choosing to throw on his trademark open black coat. Yoru hummed on his back, trying to comfort her master. As he descended the grand staircase, from a side door Tamara appeared, looking up to him, wearing a confused expression.
"Mihawk-san, the stove, and fridge stopped working. Is something wrong?" she asked.
His annoyance doubled, though he kept his expression carefully neutral. No need to startle her. For all her progress thus far, she could still be flighty as a wild deer if he was unintentionally too harsh. Coming to the bottom of the stairs, he saw Virgil pad out behind her. The feline mewed in greeting to him.
"You might say that. The Humandrills have likely damaged the generator. Every so often, they get uppity and need to be put back in place."
Tamara's eyes widened slightly before understanding crossed her face. "Oh. I see."
She frowned a bit, looking to the front entrance doors. "How long will it be down?"
"That depends on the damage. It could be a few hours or a few weeks, I won't know till I investigate." A lower lip was caught between white teeth and Mihawk couldn't stop his eyes from being drawn to the movement. She didn't notice, lost in planning as she glanced back over her shoulder.
"Alright then," she said. "I'll move the perishable foods down into the wine cellar for now. If the powers out for too long, at least the cold will keep it for a time."
He looked away as she turned back to him, moving towards the double doors and opening them. "That would be wise. I'll probably be gone for a few hours."
"If you need help, don't hesitate to come get me. Be safe."
Mihawk kept walking but raised a hand in a backward wave as he left. They both knew her offer was more to be polite than anything else. Tamara knew absolutely nothing about mechanics.
Walking around to the backside of the castle, he looked over the small lake. The natives of Kuraigana had built their monastery's home well. Perched at the highest point on the island and near one of the larger bodies of natural water. And the far side of the said pool was where he needed to go.
Originally, he'd wanted the power source closer to the castle, untill he'd heard the noise it made while running. To his sensitive ears, it was extremely loud, so moving it further away was needed. It had taken some time to train the Humandrills to avoid the new stone structure, but he'd managed it. Still, they seemed to forget from time to time.
Reaching the sturdy building, Mihawk frowned at the broken door hanging by a single hinge. It was still intact, which was unusual. Alarms started to rise in his mind as he stepped into the darkened doorway. The large generator sat peacefully in the center of the room. Whole and undamaged, but silent.
He stood there for a moment, confusing flooding him until Yoru vibrated, warning him. Senses screaming to life, Mihawk spun in place just as a bullet whizzed past his cheek. The metal ball embedded itself into the thick wood as he watched its trail pass inches away from his face.
Bodies of thick, muscular men surrounded him as their twisted grins leered out as they stalked from the forest's shadowy edges. They'd been smart, staying silent and still to avoid his attention. Most of them were missing teeth, with bandana's tied around their heads. Mihawk's nose crinkled at their salt-scented clothing. Some wore a stitched-on Jolly Roger symbol. Jeers and laughs came from the group as they spread into a semi-circle around him.
The Shichibukai assessed his situation. He recognized this group as the kind of stereotypical pirates Tamara would have heard of from the World Government. He resisted arching an eyebrow in distaste. It would only goad them on. His golden eyes that gave him his name flitted around the group, counting the number of men.
There were two dozen, maybe a few more if some were still hiding. What troubled him most was how they'd managed to get so close to his home without drawing the Humandrills wrath.
His hand wrapped around Yoru's hilt and he unsheathed the massive blade, saying nothing but immediately casting his senses to the estate. Haki flooded his vision and his heart rate increased when half a dozen unknown auras appeared within the walls.
A distraction. A well-planned one at that. He cursed himself for being so foolish. Mihawk tensed his muscles, prepared to finish off these intruders quickly. He needed to get back. Tamara was in danger.
The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and he leaped backward just as the ground exploded where he'd been standing. Massive waves of energy split the soil and dirt kicked up into the air. His sharp vision saw through the cloud as a new figure stood tall while he skidded to a halt.
"Hawk Eyes Mihawk...one of the legendary Warlords of the Sea. It's a pleasure to meet you. Your reputation precedes you. Very few have ever dodged my Sky Slice Barrage."
The voice was male and spoke with haughty confidence. As the dust settled, Mihawk looked upon a golden-haired man with broad shoulders and sharp angled features sporting a cruel smile. And he radiated power despite having no weapons on his person. This was the Captain of the pirate crew, of that there could be no doubt.
Mihawk briefly wondered where the hell he'd come from. The attack had come from above and aside from the generator building, there were no other nearby high points. Pushing aside the thought, he spoke with a calm, steady voice.
"I will commend you for making it past the Humandrills, but that will not warrant any mercy, to your crew or to you."
A low chuckle came from the Captain. "I expect none."
He gave a brief bow, mockery ringing in every movement. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Ares, known to the Navy as The Crimson Claw. I intend to be the victor here today. Killing you will make me a hero among pirates; my name will ring through the clouds."
Mihawk forced himself not to look at the castle. Ares' eyes were studying his every move; any sign of concern or hesitation would have disastrous results. The crew of the Crimson Claw fanned out, blocking exits and howling in support of their Captain. He needed to finish this quickly and return to the estate.
That might not be so easy.
"Your overconfidence will be your downfall." Shifting, Mihawk raised Yoru towards his opponent in a challenge. She was screaming in rage, desperate to taste blood. "Come."
As Ares lunged forward, Mihawk swung his blade through the air. Tamara was going to have to fend for herself for now. He only hoped she could handle whatever was coming her way.
I'm horrible, I know. Lay it on me. XD