-Still a little bit of your song in my ear-

May 1636

Isthar Bay, Aerugo

The sun had been shining on the horizon for hours. They should have left hours ago. But they were still in the small port of Isthar. He was bothered, worse he was furious. Riza hadn't even spent the night on the boat.

As the crew rested or played cards. He tried keeping himself entertained, but he didn't stop over thinking.

Her annoyance wasn't a reason for her to neglect her duties. Riza knew by far the best time of the winds and tides. The delay was out of place.

...

The night before...

The fucking Bradley had a terrifying presence. He didn't need to say a word to get her back covered in cold sweat.

She had been careless. She was blinded by her anger and her stubbornness. Roy was right. This was a fucking mistake. She had to find a way out of this alive.

"There's no map. There's no treasure," she muttered in anxiety.

"You're lying again. Didn't your father teach you to no told lies? Or maybe he didn't tell you bedtime stories? I know for a fact that the treasure exists. Berthol and I sailed together for years," he took a dramatic pause, only to contemplate her reaction. "I see from your face that you didn't know."

Riza gulped but kept her gaze defiant. Bradley was enjoying his cruelty. Rejoicing. He grinned. She was praying that fear wouldn't take hold of her. Bradley left no enemies behind him. She had been reckless. A fool.

"I saw you born" a mean laugh burst out of his lips as he saw her reaction." I met your mother... Like the rest of the crew, I guess. I don't know why Hawkeye called you his daughter. Is it true he threw her overboard even though her legs were stained with blood?"

"Shut up," she growled annoyed. "You just want to mess with my mind. I won't fall for your tricks."

She knew nothing of her mother. She had fantasized about her as a child. Old Will had told her that her mother had loved her very much. That she looked like her. He took care to create beautiful memories for her. Now was facing the man who had caused the death of her beloved helmsman. She felt hatred taking hold of her and Bradley noticed.

"Where is the map?" he repeated in a very slow way as if she were an idiot.

"There is no map," she shouted out loud. "That is all there is," she said pointing to the map on the wall.

He got close and gave her a strong slap that threw her to the ground.

"Where's the map?" he repeated, kicking her in the ribs, leaving breathless.

He picked her up from the ground, pulled by the hair putting a hand around her neck.

"Look girl, you came to my boat looking for this. Where is the map?" he repeated exaggerating the boredom of his voice.

"It's not your boat," she replied, "It's mine."

Bradley dropped her, and she hit the ground.

"Where's the map?" he repeated, kicking her ribs again.

She struggled to stay awake and calm. Curled up to cover herself from the blows, gasping for breath. Bradley forced her back to feet and pushed her against the table.

"Do you want to make it difficult? I can hit you until you can't recognize yourself in the mirror." he urged, grabbing her neck again. " It's not that I have a good memory of your father, to have pity on his daughter."

He gave her another slap that made taste the blood in her mouth. When he put his hand on her again, she rolled over and bit him hard. Pushing him, trying to run away but Bradley held her tight. They struggled, and she managed to escape his grip. He stretched out his hand as she escaped. Pulling on her dress, which tore, exposing part of the tattoo.
Bradley grabbed her again and threw against the wall. Ripping through the top of the dress. Dragging her half naked against the map drawn on the wall.

"There's no map, huh," he whispered in her ear pressing his body against her. "Little liar."

"Don't touch me. You pig," she grumbled trying to get rid of him.

Bradley laughed in her ear again. He drew his sword and pointed it at her throat taking a step back.

"Don't move, unless you want to be sent naked to my troop's room. I want to read the map.

She needed to get away from there. Wanted to run away. She could feel the adrenaline running through her veins. She didn't feel the cold or the pain of the punches. Just a desperate need to escape.
Without him noticing, she reached into the broken dress and took her dagger. Hiding it in the sleeve.

Several hours passed. In complete silence, when the sunbeams slipped through the window of the cabin she realized how much time she had spent standing. Her legs were going to fail at any moment. Keeping the concentration to keep her emotions in check.

"I don't understand anything," he mumbled, approaching her again and knocking her head against the wall.

Like a whiplash, the pain pierced her, and she saw it all clearly. She stabbed him in the leg. Bradley took a couple of steps back, swearing. Without looking back, she picked up a jacket on the sofa and ran.

She rushed off and ran, crashing against everything around her. Over puddles and mountains of garbage. She wanted to go home.

...

They saw her arrive through the prow scale, breathless.

"Hell, Riza, are you all right?" Havoc asked as she passed by.

She didn't stop answering, she kept rushing across the deck until Roy stopped. He was angry, every inch of his body screamed in wrath.

"There's a sight for sore eyes, Boatswain" Roy said, his voice full of disdain."I hope you had a good night, to delay our march. Where have you been?"

She stood up in disbelief. She hadn't expected such a reception. Stared at him defiantly. She had no need for a scene after a horrible night. She was tired and wanted to take a shower and sleep for a week.

"At the Arrow," she roughly replied trying to get past him.

"What? Are you crazy? What were you going to do? Kill the whole crew yourself? He demanded without any kind of gentleness, grabbing her arm. "Nice jacket by the way."

"What you're not willing to do," she coldly sentenced, couldn't believe what Roy was saying. She could feel the rage clogging her throat and swallowed tears she wasn't to shed in the face of such a despot attitude.

"Roy, I think you should..." Maes interrupted, grabbing him by the shoulder.

"Wait, Hughes. I'm expecting an explanation from our boatswain," he continued, letting rage take over his every word. "You deliberately disobeyed my orders. Did you change the Queen's course? What were you thinking? Did you spend the night there? Did you get what you wanted?

"I didn't know it was an order," she muttered, straightening her back as much as she could. "I thought it was an open debate."

"Bullshit," he replied. "Are you laughing at me?"

"No, Captain, I wouldn't dare," she replied, smirking.

There was palpable tension. No one in the crew dared to move. It was like they were afraid to breathe. They attended an unequal and incomprehensible combat.

"Is there any news you should inform the crew about?"

"He saw the map," she threw up in bitterness.

"I didn't expect anything else..." he insisted almost with cruelty.

"May I leave,?" she replied cynically.

"I should arrest you, damn it," he said in an angry outburst clenching his fists.

"As you command, My Captain," she answered, holding her hand to her forehead as she clasped her feet.

"Breda escort her," he ordered turning and moving away from them.

"To the cells?" he asked skeptically, almost fearfully approaching them.

"No, to her cabin," he answered tired. "Don't let her get out of there."

…

Roy went up to the gunwale and grabbed the wood, hoping to recover his temper. He overheard Maes approaching and before turning, he hit him hard in the back of the neck.

"Are you an idiot or what's wrong with you?" he shouted in annoyance. " Are you blinded by jealousy? I can't believe it. You've never been so insensitive."

"What do you say?" Although he was still furious, when all the stress left his body, he felt terribly bad.

"Have you seen her? Have you even looked at her? " he berated him, giving him a push.

"What are you talking about?" he stuttered in confusion.

"Roy, have you seen her dress? Riza loves that dress, it was full of mud. She arrived breathlessly, that means she ran away from something, she rushed out." Maes looked at him, unable to believe what he had seen. His gaze was full of censure.

Roy looked at him and it felt like a bucket of cold water dropped over his head. He had fucked it up. He was so jealous, so angry that he hadn't noticed the truth.

Without giving Maes time to add a single word, he ran towards the stairs.

Breda leaned against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. And without addressing him, he opened the door to the room.

He stopped at the doorframe and saw her at that very moment. She was turned back, looking at herself in the mirror. There were bruises on her body, and she carefully passed her hands over them. Her reflection looked back and he felt his heart break.

The dress was shattered on the floor, and the jacket was torn to shreds as if she had split it in pure rage. The heart-shaped necklace was lying on the bed. He looked at it with bitterness and looked up at her again.
She turned around, the open shirt showed her breasts and the bruises on her ribs.

Her eyes were full of sorrow, of sadness. She said nothing, stared at him in silence, breathing nervously. She was holding back the desire to cry, because she never cried. No matter what had happened. She held back with stoicism. Carrying on her sadness and bearing it the best she could. With one hand on her hip, she projected an image of strength, challenging him with her gaze.

He lifted his hands to his temples and gulped. He took a small step inside and gulped again.

"I don't want to talk now, Captain," she whispered barrenly as she looked down.

"I'm so sorry," he said in sorrow. "Forgive me."

She raised her head in awe and saw her swallow, closing her arms around herself in an almost self-protective way.

"I was angry and jealous, I've been a jerk," he babbled looking at the floor, embarrassed."I'm sorry.

"I noticed," she cut him sharply." Quite clear, also."

He didn't know what to say, he couldn't force her to talk, he couldn't expect her to want to talk to him. She was absolutely right to hate him. She looked like a wounded animal. Hugging herself, clothed only with the shirt, which gave her strength no matter how contradictory it seemed.

"Can I check your wounds?" he said at last taking another small step toward her.

"I already have, Captain," she interrupted him sharply.

"Fine," he replied, looking down again.

She closed the shirt with her hands, and they were silent again.

"Did he hurt you?" he said when he could no longer bear the silence that was seizing the room.

"Nothing I can't stand, sir."

Roy felt like a monster. All he wanted was to hug her, beg for forgiveness. To take out of her something more than a wounded grunt. Riza crouched to take her headscarf off the floor and complained in pain, and he looked at her with concern.

"Are you sure you're all right?" he insisted trying to approach her.

"Yes, Captain," she answered, putting even more distance between them.

"Can you stop talking to me like that?" he implored sadly, he wasn't going to give up, he was going to fight for them until there was no hope.

"No."

Roy put his hands to his face, trying to erase his frustration. The situation was overwhelming. It was sad and bitter. He didn't know how they got to that point. But he hated it. He hated being unable to turn back on that pointless madness.

"Please..." he begged in a desperate attempt.

She looked at him sadly. Her hands were shaking and she began to play with them to hide it. He needed to hold her. His heart hurt. It hurt seeing her so vulnerable. It was unbearable. Especially knowing it was his fault.

"You were right," she mused, barely raising her voice. "I shouldn't have gone there alone.

"I don't give a shit if I'm right," he shouted in a hysterical, nervous outburst. "I only care about you."

She smiled with flushed cheeks and seemed to relax. Looking at him again, she gestured him to come closer. Riza sat on the edge of the bed, her shirt open. Roy squatted in front of her and ran his hands across her body, caressing her ribs with tenderness.

"You may have a fissure," he whispered without daring to look into her eyes. "Does it hurt?"

"Yes."

"Did he hurt you?" he repeated, with his voice full of concern, running his fingers through the bruises. Trying hard not to cry.

She didn't answer, and he couldn't hold back any longer and wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her tightly. Leaning his head on her belly.

"I'm not going to hug you," Riza said, clinging to the edge of the bed until her knuckles turned white.

"It doesn't matter, I just hope you don't hate me," he begged squeezing her harder. "I've been an idiot."

"I couldn't hate you, even if I wanted to," she whispered caressing his hair.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed, hugging her. "I should have taken care of you, I should have seen what had happened, I should have..."

"Captain, please," interrupted him by resting her head on his. "I want to be alone."

"Of course."

He left her cabin with a knot in his throat. She was absolutely right to be upset with him. To hate him. He had allowed her to be harmed. He had left her alone. Worst of all, he had let rage take over in the worst moment. Guilt wouldn't let him breathe. He was useless, he was a heartless asshole.
Maes raised his eyes as he watched him climb the stairs. He tried to say something, but remained silent at the sight of his gaze.

The crew moved across the deck. He owed them an explanation, after all, he made a awful spectacle of himself.

"Is everything all right, Captain? Armstrong asked with concern.

"Yes, I'm sorry, I have some things to tell you," he filled his lungs with air and was unable to continue.

"What's going on?" Fuery said alerted, looking around.

Shouting from the port made everyone turn around and in a matter of seconds they were surrounded by pirates.
He saw him among the men, thin and with that ridiculous ponytail in the wind.

"We come looking for something that belongs to us," Klimblee shouted exaggerating his gestures.

His crew went on the attack, without a second's thought.

"Bring Hawkeye's daughter and we will leave without spilling blood," he yelled again.

That wretched rat had survived. Now he understood how they had caught her. Without a doubt he jumped into him. Sword in hand, while his men defended themselves from the attack.

Kimblee laughed when he saw him and drew his sword as well. His movements were elegant, even when they were younger, Kimblee had been an excellent swordsman. Much better than he. But that was a long time ago.

They crossed their steels.

Wherever he looked, he saw his men fighting. They were in a bind. They had been taken by surprise. But they defended themselves as best they could.
They were wounded and exhausted. But they wouldn't give up.
Armstrong with his clean fist swept away anyone who approached him. His yells echoed all over the ship. Jean, who was an excellent shooter, blocked others from climbing into the boat.

He didn't realize when she had entered the fray. There she was, sword in hand, moving with ease. She moved as if dancing. Her footsteps were beautiful but deadly.

He and Kimblee fought nonstop.

"You're a rat, Kimblee," he grumbled, giving a lunge that his rival dodged with agility.

"Come on Mustang. I just want a piece of your precious little doll," he joked jumping back and forth, sword held high.

"Get away from her," he knew he just wanted to tease him, distract him, but he felt disgusted just listening to him. He wouldn't let himself be taken by his tricks.

He put his feet well to launch a new lunge.

Bradley's men fought as fiercely as his own.
He heard someone scream. He couldn't be distracted. Kimblee stepped to his side, but he pushed him quickly. He had to take a couple of steps back to position himself again.

His opponent kept smiling, but it was a macabre grimace. Psychopathic. He stumbled on a rope, and Kimblee didn't waste his chance. He stabbed his side. The pain pierced him from top to bottom. Taking his breath away.

"Captain!" He heard Riza scream before falling to his knees, covering his wound with his hands.

"Captain!" Riza tried to run towards him, but one of the pirates threatened her with his sword.

Blood immediately covered Roy's shirt. Riza's panic expression was terrifying. He looked at the blood on his hands unable to focus. The sounds were fading around him. As if they were more and more distant.

"Stop," Riza shouted, raising her hands. "Very well, Kimblee, I'll go with you, leave my crew alone, I'll tell you where the treasure is," she said in anger, putting away the sword that was pointing at her. "Just leave them."

"No," Roy moaned from the ground. "Riza, no."

Kimblee kicked his stomach with strength making him roll on the floor, in a pool of blood. He wanted to look at her but she avoided him.

"Tie her up," Kimblee commanded to one of his men who held her from behind, catching her by surprise.

Riza winced and took one hand to the small pendant around her neck, squeezing it tightly into her fist.
The man without any sort of kindness grabbed her by the wrists. Tying them to her back.

"Let her go, you bastard," Roy mused trying to get up. He looked at his blood-filled hands before resting them on the floor. He wanted to get up on his knees, but was unable.

Kimblee gave him a sadistic smile before arriving at her and putting a hand on her back. Leading her to pushes towards the stairs.

He made a last effort to get up, but everything went black.

Hello! Thank you very much for continuing there, reading and commenting on the story.

Id9916 : I'm glad I surprised you! It's always exciting to cause some kind of reaction from readers. Thank you very much.

Gospeloak Yes! Riza is very harsh with Roy.i wanted it to seem a little unfair. . I read your review just before publishing the new chapter, I hope you like it, you nearly guess!

see you son!