Arya scrutinized Captain Bloodsail as he was before her. His face was angular and weathered, framed by black hair that cascaded to his shoulders. His most striking feature was his eye, a piercing blue stone set amidst a network of scars that crisscrossed his rugged face.
Taking a cigar between his weathered fingers, Captain Bloodsail drew a deep breath, releasing a plume of smoke that hung lazily in the air. "Lazey, how'd me do?" he asked, seeking a compliment.
Lazey responded with an exaggerated display of applause, his hands clapping together with forced enthusiasm.
Arya, observing from the sidelines, recognized the falseness in his gestures—clearly, he was more fearful of the captain than genuinely impressed.
A faint smile creased Captain Bloodsail's lips, "Shiver me timbers! Wasn't expecting such a gesture."
Lazey chuckled nervously, "I be grateful, my lord."
Captain Bloodsail rose from his chair, revealing his unusual attire to Arya. Unlike other pirates, he wore a dark purple robe with swirling patterns of black, giving him the appearance of some kind of mystical figure.
With a subtle gesture of his middle finger, Captain summoned Lazey, who hurried over to him obediently.
Arya couldn't help but notice the fear etched on Lazey's face, as if he were a frightened child in the presence of authority.
"Lazey," Captain addressed him, his voice carrying a commanding yet strangely gentle tone, "Me want ye to have the rest of this." He indicated the half-burnt cigar in his hand.
Lazey lowered his head respectfully. "Lord, ye be too kind," he murmured, accepting the cigar as if it were a precious gift from a benevolent ruler.
Lazey brought the cigar to his lips, ready to draw in its rich smoke, only to be abruptly halted by Captain's interruption. "Uh-huh," the captain muttered, shaking his head in disapproval.
Startled, Lazey withdrew the cigar, a knot of apprehension tightening in his gut. He had clearly misinterpreted the captain's directive.
"I wanted ye to have it, not smoke it. Moron!" Captain chuckled with amusement.
"Apologies, my lord," Lazey replied.
Captain's expression softened slightly. "Not so simple, Lazey. Snuff it out."
Lazey moved to extinguish the cigar against the ashtray, but Captain's voice cut through once more. "Yer hands could be put to better use."
Momentarily uncertain, Lazey glanced at Arya for guidance, then made a decision. He pressed the smoldering end of the cigar against his own palm. The searing pain sizzled through his flesh, and he clenched his teeth, determined to suppress any sign of weakness.
Captain playfully slapped Lazey's cheeks in rapid succession, his tone a mix of jest and reproach. "Apology accepted... but one thing is unacceptable."
Perplexed, Lazey could only stare back, uncertain of the captain's meaning.
Captain's expression darkened slightly, disappointment evident in his voice. "Ye brought the prisoner. But yer timing was a wee off."
Lazey, feeling the weight of the captain's disapproval, responded with a hint of defensiveness. "Me tried, but couldn't do it."
Captain's response was curt. "Bloodsail tried too. But he couldn't keep him alive."
Confusion etched Lazey's face as he sought clarity. "Who?"
Captain's next words fell with deliberate weight, as if unveiling a momentous revelation. "Daenerys, come to yer captain."
Arya, standing witness to the exchange, felt something unusually haunting. Wasn't Daenerys Targaryen supposed to be dead? How could she now be within the captain's cabin?
From the obscure depths of the chamber emerged a creature of ominous presence—a crocodile, its long, dark green snout adorned with menacing teeth, slithered into view.
Silently, the beast made its way towards the captain, who greeted it with a paternal pat on its scaled head. "Me couldn't have ye, Dany. So me named my pet after ye."
Arya, indifferent to the captain's whimsical naming, found herself unwittingly privy to Bloodsail's deep admiration for Daenerys Targaryen.
Lazey, caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the crocodile, took instinctive steps backward.
Summoning his courage, Lazey dared to voice his confusion. "Why did you bring Miss Daenerys here?"
Captain's eyes gleamed with an unusual fervor as he grasped Lazey's shoulder firmly. "It's not just Daenerys. It's yer brother, too."
Lazey stood frozen in the captain's cabin, his heart sinking like a stone in icy waters. Captain's words reverberated in his mind, a chilling echo that confirmed his worst fears.
"Ye were late in following me orders, so me gave Mazey as lunch to my beautiful pet," the captain clarified, his tone matter-of-fact yet laced with a cruel edge.
Thunderstruck, Lazey felt a surge of horror and guilt course through him, as if a dagger had pierced his very being.
Mazey, his brother, now sacrificed for a beast's appetite because of his own little mistake. Yet, consumed by fear and cowardice, he dared not utter a single word in protest or remorse.
Captain, mocking him, asked a question. "Yer captain did the right thing, Lazey?"
Lazey's gaze remained fixed on the floor, unable to meet the captain's eyes. Shame and despair gripped him tightly, rendering him mute and motionless in the face of such callousness.
"My lord be always right," Lazey said in a defeated voice.
The captain's hand reached out, tousling Lazey's hair with a mix of patronizing fondness and amusement. "Ye be a loyal one," he remarked. "Now speak about this boy. Who be he?"
Lazey's gaze was vacant, his mind struggling to grasp the reality of the situation. He felt numb, disconnected from the gravity of his words and the weight of the captain's expectations. "The boy, my lord, he is…"
Before Lazey could finish his sentence, Captain silenced him abruptly, pressing a finger to his trembling lips. "Sshhhh…" he whispered, his eyes gleaming
with menace. "He looks to have a tongue. Me want to hear his manly voice."