Fantasy under the black flag [closed]

[desti]

“The Drunken Sailor” was full of life with, fittingly, drunken sailors.

Elizabeth maneuvered between the many tables with her tray of cups, the liquid inside of them sloshing around dangerously. Her feet lead her to the very end of the bar where a group of rowdy, shanty-singing pirates sat.

Nassau was a safe haven for them. In any other port city they might be taken captive for their crimes. Here, they were as free as they were in the seas. Well, as long as they don't cause problems in the streets, but Nassau had a way of clearing its streets from rats.

“Your last round. Father told me to cut you off before you drown yourselves in ale,” Elizabeth said, placing the tray on the round oak table.

“Love, I'd rather drown myself in you,” the nearest of them grabbed at her skirts to which she replied with a hard smack against his cheek, “ah! She hit me!”

“I'll do more than that if you don't learn to keep your mouth shut,” Elizabeth said.

“I do like my women with a bit of fight in them,” a man with a cloth covering one eye said. His breath stank of ale and rot.

“And I like my men with a full set of teeth, Billy.”

Elizabeth lead a strange relationship with the pirates. They were harsh men, often times very dangerous, but she found something appealing in them. Pirates were harsh and mean, the only nice things they'd ever said to her had been about how they'd like to spend a night with her. There was nothing romantic about them, yet she found a strange wish to be amongst them.

Often times Elizabeth found herself sitting behind the bar and watching the men. Unlike her they were free and happy, they weren't tied to anything but their ships. Her Father was a nice man, but her life was tied to this bar. The pressure to find a husband and begin a family made for many sleepless nights as well.

In the sea she could be free. What would she care if she'd drown or get shot down? The feeling alone of being her own woman would be enough to make her happy for a lifetime.

A woman on a ship? That was a silly thought, but it was so exciting at the same time. The men here knew her too well, though. If they saw her disguised they would see through it immediately. And then… she didn't want to think about it.

But when she day dreamed about it, the flaws of it all escaped her. The thought of freedom was so sweet, so pure… it outweighed any bad things that could happen to her on deck. The taste of it was so tempting… if only she could find a good moment to take a bite of it.

“Wonder what the old Ronald has to say tomorrow,” Billy said as Elizabeth gathered their empty cups from the table and set them on the now-cleared tray, “said it was important. I mean, look around you, every damn pirate ship that’s close enough is docking at Nassau to hear him.”

“Some bullshit again,” the youngest man, Jonathan, said while sparking a light to his pipe, filling the air with the smell of tobacco, “remember last time? Old shithead Ron swore to his mum’s grave that he fucked --”

“If I hear that story again, I will put this blade between your eyes,” the man that had grabbed her groaned.

“Ron speaks a lot of shit, but it sounded genuine when Rotten Robbie told me,” Billy shrugged, “said something about England. Something with politics, money, something Ron is too dumb to think of.”

“Let it be so… but Ronald will hang if he gets us all here for nothing,” Jonathan shrugged, blowing smoke out of his nose and mouth, “even ‘The Silence’ is coming.”

Billy spat out his ale, “you’re shitting me.”

“Afraid not,” Jonathan laughed, “Captain Brock is sailing here, I know.”

“How?”

“If I told you, I wouldn’t be special anymore.”

“You little shit, best tell me before --”

But Elizabeth didn’t hear what the man would do to Jonathan as she was half-way back to the bar by then. Her heart was racing, her mind stormed with ideas.

Everyone knew ‘The Silence’ and everyone knew Captain Brock. They said he was the Devil of the Seas - no man wished to cross him and his crew. If you saw his banners, all you could do was kneel and say your prayers to whatever God you worshipped.

A legendary Captain and his terrifying crew.

A Captain and a crew that had never set foot in ‘The Drunken Sailor’.

A Captain and a crew that had never seen her face.

A chance.

 

[Atrophia Sanguinis]

Eyes squinted against the harsh sun, Thomas watched as they approached the port of Nassau. This whole journey had been the only reason why his men had stopped getting antsy. The little brawls for sacks of coin lost over card games hadn't happened since they had made course for this island. They hadn't a good bounty in enough weeks to make his men grow pathetic in their greed, so once Thomas caught wind that rich news, gold rich that is, was going to be released to Nassau, he set the course. His crew had never been and were excited by the idea of a free port for pirates and the potential coin.

"Brock, you won't regret this." Lucky, the Quartermaster of 'The Silence', assured as he came up next to him on the quarterdeck. He was an older gent, shorter but larger than Thomas with a few scars marring his face from the time a barmaid broke a bottle throwing it at him. Lucky said they were from shark teeth rather than a lass. The crew knew otherwise and joked about how he was lucky to have his head when they were away from unknowing ears.

"The last time you said that, we were stuck on an uncharted island for a week without fresh water." Thomas looked at the older man with some fondness despite his words. The two were friends. In fact, it was Lucky that got him running smoothly among this rabble. Before, in another life, Thomas had been the son of a noble man and had been in the navy. He had to really toughen up over the past decade, earning respect with his military skills but more so his experience chasing and sinking ships now as a bounty hunter.

Lucky chuckled, his hand traveling up to his balding head as he tried to change the subject from past faults. "Well, at least this island has got water, grog, and a brothel."

Thomas gave him a reassuring pat on the back. "Yes, the men will love you for it."

"Did I hear somethin' 'bout a brothel?" Leslie, or Les, asked. Although he typically dealt with the sails, Les was another large political figure on the ship only because he bullied his way up to it. Respect didn't back him like it did Thomas but he was still a threat.

Lucky confirmed with a grunt and nod, not entirely a fan of Les like some on the ship.

Les grinned, soured teeth exposed. "Somethin' to look forward to, eh? So what's this thing being said here, Captain?" His attention turned to Thomas.

"If I already knew, we wouldn't be here." Thomas said simply, not at all annoyed by a stupid question at this point. They happened so often, he let the men wallow in their nearsightedness and lean on him for guidance. But Les was clever in the way rats were, having a sixth sense of when something wasn't particularly going their way. His grin faded as Thomas stared him down calmly before he jutted out his chin and went to share the news about women being on the island to the rest of the crew.

"We ought to leave him here before he causes real trouble." Lucky grumbled.

"The only time we could get away with it is when he and the whole crew are in the brothel." Thomas started to move to help get the ship docked. He noticed all the other ships and couldn't help but think miserably about how they just might have competition depending on the news.

Lucky waved a dismissive hand. "It's a pirate port. We can hire another crew."

"With what coin?"

A pause. "Fair point."

Once they were docked and security shifts were decided, Thomas and the majority of his crew made landfall. There were tents pitched all along the beach already, men filing around the makeshift city. They didn't look at Thomas directly, only eyed him and his crew as they passed through. His mahogany hair was slicked back with grease from a week without bathing and he wore a long coat over a plain sweat-stained shirt and trousers. Thomas looked and smelled the part that his reputation had earned him, a devil. A devil that wanted a bath deep down.

They made it into the town just as people began to gather around a man on a platform.

"Look at that, timing." Lucky puffed up proudly. Thomas merely shook his head at his friend, a whisper of amusement on his face.

"This better be good, Ronald!" Someone threatened in the crowd.

"Oh, aye! It is!" The man, Ronald, shouted. "Can ye shut it for a second to hear?" Grudgingly it seemed, the crowd grew quiet enough for most to hear the man.

"England has given out a contract for a crew to perform! A pirate crew! It's some political mess but if the crew delivers what that huge whore wants, they can walk England pardoned men!" The crowd instantly turned into an uproar. Tom's vision went blurry. Pardoned? This was an impossible chance.

"Yer lying!" Someone spat. Ronald shouted back something lost in the waves of shouts but he held up a paper. A man stepped up next to Ronald and snatched it from him, examining the paper himself.

"He's right!" The man called out, silencing the crowd once more. "England wants a pirate crew to steal a shipload of gold from Spain in exchange for the Crown's pardon."

A second party confirming the news, the crowd turned to one of whispers and low voices. Already, everyone was plotting against each other. Already, Thomas could taste freedom. To be back home and see his family was something he had wished for quietly the past decade. Sure, his father might ignore him but his mother would welcome him home with open arms. Maybe his older brother had taken over the family business and his sister had married. Hell, Thomas would suffer one of his mother's parties if it meant he could be home.

"Brock?" Lucky asked him, summoning him back to the present. Thomas blinked and looked at him before he scanned the crowd.

"Start restocking the ship with what we can afford. Tell the men we leave at dawn. I need to think." Thomas slipped away, weaving through the crowd until he came upon a building labeled 'The Drunken Sailor'. A drink would help his thoughts calm. Thomas went inside and took a seat in a dark corner. Patrons started to slip back in, but for the most part, the bar was almost abandoned as everyone was still outside yelling or plotting.

 

[desti]

„Where did everyone go? I’ve not seen the bar this empty since – since – no, I’ve never seen the bar this empty.”

Her father was in his fifties already, but hadn’t lost a certain charm in his eyes that must’ve been what made her mother marry him all those years ago. Joseph had earned a reputation of the harsh owned of the most visited bar in town, but in reality he was a kind man. Sure, he expected a bit too much of his only daughter, but that’s just how fathers were.

„Ronald has some news again,” Elizabeth answered, „at least that’s what the pirates said. I can go and listen in, if you’d like?”

„Why would I want that?” her father frowned, shaking his head, „I don’t want you near them. I’m already biting my tongue when anyone dares to speak to you.”

„Kind of a ridiculous move to have me work as a waitress then, isn’t it?”

„I’d rather you work for me than some stranger. This town is full of rats, Beth,” he sighed, „I want to keep you in my. Is that so bad?”

„I guess not,” Elizabeth looked down at the floor, guilty about the ideas rushing in her mind.

Her father had already lost his only son a few years prior, she was his only hope of continuing the family business as her mother was too old to give him another son. Elizabeth knew it was wrong to run away from home, but she’d dreamt about it for so many years and with the chance so close... she couldn’t just let it slip away. If she’d ever return to Nassau, Elizabeth would apologize to him.

If she could just manage to dress in her brother’s clothes and sneak up into a ship...

Obviously that was far easier said than done. She’d have to figure out which ship first of all. Elizabeth knew she wanted ‘The Silence’, but she had no clue how it even looked like. Captain Brock? All she’d heard of him was that he was frightening to look at and could kill a man with a stare alone. She didn’t quite believe that, but she figured that he had to be old and terrifying for seasoned pirates to say such things about him.

While her father returned behind the bar, Elizabeth walked over to the window, looking into the town square. One of the reasons ‘The Drunken Sailor’ was so popular was that it was right between the port and the square, and next to it was ‘Sadie’s girls’, a popular brothel for the men. Right now, all of the usual patrons of the Sailor were gathered in front of a platform, listening to Ronald yelling.

Something about gold and England and Spain or whoever they were fighting at the time. Elizabeth tried to spot anyone who would match the ‘frightening old man’ idea she had in her mind. The only one who came close was passed out underneath a palm tree with a flask of ale tucked under his arm. Not quite what she thought Captain Brock would be like. At least she hoped not.

Maybe it was a silly thought after all. She shook her head and went back to wiping the spilled ale from the tables.

After a while, patrons started to come back into the bar. They were coming back in pairs and groups, chatting about what they had heard. A lot of them mentioned pardons, equally as many mentioned gold. Some of them seemed to be too much in their thoughts to speak at all.

Without them even having to ask, she walked around the pub and served them ale once more that her father poured. She kept her head down, sulking about her plans being ridiculous and how she had considered to leave her poor father alone. Elizabeth felt miserable. She even managed to spill ale on a man that was sitting alone. It had grown so dark inside and outside that she hadn’t paid attention where her foot was going and –

„Oh God, I’m so sorry,” she gasped as she picked up the spilled ale from the table, watching the liquid drip from the table into the man’s lap with a good amount of it already on his shirt, anyways, „I will bring you a cloth and – and another ale. On the house.”

Elizabeth hadn’t seen him before, but, then again, these last few days that hadn’t been anything surprising. So many new people were arriving and leaving that she hadn’t bothered to learn their names. Before he could answer or shout at her or hit her, Elizabeth ran off to the bar.

Her hands quickly became sticky from where she had braced herself on the table, managing to stick her hand right into the puddle of ale. Elizabeth cursed quietly as she wiped her hands, grabbed a rag and another ale before returning to the man.