Private Tales The Stuff of Fairy Tales

[Gal]

Compared to the bite of the evening breeze, that glare was a warm caress.

Still, Gal summarily ignored it in favor of crossing over the gallery and delving into a small armoire bolted in place in the corner. She tossed through a few misshapen clothing items before emerging with the robe taken off some nuns after they’d raided their cloister. It was woolen, which was all that mattered.

“Put this on. You’re no use to anyone dead.” She chucked it at the girl before shucking off her own tunic to change into something denser. Cortosi coast was deceptively warm compared to the open sea that stretched between its many isles and the Āina o Ka Lā.

With an oiled overcoat securely draped over her shoulders, Gal disappeared again, only to return mere minutes later with two bowls of broth and generous slices of bread. She set them both down on the desk and settled down to eat.

 

[Selene]

The robe fell over her head, which earned a disgruntled noise as she pulled it off. She glanced at it, trying not to crinkle her nose as she looked back up to see Gal depart. She waited a moment to make sure the woman was gone, then sniffed it and hurriedly pulled it on. She shivered gratefully into the warm, her motions stopping the moment the woman reentered.

Once again, Gal earned a weary look, the woman unsure what to make of her and her manners as she sat down with two bowls and began to eat without even inviting her. A whole minute passed before Selene cleared her throat and stood, her hunger breaking down the last bit of her pride as she bent to the woman's will and played her game.

She walked over to the desk and sat down, reaching for the bowl without a word.

 

[Rob Yew]

He woke to iron and salt.

Drowning, water pouring into his nose, his mouth, flooding his lungs. They yanked him back and he hacked wretchedly, bilge water vomiting from his mouth to the floor. Tight manacles bit into the flesh of his wrists and though he struggled against the two men who held him, one arm each, he did so feebly.

His mane of hair lay drenched and bedraggled, clinging to his face and obscuring his vision as water teemed from it.

"Where am I?" he tried to say, but all that came out from his throat was a raw gurgle and more water.

Even so, the deck beneath his feet rolled in answer.

Bloody pirates.

 

[Gal]

Below, Malris shoved the drenched knight back down into the bilge, though not head-first this time. He had the face of a man who’d gone through every disease known to the children of man and somehow survived.

His personality… not so much.

“Captain wants to know who we ransom you to,” he grunted, arms crossed over a barrel chest. “If anyone. You don’t look much of a noble to me.”

Above, Gal broke the silence with nothing but a smile curled around a mouthful of fish soup. She wolfed it down with the zeal of a longtime sailor, who knew to appreciate a warm meal on the rare occasion it filled their belly.

Once finished, Gal retrieved a silver cup (stolen) and a bottle of Guancano port (also stolen) and placed them both on the desk in front of the blonde. She sat again and poured out a generous measure of the blood-black liquid into the chalice.

In the faint light of the moon between them, Gal settled back into her chair. Not a single candle was lit, nor present for that matter – a nazrani had no need for fire in the night.

“Talk.”

 

[Rob Yew]

Below, Godfrey wheezed and shook his head slowly with a spatter of droplets, like a confused ox.

Would his family pay for him? He truly did not know, but only a fool would say as much to pirates. And Godfrey did not style himself a fool. An oaf, yes. A most violent and dreadful oaf, who'd gotten three men-at-arms slain and another wounded almost to death and all to be captured by pirates.

And still...

The bards would be ravenous over such a tale.

Godfrey chuckled to himself.

"Urahil. I am Godfrey Urahil, of House Urahil from Vel Anir. They would pay for my release."

 

[Selene]

Selene ate slowly, demonstrating manners of her station as she watched Gal scarf down her meal with restrained contempt. She chewed on the bread, not favoring the stew as the drink was brought down before her.

She eye it warily, picking it up and sniffing for poisons.

"..."

She placed it back down and pushed it away, uncomfortable on hedging a bet it was clear.

"About what?" She asked crisply, not intending to make this easy for the woman. She was selling her after all.

 

[Gal]

Malris cocked an eyebrow at the wet dog of a man. Wasn’t many reasons a someone would chuckle while chained in the bilge of a pirate ship. Then again, he’d seen weirder reactions to worse situations. Vivid as yesterday he remembered how his brother laughed when al-Kamah gouged out his eye with his sherbet spoon.

“Urahil.” He stroked his chin with a growing grin. “Sounds nice, don’t it? You got any proof?”

Gal, on the other hand, had done her eyebrow-arching for the day, and settled for an unimpressed exhale.

Instead of answering right away, the pirate reached for the cup and drained a good half in one go. Her long throat bobbed as she swallowed the strong drink, savoring the burn and the warmth that rushed down to her fingertips. The silver cup sang as it hit the oak desk again with a hard thud.

“It’s Guancano. Should be fit for your fancy palate.” It was a port wine of some renown, its vineyards and casks guarded jealously by the eponymous republic.

“About what,” she parroted. “If you want your father to pay, you’ll have to tell me who he is, no? You’ve got the stink of Anir all over you, but who am I to judge?” Gal snorted and wet her lips again. “So, talk.”

The wine splashed into the cup once more, and they were back where they started.

 

[Selene]

Selene regarded the pirate skeptically, her mouth watering as she watched her drink. She had to stop herself from eagerly taking the class back once Gal refilled it. It had been quiet a long time since she had had anything but stale water from a barrel.

She brought it to her mouth and gingerly sipped, doing her best to contain her pleasure from her features.


"My father's name is Jerald Harwood," she answered after a moment of consideration. A High noble of Vel Anir. Fourth to the throne.

"If you say you merely rescued us as his ship washed ashore, you could give me back and keep your neck." If she didn't blab her out before then.

 

[Rob Yew]

"Eh? The red griffin coat on my shield and tabard. But I'd wager you don't have the heraldic devices of the Vel Anir families memorized."

Probably can't even read.

"Barring that..." A lion's smile prowled across Godfrey's lips, haughty with the promise of savagery. "Give me a sword and an opponent and you'd have your proof."

 

[Gal]

Malris barked out a laugh of his own, then swiftly backhanded the man across the jaw. “We’re a long way from Anir, you dandy prick. Might not bring you home in one piece, if you know what I mean.”

He mimed cutting off a tongue. “We’ll see what the Captain thinks, griffin boy.” With a parting snort the man ascended the steps in time to relieve Cerano of the first night watch.

“And you’re… ?” She tapped her finger against the desk once, twice, waiting for the blonde to fill in the blanks. A name, a name. Gal had never heard of a Harwood, but then she’d never sailed close to Anir. Too many navy escorts to risk any kind of runs at the merchants.

“What an offer. I can give you back.” The pirate scoffed, reclaiming the cup from pale fingers for another drink. “And what do I get in this scenario? An Anir hunting party on my ass after you cry your heart out on daddy’s shoulder? No, thank you. He can leave a sack of gold for me in a neutral port and come collect you himself. That’s how these things are done.”

Gal refilled the chalice to the very brim, black eyes keen to read the thirst with which she’d gulped it down.

 

[Selene]

"Selene Hardwood," she replied, her tone a touch dry.

She brought the full glass back to her lips and allowed herself a few more long drafts. She had never been that much of a fan of wines and ale before her imprisonment, she had been rather young for that. But after years of bland bread and salted meats, the appeal was clear.

Her hand shook ever so slightly as she pushed the half-emptied chalice away, the woman denying herself anymore.

A hard edged entered her as she continued speaking about her father. "He won't come for me. He cannot leave Vel Anir, nor would he. You'll have to settle for him sending someone."

If he chose to receive her at all... these were not the conditions of her return.

 

[Gal]

“Selene,” she echoed, her voice roughened by the wine. She perched her chin on a propped elbow and grinned. “The moon. You sure are pale enough.”

She waved away the concerns, whale leather creaking as she shifted in the chair. “I didn’t mean him personally. You nobles don’t do that, do you?” She twirled a finger in her direction. “Any kind of real relationships. Met another of you lot a while ago. She wanted slaves. Funny how that works, isn’t it?”

It wasn’t, really. No slaver she’d ever known was the laughing sort. It was a grim trade, and those who plied it just the same.

 

[Selene]

Selene's expression darkened further, his distaste for the pirate clear as day as she causally mentioned cohorting with slavers. She pursed her lips, withdrawing her arms to herself and wrapping the wool robe tighter to herself. She wondered briefly who it belonged to, the thick scent of incense still lingering on its fibers.

"Not entirely. That's all the girls of nobility are. Property to be bought and barted." Her bitterness seeped into her tone. "How you could betray your own like this, I do not understand."

 

[Gal]

“My own?”

Had all those years in the sun soured her brain?

“First I’m a lowborn, now you claim we’re kin.” Gal let out an indignant snort. “Make up your mind, Lady Harwood.”

 

[Selene]

"We're both woman," she stated firmly. "It doesn't matter our station, the world isn't kind to any of us. And here you are-- overcame your hurdles to become a captain of ship. And you make threats to have me raped and sold off. As if that's what my father doesn't already intend to do with me once you sell me back to him."

The next words were not spoken but the accusation shone clear in her eyes. How could you.

 

[Gal]

Those black eyes turned incredulous before Gal laughed again.

“Our station doesn’t matter? Two breaths ago you was trying to convince me how Lord Harwood’d let me live if I’d just let you go.” She dragged out the last of the sentence into a low drawl, creeping further over the desk as mirth faded from her features. “And don’t you think for a fucking moment you know anything about hurdles.”

She pushed off the table and stood to bear down on the girl from above. “If your daddy fucks you and you don’t like it, slit his throat. Don’t sit in that chair and cry to me how the world ain’t fair. Nobody’s gonna lay down a buncha carpets for you to walk on, girl. Put on some fucking boots.”

 

[Selene]

Selene cringed back into her seat, braced for a back hand she hadn't experienced in quite some time. Still, the woman's sharp tone and imposing stance was enough to draw the old response out of Selene, even her gaze breaking to fall submissively to the floor.

It startled her how quickly she fell into this pose. And maybe it was because no blow followed it, but she felt like she could see herself clearly in it for the first time.

And it made her angry.

Don't just sit in that chair, slit his throat.

She abruptly kicked into the desk, her weak arms attempting to toss it and all its content right into Gal. She scrambled up without hesitation and made a wild dash for the door, robes flailing out behind her as she tried to toss them open.

 

[Gal]

Solid oak didn’t budge much more than a few inches but—

the surprise of it was enough to root Gal onto the spot as the girl made a beeline for the door.

Which was locked.

It rattled and shook as she pushed and pulled on the handle, the heavy hinges impervious to her feeble attempts. After a few moments of this, the pirate relaxed back into her chair and crossed her legs on the table.

“This is how you repay a warm meal and new clothes? And here I thought you nobles knew manners.”

 

[Selene]

She screamed a little in desperate frustration, hitting open-palmed at the door before leaning heavily against it and gasping to catch her breath. She didn't know what had just gotten into her, she hadn't even had a plan. She had just acted. And it had gotten her no where.

She closed her eyes, a tear slipping out as she leaned her head against the solid wood.

"One moment you want to slit my fathers throat and the next you want dinner manners. Now who's the one that needs to make up their mind."

 

[Gal]

“Me? Slit your father’s throat?” She tut-tutted and leaned forward to sip more of the wine. It was soaking a pleasant heat into her bones. The view… helped.

“Like I give a shit about some Anir noble. It was a suggestion for you, Selene. That’s how I made it past all those hurdles, you know. You’ve enough spine for it.” Gal flashed a sharp smile, eyes gleaming like obsidian in the moonlight. “You just need a knife.”

 

[Selene]

Selene turned her head, giving Gal a smoldering glare through her hair. "I'm not going to kill my father. I'm better than that," she leveled, her voice confident. "I'm better than you." She pushed off the door and turned, leaning her back against it now and crossing her arms.

Her reluctance to rejoin the table was clear.

 

[Gal]

“Ah.”

Gal pursed her lips, nodding sagely like she was actually considering the words. Like she hadn’t heard them before, on a hundred voices, in a hundred tongues.

“And so our station matters after all.” Her mouth twitched into something bitter at the corners before she tipped the rest of the Guancano down her throat.

 

[Selene]

"No," she said with that same surety. "Just what we do with it, Captain."

She pushed off the door and shrugged off the robe, tossing it at Gal. "I don't want your kindness if a meal and a robe is as far as it goes. You clothe me just so you can stab me in the back later." She shook her head, defiant. "Just send me to the cellars now and be done with it. I'm not a toy for you to fondle."

 

[Gal]

Unblinking, black eyes watched her every move as she discarded the robe.

“I never said anything about kindness, Selene,” she enunciated, slow and measured. “But I haven’t stabbed you anywhere neither. ‘S the sorta thing that’s only fun if we both enjoy it.”

She stood and unlocked the door without ceremony. “You’re welcome to walk your own self to the hold. Can’t say what the rest of the crew’ll do to you, though. Fondle you like a toy? Maybe. If you’re lucky.” Gal paused for a moment before returning to her desk, leaning to whisper in her ear. “I wouldn’t.”

 

[Selene]

Selene shivered in brisk salty air, the room's heat fleeing out around her bare legs. She stood frozen in place, her hair whipping around her as she squeezed her eyes closed a found herself forced to accept this fate. It was either this cabin. The cold waters. Or the men below.

It wasn't even a choice. And the pirate knew it.

After a moment of internal grief, she took the doors and closed them herself, fingers shaking with cold as she scrambled to twist the key.

She toss the key onto the table, kicking out her chair and flopping down in an undignified fit.

"You will write to my father then?" She asked, resigned.