PotC fanfic

[Taika of Narfell]

My first fanfic in ages! Behold! Like many other movie-goers I've been caught up in a Pirates craze. And I haven't even seen At World's End yet. Hopefully I'll be able to in the weekend. *crosses fingers*

This fic will circle around the Dutchman and its crew, so if ye don't appreciate streams of harsh language and a slew of bad manners I suggest ye find yer entertainment elsewhere. I've set meself a challenge with this one. I'll see how well it goes.

Now, onwards to the prologue to the fic that has no title yet, because I've no idea where I want to go with it lol!

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The sun was sinking lower in the sky, and the afternoon trailed by slowly, as a gentle breeze wafted around a lone boat anchored at the reef. There seemed to be no other life than the occasional sea bird diving for one of the surface fish. The waves lapped at the small boat's hull in a comforting caress, as if reassuring it that it was not completely left by itself. All of a sudden the silence was broken by splashing and some very big breaths being drawn. The water's surface had been broken by a head crowned with long dark hair. The head, belonging to a young woman, moved towards the boat. She raised herself out of the water and climbed into the boat with the grace of someone who has done the routine many times before.

Standing up in the boat she slung her dripping tresses around to her back sending a shower of small droplets over the side of the boat. The brief drizzle on the ocean's surface was followed by the dull thud of a bag being dropped to the bottom of the small vessel. The woman sat down and opened the net bag only to pour its contents out. A horde of clam shells were strewn about her feet and she proceeded to open them one by one. A snort or a grunt once in a while marked her displeasure with the standard of her harvest, but after a while a smile began to decorate her tanned face. She had actually found a good many with pearls, her harvest had turned out far better than it had looked at first. And the afternoon was not even drawing to a close yet. She had time to make several more dives along the reef before she would have to head back to land.

This morning the prospects had not looked good. A few hours before noon the sun had gone black. It was an ill omen the shaman had said. A darkened sun meant suffering and misfortune for those who saw it. The shaman was often right in such matters, but now she was beginning to think he might be getting old. Her day was certainly looking brighter as she went along. If her dives continued to bring in the amount of pearls she had found so far, she would have enough to feed her family for a month. She could not believe her luck.

In all fairness she rather thought it was about time her luck turned. Perhaps, she mused, she had had so much bad luck already that the omen that boded ill for others meant good fortune for her. It would make a kind of odd sense.

She hung up a piece of cloth in the mast to shield her from the sun while she ate the food she had brought. She thought ahead while chewing on an apple. If she brought in as much as it looked like she would, she would be able to afford building a bigger hut for her family. They had lived in a dingy little place ever since the accident. Her left hand unconsciously moved to her right shoulder and traced the jagged lines that stretched unto the right side of her face. One could hope. Goodness knew they all deserved more than they had. And she would so like to see her sisters grow up to find the husbands she could never aspire to have herself because of her scarred deformities. Truthfully, she did not think it was so bad, but she was scarred, and people noticed it. It was so plainly visible, and that meant she was unattractive.

At first she had been bitter, but when she had put those skills to use her father had taught her she had begun to find a new love for life. Though perhaps not as much a love for life as it was a love for the sea. Diving for pearls brought her as close to the sea as she was ever going to get, and she loved every moment of it. The beautiful corals of the reef could take her breath every time, no matter how many times she had seen them before. The colours and their shapes, they were sculptures in their own right. She knew that once you had seen a coral reef, no carved wooden figure of god or animal could ever impress you, she knew from experience. She had found true beauty below the waves, and because of that she was no longer so concerned with the beauty she could no longer claim herself. She was content.

Licking the last drops of apple juice off her fingers she prepared herself for the next dive. Securing the net to the rope around her waist and making sure her hair was still properly tied up, she got ready to slide back into the water. On a sudden notion she closed the latch on the box in which she kept the pearls she had found. It would not do to lose them after all the hard work she had gone through to get them. Having secured the latch she slid into the cool water, took a deep breath and headed down to the side of the reef.

She swam through the water, enjoying the gentle resistance it met her with, and marvelling at the shimmering sunlight that shone through the waves above her. She headed a bit further along the reef than she had before, she seemed to remember seeing a colony that looked ripe for the harvest there. She was right. Nestled between corals and sea anemones a colony of clam shells sat on the steep side of the reef. This one was big. She smiled to herself while picking the clam shells off the corals and placing them carefully into her net. She wanted to hum so excited was she about her catch, but she would have to wait till she was above water again. Nothing could disturb the silence of the sea, the only thing she could hear was her own heartbeat.

She took good breaks between her dives. It was too dangerous to go down again too soon after a dive. She was eager to go and hunt for more shells all the time, and she wished she didn't have to take those breaks, but she knew that it would be no good to anyone if she drowned herself in her hunt. She had decided that the next dive would be her last. She had had a terrific harvest and she wanted to head home soon. Once more she kicked her way to the reef and gathered as many clam shells as she could get her hands on in the time she had. Just before she began heading towards the surface she noticed it. The reef had gone quiet. It was if possible even more silent than it had been before, and there was hardly any movement. Even the anemones had drawn themselves into their protective stems, and there were no fish in sight. She looked around her quickly, perhaps a shark was on the prowl nearby. If that was the case she had better get up to her boat in a hurry. She felt a panic rising in her chest but she stubbornly fought it back down. Panicking won't do any good. She steeled herself and headed upwards, while keeping a sharp eye out for the predator that had scared the fish away from the reef.

She broke the surface sooner than she had expected. She thought it odd that she had misjudged her depth so badly, it was not normal for her to make such a mistake. Then again, her sudden hurry would likely explain it, she had probably drifted upwards without noticing, while she was fighting the panic. A likely explanation. She swam the dozen metres back to her boat and grabbed the railing. Just as she was about to hoist herself up she saw something that puzzled her. The southern end of the reef was laid bare. The jagged corals stuck out of the water like dark sculptures and the water was slowly trickling off, she could hear the rush of the water from all around her. She mentally kicked herself for forgetting to keep an eye on currents and tides. She turned away from the reef and got a hold of the boat again.

As she raised her head above the railing she saw on the other side of the boat a sight she would never forget. A wall of water was heading towards her. It rose several metres into the sky, and as it closed in quickly she could no longer hope to struggle out of the water's pull and into the boat. When it reached her, time seemed to slow to a stop. She should have listened to the shaman after all – he knows his craft. If she ever saw him again, she would tell him. The boat was capsized and was thrown on top of her. One of the oars hit her in the head, she felt herself slowly blacking out. No! She could not allow that to happen. If she blacked out, her family would have no one left to help them. She had to stay awake.

She had to...

How silent the sea was beneath the surface...

...and how black...

[Taika of Narfell]

Maccus soon realised why the captain had ordered them closer to the coastlines and reefs. While they had been safely underwater, a tsunami had roared across the Indian Ocean. They were sure to find wrecked ships they could pillage, and perhaps a few new recruits that might actually be of use for a change. He pulled his lips back in a sneer; they had not had much luck with the new crew members lately. They worked as they were bidden, but none could be said to truly be assets to the ship and its crew. It did not make his job one bit easier. The captain rightfully expected more work to be done with more hands available, but with such useless hands as these it was hard to meet with his expectations. And he, Maccus, was the one to answer for the collective failure of the crew. Being first mate might grant one some privileges of rank, but he was still as much a slave to the captain's whim as all the others – he just had more responsibility for the success of those whims.

He turned his attention back to their search. Those who were not trimming sails all had their eyes on the sea hoping to spot a wreck to salvage. The captain had gone below before they emerged from the depths, and he had made no indication that he would be joining them while the search lasted. They were to simply pick up what they found and he would come and make his usual offers when he thought it was time to do so. Maccus wondered by which criteria the captain decided his doings. He had never been able to figure out just why the captain did what he did; why he ordered them where he did. As always he had to respect the man's knowledge of the seas, though. He had clearly known about the tsunami, and it was an obvious place to look for crew additions. Now Maccus would just have liked to know how the captain had known about the tsunami.

Perhaps there really was something to his claim. Perhaps the captain really was the sea – or at least so much “one” with it that he could somehow know everything that went on. Then again, even the captain could be surprised by events at times, so that did not seem to be the case either.

Maccus let out a frustrated growl. This was what he got for thinking too much. Absolutely nothing. This was the worst activity he could think of. The scouting. There was nothing to do other than keep a watch on the sea, and while he was waiting for someone to see something – anything – all he could do was think. And thinking never brought him anything good. It never had as far as he knew. It only brought more questions without answers. He was a simple man, he liked his world to be simple as well. And questions without answers did not aid that cause.

He was almost grateful to whomever it was that shouted and brought him out of his musings. Something else to occupy him was just what he needed. The shout was fully justified. What seemed to be a bark – or at least what used to be a bark – had been swept unto a reef. Maccus ordered the top sails to be freed, to only use the mainsails for the remainder of the way. Driftwood floated around the wreckage, he heard them make dull thunk-sounds hitting the Dutchman's hull as the ship slowly made its way closer to the wreckage they were headed for. Eventually he ordered the sails tied down and the longboats in the water.

He had Koleniko lead the salvage team. Ol' spikeface was only too happy to go scrounging for more or less dismembered, damaged or decomposing bodies. He doubted that any of them would have gone so far as all out rotting just yet, though. They had gotten here fairly quickly after the tsunami had struck. Not even a day's travel. He sniffed the air. The smell of death did permeate the place. He wished his sense of smell was as good above water as it was below. Currently being in command himself he could not go search for candidates himself, he had to stay on board the Dutchman and make the decisions in the captain's absence, but he would have liked to at least get the full palette of smells. He walked to the railing and saw the longboats off. The rest of the crew gave him a wide berth. He realised he must have been scowling at them again. It was fine by him that they were afraid of his anger. It made them leave him alone.

Taking another deep breath he enjoyed the smell of decay he had noticed before. He hoped the captain would come up and join them before the next salvage. He wanted to get out and about. He was not cut out for standing still, doing nothing. Even if it was just going through a wreck, at least it was a change of scenery. And looking for frails did also have the promise of having a bit of fun with some of them. Some had problems taking orders even during the first steps they took after having taken the captain's offer. And he truly did enjoy handing out a good flogging. A grim smile spread across his thin lips at the thought of teaching a new crew member the ropes.

The longboats were soon heading back. Koleniko and the others had only found five candidates this time. It would seem much of the bark's crew had been lucky enough to be flushed overboard by the wave that killed them. Overboard and away – safe from the temptation of attempting to evade death. They never spent time looking for drifters, they were too hard to spot in open water. Three of the five were deaders. Not surprisingly so. They had been in the water for almost a day. The captain would bring them to consciousness just long enough for them to consider his offer. The two others were breathing, albeit shallowly, and were quite without any awareness. He decided to let them stay that way. The captain would decide eventually.

Considering the seascape he decided to set the course northwards bound along the reef, thereby also getting closer to the group of islands he knew was supposed to be there. He hoped the wait would be shorter this time. He hated waiting. Always had.

This time his wish was granted. They had only sailed for an hour before another shout went up. It was soon followed by a disappointed howl. He soon discovered why. What had been spotted was merely a small sailing boat, possibly a lone fisherman surprised by the wave. Definitely not the place to look for dead or dying of any worth. Still, captain's orders had to be followed. For such a small vessel he saw no need to send anyone but Koleniko and Clanker. They would be fine on their own. They were to bring in everyone they found as well as everything else of interest. Boats were not needed for this; Koleniko and Clanker could swim there, and it was doubtful if they would find anything more than they could carry back between the two of them. With such a small open boat Maccus suspected that whoever had been on board would long since have floated away.

He turned away and inspected the horizon along the reef, hoping to spot something else. Something more. He was puzzled. Was this really the only fisherman that had been out? It made no sense at all, but he could spot no other boats anywhere in the vicinity. Strange.

“Sir!” Maccus whipped around at Penrod's call. “Sir, you need to see this.” He stalked down to where Koleniko was hauling aboard a body. When he got there he noticed the reason for Penrod's call. The body was female. Young by the looks of her. Unusual as it was to find lone women at sea he did not much care for it. Women were usually smart enough to decline the captain's offer, and he doubted they would be much good on deck anyway. That was all that really mattered. Hands that could not do their part were useless to him.

“She was tangled in the boat's sail and rigging, sir.” Clanker said. Maccus nodded. That would explain why she had not drifted away from her vessel. The seaweed-haired sailor continued: “We also found this.” He held out a latched box and opened it. Had he been able to, Maccus would have raised an eyebrow, instead he blinked and paused for brief moment. Clam shells with pearls told him everything he needed to know. A pearl diver, then. Her husband had probably floated off. Pearl divers were seldom out alone, not that it would have helped anyone in a situation such as this.

“Throw her with the others, the captain will decide whether to grant her the offer.” He never looked closely at her, but he could tell other crew members had. When he mentioned the possibility of her staying on board snickers and mumbling arose from some of them. Aye, there were other reasons it was bad news with women on board. Nothing but trouble would come of it, he was sure. He had to get them back to work before they had too many creative ideas about what to do with the drowned body of the woman. The captain would not be pleased if he could not keep the crew in line, and some of them were clearly already considering the possibilities of a recently dead body. He shook his head. No self control. None whatsoever. With a sneer he barked his command: “Continue the search, ye filthy landlubbers! We proceed north along the reef! Step to, ye half-witted clam shells!”

They found no more fishing boats. That fact still puzzled him. There were so many fishing villages spread along the coastlines here, it was not right that none of the fishers would have been out. He resolved to ask the captain about it, when he got the chance, he would probably know. Now he just needed to catch him in a good mood. That might take a while. Clearly the search along the reef did not pay off. He ordered them further out to sea, hoping to find a bigger vessel that had capsized. He would not leave the shallower waters completely, though, tsunamis were only dangerous where they rose up over the shallows. His decision proved to be a good one. After a few more hours of searching they found what proved to be a schooner floating upside down. The crew were always happy to go pillage the remains, and they were eager to get to it.

Once again he sent Koleniko off leading the salvage team.

“No, Maccus, you take charge of the salvage.” Maccus nearly dropped the spyglass at hearing the captain's voice behind him. He still had not gotten used to his ability to show up unannounced. He turned to face the captain.

“Aye aye, cap'n!” He answered in the affirmative. He was all too happy to get out and about. He joined the appointed group at the railing and got in the longboat. He sniffed the air expectantly, hearing the captain barking orders at the crew to lower the boat. Soon they were on their way to the wreckage. Reaching the capsized hull he ordered the boat secured and then he jumped into the water. He would not bother with finding an entrance through the hull, it took too long. Soon his crew followed him, diving under the floating husk of a ship. The shade underneath the boat hid most of the details of the ship, that did not bother him, though. He smelled his way to flesh and soon found his way to the aft cabin of the schooner. Two people were in there. Probably the captain and maybe the first mate. Whatever crew had been on board seemed to have been washed away. He gestured to Hadras and Clanker to drag the two unfortunates up to the boat.

Their search proceeded through the schooner and they brought back with them some unbroken crates of foodstuffs. And more importantly: four crates containing rum bottles. This might turn out to be a good day regardless of what it had looked like earlier. This would bring momentary cheer to the Dutchman. A smirk spread across his face. Simple minds, simple pleasures. And they did not have much else to occupy what free time they had. Not usually, he corrected himself, remembering the woman they had dragged on board. He sighed. Simple minds did not make for a simple life on his part. Making one last sweep through the ship's hold, he found another crate with rum, and one with cheeses still in their wax seals were revealed to his nose. He ordered them taken up and sent the boat off. He would enjoy a swim back to the Dutchman, it would allow him to get rid of some of that restlessness he felt.

He reached the ship long before the longboat and deftly climbed up one of the ropes they had lowered the boat with. Heading straight to the captain's side he quickly prepared a full report of the day's findings.

“Two still living - barely. Three o' the same ship who be dead. One woman, also a deader. Crew be bringin' in two more deaders now. Some crates o' rum and foodstuffs. And a box o' pearl shells.”

The captain nodded lightly, his tentacles writhing. Then gestured towards the woman. “What do we know about her?”

“It was with her we found the pearls, sir. She was probably out fishing with her husband when...” The captain interrupted him before he could say more.

“Her husband, ye say? Did ye find him?” Maccus looked at the captain, puzzled at his question.

“No, sir. She was alone.”

“Then how d'ye know she was with a husband of hers?”

Maccus had to admit he could not know that. He acknowledged that fact by nodding slightly and shutting up. Best not to say anything further on the subject, the captain seemed to be in an odd mood. Casting furtive glances at the captain he tried to ascertain a little more about said mood. He needed to know how much he could push an issue before he would even consider discussing the girl any further. Why the captain would even be interested in information about the woman in the first place was beyond him. Maccus held his tongue while the captain inspected the victims they had dragged out of the sea. Then the long boat returned and added the two last ones to the group, and to great cheer from the crew also heaved aboard the crates of rum. Rum would always be the most popular loot they could find.

“Wake them up!” At the captain's order a crew member attended each of the victims, though several attempted to attend the girl. Maccus growled at them, sending them away looking nervously at him. The girl was lying face down on the deck. Grabbing her right arm none too gently he flipped her over while pulling her up into a sitting position. While waiting for the curse's magic to bring her to consciousness he noticed a jagged scar on her right shoulder. It ran as a light brown river all the way onto her right cheek. It looked almost like her dark skin had been peeled off and the wound had been badly treated. Turning her face towards him, he could tell that it apparently went deep enough to make her right cheek look more hollow. She mumbled something he could not make out. That meant she was waking up. He pulled her over to the line-up that was beginning to take form. The sudden movement elicited a groan from her as she attempted to walk on her own feet without much success. Setting her down on her knees he held her steady by her shoulders.

The crew leered and jeered at her now that they could actually see more than just her back. Maccus was grateful that they still feared the repercussions enough that they had not dared to touch her before ordered to. Oh yes, this one would mean trouble. Mind, right now she was not exactly covered up. Thinking about it, Maccus concluded that she was probably diving for those shells herself. She was only wearing what would pass as undergarments, long narrow straps of linen cloth wrapped and tied in strategic places. Not the most fortunate attire in which to land on board The Flying Dutchman. The captain started his “Do you fear death?”-routine with the two that had survived, as they were far more clear-headed than the former deaders. That hushed up the rest of the crew; everyone wanted to hear the questions and answers. They all got some kind of sadistic glee out of seeing how others would react to the offers and taunts that they had all experienced themselves; albeit a long time ago.

“So... you do not fear death? Do you feel just? Do you feel ready to meet with he who shall judge you?”

The man nodded. “Y..y...yes, sir. I know, I have nothing to fear in death.” He looked nervously at the captain's pincer and gulped. “I fear dying, but I do not fear the result thereof.”

The captain chuckled. “Hear that? Here be a sensible one. Well, let us grant him the death he so desires!” The crew member standing behind the man planted an axe in his skull with a dull crack and he fell forwards to the deck.

The sound of his fall seemed to bring the girl closer to full consciousness. Her face still lowered towards the deck, she brought her right hand to the hand that held her left arm, placing it over Maccus' long claws. It was quickly pulled back and Maccus could practically feel the panic building in her body. He snickered. He might actually enjoy this a little before it turned into trouble. Flexing his fingers he called her attention back to the hands that held her. She did not move her head. Was she really that afraid? Pathetic. Sniffing lightly he found he could easily smell her fear. Such a delightful scent, it made him want to go hunting, but alas, his prey was sitting very still and was generally rather unassuming, not worth wasting energy on. Then her hand returned to his. With a light touch she explored his sharp claws. That was unexpected. The skin on her fingers was rough; clearly she was used to hard work, but her touch was light as a feather. Taken aback he repressed a shudder. What was he supposed to do about this? He had never had a captive curiously exploring the hands that restrained them – and he could not remember ever having felt a gentle touch on board the Dutchman, he quickly banished that thought.

Finally she looked up. Slowly, but she did look up and around. Maccus could feel the muscles in her arms tighten as she stared at the crew. She was scared alright. He grinned broadly as his eyes met Koleniko's, he could not let it show that he had been startled by her touch. The other crew member smirked with a brief glance at the girl, both were looking forward to what the captain might say to her, indeed what he might offer her.

“Do ye fear death?” The captain had moved on to the next victim and stood before the man, casually puffing on his pipe. The frightened sod was shaking. The experienced sailor looked more frightened than the girl between his hands. She was, in fact, doing a rather good job of keeping her composure. Maccus was sure she would be quivering like stays in a storm when the captain faced her, though. Not even the most hardened sailor could stare down Davy Jones himself.

“Yes, sir.” The answer came with a shaky voice.

“I offer to postpone your entrance to the afterlife with one hundred years in exchange for your service in those years. One hundred years before the mast. What say you?” The captain patiently waited for a response looking intently at the man who in turn looked around at the crew.

“No thank you, sir. It seems this was to be my time. Nothing good can come of cheating death.”

Another blow fell. Another body fell to the deck. Maccus felt the girl tense up again. She had probably never seen anybody die before this day. Such wonderful new experiences for her. He would be happy to introduce her to a few more of life's hard realities. Like flogging and keel-hauling. Smiling faintly at the thought of breaking in an innocent and untried soul he brought his attention back to the captain's procedures.

“Such acceptance...” With a sneer the captain turned to the next in line.

“I'll have your head, I will! The Company will hunt you down for this, I swear!” This one had amassed a bit of courage. Impressive, but altogether useless.

“Hunt me down for what exactly? For not being stupid enough to have me own ship wrecked by a tsunami?” Maccus tried to suppress a grin but failed miserably, as the captain managed to look genuinely concerned for a brief moment. His grin turned to a smirk as the captain's fake concern turned to a chuckle, which quickly grew to outright laughter.

“I take it ye are, or perhaps I should say 'were', the captain of the vessel we found smashed to bits on the reef. Alas, captains have a hard time taking orders themselves. Out with him!” No need to kill this one. The moment he left the Dutchman he would revert to the state of death they had found him in. Two crew members stepped up and threw him overboard along with the two whose heads had experienced close encounters with a heavy axe. Maccus had to hand it to him, though, he fought all the way. In vain, but he fought.

The next sailor was so scared by the captain's proximity that he recoiled before even being spoken to and attempted to scurry backwards. That only brought him in contact with Ogilvey's legs. Ogilvey calmly put his right hand underneath the man's chin and forced him to look up.

“Cap'n?”

The only reply he got was a gesture with the pipe towards the railing. He nodded and proceeded to hurl the man overboard. The doomed sailor had not even the strength to scream before he died – again. And good riddance. It was not like they needed crew members who could not do the job expected of them. Maccus had plenty of trouble getting the current lot to do any sort of work, and though many of them might envy his position as first mate, he would rather prefer not to have to answer for the crew's collective failures as well as his own.

As he looked down he noticed the girl's head had turned towards the captain. She was less tense now, though he could still smell her fear. He figured she had resigned herself to the question that awaited her. Perhaps the acceptance of death the other sailor had just shown. Wondering what she had decided upon, he felt more than saw her body turn slightly towards the last of the five from the bark. Interesting, she seemed to follow these proceedings as intently as the crew. He scoffed at himself, why did he care to notice anyway?. The captain's attention also turned to the fifth crewman from the bark. Anyone could tell that he did fear death, but the captain asked anyway. The response was no surprise. What was surprising was that the man took the offer of a 100 years' service.

“Welcome to the crew.” Were the only words offered him after that. Now allowed to rise and join the ranks, he was given the same welcome as they had all of them received – none at all. He slunk to the back of the throng and did a good job of looking every bit the underdog.

[Taika of Narfell]

As it turned out, Maccus' guess about the two they picked up from the schooner had been correct. Captain and first mate they were, and also strongly opposed to the treatment they had been shown. The former captain earned his death by being so outspoken, his first mate decided to follow his example in choosing death. That left the girl. Before the captain asked her, Maccus heard her mumble something. He could not make out all of it, but what he could make out was definitely not in English. That was just bloody great, not only would she be nigh useless, she would also have trouble communicating with the crew.

“Do you fear death?” The question came – language barrier or not.

She made a weak attempt at straightening her back, and though Maccus could feel her quivering, he had to hand it to her for trying. “No.” Her response had Maccus looking expectantly at his captain, who looked at her with a ponderous expression.

He exhaled a puff of smoke before addressing her again: “Really now? That's very interesting. Will you choose death then, since you do not fear it?”

“No. Death comes to all. I have seen much of it. I didn't like what I saw.” Maccus inwardly laughed. Very astute observation. She had just seen six people killed in front of her. And some cheek she had, too. All things considered, she had not been nearly as shaken by the executions as he had expected her to be, the mere fact that she was not screaming and begging for her life proved that she had some spine in her. Apparently the captain had drawn the same conclusion and made a decision.

“I extend the same offer to you as to the others. One hundred years before the mast. Will you serve?” The captain watched her intently as she turned her head away from him. Standing behind her Maccus had some difficulty following her gaze. There was nothing in the direction she seemed to be looking. Nothing except the sea. It appeared that the whole crew waited with baited breath, the ship had gone very quiet.

“Well...?” The captain prompted for an answer, taking her chin in his right hand and turning her face back towards himself. He let his tentacled finger run over her scar, and Maccus could feel her shoulders tense up once again as she straightened her back – this time with a little more success. This was it, she was preparing to die. She was going to turn down the offer. He was at once relieved for the trouble he would be spared, but also a tad disappointed that he would not get to break in this new recruit so obviously different from anyone else he remembered picking up.

“Yes.” He felt the tension in her shoulders turn into the strength of resolve. “I will serve.”

He barely caught himself dropping his jaw. This he had not seen coming. It seemed there might be some breaking in anyway. Now all he could do was hope it would be worth it. He wanted to shake his head at the captain's decision but wisely kept still. Her presence would make for interesting times, but more than likely also for trouble. And trouble was the last thing he needed.

“Welcome to the crew.” With those words the captain turned and walked towards the helm, nodding to Maccus to follow him. The first mate had nearly forgotten he was supposed to let go of the girl. He shook himself out of his stupor and mentally scolded himself. This was just a grand start. He quickly released the girl's shoulders and moved to follow the captain. Before he turned his back on her completely, he did notice that she swayed slightly as she lost the support of his hands. He smiled to himself. So... she had not been quite as confident as she had seemed. She had probably fooled every one of them, though. He would keep this to himself, one could never know when it might come in handy.

With the captain at the helm, Maccus stood by his side and waited for the next order, all the while keeping an eye on the girl. Standing there she managed to surprise him again. Jimmylegs ordered the remaining two bodies thrown overboard, and two of the crew made to haul them over the railing. Before they could do so, the girl called out.

“Wait!” They halted and looked at her.

“The boatswain ordered it. Do you challenge the order?”

She did not flinch. “No.” She grabbed the dead first mate and started stripping him of his shirt and breeches. “He won't be needing these anymore.”

“Nor do we need them, missy.” A coral covered face was brought up close to hers, but she did not back down.

“You may not, but I do.” With that she yanked the clothes off the body and took them for herself. “Well, I shan't be preventing ye from following orders.” With those words and a sweet, mocking smile she went to a corner of the main deck and pulled on the clothes.

Maccus heard the captain chuckle next to him and realised that he, too, had been watching the events unfolding on the deck. He decided that this was probably the best time to bring up the issue connected with having a female on board.

“She be trouble, cap'n, the crew... they won't be leaving her alone anytime soon.”

A pair of clear blue eyes met his own and he was startled to see the amusement in them. “I be confident, she can handle herself. And in situations she cannae handle, I be confident that me first mate will punish those who attempt to seriously harm a fellow crew member.”

Maccus had feared that answer. What was he supposed to consider “seriously harm”? He knew perfectly well that none of them would be attempting to kill or maim her. No, it would be something entirely different they had in mind. He sighed and resigned himself to the mass of troubles he was sure would come of this.

“Methinks ye're being too skeptical about it.” He glanced back at the captain and found him still looking his way.

“Why? She be but a girl. She don't belong here.” Maccus hoped his skepticism would prompt an explanation from the captain, but it seemed none was forthcoming. Surveying the deck he noticed that Jimmylegs, too, had seen the girl's behaviour with the two crew members cleaning up the bodies. The bosun was looking at the girl with narrowed eyes and a frown worse than usual. He could not punish her for anything, since she had not disobeyed a direct order, nor had anyone else. But it was clear that her nerve was not appreciated by the master of the cat. Of all the bleedin' crew members the girl could piss off, she chooses to cross the boatswain, whose anger lasts the longest and burns the fiercest. Why couldn't she just have settled for knocking Hadras' head off? Then they would all have had a laugh and she wouldn't be in trouble. But Jimmylegs? Terrific, just bloody terrific. At least the boatswain could not give her a taste of the whip for anything just yet, but Maccus knew the look on the man's face. It meant the boatswain would be hovering about the girl until she made a mistake.

He went through a stream of curses in his mind as he realised he would likely have to spend most of his time keeping an eye on the girl or the boatswain... or both. Curse the captain for letting this female on board.

His captain's voice pulled him out of his line of thought.

“She may be a girl, but I saw the soul she traded me for postponing death.” This caught Maccus' attention. He had never heard the captain speak of the souls of his crew.

“Her soul was... strange. Different. Innocent, yet not so. I be curious ta see how she will fare here.” The captain gestured with a tentacle for Maccus to look at the female crew member. She had now noticed the boatswain's glare. Maccus watched as the girl met Jimmylegs' gaze and cocked her head to one side with a questioning look. The boatswain sneered at her and turned away to mind his duties with a scowl that would have most crew members cowering before him.

“Let Bootstrap teach the other sailor the ropes. I want ye ta teach her yerself. And whatever ye learn about her, ye report back ta me.”

“Aye-aye, cap'n.” This was just bloody brilliant. No real explanation. Just more questions.