Miss Fortune's ship welcomed Shiva more than GP's crew did for a number of months. Yet, so fond had she grown of them; she missed them dearly.
Alaric...her heart ached.
Given a brief tour of the frequented areas of the ship, she noticed a handful of women on the ship - apparently they were permitted on this ship. Of course, the entire crew contributed to the maintenance and well-being of the ship, and that left with Shiva slaving away in the kitchen with other cooks. No longer did the silver-haired female work solo in accomplishing a nourishing meal for hungry men and feel appreciated, but aided the regent cooks with peeling and trivial tasks.
No longer was she a slave, yet she longed to continue sewing the hewn shirts of careless men, feed them breakfast and dinner, to be teased over wardrobe malfunctions in kind spirits. Stifling a chuckle while revering over past events, the careless nature caused her to flick the sharp end of the blade at the pad of her index and coax a rivulet of crimson to stream from it. Notifying the lead over her clumsy accident, a bandage was wrapped around the wound and given a reproving lecture. Shiva dismissed the fleeting thoughts tempting her to plausibly have another accident, now peeling the potatoes at a languid pace to avoid any more injuries. She missed the Dead Pool.
Aboard the Dead Pool, Gangplank, and his men sailed at full speed for Ionia. His crew had been informed of Shiva's unexpected abandonment of the ship, and the first days were impactful as the nutritious meal they'd been provided no longer sated their hungry bellies and efficiency on their productivity had been visibly noticeable. Several weeks of being spoiled did that.
Except, being veteran sailors didn't diminish their laborious work habits. They worked at a standard pace, just as rehearsed prior to Shiva's arrival. It was satisfactory, yet their captain wondered what happened to his crew's elated spirits during Shiva's presence aboard his ship. One woman couldn't possibly cause this.
In his quarters, a vigorous knocking rattled the hinges of his door.
"A word, Captain!" Alaric's voice was assertive as opposed to requesting permission.
"Make it quick, I'm busy" Gangplank reciprocated while perusing through his map and eyeing a particular ship a respectable distance from his own.
Storming in with palms striking the table to plant themselves firmly, he eyed his captain with determination.
"What did you say to Shiva to force her to leave!" Alaric demanded with furrowed brows.
Gangplank bothered not to break his concentration from his private session with his map.
"Nothing. Just informed her of her place on this ship," he answered nonchalantly.
Assaulting the desk once more, Alaric noticed an odd particle of torn fabric on his desk. He examined it. At once he recognized who'd it one belong to. His gaze snapped at the following evidence at the droplets of crimson staining the floor only inches from the desk. Kneeling to drag his finger at the dried up substance, any experienced man would know where this particular blood originated from. Shiva had no wounds and; he found another substance caking the crimson fluid. All men produced this. Off to the side, he noticed various bowls of now rotten food on the floor as if someone had tossed them away - they were Shiva's offerings of food to the captain.
"You RAPED her!" Alaric rose to his full height and slammed the desk harder, toppling over a jar of ink.
That gained the captain's attention.
"A crew member's duty is to serve their captain. Whether it be through labor or other means" he stated simply.
Alaric was angered and every moment Gangplank thought he'd strike him. He expected it.
"Every crew member is treated equally, no exceptions. Unless you're opposed to our global rule.
"She cooked for the crew, mended our clothes, and this is how you treat her? She did not deserve it!" his hands curled into fists.
"No special treatment," he started "Unless you desire to challenge your captain and change the rules to whatever your noble desires want. That, or you could hold your tongue and return to work."
None was capable of challenging Gangplank alone, and they knew it well. Standing at full height, even Gangplank's seated self was intimidating by the deadly aura he exuded.
Alaric scoffed, spat on the floor and strode out the door to return to his post.
Only after various moments did Gangplank surcease his work to rise and leave his cabin and venture to the kitchen. From a distance, he could overhear two crew members arguing over...ingredients? Halting his steps just around the corner, keen ears on alert.
"No, no. That's not how she did it, you baffoon! You add mint and some of that...powder of there!" the man hesitated.
"Mint in soup? They don't mix well with chicken...do they?" the second questioned.
"How the hell do I know! Ya never bothered to ask how to prepare it, ya idiot!" both silenced themselves for a moment.
"Looks like we're going back to eating raw meats and vegetables, eh? That's the second time I say goodbye to mom's cookin'...".
His men were provided daily meals as Alaric stated. His men's spirits were high during her stay with actual meals filling the pits of their bellies as opposed to the poor excuse of raw vegetables they nourished themselves with. Shiva had delivered it to his quarters as well, but he had rejected every bowl.
Upon returning to his quarters, the man pondered the unspoken servitude the silver-haired woman had provided his crew members with. She didn't boast about it, she wasn't ordered to, yet she served willingly. His crew respected her - no easy feat. The corner of his lips tugged into a grin.
Returning to the map in hand, the miniature ship model trailing a decent distance behind him was dragged up to a distant land on the top-left of his map, Ionia. This ship had been following him for the past several months, and only recently did it close the gap as if intending to confront him - which it did. He knew who this ship belonged to; he had to. "Another duel you wish to have?" he muttered to himself "Another defeat you'll gain, Miss Fortune...".
Weeks passed before they'd reach their destination - Ionia - hiding their vessel in an assumed abandoned cavern to play the role of a prey in hiding. This wasn't their true intention of course. Miss Fortune's ship was only a day's distance behind him and he was sure they'd arrive by dawn the following morning. For now, Gangplank and his men tucked explosive barrels in ample crevices of the cavern, expecting a brawl to ensue between his and Miss Fortune's crew members. Of course, both sought to gain the upper hand on one another, but this tactic was merely a decoy - a getaway should the tides turn against his favor.
Patiently did they wait, resting, consuming rum, and surely enough dawn arrived. In the horizon, Gangplank's men could already see the outline of Miss Fortune's ship swelling in visibility each passing moment.
The only calculation he'd fail to notice was that Shiva was also aboard that ship he planned on plundering.