Alright, chillins', here's the last chapter before my forced vacation hiatus. The next time I'll be posting will probably be around Tuesday or Wednesday, so a week from now. I hope you guys like it, though, and feel free to leave me any suggestions or comments about the story! -Airel
Anya could hear Killian breathing rhymically and feel his chest rising in long, paced intervals, and knew that his eyes were closed in a deep sleep. It was only then that she deemed it safe to try and escape from his strong clutch on her. She took the arm that was folded over her waist and set it on his side slowly gently so as not to disturb him. Carefully, holding her breath inadvertently, Anya peeled herself away from his naked chest and sat upright in the bed. She shivered briefly at the lack of body heat surrounding her before she stood fully and walked over to his desk. Quietly, she pulled out the first wooden drawer, unashamed by her nakedness, to find there was hardly anything in there but paper, ink and quills. She bit her lip apprehensively as she closed it and opened the next drawer. There was a silver key chain, some stale pieces of bread and three glass bottles of whisky that clinked together when Anya had pulled the drawer open. She had stiffened her body and closed her eyes at the sound, hearing Killian stir in his sleep in the bed directly behind her. When she was certain that the moment had passed and he was still sleeping deeply, Anya closed the drawer and attempted to open the third and last drawer, but to no avail. It must be stuck, she thought annoyedly, giving it another firm tug. Still nothing. Anya's thoughts became more and more anxious. What is wrong with this drawer? If I pull any harder I'm sure to make a cacophony! She bent down next to the object, sitting on her knees, when she noticed that there was a small, empty keyhole. Of course. Killian wouldn't leave all his possessions unguarded, she thought to herself stupidly, We are on a pirate ship after all.
But where Anya was going to find the key was another story completely. She looked about the room to see where he might keep it, her eyes landing on a small wooden dresser. Bingo, she thought victoriously, crawling over to it. She pulled the door to the furniture open, wincing as it gave a protesting creak, when her eyes landed on...Killian's clothes. He had in his closet four pairs of the same jacket he wore every day, the same number of black leather pants and a spare set of his black pirate boots. Anya smiled and, if the situation had not been so tense, would have laughed. The man was apparently not one for variation. But I still haven't found the key! she thought frustratedly to herself, trying to remain on task. She shuffled the clothes around, trying to see if he had hidden it in any pockets, but found nothing. Nor did she find a secret latch on the back, sides, or bottom of the dresser as she had hoped to find when she slid her hands along the dusty furniture. In truth, she had been slighty disappointed. She had always thought pirates to be extremely complicated and secretive creatures, with secret hiding places for all their most valuable treasure. That did not seem to be the case, however, with Killian. She put her hands exasperatedly on her hips and gave the dresser a frustrated shake of the head, as though she could scare it into giving her the key. No such luck.
Where could he have possibly put it? she thought, finding no other places in the room where he might hide it. Unless... her eyes traveled to his pants that had been thrown carelessly to the ground earlier that night, when he and Anya had made love for the second time. A devious smile spread wide across her face as she stepped ever so quietly across the room. She picked up the pants with exaggerated care, hearing a slight tinkling sound as she did. Her grin spread even wider at that; she knew it was the key. Pulling them excitedly out of his pocket, she found that there were in fact two keys on one key chain. I wonder what the other one goes to...Anya thought curiously as she unlatched the third drawer to his desk. Opening it dramatically, she looked inside to find at twenty small rolls of money. Taking one out, (mustn't be greedy), she closed the drawer, latched it back up and shoved the keys back into Killian's pants, setting them down with carefully haphazardnous. Smiling satisfiedly to herself, she dressed in her shift, walked slowly from the room and closed the door quietly, rushing to her own quarters once she found herself safely away from Killian's doors. Lanoria was already there, sitting on Anya's bed, shaking her legs nervously. "Have you got the money?" she asked hopefully, looking up to Anya with eyes wide of worry. "I got it." Anya replied proudly, holding the roll in her hands and extending it to Lanoria, who regarded it both shock and joy. "How did you manage to do this?" she asked, taking the money with shaking hands and holding it as though it were a delicate vase ready to break at the smallest of touches. "It really wasn't that hard...I'm just very...stealthy." Anya said amusedly, basking in her small victory. She didn't feel compelled to tell Lanoria that she had already been sleeping in Killian's room and had really only needed to open a drawer to get the money; what was the point? "I can't tell you how much this means to me." Linny told her happily, still looking at the money with unshed tears in her eyes. "This was nothing," Anya told her, "the real work is going to be getting you off this ship." She sat down next to the woman on the bed and smiled warmly to her. "But it's nothing we can't handle." Lanoria looked seriously to Anya, "Why don't you come with me? We could run away together. I've got enough money here to get me, my husband and you to somewhere safe. We could be free together." Her words were heartfelt and sincere, even hopeful, but Anya knew she could not accept. Though she had pondered the idea at length in her first few weeks on the ship, now that she and Killian had become...close...and she felt that she as truly apart of something, she knew she couldn't go back. She had broken her vows as a nun, her city was pillaged, and trying to escape with Lanoria meant compromising the entire operation. There needed to be someone to distract the pirates as Linny escaped; if they both left then they were sure to get caught. No, Anya knew the prospect of escaping was not one that existed for her. "I don't think so. I'm...happy here." she told Lanoria, though 'happy' might not have been the best word. Content, perhaps, but not happy. She felt like she could be happy though, as long as Killian didn't betray her. "Besides, you and me gone even for more than an hour is likely to arouse suspicions. As long as I'm there covering for you, you should have enough time to get safely out of the city limits." Anya patted the woman's arm comfortingly and gave her an encouraging smile. "This is something only you can do." Lanoria nodded sadly, resignedly; she did not want to leave Anya behind, but she knew that it was her only choice. "Can you just do one thing for me, Lanoria?" Anya asked quietly. The woman nodded vigorously. "Anything, Anya. After all you've done for me...I'll do anything." Anya gave her a grateful smile and whispered, "Remember me." The look Lanoria gave her at that moment, one of pity and love and...friendship...it was one that Anya recognized as being the look Killian gave her so often. Before Lanoria answered, however, she decided instead to nearly dive at Anya, wrapping her arms around her tightly. Tears were running down her face, though whether they were tears of sadness or joy, Anya could not tell. She only heard a small voice whisper in her ear, "Always."
Anya slept fitfully the night before the ship docked, visions of pain and torture plaguing her dreams. She saw Killian thrusting her over the side of the ship, casting her away into the sea as he had Slit. She saw Lanoria being whipped, crying out in pain everytime the instrument cracked and collided with her back. In her dreams, they had always been caught, and they had always been punished severely. Simple to say that when the sun rose into the sky, Anya felt anything but rested. Her body screamed in protest as she shifted uncomfortably in her bed, pulling herself up. It was a wonder she was able to function at all; she had never felt so tired. There were dark rings under her eyes and her muscles were shaking with sheer exhauastion. Still, she forced herself to go about her duties as though it were a normal day, forced herself to never look at Lanoria or Killian in the eye. She kept her head held low, spoke to no one. Lanoria did the same, refusing to meet anyone's gaze. If anyone had payed any kind of attention to the two, they would have assumed something was amiss, but as Killian locked himself in his chambers in preparation of the attack and the rest of the crew were performing their duties, there was no one to pay attention to them. And for that, they were both very grateful.
When the ship docked, Killian lead the pillage against a small fishing village, taking the majority of his men with him. As Anya had predicted, a small minority of the crew remained on the ship, and payed little heed to anything going on around them. Very few were foolish enough to attack a pirate ship with pirates on it, however few they were. So they kept their minds focused on the card games they were playing, talking obnoxiously about some inane or crude thing. Truthfully, though Anya was working right next to them, she didn't hear a word they said. All she could hear were her own thoughts, screaming loud in her head. What if Lanoria gets caught? What if they figure out it was me? What if Lanoria escapes, but then Killian finds her on land? What if... What if. They were the two most feared and immobilizing words in the english language. They allowed for anyone to concoct reasons not to do something, reasons to submit and accept what came to them. But Anya was determined to help Lanoria escape, even if it meant facing Killian's wrath, or that of the crew. Apparently, many of the men had taken quite a liking to the older woman on the ship, though likely not in an entirely appropriate sense. Anya did admit that she was very beautiful for her age, if she did not wear constantly on her face an expression of worry and sorrow. Though that was neither here nor there. She supposed she was just trying to find excuses to push the operation off longer. Sighing, she forced herself to climb off her knees and pick her bucket of water and soap. Setting it down next to the hull, she tapped her shoes twice loudly on the floorboards, which indicated to Lanoria who was hiding directly under them that it was time. All the men who sat at the table thought anything of the sound.
Anya walked slowly up to them, trying to sway her hips erotically as she had seen the young women do back at home. She kept her lips slightly parted and smiled sweetly, taking the stack of cards from the men. It was only then that they looked up at Anya, as though they had not even noticed her before. "Can we be doing somethin' for 'ya, girl?" a man with a devilish smile and three teeth of gold asked her, "Or rather, can we be doing somethin' to 'ya?" All the men sitting around him gave laughed as though it were the funniest thing in the world. "I just wondered if I could play." Anya replied innocently, fanning the deck out and folding it back in. "I don't be seein' why not" the man replied. "Why don't you be takin' a seat right here?" he replied suggestively, tapping his lap lightly. There was another approving laugh from the men. Are all men this vile, Anya thought disgustedly to herself, or is just pirates? "I think I'll stand, thank you." she said curtly, clutching the deck tighter in her hands. She saw out of the corner of her eye Lanoria appear in the doorway to the stores, walking slowly towards the side of the ship so as to go unnoticed. Thankfully, most of the men's backs were to her; Anya's job was to entertain those who were facing Lanoria. "I suppose I'll shuffle, then?" Anya asked conversationally, forcing herself to stare dead-on at the pirate she had been talking to. She didn't want to give anything away. "I suppose you should be shufflin." the man replied gruffly. Apparently, he did not like to be turned down.
Anya cut the deck in half, straightening it out on the table. She had often played card games with her father at home and was quite adept in the different, fanciful techniques of shuffling. She had always found it comforting to shuffle cards for long periods of time. The soft swish they made when they came together, how they would lightly tickle your fingers if you were fast and smooth enough when doing the 'bridge' as it was called. It was all very soothing. But today, there would be none of that. Her job was to keep the men's eyes glued to her for as long as possible, so...she dropped the cards to the ground. "How clumsy of me," she said in a tone of mock sheepishness, "Can you three help me pick them up?" She pointed to the three men that were directly facing Lanoria. They were none too happy to do it, but eventually they climbed down from their chairs and began to collect the scarttered cards, at which time Anya thrust her head back to tell Lanoria to make a run for it. The woman wasted no time in abiding.
When the three men all climbed back to their knees and handed Anya the cards, she thanked them kindly and kissed each of their cheeks, thinking that it mighth work to brighten their mood; it always had back at home. But the gesture seemed to make them even more frustrated, as all three grumbled under their breath about some, "innocent little nun-girl". Anya rolled her eyes and ignored their words. "I suppose I should just start dealing, then?" Anya asked all the men sitting at the table. No one responded. "Right." Anya whispered quietly to herself, passing each man a card until the deck ran out. She heard a small splash, then, but tried to cover it up with a series of fake-coughs. Not the most subtle method in the world, but effective. "You be alright, Anya?" Smee asked innocently, eyes wide with concern. The girl nodded slightly and straightened herself back out, once she was sure that Lanoria wouldn't be making much more noise. The rest is up to you. Run, Linny, run! she thought to herself. There was nothing that she wanted more than to know that her friend was okay, but she just had to have faith. And faith, luckily, was something Anya had never lacked.
The men would never have noticed the absence of the serving maid if it had not been that their quarters had not been cleaned when they entered them, only one hour after the escape. That task had been Lanoria's duty, just like cleaning Killian's quarters was Anya's. Anya had, in fact, warned Lanoria to do her rounds normally that day, so as not to cause suspicion, but she supposed that the woman had either forgotten in her excitement or hadn't had enough time to get around to it. Either way, the task remained unfinished and a dangerous flaw in their plan. Anya only hoped that no one would...
"Anya, go be finding the wench so she can be cleaning these chambers." ...ask her to do that.
Anya walked slowly and somberly to Lanoria's empty chambers, considering how she might do next. She won't have had enough time to get safely out of the city yet, Anya thought worriedly, If I tell them that she's missing, they'll send out a search party and she'll definitely get caught. But if I tell them she's in her chambers ill, then once they figure out that she's gone, I'll be punished. It was a matter of sacrificing Lanoria for herself, of herself for Lanoria. What shall I do...what can I do? Her thoughts were frantic and scattered, fearful as she imagined the horrible fates that could be bestowed upon herself or Lanoria, one of which was certain to come true. But which...that is the question. She remembered dimly the words of her pastor, the words he had spoken to her as a girl, when she had taken the last piece of bread at the service from a peasant boy. He had whispered kindly in her ear a passage she had thought she had long since forgotten, one about selflessness and love. "As for the rich in this present age, charge them not to be haughty, nor to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches, but on God, who richly provides us with everything to enjoy. They are to do good, to be rich in good works, to be generous and ready to share, thus storing up treasure for themselves as a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of that which is truly life."
It was because of this memory, because of these words of kindness and sagacity, that Anya returned to the crew's quarters, informing the men that she'd be cleaning them for Lanoria while the woman was ill in her room. And as the youthful princess swept and scrubbed at the ground, she hummed a merry tune that made her smile.