Hello again, my faithful readers,
I am amazed and honored by the number of reviews and followers I have for this story. When I started it out, I honestly wasn't expecting this much love over the concept. To all you people who offer support and encouragement, you all have my deepest thanks.
With this chapter comes the long awaited and often requested appearance many have been asking for. I do hope I've managed to accurately capture these two beloved characters, seeing as they don't show up too often and tend to speak even less. So if anyone has any suggestion, please feel free to speak out.
I also must add on that due to unfortunate events, my awesome Beta reader is unable to proofread this chapter. With that said, I am looking around for a new partner in crime to work with. If anyone is wanting to help out, and get some sneak peeks into further chapters, please drop me a line.
But enough prattling, on with the story. XD
Snapping out the damp cloth, Tamara hung the material over the rope and pin it in place. At her feet a white basket full of clothing waited to be stretched out on the clothesline. A gentle wind blew by, ruffling the line of fabric already set out.
Picking up one of Mihawk's shirts, Tamara's nose twitched a little as the deep scent always around him infiltrated her senses. It was a comforting smell, something familiar. She wasn't sure when she'd come to enjoy it, but she simply couldn't resist the urge to lean in and inhale the moist material.
Blinking suddenly and feeling a flush hit her cheeks, she pulled away and continued with the task, glancing around to make sure she was alone. The only one nearby was Virgil, who was batting playfully at a few strands of grass.
Finishing with the laundry, she picked up the basket and walked back inside. Tamara set down the hamper near the door before going deeper into the castle. She'd need it later, to fill up once the clothes were dry. Virgil followed along with her. Her white sundress rustled around her iconic bare feet. Mihawk would be annoyed but she enjoyed the cool feeling of the stone on her soles.
When she crossed the hallway threshold into the main forage, Tamara promptly froze dead in her tracks.
There were two men standing in the front entryway.
Neither of them was Mihawk. In fact, the Shichibukai wasn't present at all.
One of the men was a tall individual, even taller than Mihawk. She felt positively miniature in comparison. He had a lit cigarette clenched between his lips, short grey hair and an X shaped scar on his left temple. Tamara swallowed hard at the sight of the rifle causally resting in the yellow sash at his waist. Even the colorful spiral patterned cloak didn't make her feel any less nervous.
The other man was shorter, but no less intimidating. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the slick mane of screaming bright red hair he sported, moving on to the three scars over his left eye and wide cheerful grin showing off white teeth highlighted by a thin layer of stubble. A saber was sheathed on his right side.
Upon her entrance, everyone momentarily stopped moving and stared at each other. The awkward stand-off was broken by the red haired male.
"Well hey there, Pretty Lady. You're a new face I haven't seen before."
Tamara shifted her focus to the one that spoke, feeling her muscle tense up despite the friendly greeting. Her hand crept to the small of her back as she responded, trying to keep her voice steady, "The last person who came into this house without permission, I threw out a window."
Mentioning the fact that she'd been yanked out the window as well wasn't smart, she was trying to be as threatening as possible. The grinning male blinked at her three times, then promptly threw his head back and laughed heartily,
"Dahahahahaha! I thinks she's talking to you Benn! Your mug scares all the pretty girls! Better watch out, Old Hawk-Eye's got himself a new bodyguard!"
Tamara saw the taller man smirk towards the chortling crimson, "I doubt very much that's the case Captain, if anything you're upsetting her," he inclined his head towards her respectfully, "Forgive my overly euthanasic friend, Miss, we're not here to cause trouble. We've come to see Mihawk, is he home?"
She flicked her eyes back and forth between them suspiciously. Neither male moved and she didn't feel a threatening presence from them. However, that didn't mean they weren't dangerous as hell. After all, they were pirates, she dealt with enough of them in her short adventures to know that. Motion from the floor drew her attention. Virgil padded across the room to the red haired man and Tamara opened her mouth to order her pet back, fear flooding through her blood.
But the black feline looked up at the smiling human, tilting his pointed head before aggressively rubbing against the exposed skin his short, floral printed trousers showed off. Tamara stared in shock as the man cooed in delight, crouching down to scratch Vigil's back,
"Awww...kitty! Aren't you cute. Who's a good kitty? You are!"
Even from her distance place, Tamara could hear Vigil purring happily at the attention. The fact that the elder male was goo-goo at her pet like a hyper toddler was lost in her surprise. She watched as the sleek cat switched targets, weaving between the rifle carrier's feet and though he didn't bend down to pet him, the smile on his face climbed higher as he watched.
Afterwards, Virgil turned and trotted back over to her. As though nothing out of the ordinary was happening.
Coiled muscles relaxed, a hand dropped from her back and her stance shifted back to a normal poise, heart rate dropping as she calmed. If there was one thing she'd learned, it was that Virgil was an impeccable judge of human character. If he liked these two men, didn't feel threatened by them, then she trusted his instincts. For now, it would seem there was no immediate danger.
"You know Mihawk-san then? He's expecting you?"
"Do I know Mihawk?" The red head guffawed out loud, bending forward slightly as he snickered at some internal joke she couldn't begin to understand.
A light cuff to his head was delivered to him via the grey haired man called Benn. The giggling didn't cease, "Behave yourself for once, will you? Yes, we're familiar with Mihawk, though I doubt he was expecting us."
She paused after that comment, debating silently about what to do. It could be a lie, the last raid on the house had been very cleverly planned out. But there'd been other signs of trouble prior to that attack, and Virgil had been completely up in arms. Right now, her pet was calm and relaxed, tail gently swishing back and forth. Besides that, if there was a problem with these men, Mihawk would already be here. Of that, she had no doubt.
Nodding carefully, Tamara moved further into the room, coming to stand before the pair, "Very well then, you can wait for Mihawk-san in the drawing room. Follow me, please."
It took a lot of will power to turn her back on the men, but she did so. Footsteps sounded behind her as they followed, one pair a bit quicker than the other. A sudden weight fell across her and Tamara's heart jumped back up into her throat.
"So what's your name, Pretty Lady?"
The red haired man was right beside her, with his right arm slung over her shoulders and a grin so wide stretched over his face, it was all she could see. She inhaled the scent of sea salt, sunshine and gunpowder, as well as the lingering odor of alcohol. Tamara waited for the soul wrenching fear and panic to rise. Waited for the scream to explode from her lungs, the desire to lash out in fear, the need to pull back, to run, hide and tremble...
It didn't come?
Before she could do anything else, contemplate her own state of mind, the male was yanked off her by his companion, his arm falling from her shoulders, "Give the girl some space, Captain. Contrary to what you believe, women do not swoon at the mere sight of you."
Tamara managed not to stumble and turned to look over her shoulder while still walking forward. The red head's cloak was fisted in Benn's hand and he was looking at him in scandalous disapproval even as the shorter male whined like a scolded kid,
"Aww, come on Benn! Haven't I told you not to make me look bad in front of pretty girls."
"You manage to do that well enough on your own."
She felt a slight flush light her cheeks even as a small smile twitched on her face. These two men were certainly different, not the type she'd expected Mihawk to associate with. Finally arriving at the room she wanted, Tamara lead the two over to a large square table with four high back cushioned chairs.
Stepping aside, she waved at the furniture, "You can wait here for Mihawk-san, I'm sure he'll be along soon. Can I get you anything in the meantime? Coffee or tea, perhaps?"
Manners couldn't hurt at this point, and she was currently representing the Warlord.
Both men pulled out a chair and sat down, looking far too relaxed and comfortable in her opinion, considering they were inside a Shichibukai's home. Virgil jumped up onto the redhead's lap, demanding more pets and he grinned at her while rubbing the felines ears,
"Don't suppose I can convince you to raid Hawk-Eye's booze supply, huh? He's always got more than he can handle and I'm getting thirsty."
Despite herself, Tamara's lips curled in an almost smile. His boisterous personality was rather charming on some level. His knowledge of Mihawk's collection did make her feel slightly better about letting them come further into the castle, it was more likely that they were speaking truthfully.
"Unfortunately Captain-san, I happen to enjoy the sensation of breathing. So unless Mihawk-san says its okay, you'll have to go without alcohol for a while."
Brown eyes looked up and widened massively, a pout forming on the man's face. All while he was still grinning and scratching her cats head. It was truly baffling to behold, "Awww...come on. I won't tell if you won't. Pleeasseee."
Tamara blinked at the puppy-dog look, briefly wondering just how old this guy was seeing as he was acting like a teenager. Was he actually trying to guilt-trip her into stealing from Mihawk? Benn shoved his captain again, ending the pleading and smiled politely at her,
"Coffee will be fine, Miss, thank you for your hospitality. Besides that, you need to sober up."
"I am sober! Mostly, anyway..." Tamara heard this response over her shoulder as she walked towards the kitchen and couldn't stop herself from softly giggling. They were certainly interesting company.
The dank air and dark forest was silent and still. He needed that, needed the solitude, the distance and quiet. He needed to meditate, re-center himself and figure out what was happening to him. Well, that wasn't really true. He had a pretty good idea what was happening. He just wasn't ready to fully admit it yet.
Exhaling softly, Mihawk shifted to a cross legged position. Before him was a small pool, more of a murky swamp than anything. But it hummed with life, like most of Kuraigana. Everyone that came to the island thought the landmass was a dead zone, only holding the deadly Humandrills and himself. He knew different. It was very much alive, though in a much different way than most places.
But he wasn't out in the wilderness to connect with the island. He'd done that long ago, learned its songs and sorrows. Breathing deeply, Mihawk focused on his heartbeat, keeping it steady and strong, letting the rhythm clear his mind so his true purpose for being out here could rise.
She was getting too close.
It hadn't been his intention, to let Tamara become this important to him. He'd found her interesting and useful. But somehow, without his knowledge or control, she'd slipped past his defences. She'd snuck up on him, more skillfully than any assassin ever could have. Ever since the Festival of Stars , where he'd seen her in all her glory, observed the looks of longing other men sent towards her, seen how well she was learning to fit back into society, he'd had to fight fiercely against the desire to stake his claim.
Because he had no right to her.
He was her protector, her sponsor, someone she looked to for guidance and support in a dangerous world trying to weed out the weak. It didn't take much effort for him to see that she viewed him mostly in a platonic fashion. Mihawk was more than aware of his own allure and he'd enjoyed his fair share of women in countless different ports, had several females literally throw themselves at his feet because of it, in fact
Tamara might occasionally look his way from the edge of her vision, or flush shyly when an unexpected contact occurred, but she was far from enamored. Yes, she'd admitted to finding him attractive in a drunken stupor, but seeing as she remembered almost nothing about that night, he couldn't really use that as creditable information.
She'd shown interest at times, but it was difficult for him to say if her actions were genuine or an empathic act that she mimicked from his body language. Mihawk knew he could be overwhelming at times. It could also be an instinctive reaction she did because of his status and demeanor. After all, Tamara had yet to deny him anything. If he asked for something, she obeyed without question. The one exception being on Redemption, but seeing as he'd been leaving her behind, he didn't count that.
Then there was the dilemma of his position. Not only as a Shichibukai, which brought with it benefits and downfalls, but also the fact that he was the current holder of the title 'World's Greatest Swordsman'. He had enemies, hundreds of enemies. His chosen lifestyle denied him the luxury of having a women of his own. A female, no matter how strong, stubborn or resilient, was a liability. A weakness, something to be exploited.
Mihawk couldn't put her through that, no matter what his treacherous emotions demanded. It was safer to continue to treat her like he was. As an engaging companion, houseguest and respected servant. It would be better by far to find a haven for her to live out her life in peace and harmony, letting her raise a family and love another.
Lips twisted in a dark snarl at the though of any other man being near her. His selfish desire meant he didn't want to let her go. He wasn't even sure he could muster the will to do that anymore. Not unless she demanded it. Beyond all that, even if he allowed himself to consider the possibility that a relationship on any level could be achieved, there was one glaring issue that continually popped up.
He wasn't allow to touch her.
Ever since the catacomb cave in and outside their training sessions, every encounter of contact had been initiated by her. He'd taken advantage of those moments, certainly, but it didn't stop the fact that he was honor bound by his own oath to avoid physically touching her. Ture, it wasn't needed to establish a deeper connection, but it did severely hamper the effort.
Inhaling again, Mihawk focused on pushing down his desire. He was unaccustomed to denying himself anything, it was part of being a pirate. One was allowed, and almost encouraged to be petty. If he wanted something, he took it. If a fight was needed, an opponent killed or any other obstacle was in the way, it was removed. But this...this was quite possibly one of the hardest things he'd done in a very long time.
As he meditated, a sudden flood of power hit his senses, making Mihawk's golden eyes snapped open. Turning his head, Kenbunshoku Haki humming in his blood, he honed in on the disturbance. A familiar, bright crimson aura gleamed in the distance like a fallen star. Beside it, a more sedate, marginally weaker sapphire blue light followed.
Letting his breath slowly exit through his nose, he closed his eyes again. Shanks and Beckman could find their own way to the castle, he didn't need to escort them. Though their presence was a surprise. It was likely they didn't come for a formal visit. The last time Shanks had showed up unannounced was right after he'd accepted the position of a Warlord, in which his first sentence utter had been, "Have you lost your damn mind?!"
He pushed back Shank's powerful aura and continued his cleansing. Already he knew this would not be something he could shrug off easily. But he was a man of uncompromised discipline. He would find his balance again.
Alone in the kitchen, Tamara exhaled slowly, working on her own composer, completely unaware that her breath matched that of an absent Shichibukai's. The kettle whistled loudly and she removed it from the heat. Measuring out the coffee grounds, she added a teaspoon of cinnamon to the mix.
The added spice was probably part of the reason Mihawk liked her brew so much.
Setting up a tray, she set up the cups and saucers. Almost ready to leave the room, she hummed in afterthought. Tamara slide out a tin from the counter and popped open the top. Grabbing a plate, she added a pile of raspberry scones onto the platter. Taking in another steadying breath and picking up the heavy tray, she heard the loud voice of the pirate captain long before she got back to the drawing room.
"This place looks great! How come my room isn't this clean?"
"It would help if you actually picked up your dirty clothes once and a while."
Their conversation paused as she entered. Benn sent a gentle smile towards her. The yet still unnamed red head beamed in absolute joy at the sight of her, "Welcome back! Oooo...did you bring snacks? Aww, I knew you liked me."
She'd barely set the tray down before two of the scones was snatched up. Benn sent his companion a dirty look before looking at her with sympathy, "I apologise. He's an idiot."
"Heffy!" The muffled, full mouth protest made her fight the urge to snicker behind her hand before she turned over one of the cups, lifting up the warmed pitcher of liquid,
"It's fine, Benn-san. Do you take cream or sugar?"
He shook his head, accepting the drink politely. She moved to pour his captain a cup, forced to move her hand quickly when he grabbed another sweet cake. The pile of scones was much smaller and the red head had crumbs caught in his scruffy whiskers.
"These are great! Did you make them?"
"I did."
Setting the cup of coffee near the captain, she moved to step away. Benn's protest stopped her, "Won't you join us? You'd be welcomed company till Mihawk arrives."
Biting her lip, she glanced at the doorway, as though the Shichibukai would suddenly appear in a flurry of black cloth and metal. No such event happened.
"Oh my god! You are so cute! Kawaii!"
Tamara jolted at that, jerking her gaze to the red haired male. Who was feeding Virgil a chunk of his scone while her pet half stood with paws on his chest. His eyes looked up at her and twinkled, "Not as cute as you though."
Flushing deeply at that, she shifted uncomfortably. Benn stepped in again. He seemed to be constantly correcting his captain's fauxpauses. She had the feeling it was a common occurrence, "Have another cake. Please, won't you sit?"
He upturned one of the unused cups and poured her a serving. Which made leaving the room really awkward. After a few moments of hesitation, she slide into the chair across from Benn. Tamara added her standard flavoring to the dark liquid before picking up the cup.
"Have you been living with Mihawk for long?" Benn questioned once she settled in.
Tamara shrugged lightly, "About 5 months now," she paused in mild surprise at her own words. Had it really been that long? Pushing away the thought, she continued, "I keep the house in order."
"So that's why its so tidy in here. Do you do mobile work too?"
She looked over at the captain when he spoke, but before she could response, Benn interrupted, "You can do your own cleaning, don't try to pawn it off on someone else."
He sounded so motherly, Tamara had to take a swallow of coffee to avoid giggling. She shouldn't be so calm in the presence of these men, but something about their personalities just put her at ease.
"You know, I never did get your name, Pretty Lady."
Shifting focus back to the redhead, Tamara took another drink, "That would be because I didn't give it, Captain-san."
Once more, the man pouted at her, "Aww come on, we're all friends here. Right?"
Despite herself, she felt a smile creep over her face. How could one not find this man somewhat amusing?
"That remains to be seen."
The deep voice, not belonging to either male but achingly familiar, had her standing up before she knew what was happening. Mihawk did not sound impressed.
Entering through the back door, he calmly walked towards the aura's in his home. Tamara was with Shanks and Benn, her golden shine almost swallowed up by the other two. He pushed down the irksome twinge of irritation that came with that knowledge. Yoru hummed on his back in comfort, she didn't like the fact that her master was upset. Schooling his features and bracing for what was coming, Mihawk walked through the entryway of the drawing room.
He was immediately grateful he'd taken the extra time to prepare for meeting Shanks, as he otherwise might have given into the urge to cleave off Red Hair's head.
Tamara had settled the pair in and been a respectable host. That wasn't what bothered him. It was seeing her smile at Shanks over the table while her cheeks held a slight flush of color. Mihawk hadn't viewed the swordsman as a rival in years, their competitions had smoothed out long ago. But in that instant, every driving desire to step above Shanks wrenched through his system. He wanted to see him humbled and bowing before him, hear him admit out loud Mihawk's superiority.
Mostly, he wanted Tamara out of sight of the red head, who despite his childish and energetic personality, somehow always managed to charm his way into everyone's good graces.
It only lasted an instant before Mihawk overcame the flood and spoke out loud. Tamara jolted, leaping to her feet and looked uneasy. Shanks and Benn turned to look at him, the latter's grin climbing even wider.
Tamara shot the pair a quick glance before folding her arms behind her back. He knew instantly that she was gripping the dagger held there, "Mihawk-san. These men claim to know you."
If he answered negatively, she'd probably attempt to attack them. She could be a fierce little warrior when needed. Shanks broke the tension before he could speak again,
"There you are, you old sea dog! I was wondering how long you'd keep us waiting."
Looking over at the obnoxious man, Mihawk pressed his lips together a bit more firmly at he moved closer, unsheathing Yoru and leaning her against the chair opposite Shanks, "Learning some patience would benefit you greatly. Benn, always good to see you."
The grey haired first mate inclined his head back, but said nothing as he sat. Tamara turned over the only unused cup and filled it, setting it near him. He waved her to sit down leaning back and studying Shanks as the man pouted at him,
"That hurts, Hawk-Eyes. Here I thought we were friends. Speaking of which, you should introduce your new lady. She won't tell me her name." He grinned towards Tamara, who flushed again, ducking her head away shyly.
Taking a sip of the warm coffee, he fixed a cool gaze onto Shanks, "At what point in our association have I ever claimed friendship with you, Red Hair?"
Beside him, Tamara suddenly inhaled the mouthful of liquid she'd been drinking, doubling over and coughing frantically. Benn came to her rescue, quickly snatching the cup from her hands before her hacking dumped the contents. Mihawk looked over at her as she finally cleared her lungs and stared at Shanks. Her face had gone pale and eyes were wide with disbelief before she pointed at him accusingly,
"You're a fricking Yonko!? How the hell did that happen?"
Benn laughed out loud at the dumbfounded look on Shanks face and even he couldn't quite stop his lips from forming an amused smirk. Tamara's eyes darted between the three men before she slumped back into the chair, pressing her palms against her face. Mihawk heard a soft groan come from her. Benn took pity on her.
"That is a question many have asked. As of yet, I don't believe anyone has found the answer."
"Benn! You're making me look bad again."
Mihawk arched an eyebrow slightly before nodding towards the pair, "Red-Haired Shanks and his first mate Benn Beckman. They are...old acquaintances of mine. Shanks, Benn...this is Tamara."
Shanks grinned brightly at her, "Tamara huh? Pretty name for a pretty girl."
He felt irritation bubble under his skin before he repressed it, taking a carefully controlled swallow from his cup.
"Did you come all the way out here to annoy me, or do you have some other purpose?"
Recovering from her shock, Tamara stood and looked to him in question, "Will your guests be staying for dinner, Mihawk-san?"
He deliberately paused at the question, appearing to think carefully before answering, "Much as I would wish otherwise, I suspect that will be so."
She nodded in understanding and started to leave. Partway to the exit, she turned back, "Virgil, come."
The black feline perked up from Shanks lap, jumping down and trotting after his master. Mihawk pushed down a growl as Shanks shifted in his chair, tilting his head and watched her go, eyes scanning over her form appreciatively. Once the petite blond was gone, the Yonko turned to him with a positively devilish grin,
"Please tell me you're tapping that."
The muscles in his arm tightened and Yoru snarled as the desire to grasp the black blade and swing it at Shanks nearly overwhelmed him. Before he could act on the urge, a fist collided with the red heads skull, knocking him forward with a pained howl.
"Oww! What that hell was that for!"
Mihawk noted that a sizeable lump was forming on his head, indicating that Benn had hit with a Haki fist. The tall male glared hard at Shanks as he sat back in his seat, "Pull your mind out of the gutter, Shanks. She's been abused."
To his credit, Shanks paled at that comment, eyes widening in shock and the always present grin immediately vanishing from his face.
"What?! How can you tell?"
Benn met Mihawk's gaze, a serious expression on his face as he tapped his right shoulder with one finger, "I'm going to assume you didn't leave that mark on her neck?"
The air crackled as black rage filled him and he didn't bother pushing down the energy of his aura. Shanks actually shifted a hand to his sabre, all traces of glee and carefreeness gone from his face. Turning a deadly cold stare to Benn, Mihawk spoke very calmly as tension filled the air,
"If your intention in coming here was to die in the most painful way possible, I will gleefully accommodate you, Beckman."
He didn't flinch from the threat, but did raise his hands up, "Just making a point, Mihawk. No need to get violent."
"Ah hell...Why didn't you say something Benn? Now I need to apologise." Shanks lamentation shifted his focus. He looked horribly guilty as he ran fingers through his signature locks. Mihawk narrowed his eyes at the former rival.
"What did you do?"
Now Shanks was the one who raised his hand, waving in a manner meant to placate him, "N-nothing...It was nothing, I was just being friendly."
"What. Did. You. Do?" Mihawk deliberately enunciated each word, making Shanks shrink back into the chair.
"I just put an arm around her, that's all. It was nothing, she didn't seem to mind. Like I said, I was just being friendly."
That knowledge stifled his anger, puzzlement and intrigue rising in its place. Mihawk blinked slowly as he studied Shanks, "You touched her without permission?"
"Uhhh...yes?" Normally the fearful squeak would have please him to no end, but his query hadn't yet been finished.
"And she did not attempt to render you incapable of producing offspring?"
Shanks was almost white now. His mouth opened and closed dumbly, not making any sounds, so he simply nodded. A minute of silence followed, where Benn looked between the pair with calculating eyes, Shanks tired not to crawl under the table and Mihawk momentarily stared off into space. Finally he picked up his coffee cup and took a sip.
"Hnn..."
A breath whooshed from the Yonko and Benn took his hand off the butt of his rifle. Mihawk, in the few moments they took to recover, had several thoughts running through his mind. Tamara had allowed contact from a stranger. A male stranger, whom she didn't know or trust. But more importantly, she hadn't flown into a frenzied state from it. There was a familiar clenching in his chest and his mind betrayed him for a few moments. Perhaps it was possible. Perhaps she could accept him.
Pushing away that thought, he looked between the two men, "I will assume your visit here isn't to plunder my collection again. Why did you come, Shanks?"
A rarely seen expression of seriousness fell over the swordsman's face. After a minute of quiet, Shanks finally spoke softly.
"Marshall D. Teach has defected from Whitebeard."
Mihawk paused in the act of raising his glass. Running his eyes over Shanks's face, deliberately lingering on the three scars across his left eye, he took another swallow of liquid before answering, "Isn't that something you should be happy about? Without Whitebeard's protection, you should easily be able to have you vengeance."
Shanks shook his head, shoulders slumping forward. For a few moments, Mihawk saw the full weight of what the red head bore upon those broad pads. Benn was the one that answered.
"It's not that simple. Blackbeard left the crew after he killed one of the Division Commanders."
"Then he's already dead, its just a matter of time."
"The Old Man's already sent someone after him. Someone he shouldn't have." Shanks stared down at the tabletop as he spoke, his voice vibrating with wisdom, "You and I both know what Teach is capable of, Mihawk. This whole situation, its just the beginning of something bigger than anything we've seen. You've been keeping up with what's been going on it the world?"
"Of course."
Shanks nodded, "There's something coming, something I've seen on the horizon for months. Too many new rookies that are just too powerful, too many challenges towards the balance of power. Something's going to break soon and when it does, all hell is going to rain down. It's going to change things, change them in a big way."
Mihawk let the Yonko gather his wits before speaking again, "Why does this interest you so much?"
"You know Fire Fist Ace? He was offered a Shichibukai position and shot it down."
"I remember. He was quite the young upstart if I recall."
Another round of lengthy silence followed, while Shanks seemed to age a thousand years right before Mihawk's eyes. Finally he looked up from the table, fixing the Warlord with a steely gaze that almost made him nervous.
"What I say next does not leave this room."
He held the Yonko's eyes steadily, inclining his head. Shanks had earned his respect long ago. He would honor his old rival's wishes. That and, he really wanted to know what was so damn important that Shanks felt it necessary to deliver this news in person rather than through a Den Den.
"Portgas D. Ace is Gold Roger's son."
Mihawk almost dropped the cup in his hands. Even his immense discipline couldn't stop the shock from crossing his face. Setting down the china, he took in a careful breath before speaking, "Roger had a child? I always knew the man was selfish, but that takes it a bit far."
Shanks didn't appear to take any offence to that, despite it being a jab at his former captain, shrugging heavily.
"Yah, well. Love is a hurricane, I guess. I knew Roger had a women, never knew she conceived till Fire Fist met up with me. Their just...too similar not to be blood. Ace can't handle Blackbeard, not in any way. And he's too damn stubborn to back off if I say something. Probably end up having him try to kill me. Which leaves trying to talk the Old Man into calling him back."
"You believe you can convince Whitebeard to do anything he doesn't want?"
"I have to try, Dracule. If I don't, we could be looking at a full on war in the future." The use of his first name from Shanks made him pause. The red head was one of the few individuals he allowed to call him that. It was rare that Shanks did so, which made this conversation all the more serious.
"You're a fool, Shanks."
"Maybe, but I can't stand by and do nothing, not with so much on the line. I just wanted to give you a head's up. You'll do whatever you want, as normal. But I wanted you to know."
Shanks was keeping him informed as best he could. He was right, the world was shifting. Mihawk had seen it as well. The reports from the Navy were getting more frequent, tensions were rising between the Marines and the Yonko, pirates were getting stronger and bolder, the Revolutionary Army was striking out more and more. Things were changing quickly. Something big was defiantly coming.
As quickly at the dark conversation had started, Shanks ended it with a cheerful grin,
"So do you have grog stalked up in your cellar? And what's for dinner? Oh, is Tamara a good cook? Good thing I left Lucky Roo on the ship."
Mihawk gave into the urge and pinched the bridge of his nose in sheer exasperation.
There we go. I certainly hope that was worth the build up and the wait.
I am hoping that it makes sense to everyone why I had Mihawk admit his attraction to Tamara first. In my mind, with Tamara's self confident issues and general innocence, it would be more indicative for Hawk-Eye to make the first move. After all, no one in society generally goes after someone of great status or position in the first go, the intimidation factor is always present. So, this made more sense to me.
And lets face it, there really is only one person in all of One Piece that could possible stand a chance in hell of competing with Mihawk for anything. There will defiantly be some rivalry tensions in the future.
Until then, please feel free to review the works with your opinions and support. Truly you guys keep me going on this fic. Thanks again and see you next time.