HUD: What is this? Multiple updates in a week? Whaaaaaaat?
"Grr, this is pure foolishness."
"Aye, but ye be th' reason, Grim."
"Hush it, Gibbs."
"Don't ye be tellin' me t' hush, git."
"Oi! 'ad ye not been pushin' - "
"Me? Sun must've already rotted yer skull, Grim. It ain't me yer fury should be wif - it's dat boy strapped t' ye starboard."
"Aye!" Grim groused, jerking wildly. "Bloody fool! Inciting us like 'at. He should be strap'd 'ere alone."
Anthony kept his lips pressed together tightly. His fury had already gotten him into this mess once - he certainly did not need his mouth furthering his torment. Grim and Gibbs blathered on without him, regardless, once their goading was met with prolonged silence. After what felt like ages, they simmered down to silence. Anthony allowed his eyelids to flutter close in relief.
This was the beginning of their second day strapped to the main mast, the three of them. Anthony hung his chin to his chest, stretching his neck. He felt quite spoiled to have his hat to block the most of the sun's heated gaze. Gibbs and Grim weren't so lucky - Gibbs at least had his ruddy bandana, but Grim (whom Anthony had stolen his hat back from) was without any reprieve.
For all their punishment, Anthony seemed to be taking it the best for being so green. The older men grumbled and groused at each passing pirate, bartering for drops of rum or flakes of bread. Anthony ignored the passersby, leaving them at that. His view consisted of either his worn boots or the rolling waves of the ocean. Gibbs faced the captain's quarters beside him, and Grim the bow - for whatever deity blessed Anthony with his lovely view he was grateful. Had he been forced to face the captain's door, opening each time a man called upon him or brought meals, would have had the inventor's stomach churning. To possibly catch a glimpse of him was too much.
It was odd, Anthony mused, to have such an obviously cultured man as a pirate. A captain, no less. Those men were feared beyond all else, even the devil himself held no match to the stories and lore told of the demons at sea. Anthony himself had heard some from his times spent in the bars, cradling drink after drink.
Blackbeard was said to have smoke billowing from his hat, alight with the very flames of hell. Captain Kidd was amongst the most ruthless, murdering and slaying to leave none in his wake. But above all were the tales of Dread Pirate Laufey.
He was bloodthirsty, calculating - much like Kidd, he never left men to tell tales. Everything was either viewed or legend, with not much between and even less to garner as truth. For those who managed to escape it wasn't for the Captain's lack of trying.
Stories of burning wreckages both man o' war and schooner alike were discovered days later, their embers simmering in the flesh of her crew. Always the captain's head sat atop a spire latched to the helm, no survivor to be found. Laufey had a penchant for the gruesome.
Worse still were the stories Anthony heard from workers on his father's plantation. Those men spoke of voodoo and witchcraft that had to be legend, they were so farfetched - slaves disappearing in the night only to be found burned and decapitated or drained so completely of blood that even their skin lightened in pallor. Stories of these circled amongst the workers for months before reaching the ears of his father by a trader leaving the plantation. Several of his sailors had disappeared at night, presumably to the nearby town for consort, only to be found by daylight in pieces near the shore - their heads missing with no trace of blood.
The stories of blood draining night creatures surfaced immediately and frightened the men into a curfew, ending work earlier than ever - and fueling the nightmares of a too curious and young Anthony. The only connection Laufey had to the rituals was a noted time he spent in the Caribbean, his ship docked half a league from the local settlement where the stories originated from.
Anthony swallowed. This couldn't be the same man; just his appearance alone was enough to stifle his fears. His face looked far too young for his title, for Anthony was willing to bet the captain wasn't much older than he. Still, his stories were dire.
He rested his head back against the worn wood of the mast. However, he was alive, and so were the remaining crew of the Cavalier. That negated the first rumor - Laufey leaves no living. For the others, he had no answer. The few times Laufey left his cabin to head to the deck or helm, he wore his long overcoat and wide brimmed hat. No sunlight touched his face beneath. Perhaps, with this rumor, Anthony had a suitable answer for his fair complexion -
Gibbs whispered something to Grim as they both stiffened on either side of him, drawing Anthony from his thoughts. He tilted his head slowly, straining his eyes around the mast. Fresh sweat broke out across his brow and neck when he spied the very captain he had been dwelling on slipping from his cabin.
Without his coat.
Anthony pressed back against his portion of the mast, his heart suddenly racing. He wasn't much prone to fear, but this man struck the fear of all into him, and rightfully so. At least the rumored ambrogio was just that.
The entire atmosphere of the ship and crew shifted as he milled about, boots clicking smartly on the deck. He walked away from Anthony, presumably to the helm, making the inventor relax. His eyes drifted back to the sea again, to the white crest of the water breaking free from the ship's course.
Ambrogio - immortal, to his culture. The first hunter by the same name became the first one by word of legend. Alone to hunt the darkness only to be sought by it. Anthony had heard tales of those shifting to his form and taking his name. Ambrogio in Italy, Empusa to the Greek, Lilitu to Persians - or vampyre, as these sailors would be more familiar with.
Lost amongst his thoughts, Anthony failed to notice the shift in light, the tell-tale prickle of personal space invasion creeping up his neck before it was too late.
"How do you fare?" Anthony jolted, snapping his gaze from the ocean to his left, where Captain Laufey leaned casually. As if he had been there the entire time.
"As well as dried leather," Anthony answered, his throat dry. It added to his wry tone, which drew a small smirk from the captain. "Which I imagine I shall become before long."
"Ah, perhaps," the pirate answered, his lips still quirked. His eyes seemed to glow beneath his hat. "You sound parched."
Anthony worked his throat, drawing up what little spittle he could to aide the burning sensation caused by speaking. "Quite astute of you."
Laufey's smirk only grew to show rows of too white teeth. "I have been told to be too clever for my own skin."
"As have I," Anthony answered, smiling - the action split his dried and chapped lips, but he refused to flinch. "I am sure you can see the situation I am in, yes? Not exactly the height of my trip."
"This is true," the captain drawled. He appeared to lean heavily against the mast, his side pressing against the rough rope tying Anthony down. It tightened against his chest, drawing a low cough from his bruised ribs. Laufey made no motion to shift his weight.
"A request, if I may," Laufey said instead. Anthony resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"Certainly, Captain!" He managed, cheerfully. He caught a flash of white teeth again above him.
"Do try not to rile up my men," the captain began. His tone was light, almost as if discussing weather and bored of it, but Anthony could sense an edge amongst the layers. "I cannot always be counted on to swoop in."
Anthony snapped his head up to meet the bored gaze of the captain. Defiance and anger burned his belly. "Do you find me so incompetent that I need saving from a pirate?"
Laufey moved far too swift for a man as relaxed as he was - Anthony's hat was snatched from his brow and pressed between them, shielding the pair from the eyes of the crew. Anthony assumed they turned a blind eye more than naught.
Anthony felt Laufey's cool breath against his cheek, oddly soothing against his heated skin. "No, not by a mere pirate," he hissed. A chill raced down Anthony's spine. "For I am much more than a mere pirate. That you shall know."
Laufey pushed away to his full height. The shadow cast from his hat brightened his eyes - the deep, swirling green poisoned Anthony. Had he not developed his tolerance to sea life, he knew he would be reeling. The captain, without his overcoat, was trim and lean, his chest half exposed from the open drawstring of his tunic. He wore what Jack had the last day Anthony saw him - white open tunic and dark leather pants, only the captain tied an emerald sash around his waist with a thin cutlass. Anthony swallowed.
Laufey smirked, tall and lean and far too pale. "I imagine that mind of yours understands quite well."
Anthony frowned. "Quite."
"Wonderful," Laufey said, running a loose hand over the soiled feather of Anthony's hat. The sleeves of his tunic were cuffed at the elbows to expose his forearms, decorated at the wrist with several different bangles and leather cuffs. With an action in complete contradiction of the threat Anthony received, Laufey rested the hat back over his sweat soaked hair with a gentleness that was startling. Anthony blinked up at him, knowing the confusion was evident on his face. Laufey merely raised an eyebrow in amusement.
"I shall send Goldie to you," Laufey said. "Do try not to pass out before, yeah?"
Anthony snorted as the captain walked away, too graceful for a pirate. Gibbs and Grim were suspiciously quiet beside him, but Anthony was grateful. He did not want an earful again from them so soon, especially one about the obvious kindnesses their captain was bestowing to a prisoner.
Goldie came by later, goblet and pail in tow. Anthony was first, careful not to drink too heartily. Heat exhaustion had not yet set in, but he did not want fate tempted. Gibbs was next, and then Grim. Goldie snapped back when the pirates demanded more of him, the fire in the old man still burning brightly. Anthony couldn't help but smile to himself.
"Take care, mate," Goldie said gently, tapping his chin and gifting more water. "Jus' one mor' day."
Anthony nodded, and Goldie left. Before long, the deck became nearly deserted as the sun fell. The oil lamp above the trio glowed brightly in the clear sky. Gibbs whined about his stiff neck, the only human sound on the deck. To Anthony's right, the captain's cabin was well lit.
A chill settled over Anthony as the moon rose higher and higher. Warmth escaped him desperately in the ever present breeze, where only hours before it had claimed him thoroughly. The shift in temperature had not been so bad the first night, but now found Anthony shivering. Grim snored loudly every so often, startling Gibbs loudly from what sleep he had gained.
Anthony envied them their reprieve. For the second night, Anthony could not sleep. Not that sleep had been kind to him since his capture, but nearly two days without and standing strapped to a mast in the searingly unforgiving sun had taken its toll.
The rocking of the ship was soothing. Above Anthony the sails moved slowly, fabric softly whispering against itself and rope rustling in the wind. He felt his eyelids drooping, heavy and dry from unrelenting wind. His throat burned from inhaling saltwater, his chest tight and uncomfortable from hours of binding. Perhaps, should he close his eyes, the night would pass?
Anthony rested his chin on his chest, his head hanging low. After a moment of blissful darkness, his hat fluttered to the deck. He didn't care - the wind tousled his sweaty hair and relieved more tension in his shoulders than he realized he held. The shivering, however, didn't stop.
Slowly he drifted away, the rocking and soundlessness of the ship acting as a balm. The cold left him numb as he settled further against the mast. His feet slid forward as they refused to carry him any longer, only to stop far before reaching anything of consequence.
A warmth enveloped Anthony and finally, he slept.
A/N: Share t' me them thoughts, mates! Lord knows comfort is rare amongst the demons o' th' seas.