The dog with the keys seemed to have transformed into a snarling beast in the last two weeks. He was locked up in a small cage, his fur looking matted and caked with filth. His usual keys were not in his mouth anymore either; they lay forgotten in the corner while he snarled at any red coat that came down there to feed him and his master.
The dog had liked being with the two seemingly mismatched pirates. Ragetti had absolutely adored him and whenever he was not rowing their boat, he was either hugging him around his neck or scratching him behind his floppy ears. Pintel had put on a tough front at first, but it was soon destroyed when it was revealed that he snuck the dog his own scraps of food on a regular basis.
They had even taken the time to give him a name; something the Navy had never thought of before.
Lazzaro's hackles rose as Mercer came down the stairs and chains softly rattled in the cell beside him.
Ragetti had started to gain weight again while they were in the rowboat; trying to make up for all of the weight he had lost when they were in prison. He had had no choice really; Pintel had threatened never to talk to him again if he didn't eat double of what he usually did at every meal.
He lost the weight he had gained while in the brig of the HMS Hunter, plus even more weight.
His will to live was also shot to Hell and this accounted for the heavy chains weighing him down. His ankles were put in shackles, the middle chain connected to the floor with a lock. His hands were locked in a small kind of model for the stocks and wrapped tightly with cloth, making it impossible for him to try and do anything to himself with his hands made useless.
Mercer frowned at the snarling Lazzaro as he came down the steps, his hand itching to stop its growls with a slit throat.
"Lyin' son o' a bitch…"
The words were whispered and soft, but hatred burned with each one.
Mercer snorted, resting his hands on his hips.
"The deal was that you would get a boat, supplies, and the dog." He reminded him.
"Lazzaro."
"What?"
"Et means 'God 'as 'elped'. Lazzaro is 'is name."
Looking him over, Mercer vaguely wondered how he could still be alive. His maroon shirt was open and his ribs could be easily counted. His face also looked worn and tired, his cheekbones more pronounced than usual from his sudden weight loss.
He looked more like a skeleton with skin wrapped around it.
"Pathetic." He growled. "I hate weak people."
"Then kill me." Ragetti offered flatly. The man laughed, shaking his head as he opened the cell door and stepped inside.
"I would love to, but Beckett has all ready decided that you are his new musician. He wouldn't like it if I killed you."
As the chain to his shackles was unlocked from the floor, Ragetti mustered up enough saliva to spit in the man's face.
"I won' play nuffin' fer 'im!" he growled.
Mercer's lip twitched as his urge to kill rose but he restrained himself by grabbing Ragetti's hair and yanking him onto his feet this way, making the man yelp in pain.
Lazzaro began to bark wildly when he saw his master hurt.
"I'm going to kill that mutt if you don't shut it up!" Mercer warned, twisting his hair badly. "Don't think I won't!"
Ragetti mumbled something in Italian and Lazzaro fell silent.
"And he had better not act wild when I come to collect him either!"
Once again, Ragetti gave Lazzaro an order in Italian, and the dog sat on its haunches and whined softly, lightly pawing at its bars.
"Much better." Mercer nodded, leading Ragetti out by grabbing his bound wrists and pulling, ignoring the fact that his right wrist was heavily bandaged from when he had slit it a week ago.
He brought Ragetti back to Beckett's mansion before handing him over to two soldiers.
"He wants this pirate washed up within the hour. Bring him to Beckett's office once his body and clothes are cleaned up." He ordered. He then paused for a moment, looking Ragetti over with a frown.
"Make sure you use lots of soap with this one." He added, ripping the wooden eye from his head.
For the first time since Pintel had died, Ragetti fought back.
Kicking out with legs that looked more like sticks, the lanky man swore up a storm as his clothes were removed, revealing a body that was covered in old and new scars and bruises.
The soldiers at first roughly held him down in the tub, pouring hot water over his body and scrubbing at the dirt and filth with rough sponges that scratched his skin raw.
The torment continued until Murtogg and Mullroy heard Ragetti's screams of pain and the two of them for once were able to successfully chase away their crueler comrades; pity fueling their actions.
Ragetti whimpered softly as he was left with the two of them, shutting his eye tightly as he believed that more pain was to come, but he received none and as a soft sponge was used to clean his face and cuts, he opened his eye and looked at them in surprise.
He tried to stammer out questions, but the soldiers just shook their heads and waved them off.
When Ragetti's body was rid of every last piece of dirt and filth, he was dried off and forced to wait with a towel around his waist as his clothes were washed and mended.
It had been suggested that the articles be burnt, but when the pirate had reacted violently towards this suggestion, a seamstress was called in instead.
When it was all said and done, Ragetti still looked like the living dead, but he was washed and wearing clothes that almost looked new now.
Mercer was standing in front of Beckett's office when Ragetti was being brought in, and he frowned slightly at his looks.
The man was…actually attractive when you looked past how thin and frail he was. With golden hair and one stunning blue eye, Mercer supposed that he would have been a ladies man in another lifetime.
This made him hate the former pirate more, and he roughly grabbed him by the throat, pulling him in close.
"I would do whatever I'm told if I were you!" he snarled. "Lord Beckett doesn't take kindly to rebellious slaves!"
"Then I'll be meetin' Pintel shortly." Ragetti countered with a sad smile. "Smellin' loik daises an' lilac wif clothes wot look loik new!"
Narrowing his eyes, Mercer desperately wanted to pop out the man's other eye with his thumb, but he did not want Beckett's wrath and so he merely let him go.
"I'll let you find out on your own what happens to slaves who don't obey their masters." He said to try and save face, leading him inside and forcing him to sit on the stool as his ankle was locked into place.
Ragetti snorted softly at this arrangement, lightly pulling on his chain.
"Does 'e plan on keepin' me in 'ere all the toime then?" he asked. "Ta play when 'is lordship demands et, eh?"
"Where else would you keep a songbird?" Beckett asked, leaning against the frame of the door. "You will be staying in my office and you will play that harp just as beautifully as you did before."
"Your musician, sir." Mercer said, giving him a curt bow before starting to head out.
"Shut the door behind you." Beckett ordered, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips when he saw the unafraid look on Ragetti's face. "I have a feeling this is going to get very loud very soon…"
As he shut the door, Mercer watched Beckett pick up a figurine of a soldier, and he agreed.