Two days had passed since the incident.
None had been successful to earn so much as a word from Shiva. The crew grew concerned for her health and the evident loss of weight during their time restocking the ship with supplies. Fragile as glass, the matron refused to even budge an inch. Oddly enough, their Captain was informed of her status by request.
MF's ship had sustained minimal damage and was deemed stable enough to set sail from Ionia after the ambush they confronted from GP's crew several miles from any village or city within the immediate area. However, Gangplank's ship, in turn, had sustained collateral damage in retaliation for the lives claimed that day. Nothing a day's repairs couldn't alleviate.
Alaric's and what other bodies were retrieved had a ceremony to commemorate the event. While Gangplank's crew returned victorious, they were grateful for the chance to recover until they'd be forced to confront MF's crew once again.
At last, their ship set sail back to Bilgewater, a journey surely to last at least three weeks. The men were returning home.
Breaking into song once given the opportunity to mourn their loss, the ship seemed move lively than usual. Rum was distributed equally, yet the sudden disappearance of the Captain mattered little. Indulging in the bitter-tasting food while washing it down with rum, the hearty laughs and cheers of the crew lifted their spirits while the midnight sky illuminated them with a sea of stars.
The door closed behind him, ensuring the privacy as he leered at the figure barely alive.
"Pitiful." he scoffed. "Is this how you intend to rot away? You lose the proclaimed love of your life and you have wishes to join him so soon. Women."
Whether his intentions to feed her need to pass away or to slap some sense into her was unclear, but he received no response from her.
"Let me help your cause, then" his arms scooped the frail figure and slumped her on his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.
Escorting the figure through the corridor leading upstairs, none had noticed their Captain sauntering to the side of the ship. One noticed. Except, he found it suspicious that Gangplank would carry the seemingly lifeless body of Shiva without an ounce of protest. He nudged a fellow mate to gain his attention. In a short span, the active crew had diverted their attention to the scene before them.
He uttered a few words and everyone witnessed Shiva's body being hurled overboard as if it were nothing.
"Man overboard!" cried out one of the men.
A group spread out like the plague, quick to obtain a lifesaver and aim for the sinking body in hopes of retrieving it.
"No. If she wishes to die, then appeal to her desires." Gangplank uttered to his men.
Hesitantly, they obliged and eagerly awaited for the body to surface.
"If she does not resurface, you continue as you were." without another word, he returned to his cabin.
Anxiously waiting for any sign of Shiva surfacing, the men held the lifesaver as if ready to toss upon command.
Falling in with a small splash, the only hint of light radiated from the small flickering fire of the ship and moonlight illuminating the area she currently sank under. Air had abandoned her lungs until her nostrils sealed to prevent the flooding of salt water into them. The faces of the men standing by were a blur, and surprisingly, the face of the Captain was more vivid than ever. Anger coursed through her, quickly warming up the plummeting temperate of the cold sea - realizing it was near freezing temperature.
The need for air finally forced her mouth to gape open, greeted by a generous rush of water to fill her belly and lungs in an instant. Sealing her lips, arms flailed frantically until a repeating motion was achieved to swim upward. Seconds later, glorious air filled her lungs after coughing out the bits stuck in her throat. Hearing the cries of the men, and an accurate toss of the lifesaver landing within reach- caused her to swim towards it as if her life depended on it - quite literally.
Steadily they reeled her in, a blanket and mug of hot water provided before escorted back to her room. Shivering in the sodden clothes, Shiva was grateful and quickly peeled them off to crawl into the warmth of her bed. Not too long after, angry protests from her rumbling belly warned her of the lack of nutrition in her diet. Not to mention the lingering taste of sea salt continued to assault her taste buds ever so often.
Rising to sit, a gentle knock on the door alerted her of company.
"Come in" she called.
Not but a moment later, one of the men walked in with a bowl of soup and bundle of semi-clean clothes for her. The soup was simply water, unknown spices, and potatoes. A poor attempt at imitating her soup. Accepting the bowl with a weak smile, a nod of acknowledgment was given before he dismissed himself. Sipping the 'broth', she quickly spat it out; it tasted terrible! How did the men have the stomach to eat this!? Able to form a countenance of disgust, she couldn't help but smile genuinely at the effort put into this. Every last bite was consumed out of hunger, the loud protesting groans of her belly forcing her to eat.
Fitting into the new set of clothes as her old ones were hung to dry, Shiva stepped out of the room to inspect her surroundings. Merry songs echoed down from the deck, the crew clearly recovered from the incident and continued their quest to become completely disoriented through intoxication. Oh god, the potato stew wanted to escape the pit of her stomach. Holding it in, the woman quickly stumbled into the kitchen and finally emptied what little content had filled her stomach.
Hungry once again, her eyes widened at the sight. Clean dishes. Even if there were traces of potato skin and other raw vegetables about, the dishes were clean regardless. Several hours into the sea after departing from Ionia, the stock room held a vast amount of supplies to cook a large variety of meals.
Her stomach continued to rumble. Oh god, what the hell was in that soup!? Meat, potatoes, and an arrangement of colorful vegetables were chosen to be laid out on the makeshift counter. Slicing and dicing the tray of soon-to-be-food, no assistance was required this one time. In truth, she was cooking for herself this time. The famous massive pot filled with water rested on the stove once again, fueled by four active pits of fire to stew whatever it was fed.
No plates were assembled, and the lack of men was clear that whatever was happening upstairs was definitely entertaining. Good for them. Sampling the broth, she may have accidentally taken a few more 'samples' to wash away that terrible broth she ate not too long ago. Serving herself first, a decent chunk of meat and vegetables complimented her plate, uttering a quick prayer and eating as if her stomach had been replaced with the bottomless pit of one of the men. Seconds was served, devouring it until satisfied.
Exhaling in relief, Shiva moved to the sink and washed her plate before turning to her room and patting the subtle bulge caused by the conception of a food baby. Groaning contently while laying on her back, her hand patted her full belly, yet a wave of nausea struck. Just how did the men create such a concoction? Fighting the urge to empty her stomach once again, Shiva tossed and turned until it settled down and allowed her to sleep.
Alaric...how he haunted her dreams. Tonight was no exception. Except, the dream was more of a repeating memory of the event from two days ago, those three words and the ring hanging loosely on her finger. Gangplank also haunted her memories, adding another reason to despise the man after tonight. He nearly killed her! He tossed her overboard and didn't bother to see if she'd resurface or not. So much, he instructed his men to simply standby and be idle until spotting her. Curling her hands into fists, she despised the Captain more than anyone, or anything, in that manner.
Incapable of staying up another moment, her body desired to rest at long last. Fluttering her lids to a shut, a silent curse was uttered towards the Captain, swearing she'd somehow return all the pain he's inflicted upon her.
Gangplank sneezed.
