A/N: Hellooooo everybody! :D Hope ya'll are surviving.
Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, or lurked the last chapter. I supes appreciate you! :')
I'd also like to thank Dakota (Perfectly Censored) for being such a champ and taking up her Wall duties, even while being submerged in the story she's currently writing for ya'll. I think you guys are really going to love it, but in the meantime while you're waiting, you'll just have to make do with this. :)
Enjoy~
Santana tries hard to focus on the book in her hands, but her thoughts keep returning to her encounter with Brittany from less than an hour ago. Lord Tubbington- as Brittany had taken to calling him, and she has to admit, the name suits him- in all his portly glory, lies crushing her legs as she reclines on her bed, his tail twitching to and fro with agitation over his lack of morning meal. She would roll her eyes at his haughty behavior if she could think of anything else except the intoxicating feeling she felt from Brittany's close proximity. She recalls the way her arm felt- her arm, for fuck's sake, is she absurd? Since when does she think arms are sexy?
She sighs; since Brittany's touched her. She would laugh at how pathetic she is, but she's too confused at how the barest touch, like arms brushing, could make her feel so- so-
A loud knock interrupts her thoughts, and she's relieved for the distraction.
"Enter," she calls coolly in response, and the heavy wooden door to her room swings open to reveal Kurt. At the sight of him, Lord Tubbington eagerly leaps up from her lap and makes his way over to investigate, meowing. Kurt bends to set a tiny metal bowl down with a smile, and the cat meows again, gratefully, before setting to devouring his meal as if he hasn't eaten in days.
Santana rolls her eyes. "Thanks, Kurt. You'd think we starved him."
"I brought yours, too," he tells her, holding up another larger bowl.
She wrinkles her nose as he sets it on her desk for her to eat at her leisure. "Oatmeal again?"
He smiles sadly. "Until we make that trip to Perdic, I'm afraid we'll have to make do with the dry stores."
She nods, settling back against her pillow once more. "I'll arrange a meeting with Puck." She returns her attention to the book she'd been reading before his interruption, expecting him to leave.
He doesn't.
She gets about halfway down the page when she hears him rustling around in her wardrobe, and she pointedly glares at him over her book, watching through annoyed, narrowed eyes as he digs through the bottom of the huge piece of furniture, emerging after a few moments with a pair of her old, black boots.
Kurt inspects the boots carefully, checking the bottom for holes- there aren't any- and, once he determines them satisfactory, he nods in approval and climbs to his feet.
Santana sighs, agitated. "What're you doing?"
"Taking these," he shrugs.
"For what?"
"For Brittany. I think you two are about the same size." The mention of her has Santana bristling; even with Kurt's distraction, she's still reeling inside from her earlier encounter with the blonde, and she hasn't even begun to sort out her illogical feelings of fondness for her. She's been avoiding her for the majority of the week in an attempt to quash her consuming desire- gods, she really needs to get her sheets tossed- but she couldn't avoid Brittany in the kitchen this morning, or ignore how disarming and utterly adorable she is. Still- it's better if she limits her contact with the girl.
She sets her book down firmly in her lap, opening her mouth to deliver something scathing in response to Kurt's statement, but Kurt cuts her off with a roll of his eyes, tucking her old boots securely under his arm. "You're not even using them, Santana. You have new ones."
Santana growls, "I don't care. They're mine-"
"And I suppose you also don't care that Brittany's current shoes have caused her to have blisters on her feet?"
Santana crosses her arms, huffing. "Not at all."
Kurt raises a teasing eyebrow. "What if I told you they've burst open?"
"I'd tell you I care even less- and that's disgusting."
"And that they cause her pain every time she walks?" he presses, inwardly grinning at the way Santana uncomfortably fidgets, knowing she's close to caving in to his request. "You wouldn't care?"
"Nope," Santana says stubbornly, though she hesitates, avoiding his eyes.
"Okay, then," Kurt sighs dramatically, setting the boots back down. He slowly turns to leave, and Santana lets loose a loud, irritated breath.
"Take the fucking boots."
Kurt smiles to himself, happy he's been proved right as he stoops to pick them back up, then cheekily adds, "Have you got any spare trousers?"
Santana blinks at him. "You've got to be fucking joking." She winces as Lord Tubbington, now finished eating and a full meal heavier, leaps back onto her lap, his little cat paws gravitating to the tenderest spots on her thighs and jabbing right into them. Between him and Kurt, Santana doesn't know who's agitating her more. Lord Tubbington meows expectantly and Santana pets him automatically, obedient and trained, and she turns her exasperated glare back to Kurt.
He raises an eyebrow at her questioningly, an insufferable smirk on his face, and Santana shakes her head in angry disbelief. She waves her hand towards her wardrobe.
"You know where they are," she mutters. "But don't," she points at him, "get the wrong idea."
Kurt only grins.
It's later in the day, and Santana's waiting in the main room with Kurt so they can discuss their supply run to Perdic, which has to be approved by Captain Moron. She rolls her eyes. Is this really what her life has come to?
Leaning back in her chair, she idly whittles at a spare chunk of wood, trying to figure out what she ought to make- she's never been particularly good at it- when Kurt sidles up to her and pokes her in the ribs.
"Do that again," she says casually, "and you'll find yourself only able to count to four on that hand."
Kurt ignores her- empty, he knows- threat. "Brittany liked her boots," he baits her instead. "And the trousers fit her rather-"
Santana sighs loudly, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. "Kurt, I'm not sure what possessed you to believe that I, in any way, care about what you're telling me, but-"
"She was extremely happy," he continues, "and told me to thank whomever donated them to her."
She continues her whittling, feigning indifference. "Still don't care."
Kurt grins knowingly. "Okay-aay, but I'm just passing along the sentiment. Brittany thanks you."
"She shouldn't, considering I was basically swindled against my will into giving those items to her."
Kurt laughs. "Swindled, were you?"
"Positively robbed."
"You? Ira Del Diablo?"
She shrugs. "Even the Devil gets cheated sometimes, Kurt. It's a serious problem."
"I'm sure," he teases, but he knows. He can see right through Santana. He settles back into his chair, smirking.
The door swings open, and Puck swaggers in, then plops down in his chair at the head of the room. "Sorry I'm late," he says, propping his feet up on a footstool and reclining in his chair. Santana rolls her eyes.
"No, you're not."
Puck grins. "You're right. But what's all this, Kurt? What did you need?"
Kurt shoots a look to Santana before he says, "Our supplies are getting low; I'd like to travel to Perdic to replenish them."
Puck nods thoughtfully. "And how much will that cost? We just barely have enough money to fund our trip to Lao."
"And when," Santana cuts in, "do you plan on making that voyage?"
Puck's grin never falters as he says, "Just as soon as Arty and I figure out a way to get in." Before Santana can protest, he adds, "C'mon, Dia- you said yourself Lao ain't gonna just open up its gates to us, and we can't fight our way in."
"Their defenses are impenetrable," Santana agrees absently, digging her blade into the block of wood in her hand and shaving off a curl.
Puck snaps his fingers, pointing at her. "Exactly. I'm trying to do what you said- we won't make a move until we come up with a plan."
"Well, regardless," Kurt says softly, bringing the conversation back to the original topic, "we still need supplies- both for the impending voyage to Lao, and for the time leading up to it."
Puck sighs, thinking for a moment. Then, he waves his hand lazily. "Granted. Santana, you're in charge. Take the Sea Guillotine."
"What?" Santana demands, halting her hands' motions. "You're not going?"
"No- I told you. Arty and I have planning to do. We need to figure out how to get that map. It's got to be our priority, more than accompanying an insignificant supply run."
Santana grumbles. "So my time is to be wasted instead, eh?"
"Need I remind you that these insignificant supplies are what keeps all of you alive?" Kurt says sarcastically.
Puck chuckles. "Details." He stands and looks at Kurt. "Who will you be taking? I recommend Jake- he could use some more experience, and the Sea Guillotine is much more manageable for someone so green."
Kurt nods. "Noted. I'll be leaving Sugar here-"
"What?" Puck wonders, scrunching his face up in confusion. "Why would you take sugar with you?"
Kurt ignores him, "-to assist with the chores, but Brittany will accompany me-"
"What for?" Santana snaps, setting her wood chunk down firmly on the table. It makes a loud clunk when it hits.
"Well, she's my assistant, and I need her assistance- obviously."
"She will be of no use-"
"To the contrary, Brittany has spent time in both Matt and Mike's company, and has picked up a few skills in regards to sailing," Kurt defends. "I think I'll find her quite useful, actually."
"Take her along," Puck agrees with a nod, clearly amused by his shipmates' banter, and the dumbfounded expression on Santana's face from Kurt's response. "If she does well, we'll take a trip out to Lycan waters upon your return, put her to the test. It's high time we did some pirating."
"And it's high time she made good on her promise," Santana mumbles, sliding her knife back into her boot.
Santana's starting to wonder if she'll ever be on solid land for more than a few days.
"Hard to starboard, Jake!"
It seems like just as soon as she arrives back to her comfy bed, she's being shipped- literally- out again. But, who is she kidding? She loves the sea, and everything about sailing it. So as much as she grumbles and complains about having to be a "caretaker" for such a boring trip, it doesn't really bother her as much as she likes to pretend.
"No- I said starboard, not-"
Except when she actually has to be a caretaker. It's not her first supply run, and she's certain it won't be her last, either. She's normally in charge of running the ship, even when Puck is on board, but it's a little liberating knowing she's completely in charge. She spends the short- as in, seven hour- trip to Perdic discreetly watching Brittany, who's enthusiastically participating in sailing for the first time. Matt guides her, of course, giving her directions and cues, but for the most part, she anticipates his commands, and Santana has to admit, she's secretly impressed with how much the blonde has improved in just one short week from the helpless incompetent she was when they first snatched her.
Santana's also impressed- in a very different manner- with how fine Brittany looks wearing her clothes. Santana's old boots and breeches suit her, much better than the high-heeled lace-up boots and too-big, borrowed trousers Brittany had been sporting previously. Santana's donated breeches are just a little too tight, perhaps; just a little too low, perhaps; just a little too distracting, maybe, and Brittany catches her staring at least three separate times during the lackluster voyage.
When they arrive at port, Matt stays with the ship, as usual, and Kurt instructs Jake and the other Cabin Boy- a lad they'd found floating among some flotsam several months ago- to accompany him and Brittany. Santana watches as the boy silently follows; he hadn't spoken a single word since they'd found him, but he always obeyed his orders, so they'd left him alone. (Because he'd never told them his name, they'd nick-named him Henry.)
Santana trails behind them, wishing she'd had the foresight to blackmail David into coming along to keep her sane as they move at a snail's pace through the aisles of seedy merchants offering up curios and products from every corner of the ocean. Their visits always operate in the same basic manner- when Kurt wants to purchase, he calls her over; then it's her turn to haggle with the merchant and ultimately, pay for the merchandise since she's in charge of the coin purse. Once the exchange is made, she barks orders to Jake or Henry to tote the goods back to the ship in turns.
It's a slow process, normally, but today, it's made even slower by the fact that Kurt has Brittany at his side; he pauses in his inspections to explain things to her along the way, showing her how to pick good vegetables, how to distinguish between meats, what all the different spices are and their defining features, and everything in between. Santana uses the time to quietly observe Brittany's enthusiasm, the way she listens intently, focusing her attention on Kurt's teachings, absorbing the information like a dry cloth and asking well-thought-out questions. Again, Santana notes that Brittany is an extremely fast learner, and Santana can't help but think she'd make a decent pirate, if-
No, she shakes the thought from her head. That's not an option.
Her eyes slide down to Brittany's rear end as she bends to examine some kind of gourd, and Santana feels her thoughts creeping away, her mind made blank at the glorious sight before her. She licks her lips, wishing she could just reach right out and grab the supple flesh with her hand, but Kurt has already made it clear that Brittany is off-limits.
Her respect for him is literally the only reason she's resisted as long as she has… but to make Brittany a pirate? To offer her up, not as property, but as an equal, free to be courted and pursued as she pleases?
Santana's heart pounds. She trails her eyes up Brittany's back to find the girl watching her over her shoulder, and the look in her blue eyes- her bent-over position, the way the sunlight hits her hair, all of it- sends a hard throb of arousal straight between her legs. She forces her gaze away, her hands clenching into fists at her sides, her face growing surreptitiously hot.
She really needs to get her sheets tossed. She's barely resisting as it is; if Brittany becomes part of her crew-
Well, she can't let that happen.
"Enter," Brittany calls from her spot sitting on the edge of her tiny cot as she hears a knock on her door. The door opens a crack and Kurt peeks his head in, smiling encouragingly.
"You ready?" he asks, and Brittany nods, taking a deep breath. She shakes her hands out, feeling nervous. It was only this morning, the day after they'd returned from Perdic, that Kurt informed her of the end of the fragile existence she'd enjoyed so far. The Captain was ready to test her out, and she'd been given the day to prepare for the weeklong voyage- well, after she'd helped Kurt load their newly-acquired supplies onto The Tide Ripper. Once she finished, she was allowed time to bathe and wash her clothes before their departure at nightfall.
The hours leading up to now did little to calm her nerves, however, and she's still just as anxious as she was when Kurt told her of her test.
She is going to be in a lot of trouble if she snarls this up.
"Let me just get my, um-"
she jerks her thumb over her shoulder, having no idea what she's referring to, because she doesn't actually own anything to get, but Kurt nods knowingly.
"Okay," he says. "Meet me out front whenever you're ready- just don't take too long." At her nod he adds, "Don't worry- you're going to be fine."
Brittany nods again, and in that moment, she almost tells him the truth- that she has no idea what she's doing, that she doesn't know her father's ship's flags at all, that she lied, that she's an idiot-
She can tell him, right?
She makes up her mind, but before she can open her mouth, Kurt exits back out to the passageway, shutting her door behind him, and Brittany's left alone in her room, bouncing her knee, chewing her lip, shaking.
Perhaps nervous was an understatement.
She's terrified.
She's being put to her first test, and if she guesses incorrectly- well, she still hasn't learned to swim very well. She supposes Kurt might at least dicker for her to be marooned on an island instead of being immediately tossed overboard. Perhaps with the skills she's learned so far, she might actually survive for a while, so long as the island is deserted, and not home to some ferocious predator beasts, or-
She chews her lip some more. Perhaps she should tell them, call the whole thing off. What if she were to approach them, and tell them the truth? Would they gut her where she stands? Would they forgive her, thank her for not wasting their time, and let her continue to be a slave?
Who is she attempting to fool? She nearly laughs at her own crazy thoughts- as if savages would be understanding! The ones who know her- Mike, Matt, Arthur, Jake- surely might, but Scrap?
Her heart sinks. But Santana?
She sighs, feeling her heartbeat picking up. Brittany doesn't know how to feel about the lady pirate. When the woman stares at her- which is rather frequently- Brittany loses her thoughts. When she's near her, she wants to be even nearer, feels compelled to be as close as possible. She doesn't know what any of it means, and after the encounter when she'd learned Santana's name- when Santana was actually nice to her- she'd spent an entire day and a half in her company, and Brittany could sense that the air between them was- tense. Charged, even.
She thinks Santana senses it, too. That must be why the woman avoids her.
She thinks she might be making progress with Santana, with being Santana's friend. If she messes this up, though- if she fails her test- will Santana still tolerate her?
Brittany's stomach flips with a mixture of fear and something else. She takes a deep, calming breath and tries to slow the rapid pounding of her heart, to stop the visible trembling of her hands. She's running out of time. She has to face her fate sooner or later.
She stands and exits her room, walking steadily down the dimly-lit passageway. When she passes the room that houses her old cage, she pauses; then, on a whim, she takes a short detour inside. The door to the cage is wide open, and the inside looks as if it's been untouched since she last was in it, which reassures her. Her stomach flutters with nerves for a completely different reason as she enters her old cell and moves to the rickety cot she used to sleep on. Searching under the pillow she smiles as she retrieves the old red bandana Santana had placed over her eyes two weeks ago.
She stares at the scrap of red a moment, remembering how fierce Santana had been during their first few encounters. She wishes she could borrow some of that fierceness now. She's been lucky so far- she knows it won't last, but she hopes she'll continue to be lucky, and maybe, with the help of this red bandana, she can. Santana's bandana had soothed her before and had been a reminder- a source- of strength when she was alone and stressed about her fate. She hopes it will continue to be so for her, especially now that she really needs it.
She knows Kurt's waiting on her, so, thinking fast, she quickly rolls her left shirt sleeve up, trying to decide where she wants to place it. She starts with her wrist, but it's too risky- she doesn't want anyone- especially the bandana's owner- to see the cloth on her. Santana might think she's unsavory, or accuse her of stealing it and demand it back, and then she'll be in even more trouble. No one would understand why she wants it- they wouldn't comprehend that she finds Santana inspiring, that she admires and looks up to the woman, and that the bandana is a reminder of her strength.
No- not the wrist.
Instead, she awkwardly wraps the bandana around her bicep. Once it's tied off securely, she unrolls and refastens her shirt sleeve, hurrying out of the room and to the entrance of the cave. She feels a little more confident. The pressure of the fabric around her arm is a constant, gentle reminder that she can be just as capable and strong as Santana. She's already come a long way and learned so much. She's befriended several of the pirates and she knows that she can befriend even more the longer she stays.
Maybe even Santana someday, if she's strong like her, fierce like her. The bandana reminds her of the goal- befriending the lady pirate- that she hopes to achieve in the future. It's almost as if Santana- future Santana, who's her friend- is cheering for her, hoping she will reach it.
She shakes her head. She's confusing herself. As she reaches the entrance, she finds Kurt waiting for her and he smiles gently.
"You can do this," he says.
And for the first time, Brittany believes him.
Soon after she meets up with Kurt, Brittany's on deck, helping to get The Tide Ripper underway. It's dark, and she's anxious under the scrutiny of many of the other pirates who haven't worked with her previously. She's still terrified she's going to slip up, but Matt offers her his reassuring presence and she doesn't make a single mistake.
Once The Tide Ripper is out to sea and heading in the direction of Lycas, Kurt fetches her from the main deck to help fix dinner, which had been delayed for the castoff. When she arrives at the galley she finds Sugar already hard at work baking rolls, and her eyes widen in surprise.
"Hello," she greets, rolling her sleeves up to her elbows- she doesn't want to dirty Kurt's shirt too much, she's been awful careful about it. (Secretly, she's thankful that she decided not to tie the bandana on her wrist.) "Are you to be part of the galley help now?"
"Well, since you've been recruited to bigger and better things, I've missed your assistance," Kurt teases, tossing her an apron, which she catches effortlessly.
She smiles tightly, still feeling full of dread. "I'm here now," she offers, and Kurt nods.
"And you know what to do." He grins and Brittany sets to work. They prepare cold sandwiches from strips of cured ham; once they have them assembled, Kurt excuses himself to bring Lord Tubbington his evening meal, joking about his life being cut short if he delays as he leaves them to clean.
Once he exits the room, Sugar turns to her. "Brittany, have you gone mad?" she hisses, setting the bowl she'd been holding down firmly on the wooden table. "Call this insane voyage off-"
"How?" Brittany demands, her voice rising with panic. "They think I have information, it is the only reason we are still alive! You heard Santana-"
"Who?"
"That beautiful lady pirate!" Brittany says hopelessly, setting the rag she'd been using to clean down on the counter. Sugar raises an incredulous eyebrow. "She was to have us killed and-"
"Beautiful?"
"-they kept us for this reason alone. We are of no use to them otherwise!"
"But we are, Britt!" Sugar argues. "We've shown to be productive and helpful and-"
"It won't be enough," Brittany protests bitterly. "I've thought of that, I have, but-"
"And what happens when they find out otherwise? Hm? They certainly won't be happy- you'll have wasted their time, their money, or worse-"
"I know that!" Brittany slams her palm on the table in helpless frustration. "I just-"
The sound of footsteps approaching makes Brittany shut her mouth, and she picks up her rag to continue wiping down the counter.
Kurt smiles as he enters. "His Highness is fed, much to Santana's delight; I suppose I shall live to feed him tomorrow. Now- will you two assist me in passing out the rations?"
Silently, they nod and help carry the platters of sandwiches up to the main deck. Kurt hands one to each of the pirates, unaware that Brittany is on the verge of hopeless tears of distress beside him. It's not only her life at stake; she promised she'd keep Sugar safe, and now she might have to break that promise. She only hopes she will be able to request Sugar be spared in exchange for her own death, but truthfully, she doesn't want to have to make either choice. There has to be another way.
Beside her, Sugar sends her fleeting, worried looks, which she pointedly ignores. Brittany can't look at her. She has to focus. She silently prays to whatever powers that be that she'll be able to guess correctly when they do eventually cross a ship. Maybe they won't cross a ship at all–
She gathers her courage, reminding herself that she's been lucky so far. Maybe that luck will last a little bit longer.
Brittany spends the first full day of her voyage helping to get the ship clean. Kurt woke her in the morning to assist with breakfast and she learned for the first time what a good pirate meal tastes like.
"We can't leave this on the island," Kurt had explained to her as he fried up some delicious-smelling meat. "It would spoil in the week we're gone. Our only choice is to eat it- but I'm sure you won't complain, eh?"
Brittany shook her head, the tantalizing smell of the spices and meat sizzling in the pan making her mouth water as she helped Kurt with the usual routine. Only this time, instead of handing her a bowl of sludge at the end of the morning, he offered her a plate of what he'd been cooking, garnished with slices of fresh fruit. She'd looked at him in surprise, grateful and guilty, and he just shrugged off her thanks before making his rounds.
The rest of the day, she helps Jake rearrange the armory under Scrap's scrutiny, much to her unease. He comes to check on them every so often- if only to tell them that they're doing everything wrong- and directs them on how he wants the various rounds of ammunition categorized; then he disappears to his cot. His presence terrifies Brittany, because she's absolutely certain that when the truth comes out– that is, when the Pirates learn of her deceit- he would be the one to execute her.
At nightfall, Jake recruits her to help light the ship's lanterns, and once she's finished, Captain TigerShark- whose name Jake had informed her of previously- gestures for her to follow him up to the half deck near the rear of the ship, where Santana stands, silent and leaning against the deck rail with her arms crossed, shrouded in the patterns of the sails' shadows. Brittany's heart pounds at the sight of her blanketed in the darkness, until the Captain gains her attention.
"So- Brittany," he starts, offering her a wry smile, "it seems your time with the members of my crew has been well spent- slavery has been kind to you."
Brittany swallows. "Yes, sir," she answers, proud that she's able to keep her voice steady, though she's scared of where the conversation is heading. "It seems that way."
The Captain nods. "We're still days out from your father's kingdom. I just wanted to tell you about my expectations." He raises his eybrows meaningfully, and Brittany's stomach twists with fear. She remains silent as the Captain opens his mouth to continue speaking-
"SHIP, HO!"
-and shuts it. Santana stands up straighter, moving to the Captain's side, and Brittany waits nervously for the call from high on the main mast, hoping-
"LYCAN FLEET!"
Brittany's mouth falls open in shock. Didn't the Captain just tell her they were days away from Lycan waters? What is a Lycan Fleet ship doing out so far? Unless-
"Looks like you get to do your job a lot sooner, eh?" The Captain chuckles, offering her a boyish grin, which calms her just a little. He reaches into the pocket of his vest and pulls out a small, golden spyglass, peeking through it for a moment before offering it to Santana. "It's certainly Lycan," he confirms.
Santana rolls her eyes, snatching the spyglass from the Captain's hands. "Did you think Brett was lying?"
Captain TigerShark shrugs, still grinning, as Santana brings the golden device up to her eye, then hands it to Brittany with a challenging smirk. Brittany looks at the Captain, who nods, and she swallows her panic as she accepts the spyglass.
When she looks through it and out into the dark horizon, she's amazed- she'd looked through a spyglass Arty had in his study, once, but not at anything actually far away. Not at anything that would show the true power the spyglass held. Her moment of wonder and amazement is cut off, however, when the Captain demands, "Well?"
Her stomach tenses again, and she searches for the flag of the ship near the front- she recognizes the flag as belonging to her father, but she has no idea what the symbols on the flag mean. It's a bright blue color, with what looks like a silver shield and a red diagonal line through it. Her thoughts race as she struggles to come up with what that could possibly mean.
Realizing she's stalling and that Captain TigerShark is going to lose his patience with her at any moment, she decides to just take a bash at it. "It's, ah, a cargo ship," she ventures, her palms starting to sweat. She grips the spyglass so tightly she's amazed it doesn't shatter into a million pieces.
"Cargo?" Santana clarifies slowly, her voice low and disbelieving.
Brittany nods decisively, committing to her lie as she hands the spyglass back to the Captain, who stares out at the ship.
"What kind of cargo?"
"Now how the hell would she know that, Dia?" the Captain laughs, and Santana remains silent. "Whatever it is, it's ours." He waves his hand to the pirates working the foresails. "Take us in!"
Brittany waits, her entire body tense with anticipation, as The Tide Ripper turns and very quickly descends upon the unsuspecting Lycan ship. When they get closer, Santana takes over the commands.
"David- fire a warning shot. Henry, douse the outboard lights. Jake," she pauses to smirk wickedly, "hoist our colors."
It's eerily silent as they cut through the water, moving ever closer to the Lycan Fleet ship. Silent, and completely dark. Brittany squints, peering out into the blackness at the Lycan ship, which is easy to spot because of its lights.
"Think they've noticed us?" someone wonders, breaking the silence.
BOOM!
"They have now," Santana laughs, still sporting her devilish smile. Brittany's ears ring slightly from the deafening warning blast; she can only watch, frightened, as The Tide Ripper speeds ever faster towards the other ship; she can just barely make out the words The Orchid Heart branded on the side of it as they get close.
"They've struck their colors, Cap'n!" Brett calls from up high on the mast, and the Captain looks at Brittany, a slow smile creeping across his face at the news.
"A wise choice."
"Now what?" Brittany wonders out loud, still terrified that she's going to be discovered at any moment. She misses the subtle nod the Captain gives Santana as her thoughts fly in every direction and The Tide Ripper sidles its left side next to the Lycan Fleet ship.
What if she's wrong? What if she's-
"Now," Santana growls in response to her earlier question, grabbing her elbow roughly and escorting her to the port side of the ship, "we go get our cargo."
Brittany feels her heart in her throat as Santana guides her to the boarding planks being dropped into place to create a bridge between the two ships. She releases her arm as they reach the edge, waving her right hand, motioning for Mike and Scrap to follow her. With her left, she draws the sword at her hip, then proceeds gracefully across the bridge and onto the deck of The Orchid Heart.
Mike gently places a hand at Brittany's lower back to reassure her as she follows, feeling useless and helpless without a weapon- not that she'd know how to use one anyway.
"Surrender your cargo to us and you'll sail away from here," Santana orders cockily to the Captain of the ship, whom Brittany doesn't recognize. He's got short brown hair, blue eyes, and the name- Weston- embroidered on his coat. The other sailors of The Orchid Heart talk in hushed whispers, and Brittany recognizes their shock at facing such a powerful woman- at facing Santana.
"You're free to take it," Captain Weston says, with a rare accent Brittany hasn't heard in a long time, "though you'll find we carry nothing of value to you."
"I'm afraid value is in the eye of the beholder," Santana says sweetly.
Captain Weston nods. "My only request is that no harm befall my men."
"Keep 'em in line," Scrap growls, "and you needn't worry 'bout 'em."
"Stand down, men!" Weston calls clearly, raising his arms in surrender. He offers Santana a challenging smirk. "Let the pirates take whatsoever they deem of value."
A sailor sputters, "But Cap'n-"
"I said stand down," Weston snaps.
Santana waves two dark-skinned, beefy pirates whom Brittany hasn't been introduced to yet forward; then she grabs Brittany's elbow again. "Come on, Songbird," she mutters, dragging her up to the foredeck, where her crew has already opened the grate which encloses the cargo hold, located far below the main deck. She looks at Brittany. "Climb down." Then, to Mike, she says, "Keep it under control."
"Aye," Mike nods.
Gulping, Brittany reaches for the ladder on the side of the hole and quickly shuffles down it and into pitch blackness, flanked by Scrap, who's carrying a torch, Jake, whose presence makes her feel a little better, and finally Santana herself.
When they reach the bottom, Scrap holds the torch up to reveal stacks and stacks of wooden crates, and Brittany's a little relieved at the sight- she was right, right? It's cargo, isn't it?
"Bust 'em," Santana orders, and Scrap shoves the torch at Jake before pulling a pry-bar from his belt and easily ripping the top of the nearest crate off. The thin wooden planks clatter to the ground, and Brittany chews her lip nervously, hoping there's something good inside-
"Clear," Scrap calls, and Jake brings the torch over to illuminate the contents of the crate better. Scrap reaches inside and then holds up a jar containing a brightly-colored, gelatinous purple substance.
"Jam?" Santana asks incredulously.
Scrap raises the jar and then smashes it on the floor at his feet. The contents spill across the wood. "Jam," he confirms.
Santana slowly looks at the other stacks of crates, scrutinizing. "What else? They can't all be jam."
Systematically, Scrap and Jake rip open several crates, finding uniforms, blankets, more jars, cans-
"Nothing valuable," Santana curses. "Whale shit."
"So- we just leave it?" Jake wonders. Brittany looks at the first crate beside her. It seems like such a waste to simply leave the jam behind; she knows she could surely benefit from it- it would certainly make her hardtack more exciting. She pauses, studying the contents of the crate when a flicker catches her eye. The torchlight glints on something- something beneath the jars- and, intrigued, she digs in the crate for a moment, moving the jars aside to reach the glinting object.
"We don't need fifty crates of jam," Santana is saying impatiently as Brittany pulls out a metal brick. It's a bar of-
"Wait!" Brittany exclaims, holding up the thin bar- a heavy thin bar of solid silver.
Scrap's on her in an instant, snatching the brick from her hand. "What'n Hades?" He demands. He inspects it for a moment. "This ain't silver," he says slowly, shaking his head in amazement.
Santana sighs irritably. "Then wh-"
"It's platinum."
"What the fuck is platinum?" Santana wonders.
"An extremely rare, precious metal," Scrap says in awe, gently setting the block down on a nearby crate. "More valuable'n silver. More valuable'n gold." He digs in the crate, moving a few more jars aside, and pulls out a second platinum brick.
"Ho-ly waters," Jake whistles, amazed at the way the torchlight sparkles off the brick.
"But where'n the Great Ocean did they get a hold of this?" Scrap wonders, looking at Santana curiously.
"The colony," Brittany offers, and at the other three pirates' questioning gazes, she continues, "There's a Lycan colony near the southern tip of Orias- my father controls a mine there. These supplies must be on their way from there to the warfront, before continuing on to Lycas."
"That explains why they're so far from home," Santana nods. "But which warfront?"
"Lycas is currently campaigning for new territories in Callyst. My brother…" she pauses. "He's leading them." She feels guilty for a second; maybe this food, these uniforms, those blankets, were to help him and his soldiers and without them, he'll starve or freeze or-
"Maybe it'll send 'is ass runnin' back home," Scrap snorts. "Greedy bastard."
Or that, her thought finishes. Perhaps it will encourage him to give up the campaign and return home, safe to her father in Lycas. Duke Charles already has control over the mine and much of the surrounding area of Orias, which funds his wealth; must he attain more?
She shakes her head- she knows personally there is no end to his greed, nor his desire to attain more power. He was willing to marry her off to Prince Rory to secure more land and accrue more control without a second thought to her happiness or well-being.
"We don't have room for all these crates," Santana admits, snapping Brittany back to the present conversation.
"So we repack 'em- toss out the useless shit an' take just the platinum," Scrap agrees.
Santana nods absently, then gives Brittany a hard look. "You just found yourself a new job." She snatches the pry bar from Scrap and shoves it at her. "Start opening these crates. Remove the platinum. Don't miss a single fucking bar, or I swear on the Devil's beard-"
"What about me?" Jake asks eagerly, and Brittany's thankful for his interruption. She doesn't like when Santana threatens her life.
"Empty those uniform crates and start loading the platinum in them. Quickly," she hisses.
"And what're you going to do?" Scrap wonders.
"We," Santana starts, "are going to go search the rest of the ship for valuables. We don't want the situation to turn messy, if we can help it- these fools obviously thought that by hiding the platinum, we wouldn't find it- so we're going to pretend we didn't. Weston must've thought he could bluff his way out of this. We'll search for valuables, and, finding none, we'll take some of the food and leave; by the time they realize we discovered their secret, we'll be long gone."
"Excellent plan, Master!" Jake congratulates, and Santana smiles at him before turning to Brittany.
"You'd best be finished by the time I return. Or else..."
Santana turns sharply, making her way back up the ladder, and Scrap leans in to chuckle in a low, condescending voice, "Hope ya learn'd ta swim."
Brittany grips the pry-bar tightly at Scrap's words, her pulse beating as he moves to follow Santana up the ladder. Once he's gone, she turns immediately to the nearest crate and sets to work ripping it open, moving as fast as she can. She dumps the crate, watching its contents spill across the deck, and searches for the platinum. Beside her, Jake also tosses the clothes and blankets, clearing out crates as instructed. She learns very quickly that each crate contains three bars of platinum, and once they finish, they're left with seven full crates' worth of the precious metal.
The heavy precious metal.
Filling the crates with just platinum makes them far too heavy to carry, so they spread them out over more crates, and then Jake stuffs uniforms and some of the lighter jars of spices on top to fill the space and keep up the façade- just in case.
"Might as well, right?" He says with a grin. "I like jam."
Once packed, the crates get passed, brigade style with the help of more of the pirates, up the ladder, and within moments of the room being emptied, Santana comes back down to collect her, surveying the damage with a wry grin.
"Nice work, Songbird," she laughs, offering her a genuine- though slightly roguish- smile. Brittany wishes for a moment that she was platinum so she'd have the power to put Santana in such a good mood. Perhaps then, her wish of being Santana's friend would come true.
She touches her left bicep absently at the thought.
Santana kicks at a jar. She can't believe how incredibly fortunate they are to have been in the right spot in the vast sea at just the right time, but she's not going to question it. She's never even seen platinum before, but she trusts David's judgment. Even if it's not actually platinum, if David was initially fooled, with all his experience and expertise, then any merchant they attempt to sell the bars to will be fooled, too.
Satisfied with the utter destruction Jake and Brittany have caused to the cargo of this most unfortunate ship, she motions for them to follow her. "Let's go." She leads them up to the main deck and back across the bridge; Mike and Scrap disengage as well, detaching their mooring lines before following them across and disassembling the temporary boarding bridge. She watches as Captain Weston remains rooted where he stands, his crew motionless as they watch her ship raise its sails and pull away.
Oh, she'd love to see his face once he realizes he's been made out to be a fool- when he realizes she's smarter than him. But alas, she has other engagements.
The Tide Ripper quickly distances itself from the Lycan ship, picking up speed as it goes. Santana can't help but smile with pure joy as the wind whips her face. This is why she loves pirating- not for the spoils, though it's definitely a nice bonus she can't complain about- but for the sneaky underhandedness of it all, for the dastardly devious execution of a plan. Those rich white bastards deserve it. She's like a fucking Robin Hood.
"Shall we torch 'em?" David asks gleefully, moving to stand beside her. She crosses her arms and shakes her head.
"We flew the black flag."
"Right- we'll let them be," Puck agrees. "Unless they come after us."
"Which they're sure to do once they figure out we done made off with their platinum," David points out. "If they ain't morons."
Puck laughs. "Don't be so sure they aren't."
"They're as good as dead, anyways," Santana points out. "Once their superior finds out they've lost their cargo? They'll wish we'd torched their ship!"
"PURSUIT!" Brett calls from the Crow's Nest, and David raises his eyebrows with a smirk as if to say, see?
Puck sighs. "Well, that answers that."
Santana smiles and rolls her eyes. She shoves David's shoulder. "Get to your post, you moron."
David ducks his head. "Alright, I'm goin'!" Then, still grinning, he hurries down to the gunwales.
"STAND BY!" Santana calls, then looks at Puck. "Orders, Guppy?"
Puck laughs for a moment. "They can't out-sail us; we could just keep going, and they'd eventually lose us to the horizon and the dark."
"But?"
"But we're only a day out from home," he sighs, tilting his head in thought. "And we wouldn't want them accidentally stumbling across something they shouldn't. We'd have to deal with them eventually, anyways." After a moment, he nods in decision, then thunders out, "WEAR AND ENGAGE!"
Santana grins. "Now you're talking."
Okay, so. That's it. For now. Gosh, Santana is so precious. :3
Due to its extreme rarity, platinum was not really popular until the late 1700s/early 1800s, when scientists finally discovered how to use it. Platinum has an extremely high melting temperature, which made it hard to work with, but because of that and its other properties, it was mostly utilized to create utensils and tools long before it was popularized into jewelry and such. Even today, platinum is extremely rare and extremely expensive, so, if you're a platinum-oriented person, I hope you meet someone rich, or are rich yourself. :*
See you soon, pals! :D