Hi everyone.

Well, this was a fun chapter to write. It has elements of both drama, fluff and foreshadowing. All the fun things. And I've been spending my weekdays re-watching the One Piece episodes. Also been sorting through my Magic the Gathering collection, which is huge. It apparently helps with my writing, as I've been able to get the chapters done rather quickly. Also it seems my chapters are getting longer and longer, so that's nice as well.

It's probably getting clear to everyone that the ending of the story is coming up. Still not sure how many more chapters are going to come out, but it'll probably not be more than half a dozen or so.

Hopefully I don't offend people too much with the religious implication in this chapter. It's going to make sense later on, I swear. Once again I give a huge thanks to everyone that's following along.

Please enjoy guys. Shout outs at the end.

The castle was even larger inside than it had appeared outside. Now that she wasn't struggling to keep up with Mihawk's much larger stride, Tamara had some time to look around and study the glorious interior of the structure. It was clear that the palace was host to dozens, if not a hundred servants. They passed several on their walk, people simply doing house chores. Cleaning the floors, dusting tables, straightening pictures and tapestries. None paid them much mind, but Tamara did note that several paused in their work to look at her curiously.

Tamara kept the hood of her cloak over her head. Despite what Adrian had claimed, she still felt uneasy in the castle. Maybe she was taking cues from Mihawk, who was still stiff and tense beside her. She still had no idea what was going on, hopefully once the two were alone, he'd explained a bit more. From what she could gather, there was something that Mihawk needed to do before he left. Some kind of ceremony. She wondered if it had to do with the Jaegath or perhaps with whatever source was its power. Either way, for now, all she could do was act as a silent supporter. Whatever was happening, her stance would always be by Mihawk's side.

Finally, they came to a heavy wooden door, flanked on either side by the same plate clad guards she'd seen around the outside walls and occasionally wandering the castle. Both straightened in respect as Caspian opened the door, stepping aside and bowing low, letting the two enter the room before him.

Mihawk placed his arm on the small of her back again, guiding her in. He was touching her a lot more than he normally did in public, which was unusual. Perhaps he needed the support and contact even more than she did. Once inside, Caspian spoke primly from behind,

"Should you require any comforts or services, please do not hesitate to ask, my Lord and Lady. I leave you to rest now." The Devil Fruit user duck his torso in respect, closing the door tightly as he left.

Virgil jumped down from her shoulders once they were inside, galloping off to explore. Tamara gawked at the room they were in while slipping off the heavy cloth covering, tilting her head back to look up at the elevated ceiling. It was beyond huge. From where she stood in the waiting room, the area could easily hold 10 people comfortably. A massive balcony led to the outside, two open archways grace either wall, leading to different rooms. Fresh flowers in vases decorated the tables, rich cloth curtains hung on the walls. Stepping forward, she tossed the cloak over a chaise lounge, turning in a slow circle.

"This isn't a room, it's a freaking house."

Mihawk had the gall to chuckle lightly, confidently striding deeper into the suit and unsheathing Yoru from his back, "It's what is expected from delegates and nobles that are hosted by the King. Anything that is not disgustingly and elaborately luxurious is considered an insult beyond forgiveness. Civil wars have been started on occasion because the suit arranged for a guest of the castle wasn't prepared in just the right way. I believe there was once an arranged marriage that was completely cancelled because one of the fresh flower displays had a slightly wilted lily in its layout."

"That is so stupid."

"Indeed, but it is what those of high upbringing expect. It is the system of classism, how those that believe they are better than others act and feel is their God-given right."

She huffed out a breath, still looking around at the massive suit they were in, "Well, I'm really glad you don't fall into that category. I'm going to get lost in these lodgings, I just know it."

His sword was set gently against the wall and he didn't response for a few moments. When he did, his voice was strained and somber, "Don't be so quick to overlook my mannerisms. There was a time in my life when I too expected nothing but opulence and servitude, considering all others to be creatures of filth and contamination."

She'd been raised in a small town, with no concept of etiquette or privilege. Her Mother had shown her the ways of a Lady, rearing her as one would a child of noble birth. But she'd only groomed her manners, not her behavior. Tamara had still been taught to view everyone as equals, to show kindness and respect to all and to only look down on those that showed contempt to others. Mihawk had always had a high-minded demeanor, but she'd always assumed it had been developed over many years of dealing with weak rivals that disappointed his desire to be challenged and vicious marines trying to kill him, before he allied with them. It was understandable that his viewpoint would become jaded after all that he'd experienced in the world. It had never occurred to her that his poise might have been cultivated from childhood.

Walking over to him, she slipped around till she was in front of him. He bowed his head to look down at her and Tamara smiled softly, "Maybe so, but that's not who you are now and that's all that matters."

He gazed down at her for a long while, before reaching out, pulling her tight to his chest in a fierce hug. Tamara relaxed against him, turning her head to press her ear to the flat plane of his torso. The steady, rhythmic thumping of his heart soothed her and she hummed quietly, closing her eyes and savoring the moment. Perhaps she should have been embarrassed about the fact that she was flush against his bare skin, but honestly, she'd kind of gotten used to the fact that Mihawk seemed to have an allergy to wearing shirts outside of Kuraigana.

After a bit, he loosened his hold slightly, but didn't release her, choosing instead to look over her head to the windowed door of the balcony, "You have questions."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious."

It made her smile wider when he only chuckled lightly at her sarcastic tone. Hopefully that meant he was feeling a little better. Mihawk parted from their embrace, sliding a hand around her waist and guided her to the balcony. Which in itself was large enough to probable count as a small room, albeit a narrow one. The sun was starting to set in the sky, creating a breathtaking rainbow watercolor of pinks, reds, yellows and oranges. With the height the castle was at, they could easily see over most of this side of the island all the way down to the ocean, the waves sparkling like jewels in the fading light.

Tamara leaned back into Mihawk, who loosely looped his arms over her front. They stood silently for a while, absorbing the sight before she finally dared to break the moment, "It's beautiful here. Your homeland is amazing."

"Mmm...it has its moments, I suppose. I'm...somewhat grateful that you're here with me. You help temper me, dissuade me from doing anything too reckless. I'm not sure that would've been the case, had I come here alone."

She laughed softly at that, angling her head back to look up, "You? Behaving recklessly? Perish the thought."

He smirked back, "Little brat. Mind your tongue or you might get in trouble."

"According to you, that something I apparently excel at."

"Indeed you do. I can't think of any other reason why you washed up on my island out of nowhere."

Tamara found herself smiling at that comment, even though they both knew the real reason she'd ended up on Kuraigana. She was surprised at the fact the memory didn't disturb her as much as it once had. Perhaps one day, she might even consider all the events she experienced to be a twisted kind of blessing. Maybe...someday.

Looking back out at the sunset, she spoke more seriously, "You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to. I know this is hard for you."

"No..." Mihawk's arms tightened slightly around her, tension filling his body, but he kept talking, "You need to know what's happening. The history and culture of this island, the foundation of what created and maintains Moldovien. At least the basics, for your own safety."

She swallowed a bit harder, "Is it that dangerous here? It seems peaceful enough, for someplace as isolated at it is."

"Not dangerous, just...there are aspects of tradition and lifestyle that may be difficult for someone not raised with those ideals to understand. You may end up accidentally insulting or breaking a code that cannot be overlooked. Even as my Mate."

Her breath caught a little at the word, a term that his brother had used in reference to his wife. Did Mihawk view her like that? Did she feel the same towards him? Right now she wasn't really sure and Mihawk kept talking before she had a chance to think to hard about it.

"Moldovien is very old. Probably older than most civilizations that exist in the world today. Its people trace their roots back to the unknown time of the Void Century. Our culture was established during that period, though much of the history of that time has been lost. What's known is that we survived through the turmoil and war of that period because of the Jaegath. It is our savior, our protector. It watches over and keep us safe from forces that would seek to undermine and plunder the resources and power of Moldovien, gives life and strength to the land and people."

Tamara exhaled a bit, shifting in Mihawk's hold, "You never answered me earlier. When I asked what powered the Jaegath."

"I know. If the choice was mine, I wouldn't tell you at all. It's not something I want you to know about, it puts you at greater risk than you already are. When the land was first settled, back when its people lived in caves and wielded weapons of stone and wood, something came into existence, born from love, faith and hope, settling deep within the heart of the island. It lives even today, the heartbeat and lifeblood of Moldovien."

"History tells that the clans of the island fell under a great famine, a time of woe and despair. Babies were born without breath in their lungs, men and women fell to hunger and disease, the plants and animals of the land withered away, leaving vast stretches of barren wastelands. Worst though were the invaders from outside the island. Savage, bloodthirsty warmongers that sought only destruction and chaos, murdering and plundering every resource and lifeform, leaving fire and death in their wake. The island was on the verge of collapse, its inhabitants nearly extinct, all hope extinguished like fading smoke."

Mihawk's voice had shifted as he talked, taking on a note of near awe and enrapturement, something she'd never heard from him before. Tilting her head back to look at him, Tamara saw that he was staring up at the moon, with an expression that neared reverence. She swallowed again. This wasn't just a history lesson, this was something scared to him, something he'd been raised to treat with devotion and adoration. This was his blood, his life, his heart. Something deeper than words could ever hope to describe.

"At the last sunrise, as the moon fell from the sky, the final survivors clustered together. They cried and begged for salvation, beckoned to the sky for mercy, prayed to any deity that dared to turn an ear. None answered...Or so they believed. As the last dredges of will began to drain from the people, a light came from the heavens. Small at first, tiny and nearly unseen. But it grew, second by second, minute by minute, hour by hour, till it filled the sky in a blaze of fire and thunder."

"We know now that this phenomena was simply a comet or meteor that passed dangerously close the planet's surface, but to our ancestors, this was an omen of the highest decree. Something that renewed their spirits and bolstered their hearts. One among the clans cried out in jubilation, swearing to restore the island to its glory and resurrect the people of its soil. And so, the Frist Prophet came to be. His true name has been lost to time, but his journey and ending are the foundations of which Moldovien is built upon."

"After the Starfall, as it came to be known, the Frist Prophet led a pilgrimage through the island, searching for the lost hope of the people. His faith, strength and courage gave heart to his followers, through the hardship and the battles. They followed loyally and without pause, even as many fell to the elements, wild beast and starvation. On and on they trudged, moving deeper and deeper into the land, powering through the calamities on nothing but force of will and faith in the belief of the First Prophet that salvation was close at hand."

"Near the end, when the moral of the followers waned at its lowest point, the First Prophet found himself questioning his own path, wondering if his choices had been correct. Struggling with his own judgement, he separated from his flock, isolating himself in hopes of finding clarity. It is not known what truly happened, but what is known is the results. The followers say that a great flash of light lit the air, that the earth trembled. The came the Jaegath, the shield that pushed away the outsiders of the island and embraced the people of the land. The First Prophet was never again seen, but what he left behind is the reason Moldovien exists."

Tamara watched the moon rising in the sky as Mihawk paused in his tale. There were stars beginning to dot the inky heavens, filling the air with dark, sparkling light. She swallowed hard, whispering softly to the man behind her, "What was left behind?"

Mihawk didn't answer for a long while, seeming to really not want to speak of it. She forced herself to be patient, remembering that she was still considered an outsider, someone not of the land that the locals held in such high regards. Even separated as Mihawk was, it was clear he still felt strong bonds to the island, much as he tried to fight it. Finally, he continued to speak.

"The most faithful and steadfast call it the new form of the First Prophet. An physical embodiment of his love, conviction, determination and desire to see the people and land prosper and flourish. Others refer to it as an artifact, a manifestation of belief and willpower, an entity of force that guards the lands. Some even call it a relic sent from the heavens, a gift for the favored followers of God. It matters little what it is, what matters is what it does. It is the power behind the Jaegath, the source that reinvigorates the land, restores nutrients to the soil, cures the sick and dying, rejuvenates the wild creatures of the island and surrounding sea. It feeds Moldovien even now, replenishing resources, tending to the ill, granting strength and vitality to the people."

"We don't know the name that the followers gave it, or what happened with the First Prophet that created it. All we know is it is our past and future are intertwined with it, and it with us. We are one and the same, an unbroken and turning circle. It feed us, nurtures and protects us. It is our greatest treasure, an item of unfathomable value. One that each and every person on this island would glad sacrifice their lives for and one that anyone outside the island would gladly destroy countless civilizations to possess. To us, it is everything. All we ever were and all we ever will be...The Left Hand of God."

"It must remain a secret to those not of Moldovien, forever stay as an unknown. You must swear to me, Tamara. Never will you speak of this place, of what you've seen or know to anyone outside Moldovien. "

He'd barely finished talking before she responded without hesitation, "I swear, Dracule. I won't tell a soul, not ever."

Strong, muscled arms tightened around her body, "I know you won't, but I needed you to understand the severity of what you've become a part of. The only reason you haven't already been killed is because you're with me. Anyone else would already be dead, the populace simply won't allow anyone to know the secret of Moldovien. It is too valuable and precious to us."

"I get it, really I do. It's...it's unbelievable. If I hadn't seen it, I wouldn't believe. That something so powerful could have been created from the faith and hope of mankind. It's beyond words. I'll protect it, I won't let anyone or anything happen to it. I promise."

Mihawk nodded behind her, tucking her head under his chin. That seemed to be something he enjoyed doing, "Good...I'm glad you understand."

She paused, head spinning from the overload of information. It seemed so farfetched. But she had no reason to doubt it, Mihawk believed it and he'd seen far more than anyone she'd ever known. Still, there was a niggling in her mind, something that she simple couldn't ignore.

"C-can I ask one more question?"

"Of course, Mi Pequeña."

Taking in a breath, she turned in Mihawk's arms, looking up at him. His silhouette in the moonlight was breathtaking, an image of dark power and confidence confined in a weak human body. She almost forgot what she wanted to say, caught up in staring at his near ethereal beauty. Shaking off her teenage, starry eyed self, Tamara struggled not to bite her lip before speaking, "Adrian said something about a...ritual? You're involved in that somehow, right? I-is it dangerous? Are you in some kind of trouble?"

A smirk danced on the edge of his lips before he chuckled lightly, the low growling rumble almost making her shiver as he tilted her chin back with his fingers, "You would focus more on that fact than the idea that the love and faith of a nation could spawn a weapon of unsurpassed omnipotence. You needn't fear, Little Thing. The Left Hand is the ultimate creation of life, an entity who's sole purpose is to encourage growth and development. It does not ask for sacrifice or pain. Truthfully, I'm not sure it even understands the concept of death."

"Good." Relief made her smile softly before she blinked a few times, "Wait...its...the Left Hand is sentient?"

He winced slightly, "In a way, I suppose. It speaks in emotion and feeling, though only to a very rare select few, and it has been generations since one has been chosen to be its Speaker. We really understand very little about it, as a whole."

That seemed unusual to her. If she was part of the island, she'd want to know everything about the great item, want to study and examine it in depth. But then again, she was looking at it from an outside viewpoint. Everyone on Moldovien had likely been raised to treat the Left Hand with the utmost reverence and worship, to believe it to be a literal deity given physical form. Who was she to question or judge that kind of commitment and faith? So Tamara buried her questions and doubts, her curiosities and fears. Mihawk wasn't worried, so she would follow his lead. If something happened that altered her opinion, she'd act then. For now, she would accept what she'd been told.

"We should prepare for my brothers feast. He'll be displeased if we're late."

"You don't sound like you want to go."

They walked back into the suit together and Mihawk grumbled lowly, "It's expected of me. Besides, I am somewhat curious to know whom exactly managed to tied down my dear brother. He never did show any interest in women when we were younger. I'll have a handmaiden summoned to help you get ready."

"I can handle it myself."

Mihawk smirked at her, "I think you'll find an extra hand is needed for this particular event."

The finely spun silk cloth felt very strange against his skin after so many years of wearing thick denim and durable leathers. It was the fabric of luxury, of privilege and wealth, something Mihawk hadn't wanted to experience ever again. Remaining still in his seat with his eyes closed, he resisted the desire to shift as the comb ran through his hair again. Behind him, Caspian stayed silent, meticulously grooming him as he'd always done when Mihawk had been much younger.

It was still unusual, having a manservant tend to him. He'd been independent for years, tending to his own needs. But in the Starsong Keep, as a Prince of Carpathi, he was to be doted on, to want for nothing. This was how it was and despite wanting to have no part of it, the insult of refusal would be grave. So he tolerated the care, pushing down his irritation with his immense discipline.

Caspian finished slicking down his wild locks, setting down the toothed instrument aside and gently placed fingers on his shoulder. Mihawk kept his eyes closed, standing without a word. The chair was pulled out of the way, placed aside and a rustle of cloth was heard. A heavy weight fell over his pads, secured to the front of his shirt. Only when he sensed the servant step back did Mihawk lift his lids and look at his reflection in the tall mirror.

He barely recognised himself. If not for his trademark double rimmed golden eyes, he doubted anyone else would know who he was either. Bedecked in rich finery of dark wine, white, black and gold coloring, accented by the long, heavy cape over his shoulders, unarmed and without a covering on his head, Mihawk looked almost alien to his own vision. He highly tempted to simply remove the clothing and return to his normal attire of the blood scented coat and jeans. It might actually be amusing to see Adrian's expression if he did. However, it would also be an extremely childish act, viewed as a pitiful tantrum. Mihawk was far to dignified to stoop to that level. So he would endure this charade, until such time as he could leave once again.

Turning away from the mirror, Mihawk moved to one of the large windows, looking out over the darkened island. The courtyard was lit with flickering torches, allowing the patrolling guards to see. It also gave his impeccable vision the range to glance over the area. Without looking back, he spoke out loud to the silent man waiting on his orders,

"Have you been tending to her in my absence?"

"Faithfully, my Lord, without fail."

Raising a hand to rub tiredly at his eyes, Mihawk struggled to push back the dark thoughts roaming his mind. He should visit her before he left Moldovien, if for nothing else than to say goodbye. After all, he was trying to move on, entering into a new relationship. It would be respectful and proper, to ask Maria for her blessing. Mihawk knew the two women would have gotten along fantastically, had the chance of their meeting ever come along.

A soft knock on the adjoining door drew his attention. Caspian obediently went to the barrier, opening it and stepping aside with a small bow. Entering in was a sight that took his breath away.

The dress had obvious been chosen to match his attire, but Mihawk certainly couldn't argue with the results. The dark red bodice hugged her small frame, wrapping around her upper arms and leaving her shoulders exposed. Gold filigree accented the rich color, the laced up front causing her breasts to be pushed up slightly, drawing attention to her chest. A large skirt billowed out, with creolins used to make it bell shaped in appearance with a long train that dragged behind. Her hair had been elegantly twisted into a series of braids, circling her head with a golden crown and a dusting of makeup on her face heightened every feature. Every inch of her looked like royalty, like a fantasy princess from a storybook.

Mihawk stepped forward, taking one of her hand gently in his, raising the appendage to his lips and kissing the back, "You are absolutely stunning, Mi Pequeña."

Tamara flushed darkly but managed to give a somewhat shaky smile back, "You clean up good too, though I think I prefer you without all," She gestured up and down at his outfit, "that. It looks off on you, I'm not sure it suits you."

He hummed a non verbal reply, silently agreeing with her. Offering his arm to her, she slipped a hand into the crook of his elbow and they started to head to the gathering. Knowing Adrian, it would be held in one of the smaller halls, a more private affair than most. Caspian quietly followed behind, giving them space.

"Is there anything I should know about before I meet your family? Some kind of taboo subject? Besides the obvious, I mean."

"I've been separated from them for years, so honestly, I doubt anything that I once knew about Adrian holds true anymore. He is a good ruler, the people trust and revere him. He is much more loved then my Father ever was."

She looked at him in concern, the bitter note and dark growl hinting at hatred drawing her attention, "You...didn't get along with your Father, right? You said something about it...a while ago."

"Vladimir was a cruel, harsh and petty man only concerned with his own ambitions and greed. He cared nothing for those under his care. I am not sorry he's dead, I doubt anyone will miss him."

Neither saw Caspian wince behind them, or the way he lowered his head in guilt, eyes darting back and forth, as though warring internally with himself.

The doors they approached were opened without question by the guards standing outside. Each one gave a slight bow as the pair passed. There was a rectangular table set with a seating for five, covered with an expensive cloth and meticulously arranged with elegant candleholders and perfectly placed cutlery. Three people were already present as they entered and all stood respectfully as the two approached, moving around the table to a more open spot for introductions.

Adrian escorted a tall, exceptionally beautiful dark haired woman on his arm. A woman who's belly was swollen with child, likely at least 4 months pregnant. Mihawk instantly felt his protective instincts rise at the sight of his brothers wife, a need to ensure her safety. On his left side a young boy no older than 8 years stood proudly, with shoulders pulled back and arms folded primly behind his back. The group paused near each other. Out of respect, Mihawk inclined his head politely. He refused to bow as was custom. Tamara did not share his poise, ducking into a smooth curtsy.

"Welcome," Adrian greeted warmly, turning to the woman beside him, "May I introduce my Queen and Mate, Kathryn and my eldest, Andrei. My Queen, my brother, Dracule and the Lady Tamara."

His voice held tones of reverence that Mihawk had almost never heard from the man before, his eyes shining with adoration. Mihawk realised that his brother was well and truly in love with this woman. A massive change from how they'd been raised, taught to ignore emotion and focus only on purity of blood. Bending to press a kiss to Kathryn's hand, he spoke earnestly.

"A pleasure, my Lady. Might I ask the name of your House? I do not recall you as an acquaintance from my youth."

Kathryn took no offense from his question, smiling softly and speaking with an accent that was most defiantly not of noble birth, "You would not, my Lord. I have no House to speak of. My resident is from Weldrake."

"You are common born? That is...unexpected." Mihawk had to use a lot of willpower not to blink rapidly, keeping his face impassive, though he couldn't quite stop his eyebrows from raising up. Turning his attention to Adrian, he smirked slightly, "I cannot imagine Father agreed to that arrangement willingly."

Adrian laughed lightly in response, "Indeed not. Had you not already been gone from Moldovien, I suspect I would have been instantly disowned. It was quite the scandal, you would have enjoyed it."

Despite the tension still lingering between them, Mihawk couldn't quite stop the chuckle from leaving his chest as Adrian raised Kathryn's hand and kissed the palm. That his brother had fallen in love and married someone not of high born status was something Mihawk never thought would happen. Adrian had always followed in their Father's footprints, believing that keeping the lineage pure was essential to preserving Moldovien. He was very interested to hear what had happened to change the elder's mindset. Young Andrei had apparently held in his excitement for as long as he could and bounced in place, breaking his princely demeanor, chattering almost breathlessly,

"Are you really the 'Greatest Swordsman's in the World'? I heard you can cut mountains in half, is that true? Do you really have a sword the size of a man? Can I see it?"

"Andrei, breath..." The King placed a hand on the boy's head, trying to calm his delirious elation. The ebony haired child flushed in embarrassment, ducking his head but still grinned in jubilation, almost vibrated with excited energy. Adrian looked down with pride at the child before glancing back at Mihawk, "My apologises. Andrei has been positively ecstatic since learning you arrived."

Tamara's shoulders shook as she held in her laughter, covering her mouth, watching the encounter with a warm expression. Mihawk smirked a bit, bending down on one knee so he could look the Andrei in the eye, "Has your Father taught you the art of the sword, young Prince?"

Andrei eagerly nodded, "Yeah! Right now, I'm working on Ittōryū and I'm really good! Father says if I keep getting better, I might be able to practice Nitōryū!"

"Mmm, 'Two-Sword Style' is difficult to master, it takes a great deal of co-ordination to become skilled at it. Let's see your stance."

The over stimulated child leapt at the order, turning to the side and shifted his feet, holding arms over his torso as though gripping an invisible sword. Mihawk studied him for a moment, before adjusting his elbows slightly, nudged his knees in to a slightly deeper bend and slide his left foot closer in alinement with his right.

"Practice this position, it will cover vulnerable areas and improve your balance. It is the first step in learning to wield two blades, if that is what you want."

Andrei looked absolutely thrilled at the advise Mihawk gave, looking at the hawk-eyed man with utter devotion and admiration, mouth opening to natter out another barrage of words. His Father laughed a bit, patting his son's head and stopping the chatter, "Perhaps your Uncle might offer you a few lessons in the dojo if you ask politely, Andrei."

Gasping out loud, the boy's eyes positively sparkled in response as he clapped his hands together, "Really!? Will you Uncle?"

Mihawk rose back up, trying not to wince. It was odd, hearing the child call him that, though not unpleasant, "Perhaps. I'll see if time allows it."

Kathryn choose to intercept her son's enthusiasm, placing hands on his shoulder, "Don't be rude, Andrei, remember your manners. Come now, lets prepare for our meal, shall we?"

The young boy managed to curb his excitement, looking up at his Mother with bright eyes. Mihawk sensed a shift in Tamara's aura, quickly glancing at her. She looked at the scene with a small, sad smile, blinking quickly to clear a sheen of moisture from her eyes. Reaching out, he took her hand gently, tilting his head in question. She shook hers back at him, her energy stabilizing. He realised she was reacting to the intimate relationship of the royal family, the tender words and soft affections likely reminding her of what she'd lost.

Moving to the table, he pulled out Tamara's seat. Both waited till the royal family had sat down before mimicking them. There were certain protocols he still instinctively followed, training from his youth that he couldn't quite overcome. Sitting down before a King and Queen were settled was one of them. As the group settled in, servants appeared, silently filling glasses and placing decedent, rich meals before them.

Kathryn was a bright, friendly female, polite and curious of Tamara, engaging happily in conversation, "So, Lady Tamara. How did Dracule and you meet? If I am permitted to call you that, my Lord."

"Of course, you are family, after all." He responded easily, somewhat distracted with sampling the offered wine with a critical palette. A homegrown vintage, with a rich, expresso nose to the bouquet. Tamara placed her napkin over her lap primly. She seemed to think carefully before responding to the Queen. Finally she shrugged lightly,

"He saved my life."

Mihawk blinked at the blunt answer and Kathryn looked a bit stunned as well but recovered quickly, delicately slicing into her meal, "Really? Well, that would explained your connection. Such an act cultivates close bonds."

"Yes, it does. Please feel free to call me Tamara, I'm not of any noble birth."

"Nor am I, so you will call me Rynn. I prefer it over my full name."

The two women smiled at each other, caught up in their conversation. Mihawk found himself inherently liking Kathryn. She was so unlike most of the high born women that had flocked to him when he'd been young, fluttering and fighting to get his attention. Maria had naturally been an exception. He pushed that thought aside as Adrian addressed him.

"I must say, Dracule, you're being much more civil than I expected."

Mihawk sent a cold glare to the King, "There's little reason to constantly fight, as you said. I'm here now. Once its done, I will leave again."

"You won't stay, Uncle? You've only just arrive."

Adrian gently chastised the young boy, "Now, Andrei, you agreed not to pester your Uncle. He's been away from the island for some time, its only naturally he'd feel out of place after so long."

"But..." the juvenile frowned unhappily, looking up to his Father for guidance, "You always say no one is ever far from Moldovien, that we are all one circle. Does that not apply to Uncle as well?"

Tamara saved either man from having to explain things to the young boy, "I'm afraid its my fault, Andrei. The island I'm from is very small, and your Uncle has been showing me other parts of the world. I've gotten a bit selfish about it, but I'm sure you can show me all the wonderful things on Moldovien while we're here, can't you?"

Quickly distracted, the young prince happily exclaimed his agreement, chattering rapidly to the pretty blond. Adrian leaned back, looking over at Tamara before leaning closer to Mihawk, lowering his voice, "I like her, Dracule. Immensely."

"I require neither your approval or permission to choose my partner, Adrian. You'd do well to keep your distance, I'll not have her involved in this."

The King winced, looking like he wanted to say something, but chose not to, simply ending the private conversation quickly, "We'll speak more once the women retire."

Mihawk turned away, more curious about his newly discovered Sister-in-Law, "So tell me, how exactly did you meet my brother?"

"I slapped him."

Tamara almost choked on her meal as she fought to avoid laughing and Mihawk merely stared at the woman in surprise, "I beg your pardon?"

Adrian didn't bother holding in his glee, chortling in response as he took Kathryn's hand, "She mistook me for a high-handed noble that was unjustly taxing her village. I'd travelled to Weldrake to investigate the accusations personally and Rynn was rather outraged at the newest demand from the House tasked to oversee the area. It was...quite the encounter."

Tamara broke down into a fit of giggles and even Mihawk couldn't stop himself from smirking slightly. The meal passed by quickly, with pleasant conversation all around. Despite everything, Mihawk rather enjoyed himself, able to push aside old resentments for a time. Eventually, as the group talked among themselves, Kathryn couldn't hide a wince from crossing her face. Adrian caught the expression, rising in his seat, which prompted both him and Tamara to stand as well.

"You've pushed yourself enough for one night, my Love. You should rest, its not healthy for you to be up so late in your state. Andrei, see your Mother to her room."

"Yes, Father."

Kathryn sent a dirty look to her husband, but rose obediently, "I'm pregnant Adrian, not crippled." Huffing slightly, she looked to Tamara, "Would you join us? I'm sure the men have some things they'd like to discuss out of range of our sensitive ears."

His Lady looked to him, hesitating. He gave a nod and she smiled back. Mihawk watched the two women leave, moving his head towards Caspian, who bowed and followed behind them. Now alone with his brother, he hardened his expression.

"So have you told your Mate the reason we are so segregated?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Dracule. I've no secrets from Rynn, she knows what I know. I get the impression such honesty is not yet something you've managed to achieve."

Glaring with icy eyes, Mihawk snarled back, "I do not linger in the past, it is pointless."

"Yet you still do not forgive me, that seems rather counterproductive."

Adrian looked calm, something the Mihawk was struggling to mimic. His fists clenched at his side and he desperately wished for a blade to be in his hand, "You know full well why I chose to take the Separation Vow. If I recall correctly, you did little to stop me from leaving."

His brother flinched hard, breaking his gaze and looking towards a wall, "I thought it was what you needed, brother. I have only ever wanted you to be happy. I know that after Maria died..."

"Don't!" Mihawk's voice raised in a growl that had the stationed guards shifting in alarm. He ignored them, "You have no right to speak her name, not after what you did."

Adrian raised his hand up in offering, a gesture to placate him, "Mistake were made. She chose to offer herself to the ritual, willingly and without fear. None of us ever thought...that would happen. It was an accident, Dracule, a terrible, tragic accident."

Golden eyes closed in pain as memories rose up and he turned his face away, "You should have stopped it, preventing it from ever happening in the first place."

Now his brother's face hardened as he frowned, "Do you not believe each person is responsible for their own choices? Maria wanted to help Moldovien, protect her home, protect you. I regret what happened more than anything in my life. No amount of anger or resentment you feel towards me will ever match my own guilt. I will die with that burden on my shoulders. If you must hate me for that, so be it. But take the time to consider what she would have wanted, what her choices were. Because despite your selfishness, she gave her life so you could live on."

Mihawk lunged forward before he could stop himself, hand outstretched to grab the front of Adrian's shirt, lifting the man onto the balls of his feet. His brother's only response was to wave a hand through the air. Mihawk realised through the red haze that he'd been signaling the guards to stand down, who'd started to rush forward with weapons drawn at their King being assaulted. Shaking with rage, but finding himself unable to actually strike his brother, Mihawk trembled in place.

Adrian grasped his wrist in a firm hold, pulling away his arm. Unclenching his fist, Mihawk managed to step back as the dark haired man straightened his clothing. Once his attire was proper again, the King regally looked down at him.

"Return to your Mate, Dracule. The preparations will be finished by tomorrow night. I suggest you take the time between to reconsider things, perhaps reconnect with your roots. You may find a new perspective of enlightenment."

Mihawk remained frozen in place as Adrian swept from the room. Now completely alone, without a soul in sight, he buried his face in his hand, shoulder shaking as he fought back tears of agony and frustration.

So I hope everyone liked this chapter. Got to meet Mihawk's family, learn a little about his homeland's past and why Mihawk left in the first place. Probably going to be a lot more drama in coming chapters. Hope everyone's ready.

In the mean time, here's my shout outs.

Venom Lady: Well, I'm glad I'm keeping you on edge. Hopefully this chapter helps ease it slightly...right before it gets amped up again.

WhiteyWolf26: Don't worry about the timeline, I intend to keep to cannon event. With how things progress, I figure there's about 4-5 months before Marineford goes down. Things will be settled in Moldovien by then.

Guest: So glad you like how I've made Mihawk's homeland.

Douchaa: Hopefully this helps out a little. Its still a little vague, I know, but I've done that on purpose.

dragonfire-217: Mihawk might get the chance to let loose, we'll have to see.

Cookie-koko: I hope you liked little Andrei, I had fun creating him. XD

FluffySnowleopard: OMG, I'm sorry to hear about your teeth. Been through that, I know it sucks. But I'm happy you felt better once you read my chapter, that really means a lot. Feel better Snowy. :)

TheComprehensiveJellyfish: Always a pleasure to have you along Jelly. Glad you're enjoying it.