Descending into the subterranean city via a stone path smothered out due to years of wear, the crew added traffic to the already highly populated micro-city of The Ratpies Cove.
Fascinated by the foundation of this bustling city, no doubt it was also the property of Gangplank who strode proudly and languorously through streets. The perfunctory wave and greet was directed at the Captain, welcoming his return to the hideout and appraised him of the mundane or alarming instances it had faced recently. As the prominent black sheep of the group, Shiva mustered the courage to march through the crowd and feign recognition of what a large portion considered a surrogate home.
Beautiful courtesans belonging to the brothel beside them flocked to their group and even left their current patron to swoon Gangplank into joining them inside - or publicly perform - it wouldn't matter. For a brief second, a flame of jealousy washed over her, veering her gaze as her Captain ceased his trail to hook two of the women with each arm. Others joined to feign their distressed selves from the lack of companionship from Gangplank's men; they bought it to an extent. His crew had to be prioritized, after all.
One even approached Shiva, inquisitive over the new crew member. Instantly, the courtesan identified the matron as a femme and lofted a brow. The Captain had a female aboard his crew? Unheard of. As if unveiling a secret among meant to be kept as such, the enchanting street-walker meandered to another testosteron-filled man after severing eye contact with the silver-haired pirate. How odd.
Another fleeting moment and the Captain's presence was vacant once more. Dimissing the courtesans for a higher priority, the crew roved past the clotted streets and veered into a prominently distinguished building welcoming the Captain by opening the massive double-doors. No guidance was required. All but Shiva were knowledgeable of this building in particular and she'd soon find out. At the apex of the staircase, a congregation of equally rugged broad-shouldered men imbibed their rum as if awaiting their fifth member. The vacant seat must belong to Gangplank.
"About time ye've arrived" one complained.
"S'none of your business, Joshua" the Captain spoke in an underlying tone.
The man harrumphed and took a swig of his grog.
"Any other wish to voice their concern? Drop 'em in the suggestion box" Shiva could've sworn Gangplank had a sense of humor begging to be unchained.
The round table barely fitting the grown men creaked under their weight and the bottles of rum it supported. It had seen better days, but for the mundane tasks it served, they opt to let time take its toll before replacing it. No embellishments were in sight aside another elongated table and battered chairs at their wit's end. Other crew members resided within the expansive room, presumably belonging to the men occupying the round table. They were Captains of other prestigious ships.
Captain Joshua, Captain Logan, Captain Sanz and Captain Reid.
"Straight 'ta business" announced Captain Logan.
Joshua had the thinnest build compared to the leering men he sat with, his clean shaven face accenting the youth he harnessed as opposed to the others. The rum he nursed on hadn't taken its toll through age as opposed to his fellow Captains. Logan, an imposing figure plausibly rivaling Gangplank, his broad chest and shoulders at the peak of masculinity, and a jagged scar running from his brow to the corner of his lip served as nightmare fuel. Captain Stanz appeared to be the modest of the group, but those dim lit azure pools frequently carved every fine detail of his perceived target - an excellent interrogator. Reid, an arrogant ex-merchant with high ambitions, his tightly knitted brows were enough to be affront - his men feared him and were often subjected to harsh punishments for raising a finger against him.
"In case ye aren't aware of the rising epidemic caused by that vile bounty hunter, our supplies in Biligu and other sites have been compromised and we've been forced to relocate our distributions to reduce the hindrance" apprised Stanz.
"Why haven't you killed her off, Gangplank" Joshua's forward statement earned him a disinterested glance from Gangplank.
"If it were so simple, I'd have done it years ago, lad" he grasped his mug of grog and took a swig.
"Yet, you'd rather waste away at brothels and drink yourself into a-" Logan interjected.
"We're not here to prattle over one's personal business. Our supplies are being compromised and if allowed, it would germinate to myriad lengths. This needs to be resolved, now." added Logan. "Bilgewater continues to be our safehouse, but even it may be at risk."
"Miss Fortune is also reducing our numbers through sheer force. We've word of third-parties; mercenaries lending capable hands to her cause" stated Reid.
"You're supposed to be patrolling the northern region...surely you haven't been granting passage to conspicuous ships" impinged Joshua.
"You're one for talk, you're the reason we've lost one of the harbors for derelicting it!" Reid recriminated.
Lost in the sea of dispute among the Captains, the other crews were visibly indisposed. Hushed whispers of arrogance spread like flames through their own group, boasting over the lack of effects applied to them. Apparently, this whole ordeal was taking a toll on the crews. Wages would be reduced, and Gangplank's crew was unaffected by it.
A missive was delivered by one of the designated guards and handed to Stanz. Perusing over the parchment, a flicker of malign aflamed behind his azure orbs and immediately addressed the group.
"You've recruited a woman to your vessel" uttered Stanz in a matter-of-fact tone.
The room fell silent, and even the other crews expressed their piqued interest when leaning forward from where they sat or stood. Gangplank sat still, exchanging glances with his peers before waving his hand perfunctorily.
"Not a woman. Our cook" his statement succinct.
All but Gangplank had a smug rictus tug the corners of their lips, examining his crew for a distinct face.
"You, silver-haired swab, step forth" called Reid to Shiva.
Hesitantly, Shiva obliged and stood before the table with piercing eyes gazing upon easy prey.
"I'll admit, the wench has such a slappable face. I may be inclined to see it bob around my cock. What do you say, sweetheart?" Joshua made a mockery of the woman.
"Ya don't seem to be the cheap rascal, Gangplank. Lessen the whore's work and nab a real pirate ta cook fer ya" advocated Ried.
Gangplank wanted nothing but to maim the two Captains chastening the silver-haired pirate, but his retort would only serve to corroborate their justification that Shiva was not a pirate and merely a female passenger on his ship. He knew the missive was responsible and an unknown source was conspiring against him, aiding the other Captains in exploiting a plausible weakness in him. Too long he's played their childish games, and the Captain had perfected his usage of cards.
"Say what you must. You'd not find a finer cook who gained the respect of an entire crew in a matter of weeks - I assure you." Gangplank eased into his creaking seat.
The barely audible sounds of approval from the crew reinforced his declaration, wiping the slate clean of grins from the other Captains. Exchanging glances as if conversing in a secret language, Gangplank meant to interject but had been encouraged to trod down another path.
"What's a cook if she can't fight? Hardly a pirate if she can't defend her Captain" bellowed Logan.
"The cook's role is to feed the Captain and crew." Gangplank spoke formally.
"And to defend the Captain when necessary" added Stanz. "Isa, step forward".
Readjusting in the uncomfortable chair, Gangplank's chest swelled with a pang. He vageuely recalled the name and already his crimson orbs scanned through the other crews to find the single shadowed figure step forward and present itself.
"Captain" a sharp voice acknowledged its Captain.
In the light, the crusted ebony-hewn-haired of a mature woman with a sluggish posture addressed Captain Stanz, safe to presume she belonged to his crew. Any trace of femininity had been removed through time and experience at sea with a vast group of men to pound away any shred of fragility scavenged. The warrior-made pirate had a collection of prominent scars and weathered skin from the over-exposure to the sun. This was a pirate. Shiva depicted a noble woman in her current proclivity.
"I'd like to introduce you to my cook. May be responsible for a breakout or two of the stomach flu, but nonetheless is a fine addition to the crew. Certainly, even a blind Bilgerat can tell the difference between a whore and a pirate. You know what happens to women aboard any of our ships..." Stanz spoke with a underlying hint of a threat.
"I'll admit it takes an idiot to assume any of my men belong to these flock of whores you're so besotted with" Gangplank uttered, taking another swig of his bitter-tasting grog.
"Though, I'll give her accolades for the cutlass dangling at her hip. Can she use it? How about a friendly spar between them? Surely you wouldn't be opposed to the idea...or are you going to continue protecting her..." his tone grew grim.
Gangplank's greatest fear was unraveling before him and he was completely powerless. He'd only need to express his vehement of the situation and diffuse it, but if the other four persisted that Shiva was merely a woman - he'd be forced to deal with their views through mutiny. He'd be ousted.
He faced a dire crisis; choose to save Shiva from this hell hole he placed her in or follow through Stanz' request.
"I'm capable of the basics" answered Shiva.
"Shiva, no..." Gangplank urged himself to utter but couldn't manage to recover to from the shock of her acceptance.
"So she has a voice after all" smiled Stanz maliciously "It's settled. The friendly spar shall start here and now".
The other Captains rearranged the room eagerly, barking their orders to form a human wall for their miniscule arena meant to host Shiva and Isa's spar. Concerned whispers were uttered among Gangplank's crew, his deft ears catching the winds of doubt regarding the silver-haired pirate's skill with the cutlass - or any weapon for that matter. Had anyone taught her to wield anything aside a cutting knife?
Isa stood ten paces from Shiva, standing at her full height - just a few inches beneath the matron. Snorting excess mucus from the depths of her gullet, the gunk was spat on the floor as Isa withdrew her cutlass from its sheathe hanging on her left hip. Shiva mirrored the action, but the slight stumble from the additional weight earned her a hushed wave of laughter from the other crews. Stanz accidentally released a sound of amusement.
"Not accustomed to the weight?" his seemingly genuine concern was nothing but a facade for his mockery.
No, Shiva wasn't accustomed to the shifting weight of the blade and handle. Expertly handling her weapon as an extension of herself, Isa lunged forward and with a flick of her wrist disarmed Shiva. The blade skid across the floor only a few feet away. The crowd expressed their disappointment through unsatisfied groans and clicks of their tongues.
"Surely the whore wasn't ready. Why don't we give it another round, shall we?" suggested Stanz as the other Captains and crew members cast their vote in favor for a rematch.
"Go an' get yer sword, 'ove" Isa strained her voice to sound sweet.
Shiva obliged and retrieved her blade, but as soon as she turned to face Isa, the rusted sheen of the blade blurred to her right and a sudden twinge forced Shiva to wince and raise a hand to her cheek. Upon lowering it, a leaking line of crimson trickled down her palm. A cut on the cheek.
"'am sorry, 'ove, a reckon ye should improve yer fetching time. Surely ye don't gargle on cocks that slow, eh?" Isa's comment coaxed laughter from the others.
Contemplating in intervening the 'friendly' spar at play, Gangplank knew better - even if his hand itched to retrieve his pistol and splatter the brains of the pirate inflicting wounds on the inexperienced silver-haired matron. He swore to take vengeance should the situation grow dire.
"Ain't seen many fights, 'ove? Aunty Isa will cure 'at" she spoke before lunging forward again.
This time, Shiva parried by chance, and it seemed to irk Isa to deny her another chance to maim her. Tch. As if a fuse malfunctioned, Isa harried the poor matron relentlessly, finally basking in the gratification of successfully inflicting cuts on Shiva. Blinded by fueled manifested anger, Isa failed to notice the swift curved slash catching her cheek and surceasing her Shiva's actions from earlier to stare at the blotch of sanguine smeared against the back of her hand, the pirate physically lunged at the matron and tackled her down, pinning her at the waist before pummeling down the helpless woman.
"You fucking cut my face!" bellowed Isa out of rage.
Patches of lesions were visible after a few moments, splatters of crimson following shortly after. It wasn't until Isa was content with the macabre canvas she created out of Shiva's face that she rose to a stand to retrieve her cutlass with laborious pants. Rolling onto her side to spit out the collected pool of blood from her mouth, the matron reached for her cutlass until she heard the distinct boots of Isa clicking back over.
"I'll teach you to touch my face and get away with-" Isa raised the blade over her head, swinging downward but felt a centered sharp pain on her chest.
Glancing below, her amber hues followed the trickling rivulets of crimson flow down the length of Shiva's blade. Shaky hands served to rattle the lodged blade directly through Isa's heart, forcing the madwoman to fall onto her knees and send herself into a state of shock. Releasing the hilt of the cutlass, an unseen weight seemed to push the pirate on her back and desperately fill her lungs with air - only to fall lifelessly not a moment later.
Silence.
A voice lifted the curtain with gritting teeth. "You...YOU" the amount of rage swelling within Stanz burst forth as he unsheathed his blade and stormed toward the matron struggling to sit.
Managing to turn and face the new tribute for the 'friendly' spar, a silent gasp escaped her lips while attempting to retreat into the safety of anyone or anything willing to shelter her from harm. As the blade striked downward, it clashed against another metal - another blade. Fearing the impending death, the matron shut her eyes but reopened them when death had failed to claim her. Verdant hues widened at the sight before her.
Gangplank stood proudly as her shield, his own flaming cutlass threatening to sear through Stanz' blade. The other Captain retreated hesitantly and eyed Shiva with malicious intent.
"She owes me a cook...!" he growled audibly.
"Your cook was responsible for her own life during this 'friendly' spar you propositioned...our cook is not liable for your loss" Gangplank uttered with a hint of rage "Unless you wish to come to other terms...".
The flaming cutless visibly seared the edge of Stanz' blade and forced him to retreat completely. All the other crew members shifted uneasily, whether they peered behind Gangplank's blazing crimson orbs or witnessed the physical manifestation of the Saltwater Scourge's inner demon. Either way, none desired to be in the same room as he.
"There are no women in my crew. Only the finest hand-picked pirates" Gangplank declared to the others.
Left to their silence, Gangplank and his men aided Shiva in guiding her downstairs before leaving her in their Captain's care. He'd have it no other way.
Escorting her to a villa under his reign, the man spared no expense at furnishing the embellished home with the finest of everything. Rare breeds of flowers, tapestry capable of feeding an entire family for several months, original paintings ( presumably stolen ) hung artfully on the walls, etc. Minding the finer aspects of the glorious villa, a cry for a "Hannah" reverberated until fast-paced clicks of heels reciprocated the call. This Hannah was apparently the caretaker. Drifting from her conscious, a hazy image of an ebony-skinned female came into view until the Captain whispered orders before both parties panicked at the matron suddenly falling unconscious.
Two days had passed before Shiva roused from sleep with a groan. Inhaling sharply while rising to a seated position, a wince escaped her lips when finally feeling the cuts of the flesh heal under the bandages which were changed daily. To no surprise, Gangplank slumbered on a chair beside the bed, bottles of rum resting on the nightstand, probably imbibing while worrying over her recovery.
"...Gangplank" she whispered.
The whisper must've been amplified through his ears to rouse the Captain from his sleep. Startled by his rise to stand beside her, a brightened florid of her cheeks greeted him.
"...are you alright..." he whispered as if fearing another presence hearing him utter words of genuine sympathy to a living being.
"Aye..." Shiva replied with a soft voice.
The bruises were prominent but no longer swelled, and the cuts were healing quite nicely. Overall, Shiva was in perfect health. Dressed in a simple gown, the bedhair gave her a comical appearance as opposed to a victim of physical abuse. Already she removed the blanket and slid to the edge of the bed in attempts to stand. Gangplank stopped her with a single hand.
"You should take this opportunity to rest..." he suggested.
"I'm perfectly fine...I'm not even sure how long I've been asleep. We should return to the crew - surely they're worried about-" Gangplank interjected.
"Not as concerned as I am for you" his voice rose without intending it to.
Shiva gazed at the Captain with wide eyes, stunned by his confession.
"...please. Rest. Let it be another day you're out of harm's way because of me..." his other hand cupped the free shoulder. "...I implore you to reconsider...".
The Captain leaned forward as if intending to kneel but could not.
"Cap'n..." was all she could whisper.
That warming sensation returned, boiling her blood to heighten the production of heat. Just as their foreheads touched, Shiva fluttered her lids to a shut, allowing his weight to push her back onto the bed and land with a silent thud. His breath reeked of grog but she couldn't complain, her own breath probably reeked of worse.
"...one night" Shiva whispered as her lips lingered dangerously close to his own.
Surprised by her declaration, his hands traversed down her arm to greet her hands and interlace them with his own. He squeezed them affectionately, now elevating them to pin them above her head without an ounce of protest. That warmth spiked as the rise and fall of her chest grew profound - not just with hers - but his own as well. Shiva inhaled and he exhaled, breathing on each other as the faintest of her scent reached his nostrils and sent him into a trance.
"I need more than that...much...longer than...that..." their lips grazed as he found it difficult to hold himself up.
"...so...do...I..." the final whisper before Shiva canted her cranium upward and seal their lips in a passionate and hot kiss.
Gangplank permitted himself to melt onto her, careful to not crush the smalle woman under his weight. His squeezed firmly, expressing the excess emotion his lips couldn't fill. Unless her ears betrayed her, Shiva could've sworn she heard him groan in pleasure, as if living in a fantasy he'd been dreaming for so long. They uttered each other's names through the corners of their lips, refusing to break the seal of their kiss as the matron returned the pleasurable groan.
"Shiva...".
"Gangplank...".