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Mihawk refrained from turning to look at Crocodile in the eyes, caught off guard by the improbability of the entire situation. Next to him, Crocodile felt like bursting into an incredulous laugh.
What were the odds, really? Mihawk had been close to Red-Haired Shanks in the past, in some ways, and now the man's brother-but-not-really asked him to be his personal knight? And here he thought coming to Normandy would be peaceful.
He and Crocodile had both acted by instinct, having caught sight of the man's odd posture, his hands buried deep under his cape. They'd sent each other a glance, before nodding to the man. The minute he'd moved, they'd followed.
They were trained soldiers, after all, and had fought countless battles. Enough to recognise the telltale signs of a jittery soon-to-be attacker getting ready to strike. They hadn't really meant to save Buggy's life, not that they would have sought to accelerate it, either. But they simply didn't care about him. So, to be offered such a position, so suddenly, was unsettling.
Could they really handle such a position? Crocodile did not wish to be shackled to one place, and Mihawk wasn't sure he was ready to get close to another Duke yet. He'd had his own share of nobles, give him a break. But did they really have a choice?
Seeing as both men took time to answer, Buggy lost his confidence, shoulders slightly dropping. Right. He'd gotten carried away, as always. Guards used to fighting and clearly competent wouldn't want to be at Buggy the Jester's service, after all.
He was about to withdraw his offer when Crocodile spoke. 'To what privileges would we be entitled to, then?' He asked, frowning.
Buggy was taken aback, raising his eyebrows. 'Like, a compensation?'
Crocodile explained. 'Yeah, but not quite. We're already being paid, and being a guard in Falaise is quite uneventful. After what we've just seen, being your personal knight would put us in more direct danger, and getting a raise wouldn't be worth it, so what do you have to offer?'
Mihawk watched Crocodile negotiate with the Jester with not an ounce of shame in his body, and found himself quite fascinated. Even if no one really regarded Buggy highly, they still pretended to act well in his presence, licked his boots, and tried to profit from his status.
And yet Crocodile stood there, not giving a shit about decorum, and negotiated with a fucking Duke. Duke who actually negotiated back.
'That's an interesting input, soldier.' The discussion had made Buggy perk up again. 'And what would you make of two individual rooms, near my quarters for obvious reasons?'
'With a proper bed?' Crocodile asked.
Buggy nodded.'A reasonable one, I'd say.'
Crocodile nodded, looking towards Mihawk and raising a questioning brow. Seeing Mihawk's frown, he turned back towards Buggy, asking 'Could I have a quick chat with my partner, in private, before agreeing?'
Buggy was growing annoyed, but agreed, not feeling confident enough to tell them to get lost. He was quite certain he needed those knights, and for a strange reason, he felt like he needed it to be these two.
Taking Mihawk aside, Crocodile asked him 'What do you think?'
'That you're fucked in the head, that is.' Mihawk retorted, visibly pissed off.
Crocodile brushed off his remark. 'Counterpoints? Any reason to not take the offer?'
Mihawk looked at him with wide eyes, whispering his next reply 'My link with his fucking brother, as a start? And were you not the one refusing to get stuck in one place, obeying to stupid nobles?'
Crocodile shrugged. 'This seems fun. Plus, the minute I'm bored, I'm off. So?' He added, after a pause, 'That thing with the red-hair, could it really be a bother?'
Mihawk made a face, rubbing his forehead with his right hand. 'I don't know. I don't know. But he'll know where I am, if I become his brother's fucking knight.' He sighed. 'Okay, fuck it. Let's agree, and decide when the time comes.'
Crocodile snorted. 'You? The perfectionist, making a careless and thoughtless decision? What's happening, princess?'
'Shut up, fucking reptile.' He shoved Crocodile on his way out, stopping right in front of Buggy. 'Alright, we'll do it. Two separate rooms, beds, and quality meals.'
Buggy stayed silent for a few seconds before nodding. 'Settled, then. You can get back to the guard's room, I'll get you fetched later.'
After having informed Cabaji of the new arrangement, Buggy walked back to his own room, ignoring everyone he passed in the corridor. He locked the door behind himself, checking around the place to make sure he was really alone.
Finally, he let himself fall to the floor, back against his bed. Bringing his legs against his chest, he let his head fall on his knees. It was the first time someone so blatantly tried to attack him, and he had not been able to react, frozen, watching the moment unfold. It wasn't what Roger had taught him. One day without him, and Buggy had already failed him.
He didn't cry, because he didn't have any tears left after yesterday's letter, but he was slightly shaking. He closed his fists repeatedly, hoping to stop the shivers.
He thought of Shanks. He must have received the letter too, now. Buggy wondered if he was just like him, crying his eyes out at the unexpected news. Or maybe he was already wiping his tears, calling to his advisors to prepare an announcement. Buggy wondered if Shanks thought of him, too.
Buggy also thought of Rayleigh. Despite the sadness of the whole situation, maybe Roger's death would allow Buggy to finally be able to see Rayleigh again. Always busy with his King's affairs, the two boys had never been able to see the white-haired man again after their departure from England.
Sniffling, Buggy scratched the back of his head, getting up again. He would have loved to stay in the safety and comfort of his bedroom, but he couldn't allow himself to stay in for too long during the day. People already talked behind his back, there was no need to have any new rumours about how an attempted attack had led the Jester to lock himself up in a room for who knows how long.
People talked too much, and if Buggy wanted to let himself be heard, he needed to talk even more.
He grabbed his mirror case, checking his face. Satisfied after a few adjustments, he grabbed his hat and left the room. First, he needed to be seen in the castle, talking with courtiers and ladies. Then he would check with Cabaji to see if the arrangement concerning the two knights had been done. He would check the rooms himself. And then he'd wait for the two men to show up, hoping that they hadn't already fled.
The walk back to the guard's room was awkward, Mihawk obviously brooding, Crocodile thinking about lunch. The scarred man wasn't surprised when Mihawk passed the guard room's door and kept walking. He led them to the cellar, glaring at the servants inside and making them run away.
Once they were alone, Mihawk turned towards him, pissed off and frowning.
'Regretting already?' Crocodile asked smugly, which did not fail to make Mihawk furious.
'This is such a disastrous plan you dragged us into, I can fucking tell. I won't put my life on the line for the fucking Jester, you hear?' Mihawk said, jamming his forefinger on the man's chest.
'And you won't.' Crocodile answered tit for tat. 'You've seen the man from this morning, he was a complete amateur. Besides, you've kept harping on about how boring this place was, you're not going to reproach me for giving you the action you actually wanted?'
Mihawk started going back and forth across the room, shaking his head. 'Don't turn it the other way around. I didn't ask you anything.'
It was funny to Crocodile to see Mihawk this angry, when it was usually the other way around. Crocodile was the angry one, and Mihawk the detached and cold one. But he could understand the man's reaction.
He and Mihawk had met during some sort of summit between the Duchy of Aquitaine and some eastern territory. Both soldiers on each side, they'd ended up meeting in some tavern, bonding over their distaste of the served alcohol, and their longing for proper wine. They had talked after having found an acceptable bottle, and Mihawk had admitted his wish to leave Red-Haired Shanks' side. Tipsy and fed up by the Eastern Kingdom, Crocodile had suggested that they flee.
First, Mihawk had obviously refused. Hating the idea of leaving like a thief in the night. He might have some issues with Shanks, but he still didn't want to leave without a warning. Crocodile had agreed with him on this point, arguing that the Eastern Kingdom owed him money, anyway.
Still, they'd agreed to meet at the end of the summit, and to head north. Not quite a decision on impulse, but certainly not something both of them had expected to do. But it was a convenient agreement in which both found their groove.
The night before leaving, Mihawk stood in front of a drunk Shanks, announcing his plan to leave. The Red-Haired man had laughed, obviously not believing him. But Mihawk had stood his ground. Shanks had given him a purse filled with gold coins as compensation, sending him away in stitches. He had not believed him. Upon leaving, Mihawk had caught Benn Beckman's eyes, and it was clear that the Duke's personal advisor had believed him. His eyes told him that he knew. Had always known that Mihawk would leave, and knew that tonight was the night. But he said nothing. Did not try to stop him, or to reason with Shanks. He simply nodded towards him, as farewell.
Crocodile was not a curious man, so he never questioned Mihawk about his motivations behind this departure. All he knew was that, somehow, Shanks was the cause. The Red-Haired man was a sensitive subject for Mihawk.
Crocodile knew Mihawk appreciated his silence and his lack of probing.
Still, forcing Mihawk to be Shanks' brother's personal knight was, understandingly, daring. Mihawk's anger was justified, which was why Crocodile didn't retort. But they were now in a better position than they'd ever been in before. For Crocodile, at least. There was no way he could pass this up.
The rest of the day was uneventful. Buggy made himself available to his courtiers' grievances, most of them actually coming to him to inquire about this morning's incident.
Buggy kept on his facade, smiling and laughing at their jokes, all the while his mind was away. In the middle of the day, he realised he was feeling nervous about this evening's meeting. He had visited the knights' rooms and made sure that everything was in order. He'd even asked for meat at supper, despite having already had some for lunch. He wanted to make a good impression. He didn't want them to regret, at least not so soon.
Buggy retreated in his quarters at sunset, asking for supper to be prepared, and for the two knights to be fetched. He waited anxiously at his table, tensing at the sound of approaching footsteps.
It was to be expected, but it was still surprising to see the two men out of their fighting clothes, and without helmets.
The first thing he noticed was Crocodile's scar across his face. He wondered how he could have missed it. It was old, healed years ago, but it kindled his curiosity. He had long hair, for a soldier, reaching his nape. And then there was his left hand, an unmissable detail. It was hidden inside a sort of hook, and Buggy shuddered when he imagined what it could do in a fight.
At his side, Mihawk seemed remarkably more discreet. The golden cross around his neck, not so much. Buggy had not paid that much attention to his eyes, but the golden shade was striking. It made him feel watched over.
He made them sit at the table, and encouraged them to help themselves to the dishes before them. Crocodile was more eager than Mihawk, but the smaller man served himself nonetheless. Buggy did the same.
'No withdrawal?' Buggy asked, not without nervousness.
Both men shook their heads. 'As long as you keep your end of the deal.' Crocodile answered.
'Of course.' Buggy said with a tilt of his head.
They ate in silence, Buggy unsure of how to act. At the end of supper, he offered to show them to their room. Both men followed, and Buggy watched, smirking, as their eyes widened at the sight of the first room.
'I call dibs.' Crocodile decided, to which Mihawk did not object. The smaller man settled in the room closer to Buggy's.
Visibly satisfied by the evening, Buggy bid them goodnight, and retreated back to his own bedroom. Mihawk shot a last look at Crocodile, shaking his head, still not believing the whole situation. But that night, comfortably lying down on the bed, and on a real mattress, his back popping, he silently thanked Crocodile for the negotiations.
Some more lore-building! I'm looking forward to sharing the next chapters with you ahhhh, it's so exciting!
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