Private Tales I of the Storm

[Noelani]

It had not been the reaction, nor question, Noelani had expected and it caused her to pause in the action of raising her cooked fish to her mouth for that first, tender bite. Despite who it was that was talking however, Lani took a moment to enjoy the sounds of her mother tongue. There were not many people outside of the cluster of isles that made up that stretch of sea who spoke it and Lani wondered, briefly, if the pirate captain actually hailed from lands far closer to home than she had realised.

"I do not bend the knee," she dragged her mind back from its wandering path to the subject at hand. A look of disgust crossed her pretty features as she looked at the spot in the sand her spit had landed, then took a bite of her fish to make her wait for the rest of the answer. "The Emperor and I have an arrangement that betters the trade of my people. Trade your people are disrupting," it did not take much guessing to work out what the Mchawi witch believed was her people.

She spared the woman a withering look then took another bite of her fish.

 

[Gal]

Her blood had always been quick to boil. Her mother cautioned her against it. Her father bid her fuel her Hunt with it. And her oldest sister… she would shake her head in disappointment and look away.

But Ziri wasn’t here now, was she?

Nor were the rest of her family, for that matter. Her native tongue pained her even as she shaped it into insults so clever she could never hope to wield them in the languages she’d adopted since.

No matter. Gal relished the pain.

“You are good to lie to yourself so well.” Her lips curled into a hungry grin. “But you will give and give and give, and the Empire will take and take and take. And then, when there is nothing left to take of you, it will come for your land, and for your people, and your daughters will weep in the sand and never again in the sea, which their mother gave up so easily.”

She spat and bared her predator teeth.

“At least my people die as they lived – unchained. You?” Gal raised her brows and jerked her chin at the broken remains of the ship. “You let him collar you with gold and call it jewelry.”

 

[Noelani]

When it came to courtrooms and the dance of politics, Noelani was a master in the art of keeping her true emotions hidden and leashed tightly. What she did had always been in the best interests of her people. She sacrificed and sacrificed to ensure their trade routes were clear, that their prices were competitive, that their population flourished. To have that all called into question... Well her usual method of keeping her temper under control was thrown to the sharks. In one flourish she stood, fish thrown into the ash in her passion, and whipped round to stand toe to toe with the wretched bitch.

"I do what I do for my people to survive. It is your people who forced us to make alliances and seek greater protections. You did that when you sunk our ships to the seas bosom, when you looted and took what was rightfully their livelihoods," Lani's temper was a cold and quiet thing that was somehow more dangerous than a fiery tempo. It spoke of knives in the dark, a slow and painful thread of death. It was even in her eyes, that temptation, to take the blade against her thigh and drag it across this woman's skin inch by inch until she could peel it off with her fingers as easily as she might pluck a petal from a flower.

"I do not lie, I know what I have done and I would do it again to ensure the children on my isles can live without hunger."

 

[Gal]

Face to face now, the both of them seething with undisguised fury.

At fucking last, some emotion from this cunt. Gal licked her teeth, gleefully ignoring the aches and pains plaguing her body still. No matter the cuts and bruises, the exhaustion or the losses they had both suffered, the nazrani would always be ready to defend her pride.

“Rightfully?” The pirate snorted, chin held high. “You are owed nothing in this world. Neither am I. No one is. Grow the fuck up.”

She watched her own fierce dignity reflected in the gaze of her lone enemy – vanity and ire and a cruel, dark streak underpinning them both.

“Well, protector of your people, if you truly own what you’ve done,” her sneer curled into a smirk, “then you and I aren’t so different after all.”

Her coal eyes danced in the firelight as she brushed her fingers along the glinting gold adorning the features of the witch. Neither of them could resist the seductive whisper of a gilded legacy, it seemed.

“Did you make a good deal when you sold your soul, witch?”

 

[Noelani]

Tempests made of fire and ice clashed and twined together as the two stood toe to toe. This argument felt far bigger than either of them could embody. It wasn't just two women squabbling but rather two ways of life that were so polar to one another it seemed as though they couldn't exist alongside one another. Peacefully, they never could. There would always be this toing and froing as they battled for a place in the world order of things.

When the bitch dared to touch her Noelani's hand caught her wrist and pushed it away from her face, though she didn't let go. Instead her grip tightened around the pirates bones.

"My soul is in tact which is not what could be said for you, ʻAʻole, kaʻu cherry?"

Pointedly, Lani glanced to the scars on the woman's wrists.

 

[Gal]

“You cannot barter with Empire and come out untainted. That is not the way of things.”

Gal turned over the hand held fast in the iron grip of the mchawi, wrapping her own strong fingers around her forearm in turn. This would not be a dance easily forfeited, now.

“Did your Mother not abandon you when you needed her?”

In the only tongue where she knew how, Gal measured her words with the same slow care she would choose the right blade for the hunt. She dropped her voice low and let it meld with the sounds of the island – the crack of campfire embers, the soft lap of the waves, the nightsong of jungle beasts.

“If it is me who is godless, why am I not chained under the gold titans of Annuakat, aroha aʻoe?” She dipped under the chin of the taller woman and spun her poison right into her ear. “You will never find freedom with your eyes wide shut, kaikamahine a ke kai.”

 

[Noelani]

A musical laugh sliced through the sounds of their lonely island.

"You think I am the one with my eyes wide shut? You pirates constantly claim you are free and yet you have to fight for it non stop in order to survive." If it wasn't the navy trying to hunt them down and clear them out of the waters then they were at one anothers throats stealing the wealth from their brethren. "Unable to trust people, unable to sleep without a blade beneath the pillow... how is that freedom?"

She didn't try and draw her hand away from their twisted version of a soldiers handshake. Comrades of the same isle separated so vastly by ideologies that they would always fight on opposite sides of the wars to come.

"People walk our sands without fear or need to worry about where their next meal comes from or whether their own sister will stab them in the back. If your Freedom comes with the cost of loneliness then it's not a freedom I care to dabble in."

 

[Gal]

“What is life if not a struggle, seawitch?” She raised her brows, voice lilting – a soft rebuke instead of a harsh one. “Do you not hunt to eat? For meat? For the safety of your people, your land, your riches?”

It was the nazrani who released her instead, now that the ice abated and the muscles under her hand fell slack. Indecision? Exhaustion? Fear? It did not matter – she had ruffled the feathers of this bird, and that was enough for Gal.

At least for tonight.

“People walk your sands without worry because you have chosen to shoulder the burden in their stead. And today they might be happy, but a day will come when you are long gone, and they have forgotten how to carry the weight at all.” Her arms went still at her sides but she remained close enough for her cool breath to wash along heated skin. “That is the day the Empire will eat you alive, and your people will be the bones upon which they build their next golden titan.”

With a slight shake of her head, Gal stepped away, her gaze lingering even where her body didn’t. “I… may be alone in my truth, kaikamahine. But lonely? Not since I’ve looked at myself in the mirror and understood who I am.”

Her eyes twinkled like two coal diamonds as she made back for her kill, casting a glance like a lance over her shoulder.

 

[Noelani]

A lance that hit her squarely in the heart.

The Mchawi Princess' jaw worked through her anger by grinding her back teeth together. What made her wrath more tragic was that a part of her agreed with the pirate. It was certainly a worry that kept her up at night; what were her people going to do when she was gone? One day she would have to find a husband and ensure her line to keep her legacy alive - a heavy burden for a child not get a twinkle in her eye. For a few beats of the sea the anger kept her rigidly in place and then it left her in a rush. Tiredness was a curse upon her skin etched into every line and slump of her muscles.

"We will never understand one another," not an admittance of defeat per see but certainly an admission the woman had spoken uncomfortable truths. With a soft shake of her head, she turned and made her way to the cresting waves where some fish came close to scavenge.

 

[Gal]

Her mouth curled into a smile at those words, but Gal never replied. She captured them and savored them like she would with any good prey, content with the spoils of her hunt tonight.

Both of them.

Sitting down on her own patch of damp sand, the pirate let go of the tension in her limbs by degrees. Now that the adrenaline of their little argument drained away, she was left only with ache and fatigue again. The wound on her forearm pulsed, raw and vicious like no other scrape on her body.

But then, freedom always came at a price.

She cast another glance at the figure of the seawitch in the surf, then tore into her catch with her bare hands. Fire was a luxury, not a necessity. As relicts of a bygone age, her people had kept all of their sharp edges – teeth and nails, and with them the taste for bloody meat.

A growling stomach had no use for propriety or table etiquette, and there was no table besides.

It should not have been so easy to fall asleep with an enemy just a few feet down the beach. But between the storm, the foraging, the argument, and the injuries, she was barely able to keep upright through her dinner.

Gal was out cold the moment she closed her eyes.

 

[Noelani]

Noelani woke up to a mouthful of sand causing her to scrunch her nose up in disgust.

The sun was far higher in the sky than she had intended to sleep to but the arduous events of the day before had taken their toll on her body and her magic. She had needed the rest and her father had always told her to listen to what it needed - especially when she needed to survive. Mother only knew when a ship would pass them by here and offer a hand off of the shore. Slowly she rolled over onto her back and sat up with a lazy stretch when she suddenly remembered the pirated wrench.

Noelani froze and lowered her arms, glancing across to where the pirate had slept the night before. Mother could she snore like the pig she had butchered. It had been hard enough to fall asleep with such deep thoughts on her mind without that racket going on. With a grunt she pushed herself to her feet and grabbed the wineskin she had found on one of the bodies yesterday. The sweet liquor helped with the sand on her tongue.

Still sipping it she walked over to Gal and nudged her with her foot.

"Get up, we need to get off this island," for us much as she had to-ed and fro-ed over it yesterday, the fact remained it would be easier with a second set of hands.

 

[Gal]

Ngalu Do’Zei Imla Iwi Lua did not snore. What the witch had endured during the night were likely only her own loud thoughts, rattling about her skull.

It was the sort of thing that happened when you had too much empty space up there.

Still, the pirate came-to with all the grace of a cat left out in the rain – foul-mouthed and foul-tempered. She stared at the offending foot for a few moments before rolling over and picking herself up from the beach. A cloud of sand peeled off her skin and salt-stiff clothes. Gal ignored them, and snatched the skin for herself.

She handed it back once her parched throat had been slaked, wiping her chin as she stared at the other woman.

“You’ve decided to work with me, then?” It came out less threatening than she’d’ve liked, a dry croak where a sharp retort ought to be.

Oh, well.

Gal bent over to pick up her makeshift stone spear, inspecting its shoddy make in the harsh light of day. Her mouth curled into a scowl. She needed a better weapon.

The few corpses still littering the coast were barren, she’d checked that much yesterday. The weather had held through the night, so the waves wouldn’t have washed anything new ashore either.

With no small amount of dread, the nazrani wrenched her gaze from the shore to the sea. Her dagger had drowned somewhere in those gray depths, buried in the sand.

Watching.

Waiting.

Gal closed her eyes. “Give me a moment.”

She forced her aching limbs into motion and waded into the shallows like a child from the deep continent seeing the great expanse for the first time – uncertain, awed, and afraid. She shivered a little as she stood with the waves lapping at her knees, even with the morning sun beating down in her shoulders.

Then the water turned ink-black around her, bubbling and boiling with a life all of its own. Gal drew in sharp, quick breaths and ignored the whispers that licked around her on hungry tongues of foam.

She was a hunter.

She was patient.

She plunged her hand into the sea, swift as a snake, and pulled it out with the dagger gleaming in her grip. It was dry as soon as she held it up in the sun, and there wasn’t a single trace of rust on its fine blue blade. Gal breathed hard and watched the sea retreat from her like a brow-beaten beast, a dog fleeing its tail between its legs.

“Lead the way, kaikamahine,” she said as she rejoined the mchawi, the dagger once more secure on her hip.

It would be back.

It would always be back.

 

[Noelani]

"I've decided to use the resources available," Noelani replied with her own dry, rasping voice. When she was handed back the skin she took another small sip of it; who knew when they would get anything else. In this heat they would need water in order to survive which might mean a trek into the forests at their backs. The pirate had survived on her jaunt so it couldn't be particularly dangerous but it still wasn't a place she would like to go for a stroll in.

Her thoughts were interrupted from their dark path when she saw the sea around the pirate turn black. Under her breath she whispered several oaths to the Mother as her eyes grew large. The Seawitch had seen the sea do many things in her time but boiling and turning black had never indicated anything good. And what was it the wretch pulled from it? A knife? It made Lani's skin crawl. When the pirate made her way back up the beach she cast a wary glance to the blade at her hip then set off down the beach.

"I suggest we start a large fire; the bigger the better. From the stars last night I would say we did not get swept too far from our course so ships should pass us. Thick black smoke will be seen for leagues and it might be our ticket off of here."

 

[Gal]

“You think you would use me?” Gal asked as she fell in step with the other woman.

Her spirits had returned along with the dagger – both figuratively and literally. The plan wasn’t a bad one. A standard, really, to put together a grand pyre and hope to any gods you might serve that a ship spots you. Only one problem, really.

“We’re on the Maha Motu Pango,” she said, gesturing with her spear to the black sand surrounding them. “One of them, anyway. A ship that would take a chance on stopping here will not be crewed by friendly sailors.”

The pirate glanced at the mchawi, an edge to her dark eyes that belied her blithe tone. “I hope you like slavers, kaikamahine.”

With that, she turned and marched into the jungle, retracing her yesterpaths towards the nearest cluster of strong be’aui trees she’d come across. Their wood was soft enough to chop with the poor tools they had, and its wide veins would dry quickly under the summer sun.

 

[Noelani]

Lani grimaced and watched her go. She hadn't missed what the sand told her but it wasn't something she really wanted to dwell on. Slavery was outlawed in the Empire - it was one of the many things that had made Gerra so popular with the people - but it was also as hard to control as piracy. She also, technically, couldn't obstruct the trade from Empire waters if the ships had proper documentation. They just weren't allowed to sell their goods on their shores.

If it was a slavers ship that docked for them then there were a multitude of things that could happen. The most obvious would be that they try and turn the pair into slaves themselves and sell them. Another option would be that when Noelani announced who exactly she was they took her for ransom, or they killed her anyway. None of the scenarios she had been over the night before had not resulted in a fight.

It was partly why she knew she needed the pirate.

With a sigh she shook her head and set about piling the firewood that was on the shore into a pile and starting it. The fresh supple wood Gal brought back would turn the smoke black and from there it would be a case of growing it higher and higher.

 

[Gal]

While the seawitch busied herself with the flotsam on the beach, Gal pushed deeper into the untamed thicket. The rising sun had quieted the jungle – dusk and dawn were the twilight hours when predators roamed. Her people were the same when going out on a hunt, faces streaked with paint to help them blend into the foliage.

The greenery here wasn’t so different despite the fact that they were many leagues to the north of her home. The currents from the south brought their warmth and fish with them where they washed along the Kaliti coast, sowing life where there would otherwise lord the cold dominion of Fjirstaf.

Gal brushed her fingers along a blooming orchid, its blossom the very same color of flame they were trying to ignite on the shore. The sight brought a rare smile to her lips – free of malice or guile that so often lingered in the corners of her mouth.

Her feet sank comfortably into the fragrant dirt of the forest as she stopped on the edge of the clearing. She peered at the trees on the other side, standing so still that she’d sooner be mistaken for just another shadow or a trickery of light. If the Maha motu were anything like home, big cats or the like might’ve well chosen the copse as a lair – their large, drooping leaves provided plenty of shade from the scorching southern sun, and hid the sleeping beasts from prying eyes besides.

When she finally stepped forward into the open glade, the nazrani kept low to ground, still careful of any lurking predator. There were none in the end, only a few incessant insects that kept trying to sap her blood. Gal didn’t bother swatting them away as she chopped down bushels of firewood – if they managed to steal a drink, they dropped dead before they made it to the other side of the dell.

The price of freedom.

 

[Noelani]

The oppressive heat of midday beat down upon her back like a masters stare.

It was hard work dragging the bits of broken ship across the beach to the most strategic spot. There were more than a few curses uttered as her vision swam and she had to stop to rest. The amount of magic she had had to use the day before still sat heavy in her bones and her unrestful sleep hadn't served in easing that weariness at all. She rubbed at her eyes to remove the sweat that trickled into them before flinging another piece of what had been wheel onto the pile. Lani glanced down to the splinters in her hair with a grimace and then raised her eyes to the sea.

The fire had been going for a good few hours at the least and the smoke that rose from it had darkened to a grey a shade away from black meaning it would be easy to spot against the cloudless blue sky. Lani raised her hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun and scanned the faint line where sky blended into sea. She wasn't sure just yet but it looked like there could have been movement out there. Or it could have just been her dehydrated mind playing tricks.

With a huff she strode off towards the shoreline. Her clothes were discarded item by item before she dived under the waves to relieve the burn of the sun from her skin.

 

[Gal]

By the time the smoke turned black, Gal had chopped down the whole copse. All of it.

She stared at her handiwork, her brow glistening with sweat. It rolled between her breasts, down her back, into her arsecrack. Fucking everywhere. It was another layer of grime on top of the salt and dirt, and she was sticky with it. Could hardly hold her makeshift axe anymore for fear of the haft slipping from her slick palms.

Yet another harsh reminder of why her people went about their lives in the mornings and evenings. Hardy as they were, the southern sun would end a god if he dared stand too long under its pitiless gaze.

Wiping her hands into her trousers – for all the good that it did – Gal heaved the last bounty of firewood into her arms and made back for the beach. It would have to do for the day. And if not, they would try again tomorrow. There was no shortage of meat on the island, and she was certain she’d heard a stream during her hunt yesterday. It would be a small matter to track one of the animals to its watering hole at dawn.

She returned to the shore with the seawitch nowhere in sight. Her expression soured. Of course, slacking off now the pyre was built. Between her posh accent and the magic and the command, Gal was beginning to suspect she’d been shipwrecked with a noble of all things.

Fucking off when the work got tough to— go for a fucking swim, apparently. How on brand.

The pirate dropped her bushel at the foot of the raging pyre and stalked after the trail of clothes, anger ready and simmering at a moment’s notice. It led to the edge of the quiet lagoon they’d picked for the large seastacks shielding the flames from strong winds.

“Afraid to get blisters on your fine hands?” She called out to the dark figure cutting through the water, heedless of the edge in her voice.

 

[Noelani]

Water to Lani was like the air was so most people; without it she would die. Some people would call it a dramatic statement but for the Seawitch it was a truth. Her people were descended from a creature who had come from the sea and her blood ran in every Mchawi - at least, that was how the story went. What wasn't just a myth was how quickly they dehydrated in comparison to other humans and how their strength was renewed after a long soak beneath the waves. It wasn't a weakness that she had any inclination on clueing the pirate into, even if it might curb the harshness of her tongue.

"You should try it," the Princess called back instead as she kicked towards the shore in a lazy breaststroke. "Nobody works from midday till three," she kissed her teeth and then trod water as she reached nearer the bank. Her eyes took in the pile of wood the other woman had dragged out and there was a glint of admiration in her gaze - truthfully, she had thought the pirate would go off into the jungle and nap somewhere. Work had not been what she had expected. It was the first time in her life she had been pleasantly surprised by a pirate.

Once she was able to she set her feet down and walked from the water, gathering her hair up and off the nape of her neck to wring it dry. As she passed Gal she bent and picked up her shirt, throwing it on.

"But if you insist on burning yourself..."

 

[Gal]

“Nobody?”

Her dark brows shot up. Definitely a noble.

Nothing gave a posh cunt away like presuming their life of leisure was something that applied to the whole world. That, somehow, the fruit in their bowl simply plucked itself; that the meat on their plate had hunted, butchered, and cooked itself; that the clothes they wore, the jewels, the weapons – they simply fell into their deserving hands for no other reason than being born among the luckiest twats under the sun.

Gal snorted and walked past the mchawi without another word. For all that she’d run her mouth yesterday, she was content to keep quiet today. Conserving her energy, perhaps. She doubted they’d be getting rescued anytime soon.

Abandoning her own wretched rags on the beach, the pirate pierced the cool water in one smooth motion. There was hardly even a splash as she dove under, luxuriating in the caress of the sea as it washed the stress of the day – the week – off her body.

With a flip of her black curls, the pirate emerged again, smirking at the arc of droplets that hung in the air above her for a long moment before returning to the ocean. It was an indulgent swim through the shallows that she allowed herself, content to let the ebbing waves wick the heat from her skin.

It was only after, as she stood barefoot in the surf again, that Gal realized with dawning dread that her hands were still shaking. A new sheen of sweat broke out on her brow that had nothing to do with the sun.

Fuck.

Her pipe.

Her leaves.

All of them drowned in the ocean.

“Fuck!”

 

[Noelani]

Noelani was content to not break the silence that fell over them like a comforting blanket in the depths of winter. Sometimes it was simply better not to say anything at all than to make the situation worse with the wrong things. She also felt a tiny - tiny - bit guilty upon seeing just how much work Gal had done for her idea. Of course she would never say thank you out loud or offer any praise but she showed it by shouldering the rest of the work now.

Lifting the logs and arranging them appropriately on the fire was less of a blistering chore in nothing but a wet shirt. It kept the heat of the sun and flame from her skin as she stacked the wood and placed the large palm leaves over the top to direct the smoke upwards into a chimney of sorts. The thinking behind the extra effort was that shaped smoke was so obviously human and not simple a forest fire out of control that a passing ship would be more likely to investigate.

Though the work was not as taxing after the swim it was a testament to just how hot the day was that beads of sweat broke out across her forehead within minutes. By the time she stopped on hearing Gal shout she was as drenched as she had been before the swim. The shout itself caused her to nearly drop the piece of wood she was carrying on her own foot. With wide eyes she cast about for obvious danger, snatched up her curved blade and ran back to the edge of the shallows.

"What is it?!"

 

[Gal]

Her eyes were screwed shut, her teeth bared in a rictus caught somewhere between pain and anger. It was difficult, sometimes, for Gal to tell the two apart. (And getting worse each year.)

She balled her hands into fists, knuckles white from the effort it took to still their trembling. The taste of copper bloomed in her mouth – she’d bitten down hard enough to split the inside of her cheek.

At least it stopped her hands from shaking.

“Nothing,” the pirate ground out, worrying the wound with her tongue. With a shuddering breath, she forced the tension from her limbs. “You can put that,” a nod to the naked blade, “away.”

“Just—” she wracked her brain for a believable lie, “stepped on a splinter, I think.” With a sour smile, Gal shrugged and bent over to collect her sad excuse for clothes. “The pyre’s done, then?”

 

[Noelani]

The Mchawi didn't bother to hide the doubt that wrote itself across her face in a bold brush stroke and it was with reluctance that she put away the blade. Despite the pirates assurances her eyes still swept the sand and waves for some sign of immediate threat before returning with a tight-lipped expression back to the pirate.

"Yes, it should do until tomorrow," when they would have to cleave through another tree no doubt and drag it to the sandy shoreline. It would be cooler to do it in the middle of the night but then the risk came with the predators that no doubt hunted amongst the tall palms inland. She had no intentions of surviving the maelstrom only to be some leopards dinner.

Wisely, she stepped out of Gal's way.

"We could set up a shelter encase of another storm but I do not sense rain," which was, after all, water. The seawitch crouched beside the shoreline and removed the wineskin from about her waist. It was empty after their thirsty gulps that morning and with nothing else around it would be water until they were rescued. Slowly her fingers curled and coaxed upwards a small tendril of water. White specks of salt fell away as she purified it then trapped it in the bottle. Once she was done she took a long drink and offered it to the pirate.