Chapter Text
You were walking alone along a dirt path, passing some interesting landscape. You’d been dropped off at this gloomy island at your insistence. The crew of the ship you were sailing on had tried to warn you about someone or something other who lived here, but you paid no heed. Even though it was overcast, you could tell that the island’s land would be suitable for farming. If it wasn’t, then oh well, you’d continue on your way. You didn’t worry too much about it, things always seemed to fall into your lap.
As you were walking, you spotted a large castle in the distance. Surprised, you changed direction to head towards it. You wanted to see if anyone lived her,e like the sailors said. You heard some screeching in the distance - maybe there were monkeys on the island? No problem, you were good with animals.
Walking towards the castle, you see that someone had been farming the land. Well, trying to farm the land. You can see someone was working diligently but made many rookie mistakes. You perked up even more - maybe you could be hired as a farm hand. That would be ideal since you liked farming and earning money but didn’t want to settle down anywhere for too long. You kept walking and saw a pale man in ornate clothes and a wide rimmed black hat (with a plume!) kneeling down to weed a bed of oil berries. He had a huge sword strapped to his back that surely wasn’t a farming implement. He looked a little incongruous with the setting, but you shrugged. You’d farmed in all kinds of clothes, you didn’t judge.
Walking up to the man, you said with a wide smile, “need a hand?”
The man looked up stared at you, yellow eyes boring into your own. He didn’t answer you but stood up, towering over you. He crossed his arms and continued staring intensely. He gave off an intimidating aura. Or, tried to. You weren’t scared.
You persisted, saying “You sure you don’t want help shug*? You’re not gonna get a drop of that crop if you continue like that.”
The man finally answered in a cold voice “whatever do you mean?”
“Well, you got girded toads in the bed.”
“And?”
“Girded toads mean you also got parsley flies.”
“And? Get to the point.”
You raised an eyebrow. “That is the point. If you got parsley flies, they’ve already laid eggs in the current berry crop. You gotta get rid of the current crop or the whole season will be ruined and you’ll be eating nothin’ but bugs. You don’t know much about oil berries, huh?”
The man didn’t answer, but the way he looked over at the berries told you you’d hit your mark.
“This your place?”
“I reside in this castle, yes.”
“You wanna hire me for the season?”
“For what?”
“As a farm hand. I been doin’ this a long time. I see you’ve been workin’ real hard, but you’re gonna need help if you wanna be eatin’ these vegetables by season’s end. I reckon I can get your farm growin’ a bumper crop if the creek don’t rise.”
“There is no creek on the island. There is, however, a large river that runs north of here.”
You were confused, and said “don’t need one, shug. So whaddyou say? Try me out for a few days and if it ain’t workin’ out I’ll pack my bags and go. No hard feelin’s. I don’t cost much, just room, board, and 20% of the crop’s harvest.”
The man was silent for a minute, but you knew you had him hook, line, and sinker.
“5%.”
“15%”
“10%”
“Done,” you said with a smile. You held out your calloused hand “it’s a deal.”
(*meant to be read as “shoog,” short for sugar. )
Mihawk’s POV
He had been industriously weeding his berry plants when you showed up, wearing a large sunhat, overalls covered in dirt, and a radiant smile on your face. You were a lovely looking woman who did not have any shoes on her feet or a care for her own life it seemed. He had sensed someone new was on the island, but waited until they revealed themselves before he attacked. You did not know how lucky you were - Mihawk had killed many would-be assassins sight unseen on the island. But he had held his hand to see what you would do. He had not anticipated that you would offer your farming services.
Indeed, you did not seem like a warrior - one look at the well used tools poking out of your pockets, the dirt under your fingernails, and your calloused hands suggested you were a farmer as you claimed. He did appreciate your advice about the berry crop, something he would double check in one of his farming books later. He spoke with you briefly, making a deal for your labor in exchange for some food and money.
He felt you posed less of a threat to him than the mandrills. But one could never be too careful. Faster than you could see, he unsheathed Yoru and held it to your neck. You took half a step back, but were otherwise unphased by his sudden assault. You frowned and said “well, if this is your version of hospitality, I think we’d better split ways now.”
“I am Dracule Mihawk, one of the Seven Warlords of the sea, strongest swordsman alive. I do not take kindly to those who would seek to attack me.” He loomed over you with the same intensity that made seasoned Grand Line pirates quake in their boots.
“Duly noted. I’m Y/N, I’m currently a farm hand for Dracule Mihawk, strongest swordsman alive. Now that we’ve made introductions, can you put down the sword? I don’t much care for knives to my throat.”
You had courage and a steely spine it seemed. Mihawk was intrigued. Most did not have the gumption to speak to him the way you did. Perhaps this farm hand arrangement would work out well.