Chapter Six: Black Raven

Cock-a-doodle-doo!

Jane groaned at the nearby crowing of a rooster, pulling her pillow over her head. It was far too early to be morning already. Blasted birds and their need to be a bloody nuisance.

But the pillow was not enough. The bird crowed again, further jarring her from her restful state as the noise was reminder enough that she was not in her own bed. Neither her home in South Hampton nor Kingston had ever had chickens on the property. Father never would have allowed it.

She rolled over on the bed, trying desperately to find the peacefulness of sleep once more, but her thoughts could not be so easily dislodged. Oh, Father. Not for the first time, she wondered how he had reacted to discovering her missing yet again. She had run away often enough that he probably did not even care, figuring she would be caught and sent home as she always was. But she had been extra careful this time, jumping onto a fishing boat in Kingston and boarding a merchant vessel in Montego Bay. Now, she was about to make another change, one that not even Uncle Erik would ever guess she would dare make: joining a pirate crew.

At another insistent cry from the bird, Jane gave up on the idea of sleep. With a whimper, she pushed herself up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Even though the straw tick of her boardinghouse room was infinitely less comfortable than her feather mattress at home, she was loath to leave it. It was likely the last real bed that she would sleep in for quite a while.

With the morning chill settling in, Jane forced herself up and hurried over to the wash basin on the nightstand in the corner of the room. The water in the pitcher left a bit to be desired, but she had long since learned not to be fussy about water for bathing. Clean water had to be reserved for drinking; anything else was wasteful.

Picking up the small towel that had been left next to the basin, Jane dipped it into the water and began sponging herself, telling herself to enjoy it. Even if there were water to use for bathing on a ship, she could not afford to let anyone see her without her disguise. As unfortunate as it was, cleanliness would be her enemy.

Oh, it was all just so unfair! The chance to play at being someone else, even a boy, had been fun as a child, but now? Now, it was just a hindrance, an extra obstacle to consider in her attempts to leave home. If only it were not necessary… but it was, and there was no point in dreaming about it being otherwise.

Trying not to dwell on the irresolvable misery of those thoughts, Jane patted herself dry with the quilt from her bed. If all went well, she would only need this to work one more time anyway. And that meant binding her chest. She pulled out the stiff fabric from her traveling bag with a grimace. It was not particularly comfortable, but it worked well enough. The flowy shirt she slid on easily hid the knot of the tied ends, and the dark blue coat hid any remaining femininity in her shape.

There, now the last bit was her hair. As much as she had relished cutting it off as a child and did not mind having it only brush against her shoulders now, it still was disgusting how stiff the brown locks always became whenever she was at sea. Even after only a week of traveling, it had already become difficult to work with. But there was no point in washing it; honestly, it worked in her favor. When was the last time she had seen a sailor with nice hair?

She absently tied a plain ribbon around the scraggly ends, the thought bringing up memories from the previous day. Though their hair had not been perfect by any means, the two pirates did look a fair bit nicer than what she had imagined – and younger, nearly as young as herself.

It was curious, really, that two such men were pirates. Whenever Uncle Erik had described his encounters with raiders and buccaneers, they were always vile, rough men – rather like Mr. Klaue. Darcy had preferred stories where the pirate was the dashing hero, a lost prince pressganged into servitude and finding love along the way to his revenge, but Jane had always thought Uncle Erik's to be more enjoyable in their realism. Never would she have expected to see such pleasant and healthy faces on pirates.

But she would not complain. She had arrived in Tortuga without much of a plan beyond signing onto the next available vessel, so when the boardinghouse owner said that the only other ship in port was a pirate ship looking to replace its whole crew after the new captain and his brother murdered the entire previous one, she had pictured the worst. Though she was confident that the story had been sensationalized, her expectations had still been rather low.

Even so, Jane had truly not known what to expect as she headed down to the port to request a position. She had hesitated at the sounds of an argument onboard, watching the pair briefly as she waited for an opportunity to interrupt. It had been easy to guess the reason for the bickering: the blond one had looked like he had mistaken a rum barrel for water and drunk it all. But despite the darkhaired one's scrutiny nearly scaring her into abandoning her scheme, he had only asked for her name and accepted her. She really should have asked for his in return, but she had not wanted to push her luck.

Speaking of that, she really needed to finish up. Grabbing the powder to darken her jaw, Jane set about the last phase of her disguise. Oh well, today she would surely learn their names and hopefully be assigned a position that didn't involve too much interaction with the rest of the crew. Even with the powder, she knew that she was getting too old to pull off being a boy on the verge of manhood, and she would rather go home than be exposed by a bunch of strangers with no escape.

Finished, Jane made sure all of her things found their way back into her bag and headed out. The darkhaired pirate had not been clear as to what time in the morning the ship would leave, and she did not dare miss it.

The streets were relatively quiet as Jane made her way to the docks. The sun was still low on the horizon, casting streaks of pink across the sky. And the ship was still in port, just waiting for her to step foot on it and commit to this crazy adventure.

With determination, Jane crossed the gangplank onto the deck. She looked around in wonder for a moment, taking in the size of it. While not as large as a merchant vessel, it was still very impressive.

"Hello, and welcome to the Black Raven!"

Jane whirled around at the chipper voice coming from behind her. A young boy had snuck up on her, though how he had done so she was unsure since he was already taller than her despite being no more than fifteen. Were pirates just naturally stealthy?

Shaking away the thought, Jane lowered her voice, "Hello."

The boy was in no way discouraged by her gruffness. "I'm Peter, the cabin boy." He held out his hand.

Jane took it hesitantly and shook it once before letting go. "John Cooper."

"Pleased to meet you." He gestured for her to follow him to a crate that was a few steps from the railing, a parchment with a quill and ink resting atop it. "I need you to sign the register."

Jane picked up the parchment. The words at the top were difficult to decipher, the spidery script not suited to the evidently blunt nib of the quill used to write them. She squinted at the page, making out: "I do so swear to obey the laws and orders of the Black Raven and its captain, and I accept that any insubordination shall be punishable in whatever way as its captain sees fit."

"It doesn't matter if you can't read it," Peter spoke up, not unkindly. "And if you can't sign your name, just use an X."

Disturbed at the thought of anyone signing a contract without knowing its contents, Jane nevertheless set the paper back down and picked up the quill. This was it. With a nearly illegible scribble of her false name, she was officially a pirate.

Resting against the railing of the quarterdeck, Loki watched as the newly hired crew slowly shambled aboard the ship. Unsure of the expectations for such things, he had neglected to specify an exact time, so they had been coming sporadically for the last hour or so.

Thor was back behind the wheel, looking and sounding far better today. Perhaps he really had learned restraint; his brother had not drunk anything the previous night as they targeted their remaining crew members and acquired even more than they had needed.

Leaning over to Thor, Loki whispered wryly, "Rather a lackluster set of specimens in the daylight, aren't they?"

Even Thor could not deny that, shrugging with a twitch of his lips. "They're no Warriors Three, I'll grant you that."

Outwardly, Loki grinned his agreement, but inwardly he felt a surge of relief that they were not. Midgardians were wastrels, but he would take them over dealing with Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg's relentless complaints for however long this mission took.

Peter raced up the stairs to the quarterdeck, holding out a paper. "Here's the signature list. All fifteen men are accounted for."

Loki took the list, examining it with a raised brow. "Half of these names are X's."

A rush of red infused Peter's cheeks. "You won't find many a pirate who knows how to sign his own name, sir."

Useless dump heap of a realm. When would he start to remember that part? Rolling up the list, Loki said, "No matter, we'll just have to remember who they all are."

Peter continued to stare at him, looking too nervous to say whatever he was thinking. Biting back a sigh – the boy could not help being a simpleton – Loki asked, "Is there something else?"

"Um, well, now that everyone's here, Captain Thor should address the crew. Inspire them or something."

Oh, this would be fun. With an amused grin, Loki swept his hand grandly at Thor. "Well, Captain? How about a few rousing words?"

Thor merely glared at him before calling out loudly, "Crew of the Black Raven, assemble!"

The clatter of men jostling to get on deck met their ears. They spread out across the deck in disarray; military men, they were not. Well, if the mission took long enough, he and Thor could whip them into shape.

What a horrifying prospect.

"Men, today, we set out to brave the seas. Today, we set out to reap her treasures. There will be dangers along the way, but today is a new adventure, a new chance to live how we want to live. Today, we are pirates!"

There were no shouts of approval, but every one of the men was enraptured by Thor's words. They all stared up in wonder, waiting for their captain to continue.

But Thor had run out of words for his impromptu speech. Seeing the lost look on his face, Loki took pity on him – they could not have the crew lose faith when they were still at the docks, after all. "Stand by to make sail! Lay aloft and loose topgallants!"

Feeling foolish at shouting the foreign commands, Loki appreciated the approving nod he received from Peter while the crew moved to do what he had said. Perhaps he should just promote the boy and let him give the commands; at least then he could be assured that they were not gibberish.

With the stress of finding a crew behind them and the aching in his head finally gone, Thor fully intended to enjoy the peacefulness of sailing the open sea.

It started out well enough. After they had made it out of the bay, Loki had handed him a primitive compass and pointed out which direction he needed to keep them headed in and then promptly disappeared back into their shared quarters, leaving Thor to oversee the ship on his own. It should have been perfect, no brother snickering at his every misstep, just the wind blowing through his hair and a giant vessel to guide, just like it had been on the way to Tortuga.

But with the excitement of Tortuga done and only a vague idea of Loki's plan to find the apple, impatience was beginning to gnaw at him. For all he knew, it could be days before they saw another ship or landed in another town. And all he would be doing was standing right here, not really doing much of anything. Why had he liked the idea of piracy anyway?

A raised voice from below him distracted him from his spiraling thoughts. Near the front of the ship, he could see Drax towering over Barton, looking disgruntled. He could not quite make out what they were saying, but he rather doubted it was anything nice.

"Peter!" he called out, drawing over the boy from where he was crossing the deck. As the boy mounted the steps, Thor asked, "How would your last captain handle something like that?" He pointed at the two men who now looked close to blows.

Peter looked at the pair and shrugged, unworried. "He would have let them fight. They need to set rank on their own."

Thud.

Barton's back had hit the deck, Drax easily pushing down the smaller man. Thor winced in sympathy. But Barton was spry, pulling himself up quickly and drawing his sword. Unimpressed, Drax pulled out his own.

"I'll bet you a dare that Barton wins." Loki's voice drifted into Thor's ear, breaking his concentration on the fight. He glanced to his side, surprised that he had missed his brother's arrival.

Processing the words, Thor grinned. "I'll take that bet." The clash of steel against steel drew him back into the fight. "Drax is as mighty as Volstagg; he cannot lose."

"Size isn't everything. Isn't that right, Peter?"

"Hmm? Oh, I don't know. Drax is pretty scary looking. I wouldn't want to fight him."

Ignoring Loki's exasperation with the boy, Thor cheered as Drax knocked Barton's sword from his hand. The larger man taunted the smaller one with words that Thor still could not quite hear, shaking his sword victoriously. Ready to call the win, Thor stopped suddenly as Barton darted around Drax, wrapping an arm around his neck from behind and using his momentum to topple the man, sending him crashing to the floor. Rolling out of the way just in time, Barton snatched up the sword and held it to Drax's throat.

Beside him, Loki chuckled. "You know, I think I rather like this Barton fellow."

"That's good," Peter piped up helpfully. "Because I think he's your new bosun."

Hoping that Loki would be able to explain the position to him later, Thor nevertheless groaned. From what little he had seen, Barton was far too much like Loki; did he really need two of them?

Heart still racing a bit faster than normal, Jane snuck her way back below deck. Even with all of her time at sea and the occasional attacks on Kingston, she had never seen such visceral fighting so closely before. That had been no mere sparring session; she had no doubt that the two men would not have hesitated to truly hurt each other if it had been needed to win.

But at least the fight meant that there would soon be order amongst the crew. After the ship had gotten out to sea, there had not been any clear rules as to who was to do what, but this Mr. Barton did not strike her as the sort to allow that to continue.

For now, though, she returned to the lower level, resuming her self-appointed task of repairing the tattered secondary set of sails. As much as she had hated all of the needlepoint that she had been forced to endure as a child, it did at least come in handy at times.

Lost in the work, Jane startled at the sound of someone clearing his throat. "Would you like some help with that?"

She glanced up to see a darkhaired man smiling in a way that was both charming and awkward at the same time. Unable to think of a way to tell him to go away, she shrugged and went back to her task. The man plopped down and grabbed the other end of the sail, picking up the extra needle.

"I'm Scott, by the way. Scott Lang."

"John Cooper."

"Nice to meet you."

Jane nodded, hoping that would be the end of it. But Scott evidently did not need much input from a conversational partner to keep going. "Did you watch the fight on deck? That Drax fellow is huge! I wonder how a person gets that large." He shook his head disbelievingly. "But I'm really glad that Clint won. Well, I guess we'll have to call him Mr. Barton now. He's the one who told me about the job, by the way. I don't like sailing all that much, but Mr. Barton always seems to know which ships are going to be good ones and bad ones."

Curious. While she would not call it a bad ship based what she had seen so far, calling it a good one felt like a premature assessment. Especially since no one seemed to know anything about their captain and quartermaster. "You don't believe the rumors, then?" Jane could not help but ask.

"You mean the ones that say the captain and his brother killed the entire crew in their beds and forced the cabin boy to watch as they slit the throat of Captain Ross?" His face scrunched as if he were tossing the idea around in his head. "Nah, I don't think so. Maybe they killed the prior captain to steal the ship, but I don't think a boy like Peter would stay if they had done anything too horrible."

"And yet, they did need an entirely new crew," Jane pointed out, mentally yelling at herself to stop engaging. She could only manage the false voice for so long before it would make her throat ache.

"I guess I didn't really think about that." He was quiet for a few moments before adding cheerily, "But whether or not it's true, that sort of ruthless reputation will spread and make other ships surrender more quickly."

Jane nodded numbly in agreement as the man rambled on, going into wild stories of what other pirates were known to do to their victims. What had she gotten herself into?