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Post by american09mutt on Aug 14, 2009 22:34:13 GMT -5
Many long years ago, in centuries gone by, in ages long forgotten by almost everyone; there lived an aging Emperor. He was the ruler of a mighty empire, fair and caring and devoted was he. But his health was failing, and each of his 6 children was a worthy successor. He was loathe to choose just one of them to inherit his title, so he split his domain 6 ways, giving each child their favorite palace in different sections of the empire.
His eldest child was a fair young woman, tall of stature and as striking as a cold winter’s day. Her father gave her the northern wilderness, covered in ice most of the year, and surrounded by mountains that seemed to touch the sky. Her people were as tough as the land they tilled, but as friendly and caring as her father. They mined the earth, and made tools and trinkets from the metals they uncovered. To his second child, a dark haired young man of medium stature, he gave the dark land west of the mountains. His son had always loved the rocky coast and secretiveness of that land, with its mountain keep set high above the waves. The people there were content to live out their lives as fishermen and traders, always more comfortable while at sea. They did however, have caravans that crossed the mountains to purchase much needed tools from the mountain people.
The third child was also male. A very handsome, dark haired young man of medium build. He was given the eastern plains, miles of grassland stretching across the horizon. His people would be the roving tribesmen, fierce protectors and loyal to their new King. They raised cattle, horses, and sheep. They survived by harvesting the wild wheat that grew up among the tall grasses. The fourth child was barely more than a girl, with brown hair and fair skin. She spent many of her days in the woods to the northeast, a trackless forest that stretched as far as the eyes could see. Her people were huntsmen and rangers. They knew the forest well, and made their living under the shade of the massive trees.
The next child still was a sweet little girl with corn-silk hair. She loved the coast to the south, and the ocean, more than anything. He gave her the longest stretch of coastline he could manage, while still being fair. Her people were fisherman and collectors of sea-made treasures. They traded frequently with her elder brother’s people. And to his youngest child, a young boy no more than 6 years old, he gave the central and southwest part of his kingdom, with the largest castle. The boy had always loved his father’s orchards, but must still have some coastline so as not to be land-bound. His lands held the main trading causeway between all the kingdoms, and his people were mostly farmers.
But we are not here for a story about these 6 siblings, and the wonderful kingdoms in which they lived. Instead, it is about their many times great-great grandchildren, who no longer know the true history of their land, or how close their lands once were. Sadly, one of these descendants is an orphaned young woman who has decided that she must wed, in order to preserve the rule of her kingdom. Her name is Queen Mindy, ruler of Noxville. A headstrong and willful woman who’s best friend is in fact, a Pirate. Her friend’s name was once well known, but has since been quite forgotten. As everyone now only dare speak of her as Captain Mutt, fearsome ruler of the sea, who sails far and wide aboard her ship “The Dark Lady”.
They grew up together in the palace, but once Mutt came of age, she went off to sea, disguised as a cabin boy. She quickly gained the trust and admiration of the ship’s first owner, but he fell in love with a rare Spanish beauty. The ship itself betrayed him in the end, and he and his lady love both lost their lives. Mutt took over as captain of the vessel, as no man could ever sail the Dark Lady again. Whenever they tried, she stood dead in the water, even in the fiercest of gales.
So Captain Mutt and her all female crew sail the seas as deadly but beautiful pirates, preying on slaving ships and foreign vessels. But as benevolent as they are, they only take a small portion of each ships’ cargo, almost like a tax or toll. If you can sail past without getting caught, then you keep your cargo, if not, it is taken. It’s almost like a game, except worth real money and people’s lives. The final function of the Dark Lady’s crew is that of executioner. If any other pirates are caught, they are all killed or taken prisoner, and the ship is added to Queen Mindy’s Navy.
Our tale begins with the Queen and Captain sitting together in a drawing room drinking cold cider. The queen is wearing a lovely Elizabethan gown in dusty rose, sitting primly in a chair. The captain is sitting on a stool, elbows resting on her knees, leaning forward. Behind the queen’s chair is a very shy looking young woman wearing a plainer gown than the queen’s, but in a matching color. To the right of the chair is a lovely woman dressed in a flowing green gown. They are all listening intently to the conversation between the queen and her captain.
“I need to find a man who can fulfill the role of consort. I must carry on my line before I grow too old to bear children. This man must be good looking, of royal lineage, and be willing to accept me as the ruler above himself.” The queen explains, rubbing her eyes in exhaustion. Mutt stares at Mindy, unable to speak. “You are the only one I trust with carrying out this task, Mutt. And perhaps the only one who can find a man suitable for me to marry.” Without saying a word, Mutt nods her head, accepting the task. She listens as the queen describes what to look for, and declares that she will set off the very next day.
“I will be back home before the harvest moon rises, with ambassadors from every court. I will search our lands thoroughly first, and if no suitable match is found, I shall sail to each of the other five kingdoms. Do not fear your majesty; no stone will be left unturned.” Mutt takes her leave of the queen, and walks back to the harbor to inform her crew of their mission. The queen watches her go, eager to find a husband, but knowing that much will change, and much will never be the same. She sits in her chair, staring at the fire; knowing that if Mutt does find such a man, their friendship may take the brunt of these winds of change...
Over the next 3 months the captain rode out with a company of female knights, all disguised as men. Her personal garrison, trained by herself and as feared as any of the men in the queens’ service. They scoured the kingdom for any suitable bachelors, but to no avail. The captain returned home to the capitol, weary, but determined. Leaving her knights behind to continue the search, she set sail for the court of their neighbor to the East. A land called Guasica. In the native tongue it means “Fire Grass”, named for the way the plains glow at sunset. There she found a widowed queen who had but one son. He was a handsome young man, charming and charitable. Much loved by his people, but far too young to marry, and untrained in the way of ruling. He was a blue eyed beauty, despite his young age; you could already see that one day he’d be stunning to behold. His dark brown hair and sweet smile could stop even Captain Mutt’s cold heart, if just for a moment.
His mother begged Mutt to carry a message to the King of the Northeast kingdom, Drakenwere. She wished above all else for her son to be trained, to become a proper King. Mutt agreed, and set sail for the court of King Renius. They reached the harbor without any trouble, but had to travel for over a week to reach the king’s court, set deep within the ancient forest. Once there, she was led straight to the king’s chambers for an audience. He was quite taken with the Captain, both in appearance and demeanor. He called for his sons to be brought before them, all 11 of them. They ranged in age from 32 down to 5, and all were quite handsome fellows. The eldest one, already married, and the youngest 5, being not yet 18, were allowed to leave.
Just five were left, all strikingly handsome, well mannered, and courteous. But the 19 year old was still quite immature, and was sent on his way. The 22 year old was not the brightest lad, more prone to riding his horses than learning his letters. He was destined to join the army anyway, and was in fact a fine fighter and horseman. The 25 year old was soft-spoken and gentle, but also very intelligent. He and Mutt spoke at length, covering a wide range of subjects. She found herself to be quite content in his presence, listening to his voice with more and more wonder with each passing moment. But alas, he planned to join the clergy, content to be a disciple in the lord’s church.
Finally only 2 were left, the 28 year old and the 30 year old. Both were good looking, confident and outgoing, and quite intelligent. But the younger had a lady that he was already promised to, and was very much in love. She sent him away as well, wishing him all the best. Last one standing before her, but in no way dimmed in her eyes, was Prince Paul. In him Mutt saw a possible match for her liege, as his character and temperament would well suit her lady’s disposition. With the king’s blessing, he joined her on the trip home, stopping only once to pick up young Prince Damian on the way.
Damian was to act as Paul’s Squire, until such a time as his mother called him home to be crowned King. He and Paul hit it off at once, and Damian found in Paul the older brother he had always wished for. Mutt watched from the stern as they cavorted around the ship, playing games and practicing martial combat. She was quite content with her choice, but was still worried about the outcome of such an arranged marriage. Would her oldest and dearest friend be happy with this match? Or would she never come to love him for who he is? And finally, would their relationship as friends remain unchanged? With all of these worries weighing on her heart, Mutt returned to Noxville with all speed.
The queen is standing at the docks awaiting their arrival, a large entourage waiting at her beck and call. Mutt jumps over the side of the ship before they can even put out the gangplank. Somehow she manages to jump the gap, landing with a loud *thud* on the dock. She strides slowly toward the queen, a dark and angry look on her face. The queens’ eyes widen as she takes in Mutt’s appearance, not sure why her best friend is glaring at her so openly before the court.
“The man I brought back with me will not be leaving the ship at this time. In fact you will not be seeing hide nor hair of him until I say so.” Mindy stands there in shock, not believing her ears. “You aren’t letting me see my own betrothed?” she asks uncertainly. “No. you will not see him until I am sure of something. Don’t worry about it for now. We will speak of this in private later.” Mutt orders the ship unloaded, except for the two Princes.
Under cover of darkness that night, the Captain has the two princes led from the ship to their quarters in the castle. Damian is to stay in a room adjoining Paul’s, and nobody is to enter Paul’s room besides Damian, Mutt, and one trusted member of Mutt’s crew. Ghost, the ship’s valet, and Mutts’ longtime second in command. She is to act as both servant and companion for the lads, bringing them games and food, and handing their laundry off to the maids. In this way, none in the castle are able to catch even a glimpse of the queen’s betrothed, and very seldomly see his friend.
Ghost has become fiercely loyal to Prince Paul as well, since she has fallen for one of his guards on the long voyage home. A man named Rafael, who has been a close friend of Paul’s since childhood, being the second son of the castle’s guard captain. His tall frame is muscular and lean, his wavy black hair tied back from his hair while on duty. His caramel colored eyes always seem to know more than he is telling. His dark intelligence contrasts sharply with Paul’s bright vibrancy, making them a perfect pair of best friends.
Two days after their return home, Mutt finally allows Mindy to meet her betrothed. In a darkened room, at midnight, without being allowed to touch him. Mutt sits close by, and tells the two of them to just talk. Over the next 3 hours the two of them get to know each other on an intellectual level. Paul’s knowledge impresses Mindy, but she refuses to admit that she enjoys his company. She constantly reminds herself that it is a marriage of convenience, and nothing more.
On the next night Mutt sets up a partition with a hole in the middle, and has it centered over a chessboard. She has the queen and prince play a game of chess and talk to each other some more. She can tell by Mindy’s reactions that they are getting somewhere; that the man is slowly drawing Mindy out of her regal shell. Which is very good, considering the wedding is not two months hence. Over the next two weeks Mindy and Paul meet for chats every night, talking deep into the darkness. They slowly find in each other the values and personality they have always been searching for. They are truly falling in love. Finally, Mutt decides to have the final test.
She orders both of them dressed in their finest outdoor attire, and brings them to the room where they normally sit talking. She leads them into the center, about 5 feet from each other, then lights some candles. They stand there silently, staring at each other. The minutes stretch on, and Mutt begins to squirm with nervous tension, but says nothing. At length, Mindy steps toward Paul, then does a quick circuit around him appraisingly. Paul stands there, not smiling, but not frowning either. He looks pensive.
Finally he offers Mindy his arm, and asks her to walk with him through the palace gardens. Smiling at last, she takes the proffered arm and they leave the room. Mutt watches from the shadows as they trail their way through the vast gardens, sometimes losing sight of them between shrubberies. At one point she circles a tree trunk to find them standing together by a large fountain. They are standing face to face, and he is holding her hands in one of his. His other hand casually brushes a lock of her hair away from her face. Mutt wanders off through the gardens, leaving the two of them in private.
Many hours later Mindy walks into the drawing room, trying to find Mutt. It is the same room where she originally begged for Mutt’s help. Now she looks radiantly happy, glowing with an inner bliss. She tells Mutt all the reasons why she has come to love Paul. She gushes about his handsomeness, and his sparkling eyes. She talks at length about how it feels to have her head tucked under his chin, his arms curled around her. Mutt expresses her well wishes, and begs off, explaining just how tired she is. She leaves Mindy alone in her lovey gushiness, going back to the Dark Lady. Mindy is giddy as a school girl. Ghost is off with Rafael, enjoying his day off from guard duty. Mutt is left alone, miserable beyond compare.
As plans for the queen’s wedding go forward, Mutt sulks around the castle, trying to stay out of the way. The lovebirds notice nothing, neither do Meagan, the lady in waiting, or Sarah, the Duchess of Odes, as well as Countess Terri. But Ghost and Tangy, the valet and Lookout, notice her mood. They see her spiraling down into a dark depression. Mutt is fitted into her Maid of Honor dress, a sea-blue Elizabethan gown. Meagan, Terri, and Sarah are fitted as bride’s maids. Rafael is to be the best man, and Damian and two of Mindy’s cousins are to be the ushers.
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Post by american09mutt on Aug 15, 2009 23:47:52 GMT -5
The wedding day dawned bright and clear. Mindy was dressed in a lacy white gown, a crown of dark red flowers in her hair. Her bridesmaids are wearing light green silk, simple white flower crowns adorn their heads; their hair flowing loosely down their backs to symbolize their purity. The groom is in dark red, wearing a crown of oak leaves. The groomsmen have on dark green tunics and smaller oak leaf crowns.
The music begins to play, and the bridal party processes down the aisle. Mutt walks beside Rafael, valiantly trying to keep smiling and walk in a dress at the same time. She twitches slightly as she feels the air blowing up and between her knees, unused to the flowiness of a skirt. Hundreds of eyes follow them as they proceed, and Mutt can feel the intense stares of most of the court. Nobody was expecting to see the fearsome captain in such attire, despite her love for her Queen. The gown itself is quite flattering though, as the captain has a strong and shapely figure.
The young lady-in-waiting, Meagan, has been paired with Prince Damian. Her red cheeks and uncharacteristic silence are telling to all who know her well. The Prince’s looks and charm have claimed another willing victim. He however, is completely oblivious; all his attention is focused on flashing reassuring grins at the groom. He looks handsome in his green attire, the tunic hugging his tall frame like a second skin. Meagan’s eyes stray constantly over the wide shoulders, long arms, and bright eyes; her hand in the crook of his elbow is shaking slightly. Damian places his hand on top of hers, giving her an encouraging smile, misinterpreting her general nervousness.
Once the wedding party is settled, all eyes turn back to the massive double doors in anticipation of the Queen’s entrance. They swing slowly open, leaving a gaping maw far larger than the pair standing within. And yet the bride’s blinding white dress seems to fill the space with a soft light. Paul’s smile widens into an ecstatic grin. His eyes seem to glow with pride and admiration; his gaze reflected by everyone present.
The priest gives his blessing and begins the vows. Do you Melinda Elizabeth Kinney take Paul Michael Byrom, to have and to hold, from this day forward? “I do.” she says loudly. And do you Paul Michael Byrom take Melinda Elizabeth Kinney to be your loving wife and Queen? “I do!” he says, sounding a little triumphant. The wedding party stands back as the Queen’s ward, Marie, steps forward to twine a garland of flowers around their entwined hands. She stands back, smiling broadly at them, but her eyes watering with unhappy tears. The priest proclaims them man and wife, and tells Paul to kiss the bride.
Paul kisses Mindy sweetly, and the crowd erupts into cheers. Mindy blushes and the happy couple wave to the crowd. They lead everyone in a procession out into the courtyard for the wedding feast. The Queen and her new husband are blissfully unaware of several pairs of unhappy eyes among the crowd. But the wedding and feast afterward go off without a hitch, and then the two of them retreat to their room for the night. With the queen gone, Mutt leaves the reception feast and heads back to the ship. The rest of her crew goes with her, knowing that she will want to leave at first light. She is pleased with the marriage, but still feels unrest in her soul; an unrest that can only be cured by the sea.
Winding her way through dark alleys, past creaking street signs and yowling cats, Mutt makes her way to the graveyard. It is her tradition to visit her parents’ graves the night before she sets out on a voyage. The graveyard is dark and still, the only sound is the wind as it wails through the trees. As she kneels on the grass by her father’s headstone, she can feel the wind in her hair. She shivers, remembering how her father used to kiss her forehead as he tucked her in at night. He was always the tender parent; the one who showed her how to ride, how to shoot, and how to fight.
Her mother taught her behaviors befitting a lady, and brought her to court when she was barely 10 years old. From a young age, Mutt was embroiled in the affairs of court. The scandals, the treason, the late night carousing; but she stood apart from it all. At Mindy’s side through it all, a young lady of the court, expected to do as she was told. Except Mindy saw the fire in her friend, the vitality and rebellion that was barely restrained. When they came of age, she told her friend to set out on her own, but to visit whenever she could. This lifestyle was very much to Mutt’s liking, and she was ever grateful to Mindy for giving her the freedom she craved.
Without warning, on a sunny afternoon in her 14th year, Mutt disappeared from court. Her mother was distraught, but her father and Mindy both knew why she had gone. It was two years before she returned, her ship stopping to collect a cargo of fine wool. She visited the palace, hoping to see her parents and best friend. To her horror, her father had died while she was away, and her mother had remarried a foreign merchant. Mindy explained this to her late at night by a dying fire, doing her best to comfort Mutt.
Mindy was shocked by her friend’s appearance after just two years of separation. She was thinner than memory, with longer hair, and dressed in men’s clothing. The most amazing change was that she no longer looked like a girl. She had grown into a tough woman. Her face was weather-beaten and her eyes world-weary. But the same fire glowed in her eyes, undimmed by time or experience.
Flashing forward to the present, Mutt hears a soft noise behind her. She keeps her muscles loose, attempting to look unaware of the presence behind her. When the person is close enough, she whirls around, standing up in one smooth motion. “What do you want?” she calls. The figure is hooded and cloaked, all in black. But by the height and build it is obviously a woman. Stepping forward into a shaft of moonlight, the figure lowers her hood.
Marie’s grief-stricken face glows white by the light of the waning moon. Tears run silently down her face, her skin red from hours of trying not to cry. “Captain, I wished only to speak with you before you left. You know how I feel about this marriage. My family hails from Drakenwere, and I spent many years as a child in the court there. I find myself in love with a man I cannot have.” Mutt nods knowingly, it was plain to most of the court that the young lady was smitten with the Queen’s husband. “Please, if you could just find a man. One with a strong will and gentle hands. A man who will take me far from this court, and far from my unrequited love…” she trails off as fresh tears stain her cheeks.
There is a minute of silence, and then a hand is softly placed on her shoulder. She looks up into Mutt’s pitying eyes. “I will find him for you. Don’t worry dear, you will be free of this unhappiness as soon as I can bring him back here.” With those words, Mutt spins on her heel and leaves the graveyard, not looking back even once.
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Post by american09mutt on Aug 22, 2009 0:57:47 GMT -5
The next morning, feeling bereft of the queen’s love, the Cap’n sails out along the coast, lost and without hope. Her crew dare not mention the suddenness of their departure; afraid of angering their captain. Hoping for something to cheer herself up, Mutt sails south to the kingdom of Torrinall. They sail into the main harbor, The Dark Lady surrounded in a halo of light cast by the setting sun. A huge city sprawls away from the docks, stretching as far as the eye can see in every direction. Off to the left is the market quarter, and to the right is a sandy beach that continues on toward the horizon. Little shapes zip across the waves, practicing a local sport called “surfing”.
Mutt orders the ship unloaded, and announces a two week stay in this pirate-friendly port city. As the crew is unloading their fine vessel under Mutt’s watchful eye, a loud scream comes from their left. Searching the crowd Mutt spies several city boys harassing a young woman, who obviously hails from the country. A black look crosses the captain’s face, and she starts pushing her way through the crowd toward the group.
One of the lads has his fingers twined in the young lady’s hair, tugging on it and teasing her. A single tear brims over and traces its way down her cheek. Mutt’s hand lands heavily on the lads’ shoulder, stopping him midsentence. He turns around slowly, and the smile slides off of his face. He sees the look in the captain’s eyes, and his skin takes on a pale milky hue. His hand falls free of the girls’ hair, and he tries to back away from Mutt.
But she’s too fast for him. She takes an open hand to his face, slapping him harshly. The crack sounds out across the docks, heard by all. Heads turn in their direction, all eyes focused on the lad held firmly in the captains’ hands. A hush falls over the bustling crowd, whispers pass through the gathered audience as more people recognize the captain; pirate justice is swift and sure, and nobody wants to miss what they can feel coming.
A quick shove has the lad on his knees before the pirate lady, his pale face now bright red on one side. The young man’s friends stand nearby, eyes searching for a way out. But the sailors that populate the dock close ranks to block any attempted escape. One of them tries to make a break for it anyway, desperate and terrified. He pulls up short with Mutt’s fist buried in his stomach. With his breathe gone, he doubles over in pain, gasping feebly. A swift kick to the back of his knee has him on the deck as well.
The third boy is slightly younger than the first two, barely old enough to shave. With a quick glance at his two friends, and a brave attempt to meet Mutt’s eyes, he drops to his knees. Bowing his head, he accepts his fate with more gallantry than the other two could ever dream of. The pirate lady places one hand on the back of the first boys’ collar, and the other hand farther down his back. She swings him up onto her shoulder, strides to the edge of the dock, and tosses him into the drink.
Rubbing her palms together, she turns back around, ready to pick up the next lad. But he’s already been heaved onto the shoulders of another. A tall blonde man is standing there with the boy slung over his shoulder like a sack of wheat. Mutt’s eyes start to cloud with anger, but she meets the man’s ocean-colored gaze and pulls up short. A huge grin spreads over her face, the pure joy making her eyes light up like high noon. Looking down at her through his glossy golden hair, the man’s eyes twinkle with delight.
With the lad still slung over his shoulder, the man walks gracefully across the salt-soaked planks. His lithe figure and careful balance plainly outline of his fondness for their locally invented sport. He gathers Mutt into a tight one-armed hug; the onlookers standing nearby are split into two camps. Half of them are foreigners who have no idea who this man is, and the other half smile happily along with their Prince.
Ghost and Jilly, the older members of Mutt’s crew who have been with her the longest, move forward to hug the man as well. After the hugs are exchanged, Ghost glances up past the Prince’s ear. “Keith I think maybe you should put that lad down…” with a look of astonishment on his face, Keith realizes that he is still holding the young man aloft. Just two strides and he is at the edge, tossing the young man lightly into the water. The first young man is nowhere to be seen, and the third is still staring down at the boards of the dock.
Walking over to the youngest lad, Mutt places her finger beneath his chin, bending down to meet his eyes. “Now lad, I think I may have a different punishment for you…” the boy cringes, clearly afraid of the pirate lady. She and Keith share a knowing look. “Your highness, could there be any room in the palace for this one?” With a grin and a flourish the Prince swoops down and pulls the boy into a bear hug, rubbing his knuckles into the boy’s scalp. “I think we got a place for ‘im, IF he knows how to surf.” The boys face lights up as the Prince releases him. He promises Kieth that he can surf, but not nearly as well as his royal highness. “Well we’ll see about that. Now boy, what’s your name?”
“M-my name be Fayol, highness.” His cherubic cheeks sporting a patch of peach fuzz, his thin frame barely grown out of boyhood, he tries to stand up straight and tall. Keith ruffles his hair affectionately. Mutt looks around for the girl, finding her crumpled to her knees on the rough boards, sobbing quietly. Crouching next to her, moving slowly as not to spook the girl, Mutt lifts her face to catch the light.
“Who are you little one?” the girls’ sobs shake her body, and Mutt can barely make out the name ‘Erulisse’. “Do you mind if I call you Eru? Is that alright?” Mutt whispers. The girl nods, her sobs slowing to a stop. “You’re a very brave young woman. Brave enough to be a pirate.” The girl’s eyes grow wide, and she stares at Mutt in wonder. “Would you like to come sail with us my dear?” the girl nods fervently, staring at Mutt as if she were a saint.
Helping her to her feet, Mutt dries the girls’ tears, and hands her off to Tangy, the ship’s lookout. “Take care of her. Make sure her parent’s know where she’s going. I’ll check back in later to see how she’s doing.” Tangy walks the girl over to Thunder, the helmslady, and the two of them walk Eru to the ship. They speak softly to her, giving her gentle hugs and brushing her hair back from her face.
The girl’s awed admiration leaves a slightly bad taste in Mutt’s mouth. She knows she is undeserving of any such treatment, but somehow people just don’t seem to see her the way she can see herself. She glances up to see Keith playfully poking his young friend on the shoulder. He catches her watching, and straightens up, clearing his throat.
Looking toward Mutt, he holds out his arm with a sparkling smile. Mutt rolls her eyes, but accepts the proffered arm. The Prince, boy, Captain, and Valet (Ghost) all make their way up the street toward the palace, leaving the crew behind to finish unloading.
“Now Mutt… how dare you not tell me you were comin’ to visit?” Keith says, faking a hurt look; a look as pathetic and sad as any she’d ever seen.
“I didn’t know it myself until just recently; otherwise I would have sent a letter on ahead. You should know that by now Keithy.” Fayol gives Ghost a confused look behind their backs, and Ghost responds by rolling her eyes. She mouths the words ‘long story’ to him, hoping he’ll be bright enough not to ask in their presence. Fayol catches on fast, nodding to reassure her, and deliberately looking away.
Ghost can’t help thinking to herself ‘That one’ll survive just fine in the palace. Thrive even.’ Their small party makes its way up the main boulevard from the docks to the palace, the Prince waving to people he recognizes along the way. The royalty in this country don’t sit high on their mighty thrones, they get down in the dirt and muck of the city; a quality that endears them mightily to the people over which they rule.
Upon reaching the palace, the captain and prince are announced into the Queen’s presence. They both bow deeply, and straighten up slowly, doing their best not to crack a smile. The queen majestically gestures them forward, rising from her simple palm wood throne. “You may approach the royal person.” she announces in a serious tone. They move forward, heads bowed, stepping onto the dais.
Unable to contain herself any longer, the queen’s face lights up in a sunny smile, and she throws her arms around Mutt. “Oh my dear let me take a look at you!” she exclaims, holding Mutt at arm’s length. “My, my. How you’ve aged! You don’t look like the wee lass I used to know.” At that Mutt chuckled warmly, and gave the queen an affectionate kiss on the cheek.
The three of them retire to a cozy room in the queen’s private apartments, while Ghost and Fayol are fed in the kitchens. Mutt accepts the queen’s gracious offer, one that will allow the entire crew to stay in the palace for as long as they like. The queen sends a messenger to fetch the crew from the ship, and a guard of 10 men to be posted as watch over The Dark Lady. After many hours spent catching up with her dear friends, Mutt yawns and blinks sleepily up at Keith.
Without a word being spoken between them, he gently helps her from her chair, leading her out the door and down the hall to her usual rooms. Mutt has stayed in this palace many times before, but never with a crew at her back. This is the first time she’s visited Torrinall since she took over as captain of The Dark Lady. Opening her door, Keith motions for a servant to light the torches and stoke the fire. He leads Mutt slowly to the bed, and helps her unlace her salt-stiffened shirt.
He swiftly moves on to her breeches, pulls off her hat, and her boots, and tucks her into bed. Curling underneath the covers, she smiles sleepily up at him from beneath her rapidly drooping lids. He leans in close, kissing her forehead, and then waves the servant out the door, shutting it softly behind him.
In the hall, Keith shakes his head, thinking to himself ‘Mutt never did know when to give in. Whether it be sleep or a man that be callin’ her name. Well, one day she’ll find a man, or I’ll find one FOR her.’ He stops, gazing at his reflection in a mirror that is set back in an alcove. ‘She’s been a sister to me for too long, if I’m thinkin’ to marry her off…’ he smiles to himself, then walks off down the hallway, whistling a jaunty tune.
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Post by american09mutt on Aug 25, 2009 0:50:40 GMT -5
The curtain on Mutt’s bed is whisked aside, and sunlight streams down into her eyes. With a groan, she rolls over, but a very firm hand smacks the small of her back, causing her to yelp. Sitting up quickly, Mutt turns around, prepared to glare the person down. Instead, her eyes widen with surprised happiness.
Standing next to the bed is a very short plump woman with silvery blonde hair and grey eyes. Mutt’s dear friend Marta, cousin of the royal house and the queen’s own governess many years before. The laugh lines on her face contrast with the mock frown she is wearing. Unable to look angry any longer, she pulls Mutt into a sitting position, and hugs her fiercely.
“Oh sweet lass where’ve you been all this time? And you didn’a tell us you were coming?” she exclaims, releasing Mutt and helping her to sit up straight. “And look at you! All sea-rough skin stretched over your bones! Well we’ll bathe you first, then worry about fattening you up.” And with that Mutt is whisked out of bed and over to a large tub in the center of the room.
Soaking the salty brine from her skin, she feels younger than she has in years. Marta helps Mutt wash her long curls with a fine apple-scented soap, and adds hot water to the tub periodically. Finally finished with her soaking, Mutt clambers out of the tub, and Marta wraps a large fluffy robe around her. Marta then steers her over to a chair, and runs a brush through the captain’s unruly curls.
With her hair untangled and her skin clean, Mutt almost looks like a lady. Marta pulls out a long green and silver gown, looking hopefully at Mutt. The captain just rolls her eyes, unable to deny the old woman something so simple. She stands patiently, allowing Marta to lace her into the soft silken gown. As a final touch, Marta retrieves a simple silver chain with a single ruby teardrop hanging from it. She clasps it around the captain’s throat, settling her hair in a wave down her back.
Mutt turns around at Marta’s command, obediently looking in the mirror. And stops breathing. She hasn’t looked at herself in a mirror since she was 14 years old, and certainly not in a beautiful gown. Turning this way and that to take in all angles, she gasps in a breath, shocked by her own appearance. Her long auburn and chestnut hair hangs in silky waves down her back, almost to her waist. The ruby necklace hangs from her graceful neck, laying perfectly in the hollow of her throat.
Tearing her eyes from the woman in the mirror, Mutt gazes down at Marta questioningly. Marta has tears running down her face, and she ushers Mutt out of the room without another word. In the hall, a tall dark haired young man is standing with his back to the door, fidgeting with his collar. Hearing the door scrape open, he spins around, stopping short at the sight of Mutt in a dress.
“Aaron what are you doing here? I thought you were traveling abroad!” Mutt says, launching herself at yet another old friend, who also happens to be the Prince’s cousin. His eyes are that familiar mixed shade of ocean water, clear and bright. His dark brown hair and freckles, however, come straight from his mother. She was a fine lady from the burning plains, distant kin of Paul’s family. Aaron gathers her up in a huge hug, careful not to rumple her dress. They pull away, but keep their hands on each other’s shoulders, looking the other over carefully for any new injuries.
“And what is the infamous Captain Mutt doing in a dress, in Torrinall of all places?!” rolling her eyes and taking his arm, Mutt strolls down the hallway toward the garden, eager to tell him about everything that’s happened since she last saw him. Making their way out into the glowing sunlight of late morning, Mutt’s eyes take a moment to adjust. When they are clear of spots, she spies a familiar blonde head bobbing above the bushes to their right, moving closer.
Ducking down, she waits for Keith to reach the corner of the bush, then pops out and scares him. He and Aaron both laugh so hard they gasp for breath, then the three of them find a shady bench to sit on while Mutt regales them with her adventures. Being around her friends once more, Mutt’s age seems to show more and more.
Around noon someone comes to fetch them for lunch, and the three friends wander in the direction of the great hall, following the smell of food. The Captain’s crew are all waiting with the Queen already. Someone managed to get them into dresses as well, though several look very uncomfortable seeing Mutt in a gown. Eru is sitting silently between Ghost and Tangy, looking at her feet and trying not to stare at everything around her.
Ghost waves when they enter, but Tangy just stares at them, completely speechless. Sitting on Tangy’s other side is Thunder, who also seems to have lost all thought; her mouth opening and closing like a fish. One look from the Captain snaps them out of it, and they scoot apart, making room for the three latecomers.
Aaron sits carefully, folding himself onto the bench between Tangy and Mutt, and Keith sits on Mutt’s other side next to Thunder. Both girls are a lovely shade of pink by this point, but both men are too polite to say anything. Instead, a lively conversation is started, eventually pulling even Eru into the cheerful banter. Tangy’s eyes are a little too bright, and Thunder’s face a bit too flushed, but nobody seems to notice.
At one point in the conversation Mutt gives the lads a knowing look, and Aaron looks back at her with a sheepish grin. Keith, pretending not to understand, gestures to something with his hand, and rests it on top of Thunder’s hand. Still not looking at her, he continues talking nonchalantly, gently rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand. Glancing at Aaron, Keith raises one eyebrow in challenge. Aaron responds by placing his arm affectionately around Tangy’s shoulders. Her back stiffens, but not a word or protest escapes her mouth.
They finish their meal quietly, a slightly tense feeling on the air. After lunch, Mutt grins secretively at the lads, and announces that she is going for a walk in the gardens. Aaron pulls Tangy to her feet, wrapping one strong arm around her waist and pulling her outside with him. Keith stands and offers his arm to Thunder, smiling hopefully down at her, his face half hidden by his golden hair. Unable to speak, she takes his arm and walks outside with the rest of them.
The sunlight catches on the captain’s hair, causing the entire group to stop in their tracks. None of the ladies have ever seen her hair down, let alone looking this lovely. The reds, coppers, and golds shine brightly, reflecting the sunlight in a shimmering wave of colors. She raises one eyebrow and stalks off ahead, refusing to acknowledge their stares.
Keith puts a finger on Thunder’s lips, and gestures for her to follow him away from the others. Aaron, seeing this, gives Tangy a pleading look, pulling her off another side path. Glancing behind her, and not seeing anyone about, Mutt smiles. It was her intention all along, and she walks off down the path singing softly to herself. “I don’t know, if you can see, the changes that have come over me…”
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Post by american09mutt on Aug 29, 2009 2:59:06 GMT -5
With Thunder and Tangy pleasantly distracted, Mutt has time to mull over the next leg of their journey. Poring over maps of the continent, as well as records she’s collected of the various royalties and nobility of each kingdom, the captain decides to head to the far north. By bypassing the Lonely King’s domain, she hopes to find a husband for Marie among the people of the northern realm. And besides, she’d like to visit her good friend, a man who is very much like an uncle to her. Jolly King George.
Preparing to leave the coastal realm of Torrinall in just 2 weeks time, Mutt regretfully prepares The Dark Lady for their voyage north. She adores Keith, the queen, and Aaron, but it really is time to be moving on again; it’s the story of Mutt’s life. Tangy and Aaron spend their days prowling the castle gardens, stealing private moments whenever possible. Keith and Thunder go surfing, trying to catch every last second together before their lives tear them apart once more.
On the final day, the crew and royals wake early in the morning to gather at the ship for the farewell. All around are glum faces, the captain’s set in a frown as deep as a canyon and hard as granite. She hugs the queen, prince, and Aaron goodbye, sad to be leaving them again so soon. She hates to leave friends behind, but she has sworn she will have only one love; the sea. After kissing their loved ones goodbye, the crew boards swiftly, eager to catch the morning tide. The winds are fair and the morning bright, taking the hard edge off of the sad parting.
Sailing out of the safety of the harbor, Mutt orders Thunder to steer north along the coast. With only a map and her memory to guide her, they make their way ever closer to their destination. But first, they must pass through treacherous waters, filled with invisible rock outcroppings and dangerous maelstroms. No pirates dare to sail the waters, for fear of the Lonely King’s naval fleet; fast as a rumrunner and deadly as the Dark Lady herself.
Using the darkness before dawn as their cover, The Dark Lady’s crew runs the gauntlet past Barendun. Creeping past the sleeping towns and seaside villages, they try to catch every breath of wind. Slowly the mountains come into view, with a darkly gleaming castle sitting upon a cliffside. The Lonely King’s castle, perched high above the waves like a seabird in its nest. And why do they call him the Lonely King? Ghost quietly tells them the story as the ship flits past rocks and breakers. The Captain stands tall near the aft of the vessel, listening in, but refusing to comment.
“The Lonely King they call him, but he used to be known by another name when he was a boy. He was the Sweet Prince back in those days; the days before he grew up. You see, when he became a man, he fell in love with a beautiful young woman, a Contessa from another land. She was a lovely, petite woman who was bold and flirtatious.
“Her reddish gold hair was unheard of, her laughing blue eyes made every man’s heart beat more quickly. The Prince became smitten with the girl, along with many other men. He asked her to marry him. Offering her his love, his kingdom, and anything else she wanted. But she was a vixen; a heartbreaker. She turned him down, instead spending her time dallying with one young man or another. Never staying with one young man for more than a season.
“His caring heart was broken beyond repair, or so they say. He turned bitter, and angry. His father passed away and he became known as the Lonely King. For he swore to never marry unless for love, and according to the legend, his heart can never love again. So he rules alone from his castle on its sheer cliffside, often going for long walks along the shore, staring out at the sea.”
Her tale ended, Ghost sits back against the rail, looking at the various crew members to gauge their reactions. Tangy and Thunder, so recently parted from their beloveds, are crying against one another. Eru is staring wide-eyed at the castle on the cliff. Jen and Jilly are mulling it over, and Meggie looks unbelievably sad. CG is staring at the captain, a confused look on her face. And finally the captain, standing still as a statue, staring out to sea. A single tear running down her cheek, brushed away almost at once by her hair whipping about her face.
Atop the cliff, so small as to be nearly invisible, is the figure of a man. He stands alone, staring out to sea, hands by his sides. None of the crew can see him, but he spotted them the second they appeared on the horizon. A dark ship with black sails. A black flag with a glowing white fox emblazoned upon it, flies from the mast. A pirate ship to be sure, but not one he had ever heard of. He determined to get a look at the captain, to better identify and hang him if he should ever be caught.
The man pulls out a small eyeglass, a miniature telescope made for him many years before. Peering through it, he focuses in on the ship, eager to spy the captain and crew. His scanning is stopped short by the most curious thing. Every ship has a figurehead, a hood ornament if you will. But this one is singular in both appearance and construction. It is made of a single piece of dark wood, whitened in places by sea salt and aged by the wind and water. But it is entirely free of barnacles. In fact, if it weren’t for the slight weathering, he could have sworn that the figurehead was carved just the week before.
It was a carved image of a beautiful woman, dark and beautiful as the night sky. Her form was pleasing to the eye, well proportioned but modestly covered. The thing that truly drew him in was her face. The raw emotion therein made him weep with anguish, for her face was the saddest and most heartbroken he had ever laid eyes on. Every wooden inch of her countenance spoke of a grievous pain and torment, the likes of which no mortal man could begin to comprehend.
In those features, he saw the reflection of his own soul. With his heart so opened by this simple statue, he hesitantly moved to spy on the rest of the ship. It was lovingly crafted, well weathered and sturdy. The rest of the vessel made of a lighter wood than the figurehead, but all seeming to blend with her roughened perfection. He spotted the crew, gathered at the center of the ship, seemingly listening to one of their own as she said something important.
Then it hit him. Peering at every crew member, he quickly came to the conclusion that every last one was female. Dressed in a peacock-ish array of jewel-tones, they stand out starkly against the dark background. Shock spreads through his mind, paralyzing him for a moment. Then he frantically searched the deck for any sight of the captain. A grayish figure stands on the main deck, behind a large wooden chair that is bolted down, and looks like a throne. She is staring out at the sea with a solemn expression on her face.
She is a tall woman, wearing black breeches and a burgundy shirt. High black boots are scuffed with age and use. A battered black hat sits upon her head, with a white symbol upon it; a fox. Long curls of brown hair writhe about her face in tendrils. The danger and power she exudes, even from this distance, leaves the man in awe. Curiously she is not a comely. If there is any beauty in her, it is an ancient one; reminiscent of rough seas, a treacherous mountain pass, or a forbidding forest. And just as wild. In his mind’s eye he can see her as a cunning huntress, stalking the woods on silent feet, carefully tracking her prey.
Suddenly, the Captain’s expression changes. The solemnity is replaced by a heart-wrenchingly tortured look. Her face looks precisely like that of the figurehead’s, but somehow even more profoundly upsetting. Just gazing at her, the man’s heart feels like breaking. He turns away and walks off down the rocky shore, hoping to clear the tortured image from his mind. Her face will return to torment him, of this he is certain. But somehow, it also seems to mesmerize him; and soon he finds himself to be falling in love with this woman. An unknown, and unknowable, stranger.
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Post by american09mutt on Oct 24, 2009 23:20:25 GMT -5
Mutt and her crew safely pass Barendun, and sail on up the coast toward the frozen kingdom of Lafanos. As they approach their destination, the water has more chunks of ice, and the very air is misty with their breath. But the crew is in good cheer, anticipating the happy reception at the Jolly King’s frigid palace.
As they sail into Lafa Bay, the rigging casts rainbows onto the dark water; the ice crystals creating a floating expanse of prismatic light. The Captain’s lips are turning a cool purple, but she stands by her throne, gazing toward the shore. A rippling wave of white, black, and brown is barely visible in the distance. The closer the ship comes to shore, the more details become clear.
On the shore there is an undulating wave of activity as hundreds of people, all decked out in fur and leather, wait for the coming ship. The large sails are pregnant with the breeze, and the boat makes good time. The Dark Lady is the fastest known ship to ever sail these waters, her hull nigh impregnable. She cuts through chunks of drifting snow and ice as if they were made of butter. Her sleek bulk cresting the waves and riding them as seamlessly as the sky itself upon the water.
Amidst the massive crowd on the docks, there is one who stands out clearly. A tall broad frame covered in white fur, his bald pate gleaming under the bright northern sun. Even from a hundred yards away, the crew hears a great booming voice. “Welcome home!” As they pull into harbor, the crowd swarms toward the vessel. The tall man strides onto the ship the moment the gangplank is put down, and gathers the Captain into a huge hug.
“Mutt my dear little one! How are you!” the King of Lafanos exclaims as he holds her at arm’s length. “Come! Enjoy the hospitality of my home, and you and yours may warm yourselves by my own fire this night!” He leads them off in a grand procession up the streets. Past tightly packed, ice-covered houses. Up the long cobbled thoroughfare, and to the grand Winter Palace itself.
The crew unloads the ship quickly and efficiently, then disembark for the lengthy stay ahead. One by one they go ashore, and are presented with warm fur coats in every color from icy white to purest black. Those who have been to Laraka City before go off in search of friends and loved ones. Those who are new stay near their Captain as she is led toward the white stone palace that is nestled between two craggy hills.
Later that night, as the crew bed down on piles of fur in the main hall, Mutt sits alone with the King and his wife to share news. King George is seated in a large basalt chair, covered from floor to top in furs of infinite warmth and smoothest texture. His Queen sits gracefully on a granite stool, sewing doehide into a pair of breeches that are obviously meant for their daughter. The little one herself asleep in her parents room next door.
The Queen, not one to waste time with useless chitchat, asks Mutt to tell them everything she has experienced since she left them last. Every once in awhile the King or Queen interrupted with a question to clarify some point or another, but for the most part Mutt laid out the facts completely and in order. After a couple of hours, they sat in silence to mull over what they had learned.
The Queen was the first one to break the silence. “So the Queen’s ward needs a man does she? Well I’m sorry to say that my own brothers are all spoken for now. There are few lords left unwed these days, and I’m afraid that such a vibrant young women would be wasted in such a derelict place as this. It is lovely here, don’t get me wrong, but it is also forbidding and unforgiving.” She then turned to her husband, exchanging with him a discreet but firm look.
George clears his throat and states simply, “In fact we have in our household just such a woman. One whom I am certain would thrive elsewhere, if given the chance. I was hoping that perhaps you’d take her with you? Her husband went missing on a shipping voyage last year, and her children do not fare well in such an inhospitable climate.” Mutt thinks over the idea, and decides that she must see the women and her children before a final decision is made. She bids their majesties goodnight, and goes to her own quarters to rest for the night.
The morning dawns cloudy and cold, but the people bustle about cheerfully to keep warm. A gray mist blankets the harbor as Mutt and Ghost eat their breakfast. After dressing in extra layers of thick fur, they mount a pair of barrel-chested mountain ponies, and ride up into the hills. Several hours pass in near silence, the blanket of fog muffling all sound around them. At noon they reach a small but sturdy house, pressed tight against the side of the hill, away from the worst of the wind.
They lead their ponies into the small yard out back, then tramp up to the main door. Knocking several times, they then wait for an answer. The door is opened by a women draped in furs. Her bright eyes are set in a haggard face. Worry lines etched deep in her skin, and her complexion speaking of prolonged malnutrition. Behind her, a little boy, only a toddler, holds her skirts tightly in his tiny hands.
“Can I help you ma’am?” Seeing Mutt’s well-made clothing and rosy countenance, she opens the door wide to admit the visitors. She stokes up the fire and urges them to sit near the hearth. She then unwraps most of the furs to reveal a second small boy sleeping in her arms. She bundles him inside the furs and lays him on the bed gently to sleep. The woman’s red hair is uncommon, and all the more beautiful for its rarity. A young girl, just a few years older than the boys, is sitting on the other end of the bed, repairing a threadbare shirt.
Mutt explains why they have come, and asks the woman how she has fared since her husband has been gone. She replies that she has kept her children from any want, but has had to sacrifice much of her own to make that possible. Mutt takes an instant liking to this tough woman, and offers her a place on her crew until they reach Noxville. Even more to her credit, the woman does not weep or beg, she simply thanks them two women sincerely, and tells them that she can be ready to come with them in a weeks’ time.
The Captain and her Valet leave the house on the hillside and journey back to the palace, arriving just in time for the feast to celebrate their arrival. The food isn’t anything elegant or new, but there is plenty for all and it is filling and delicious. The King, being a Jolly fellow, invites all of his courtiers and servants to dine with him each night. All of his people call him Jolly King George, and know that when his people go hungry, he does as well.
After a night of feasting and dancing in the great hall, everyone tumbles onto piles of fur and drifts off to sleep. Like puppies in a basket, they sleep next to one another, sharing the warmth of their bodies to keep off the chill of the night air. Mutt curls up like her namesake in a pile of soft wolf pelts, and drifts off to sleep to the wistful sound of a mandolin.
The next week is spent refitting the Dark Lady in a drydock, and selling their cargo of wood and cloth and food. The King arranges to purchase all of their flour and rice and beans to keep as dry food stores in case of a famine. Mutt’s crew sets up stalls in the street to sell trinkets and precious things from other kingdoms. Some of them breathe fire or do tricks to entertain passersby. The Captain and the Queen wander the market square, weaving through the crowds as they enjoy the spontaneous market day.
On their last day, the sun is out with almost a spring-like warmth. A warm breeze blows in from the south, and the people are determined to enjoy it. The people of Lafanos are happy and bright, a sharp contrast to the frozen land they inhabit. Their warmth and joy spreads like an infection, drawing more people from villages far and near. As it is their last day in harbor, Mutt has encouraged her people to sell all of their cargo, and spread as much current news as they can to the people.
That night the crews of the Dark Lady enjoys their last night in warm soft beds, and cherish the thick bread and hot soup they are given for dinner. Early the next morning, before the sun has even crested the horizon, they pack everything aboard their ship to head for home. Mutt climbs the gangplank with a heavy heart, knowing that she must return home empty-handed and apologize to Marie.
A cloaked figure with several large men in tow approaches the ship as dawn begins to break. At first members of the crew think that the strange apparition has three heads, but soon it becomes evident that it is a woman carrying her two sons. A young girl trails along behind, carrying a large book. The men stow her things below deck, and return to the palace from whence they’d come, except for one, who stands by waiting to be acknowledged.
Mutt introduces the woman as Kelly, and urges everyone to go into her cabin to get acquainted. Once inside she set her sons down and removes her cloak. A small gasp escapes more than one throat as her red hair is uncovered. Most of those present have never seen anyone with hair that color, and are amazed by her.
Mutt and the older members of the crew are quite used to seeing odd things in their travels, and remain unphased. Mutt explains Kelly’s situation, and the conditions of her stay aboard the ship. After an initial uncertainty, the crew accepts her as one of their own, and are happy to have children to play with for once. Mutt goes back outside to greet the mysterious man. He introduces himself as Neil, and asks passage aboard the ship.
Mutt looks him up and down, silently admiring the handsome brunette before her. His lean frame offset by his muscular arms; and the guitar case over his shoulder having its own attraction. Against her better judgment, she agrees to let him come along. She sees him put up in his own small area apart from her crew, and then marches to the helm to get ready to leave.
The Dark Lady sets sail not long after dawn, the dark sails barely visible against the sky. Once on their way, many members of the crew return belowdecks to relax and keep warm. The little ones are plied with sweets and stories, and the crew settles into a comforting rhythm of work and sleep. The days pass in good company and bad weather, and the time blurs together as the voyage drags on. Nights are spent listening to the strumming of a guitar accompanied by a chorus of salt-roughened voices.
Late one night, as they approach the coast of Barendun once more, Mutt calls for the crew to douse all lights and to be as silent as the grave. “If we are caught, we shall all die. You. Me. Nobody is safe. The little ones will be sold as slaves or given away as presents. We mustn’t be caught. Now quiet, as we sail the forbidden waters of the Lonely King himself.”
They begin the treacherous crossing past the cliffs, hoping that they will see any approaching vessel by the light of the moon. Most of the journey is past, and they think that they may soon be safe. But unbeknownst to them, a black ship is docked in a lee in the rock, waiting. It sights them not far from shore, and sets off after them. The Dark Lady may be sleek and swift, but this unknown ship seems to fly across the water as if the sharks of the underworld were pulling it along.
Tangy spots it, barely making it out against the inky darkness, and calls down a warning. But it is too late. No matter how much they push the sails, gathering every ounce of wind possible, the ship continues to gain on them. Mutt sends Kelly and her children down below, just in case, and tells her crew to prepare to be boarded. Neil refuses to leave the deck, for even if he is only a passenger, he will surely be hanged with the rest. In a fearful silence, they wait; weapons drawn and ready to fight to their last breath.
The black ship pulls alongside, but no cannons are rolled out. Mutt’s whisper is audible to all aboard her ship as she states calmly, “They mean to take us alive.” As the first dark figure clambers over the rail, her face morphs into a deathly grimace. Anger flashing from her eyes as she steps forward, ready to kill. The Captain slices down enemy after enemy, but is slowly losing ground. The crew of the Dark Lady puts of a brief and vicious fight, but are overwhelmed by sheer numbers.
To the very end, Mutt fights like a force of nature, tearing her opponents with reckless abandon whenever they come within reach. Her every move controlled and precise, not a single second wasted. Her sword flashes in the moonlight, taking down as many as dare to cross her blade.
But an unseen foe creeps up behind her, smashing her in the leg from behind. With a sickening snap, Mutt’s leg collapses beneath her, and she falls to the deck, dropping her bloodied sword. Seeing their Captain fall, most of her crew is forced to surrender. Just before Mutt blacks out, she sees Tangy, CG, and Neil on the deck, serious injuries sapping their strength. Then the world goes dark, and Captain Mutt knows no more.
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Post by american09mutt on Oct 26, 2009 1:07:07 GMT -5
Blood, sweat, and metal. The smells coming sharply through the fog in his mind. Voices echo softly around him, unintelligible and muffled. His eyelids feel like lead, but he struggles up out of the murk in his mind, trying to open them. Working against the glaring light and grittiness in his eyes, he finally peels one eye open.
The light coming in from the windows is blocked by curtains, and softened enough to not hurt. He opens his other eye and glances around the chamber. Stone walls and white cloth surround him. Beds line the walls of the chamber, and he recognizes some of the crew of The Dark Lady asleep or sitting up on them. A plain, serious woman appears in his line of sight. When she notices his eyes are open, she comes over to his bedside.
“Ah, you’re finally awake then? You lost enough blood, we weren’t sure that you’d ever come to. Well then, I guess it is my duty to inform you that you are a prisoner of the Lady Eleanor. You are accused of Piracy, Theft, and Murder. We are to keep you here and make sure you are as healthy as possible for your execution.”
Neil stares in horror at the woman as she pulls the blanket off of him, and starts to help him sit up. He mulls over this information, trying to get it to make sense in his still-fogged mind. The woman unties the sling holding his right arm, and a dull pain pulls his attention to the present. She unwraps the bandages on his arm and torso, rubbing a salve on them and re-bandaging with experienced fingers.
Finished, she bundles up the used bandages and prepares to leave him, then turns back. “If you have need of anything, ask for Cecil. I need to go clean up the others now, but I’ll check in on you later. Food should be coming around soon. Take it easy though, you’ve not eaten in 4 days.”
Neil glances around the room, hoping to spot the Captain. His last memory was of her falling, and her face plagued his fevered dreams, like a beacon of hope in the endless fog. The Captain is nowhere to be seen, but Ghost is across the room two beds down, sitting up in bed and nursing a bandaged hand.
Carefully, Neil moves his legs off of the bed, and slowly stands. He makes his way ever so gingerly across the room, and plops onto the end of Ghost’s bed. She looks up at him in concerned surprise, then smiles slightly. It’s only then that he sees the stitches down the side of her cheek that pull up when she tries to move her face. Grimacing in pain, she reaches her uninjured hand up to touch her face.
“How are you feeling Ghost? Have you seen the Captain anywhere? She doesn’t seem to be with the rest of the crew…” he trails off as her grimace turns into a look of fear. She leans in close to whisper in his ear.
“The Captain is being kept away from us to keep us from doing anything stupid. At least… that’s what we’ve been told. I don’t think that’s entirely the truth, though. When I asked after her condition, Cecil just gave me a look of pity and walked away… I think the Captain might not just be badly injured, she might be dead!”
With that, Ghost breaks down into tears and covers her face with her good hand. Neil lifts his left arm to put it over her shoulders. “I’m sure she’ll be fine. I mean, the infamous Pirate Lady can’t just die like that! Keep trying to get in to see her, and in the meantime, we all need to work on getting better as fast as possible.”
Wiping away her tears, Ghost nods in agreement. She gets up from the bed and helps him stand, then the two of them walk down the length of the chamber in search of the First mate. In such a situation, Jilly is now in charge of the crew, and they need some reassurances. Spotting her at the last bed near the door, the walk toward her even faster.
Jilly is pacing back and forth across the aisle, a deep frown creasing her forehead. At the sound of their footsteps, her head whips up and her bloodshot eyes focus on them. It’s obvious that she’s been crying, but they politely refrain from mentioning it. “Ghost, Neil. I’m, I’m not sure what to do.” She pauses and takes a deep shuddering breath.
“The Captain is in another part of the stronghold. I’ve been told that we will be allowed to see her tomorrow morning at the earliest.” Ghost reaches out a hand to place on her shoulder, a comforting reminder of their Captains’ stoic shows of affection. “Ghost, I am just so not ready for this! Tangy and CG are badly injured, and most of the crew are pretty banged up as well. Even if the Captain is alive, she’s got to be pretty badly hurt…”
Seeing her courage flagging, Neil’s heart swells with pity. “Just try not to worry about it. Once you see the Captain tomorrow, then you can try to figure out what we’re going to do. If she’s badly hurt, we could be here for months before she’s well enough to execute. And if she’s dead…” at his words both of the women cringe, an agonized look in their eyes. “Well we won’t need to worry much longer, because we’ll all be dead.”
His energy spent, Neil sags onto the bed, suddenly exhausted. He can hear Ghost and Jilly calling Cecil’s name, and trying to hold him upright. His eyes start drooping as a white wimple bobs toward him, a look of frustration plain on Cecil’s homely face.
“You really shouldn’t have let him do all that walking about! He’s in no condition to be going anywhere!” what sounds like muffled apologies, and the clinking of metal on metal. The air feels thick and heavy as a cannonball. He struggles up from the haze once more, reaching for the light and sound around him.
“Ah, he’s waking up. Fetch a plate of broth, quickly. We need to stoke the fire in him before it goes out!” a loud scrape of wood against stone, and hasty footsteps going off. A door thudding closed, and finally he manages to open his eyes once more. “Morning sleepyhead. ‘Bout time you came back to us. Was a right fool thing you did, getting up and moving about after your injury.”
Cecil runs a strong arm under him and helps him sit up. Footsteps approach once more, and Ghost comes into his line of sight, carrying a plate. Upon seeing and smelling the food, his stomach clenches horribly, telling him that he hasn’t eaten for far too long. Cecil accepts the plate carefully, and scoops up some of the warm broth on a spoon. She offers it, and Neil obediently opens his mouth.
She feeds him like a child, coaxing him to swallow even after he is too tired to. Finally the plate is empty, and he sags back on the pillows to fall asleep once more. But it isn’t the fevered sleep of the ill. Only the dreaming sleep of one who is exhausted beyond compare.
A week passes, filled with the monotony of healing. His body slowly gains strength, but the endlessness of sleep, eat, sleep, bandages, sleep, and walking simply lull him into a severe state of boredom. He finally persuades Cecil to get him a guitar, and to his joy, she returns the next day with his own treasured instrument.
Jilly and Ghost, and the rest of the crew, spend their time telling stories of adventure. Tales of daring and mystery, all surrounding their Captain, of whom they still have heard nothing. They have still not been allowed to see her, and they grow increasingly frustrated. Neil listens to the tales about Mutt, and between that and his dreams, finds himself longing to see her face. To know that she is well.
Late one afternoon, Cecil approaches Jilly as Eru is telling the story of Mutt saving her. Without interrupting, Jilly beckons Ghost to come with her, and the three women leave the room quickly. Several hours pass, and they return, still worried, but looking relieved. They gather the crew together to announce that Mutt, is alive. She has been on the edge of death for weeks, and her fever finally broke that morning.
Everyone breaks down in tears. Even Tangy and CG, still bedbound due to their injuries, and crying their eyes out as they lay there. Jilly and Ghost encourage them to be of good cheer, that their Captain would be well soon. And that the two of them would need to choose someone to go help care for Mutt. They then dismiss everyone, and tell them to relax, and not to worry themselves any longer.
Jilly asks for stationary, and begs to be allowed to write a letter to Queen Mindy. Knowing that the Captain’s dearest friend needs to know of her condition. In the hopes that Mindy will send help, or perhaps even come herself, Jilly stresses just how bad Mutt’s injury is, and how fragile their situation is. Once it is sent, all they can do is sit back, and hope that the Queen arrives before it is too late.
For several days, Neil plays songs for the crew and tells stories about his travels abroad in different lands. Anything to pass the time, hoping that they will soon know their fate. In pairs they are allowed to walk in the enclosed courtyard gardens, surrounded by a score of guards. One day as ghost and Neil are walking together in the fresh air, he stops her and pulls her into the shade of a tree.
We need to figure out a way to get out of here, but first we need to get the Captain back to full health. He explains his growing admiration for the Captain, and begs her to help him. He knows that if he is to have any chance of winning the cold lady’s heart, he must be the one to go help with her personal care.
Ghost looks relieved and admits that she had hoped he would volunteer. “In the weeks before we were caught, I watched her as she looked at you. I think she may have felt something for you Neil, and I hope that Mutt may one day be as happy with you as I am with my Rafael.”
Overjoyed, Neil can’t help but give Ghost a huge hug. When he lets go of her, they both look flushed and happy. When they emerge from the tree’s shadow, the guards assume they were exchanging a lover’s moment, not planning the first step toward their escape.
Flashes of color and sound, snatches of memory parading through her mind. Mindy’s young face as they ride through the woods on a crisp fall day. Her laugh as she shows off her archery and fencing to her best friend. Her parents’ faces. Their last words to her before she ran away. Their gravestones. The death of her Captain.
The last image flashes in her mind over and over, and she bolts upright in bed. Blood rushes to her head and her stomach churns with burning fire. Unable to take the sudden vertigo, she vomits everywhere. Only then does she open her eyes.
The room slowly comes into focus, and she can feel strong hands pressing her back into her bed. A voice as rough and comforting as wool washes over her, soothing her aching head. “Hush child, lay back now. The worst of it’s over. You just need’a rest now.” The ache in her head does indeed seem to lessen, and she does just as instructed, following the soothing voice and her own body’s urging. She falls into a deep, unfevered sleep for the first time in 3 weeks.
Upon waking again, she opens her eyes, taking in her surroundings. Someone is sitting next to her bed, holding her hand. The person’s head is down, but she’s almost certain it is a man. In fact, the outline looks familiar. Narrowing her eyes, she tries to remember, but she can’t make it come. All she can seem to remember is everything up through her 16th year, and the day she became Captain of The Dark Lady.
Looking around the room in interest, she takes in the stone floor, the thick carpeting, the roaring fire. She has no idea where she is, but is keenly aware of a pounding ache in her leg, and she attempts to lift her hand, but can’t seem to make it move. Grunting with effort, she manages to lift it a few inches off of the bed, but soon drops it back down. Like a newborn kitten, her muscles are useless to her. And for the first time in her life, Mutt is truly afraid.
The man lifts his head when she grunts aloud, and looks into her eyes. “Mutt? Captain?! You’re alive! You’re okay!” he shouts in excitement and flings himself onto her to hug her soundly. She lays her head on his shoulder and closes her eyes, not knowing who he is, but glad for the nearness of another human being. Flashes of her illness begin to return to her, punctuated by her loneliness, and anger.
Letting go of her, the man jumps up and runs out the door. She opens her eyes in surprise, and stares at the door, hoping he’d come back. Minutes later, as she begins to give up hope of his return, running footsteps echo out in the corridor. Seconds after that the door to her chamber slams open, and the man returns. Followed by two faces that she would remember anywhere.
“Jilly? Ghosty?” she manages to croak. Tears fill their eyes and they throw themselves at her, hugging her tightly. They lean back, and look at her, holding her hands and brushing her hair from her face. Their looks spoke of concern, and deep fear. Obviously looking at her, they were relieved and repulsed all at once.
“Oh Mutt we thought we’d lost you! When I saw you get hit from behind, I thought you were going to die!” Jilly manages to get out, then collapses against her pillow in wracking sobs. Ghost uses one hand to rub Jilly’s back, and holds Mutt’s hand with her other hand. A new scar is there, pink against her pale skin. A curving snakelike thing trailing from her thumb onto the back of her wrist.
Mutt works up the strength, and manages to run a finger over the scar. The man from before is still standing near the door, and he says softly, “Ladies you need to go now. She still needs to regain her strength.” With the two women gone, the man walks to the hearth and collects a plate and spoon, then sits once more beside her bed.
“Here now, eat. We need you to regain all your strength as quickly as possible. Our lives are in danger, and you will need to be in good health if we are to have any hope.” Not knowing what he meant, nor who he was, Mutt accepts the broth he is spooning into her mouth. Then drifts off to sleep once more, strange images of darkness and flashing swords parading through her troubled dreams.
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Post by american09mutt on Nov 2, 2009 1:01:10 GMT -5
Weeks pass as Mutt’s strength slowly returns. The man she now knows to call Neil, has been her constant companion. Reading to her until she fell asleep, feeding her, playing his guitar for her. The only things he didn’t do were bathe her and help her get up to use the bathroom. And those only because his sense of propriety kept him from doing so. His sweet tenderness and constant care endear him to her quickly, and she finds that she deeply cares for this man.
But despite his obvious devotion to her care, he never once shows any signs of returning her feelings. So, as always, she bottles her emotions inside, and treats him as a good friend. One night as he is reading her to sleep, she is more awake than usual. His soft voice rolls over her calmingly, and she can smell him sitting next to the bed. His warm manly scent making her a little dizzy.
As she is taking this in, he finishes reading the chapter, and closes the book. A small waft of paper and leather wash over her, along with an even stronger smell of Neil. He leans over her bed, carefully pulling the covers up to just beneath her chin. Pretending to be asleep, she leans her face sideways, placing her cheek against his hand. Without hesitating, he brushes a finger along her jaw, sighing heavily.
Pulling his hand away, he moves his chair away from the bed and exits the room. Mutt just lays there in her bed, completely amazed by what had happened. The Captain eventually drifts off to sleep, thinking of a handsome man who can play the guitar and whose voice rivals the beauty of the sea she loves so dearly.
Morning comes and Mutt drifts slowly up from the fog of sleep. Memories of the night before come flooding into her mind, and she can’t help smiling as she opens her eyes. Above her is the familiar handsome face of Neil, who is holding an odd looking boot in his hands. Looking at him with sleepy confusion, Mutt sits up in bed.
“How would you like to go for a walk today?” he says, no longer able to contain his excited smile. “We can put this on your leg to hold the bone still, and you should be able to walk on it. Cecil says you’re finally ready to try it out.” Mutt flips the covers off of her legs and turns her legs off the side of the bed.
With Neil’s help, she manages to get the walking cast on, and he helps her stand. Leaning her weight against him, his arm around her, she is suddenly shy and uncertain. His scent overwhelms her, and it takes all of her concentration to stay upright. He helps her sit once more, and says he’ll be sending Ghost in to help her get dressed, because they are going for a walk in the gardens.
Neil practically bounds out of the room and Ghost comes in carrying a pair of soft leather breeches and a smooth white linen shirt. A tight black bodice and a pair of black boots complete the ensemble, an outfit fitting enough for a Pirate Lady. A quick sponge bath and a brush is raked through Mutt’s unruly hair. Getting dressed without too much assistance, Mutt takes Ghost’s offered arm and pulls herself to her feet. Her leg aches dully, but she can walk on it without too much difficulty.
Neil returns freshly washed and dressed, wearing a leaf green tunic and black breeches. His muscles smoothly outlined and his eyes sparkling with delight at seeing her on her feet. He offers an arm, and she tucks her arm through his for support. They walk out into a hall, then down some steps. The first time she has left her prison room in two months.
They stroll carefully through the gardens, with people standing all over the place among the trees and shrubs. Apparently half the people in residence have turned out to see the great Pirate Lady herself. They are not at all disappointed. She walks regally and looks stunning for a woman who has been in a sick bed for months.
The only new thing being her loss of weight, and how tightly her skin stretches across her bones and muscles. A shadow of her former self, but still intimidating and fascinating. Her curly hair pulled back and brushed out into loose curls. Her clothes fresh and her stride confidant. Watching from an upper window, the Lady Eleanor watches the scene with a reptilian glee. The captain is well, and her plans can now move forward.
She walks over to her writing desk to begins a letter announcing the Pirate’s execution, and addresses it to the King. Surely this will gain his respect and interest, and possibly his hand. Eleanor is an ambitious woman, one who would not allow her exile from court to block her rise to power. Her place as the head of The Cormorant’s design crew was one of honor. Her placement as the ship’s owner an even more respected station.
Now, finally, she would have the political clout to regain her place at court, and possibly win the King’s hand in marriage. Grinning with anticipation, she orders a massive gallows to be built beyond the walls, and a large pole to be set upright some distance beyond that. The pirates would soon pay for their crimes, and her people would be safe. Not that she really cared about their welfare.
The missive from Eleanor reaches the King at breakfast one morning, and he tells the messenger to inform Eleanor that he will come. After the boy leaves his presence, The Lonely King goes out for a ride on his stallion into the woods to escape a meeting with his advisors. Despite their constant encouragement to marry, he despises the very idea.
He knows he must marry for the good of his kingdom, but the heartbreak he once endured has hardened him against love. Memories of the woman drift through his waking mind, teasing him with pangs of love and pain. Her hair flowing out behind her as they dance in the great hall, her creamy skin as he brushes his hand along her arm. Her bright blue beguiling eyes and her pert little mouth whispering lying promises.
As he rides back along the trail to the palace, he makes up his mind. The Lonely King will be lonely no more. But he shall marry out of duty, not out of love. And he shall not marry that detestable Eleanor, despite her rank and titles. No, he must marry a woman without ambition or youth. One without beauty. One who will not tempt him to lose his head as he once had with his lovely Isabella.
The sunlight streaming down through the branches of the cherry trees lights softly on Mutt’s hair, sparkling in jewel tones and warm browns. Her hair shimmering and lovely, the color rising in her cheeks, and a smile spreading across her weary face. Neil gazes lovingly down at her, and she back at him. Without any words spoken, they acknowledge their mutual feelings.
His arm slides behind her back and around her waist, guiding her into a thicket of trees. There, he presses her against the bark of a tall oak, holding her carefully upright. He leans his head against hers, looking deep into her eyes, then puts his forehead on her shoulder. Her breathe on his neck is warm, and he breathes in the musky sweetness of her hair.
Her arms twine up and around his neck, fingers brushing softly through the hair on the nape of his neck. His eyes closed, he drinks in the warm, almost animal aroma coming from her. Her skin giving off a warm salty smell, of danger and strength and heat. But with an undertone as gentle and honest as the falling rain.
Lifting his head, Neil looks once more into her clear brown eyes, for the first time noticing the golden flecks therein. Smiling shyly, she pulls his face toward hers, and kisses him gently. Her embrace and her touch are like a strong wine, going straight to his head. Her kiss like the rush of the tide, pulling him away from shore. But he lets himself be pulled along, enjoying the danger of it all.
Neil places a hand on the side of her face, and smiles at Mutt as she runs her fingers through his hair. She seems content with him and he can’t help but marvel that this great and powerful force of nature would set her eyes on him this way. She is as docile as a tamed panther when she’s here with him, and he soaks in the heat from her as she is pressed against him.
They walk back to the stronghold keep, arm in arm, basking in each other’s presence. The crowd watches in awe as the Lady passes, some removing their hats in respect. One child brings a single white flower to the Captain as she passes, and Mutt places it in her hair. But not everyone is as charmed with the Captain as the people seem to be.
In fact, one of her crew is discontented by her sudden connection with Neil. But being ever loyal to her Captain, she suffers the pain in silence, lamenting what could have been in the sad hours in the dark of night. Her heart breaks with every look and every touch between the lovers, but she dare not speak, for the Captain has never been so happy. And they may all die soon anyway.
As often as they can, the two lovers escape to the quiet of the garden, stealing kisses and holding onto one another. They hide among the trees and the flowers, gazing into each other’s eyes for hours on end. Neil plays songs for her, and Mutt sings songs to him that she learned as a child. They barely ever speak of the past, using all of their time to revel in the presence of the other.
Laying on the moss beneath a stand of willow trees, they huddle under a blanket and hold onto one another for dear life. They know that this cannot last, and they both will surely die very soon, and yet none of that matters. These stolen moments together are like a fairytale come alive. Like stories of old about legendary lovers, they cannot bear to be apart.
It is as they are alone together on one of these excursions that they hear the gallop of hooves from the gate on the eastern wall. They slide through the trees like smoke, making their way to hide amidst the branches of a rhododendron. Watching silently, they see a messenger climb of the beleaguered animal and approach the Lady Eleanor where she stands atop the granite steps.
Reading the letter she is handed, Eleanor smiles, and thanks the boy. Then she looks directly at their hiding place, and announces to those gathered in the courtyard and hall, “The Pirates shall be executed in 4 days. The King himself will be in attendance. And afterward, I am invited to court to attend to his majesty’s business.” Then turns, and disappears through the giant doorway into the keep.
On their final day before the King’s arrival, the crew gathers in the hospital wing to discuss any possibility of having a future. In dismay, they realize there is no way out of this. They will all surely die on the morrow, never to see their loved ones again. With a sinking feeling in their hearts, Mutt and Neil take leave of their friends, wanting to spend every last moment they can together.
Neil pulls out his guitar, and plays for his love the song that he had been writing since the day he woke up in the keep.
“The Dark Lady of my dreams, I can hardly believe. I see her with mine waking eyes and I long to feel her breathe. To touch her skin and hear her sigh, to drink her in like summer wine, and to kiss her shining hair so burning bright. My heart cries out to feel her touch, to gaze into those sunny eyes. But in my mind I keep wondering why, why this dark lady would ever look at me. For in a flash my lady love, can turn into the raging sea. Her eyes burn dark and dangerous, and all sweetness it doth flee. Her lover’s touch, now steely ice, and her kisses now are gone. For my love’s as fierce and terrible, as the great and terrible dawn.”
“But I lose myself. In her gaze divine. And I can’t help but love, this soul as old as time. For in her I. I can see a trace. Of a maid so pure, that any heart would race. Her touch like fire, it draws me in, and like an eagle I can soar again. The second she leaves I know I’ll fall, but somehow, I can’t turn away. Better for me to rise and fall, than to never fly with the wind against my face.”
With tears streaming down her face, Mutt kisses Neil tenderly on the lips. No words can express the surge of joy and peace that the music has brought to her troubled mind. So she settles for holding him close against her and letting him breathe in her presence, as he managed to put so lovingly into words.
She in turn could do nothing more than take in every feature of his face and save it to memory. Never wanting to lose the perfectness of this moment together, and to never forget him. Her heart full of joy, she lays on the grass with Neil in her arms, and just let the world pass them by.
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Post by american09mutt on Nov 5, 2009 1:23:37 GMT -5
The morning of their execution dawned bright and cold. A chill wind sweeping in from the North to deposit a rime of frost on the ground. The prisoners were dressed and fed and made to wait in the courtyard for the hour of noon to approach. As custom dictates, they were led out, one by one, wearing black hoods. Each was seated bareback on a horse, with their hands tied tightly behind their backs.
Neil and Kelly were led out first, as they were not part of the crew. Neil was seated atop a bay stallion, and his hood removed. Glancing out at the crowd, his eyes met those of a well dressed man sitting casually on a polished mahogany throne. Glaring with all of his might, Neil spat on the ground before the King of Barendun.
Unruffled, The Lonely King waved for the next hood to be removed. Kelly’s fiery hair could not mask the bruises covering her face, nor the look of defiance in her eyes. She glanced about frantically in search of her children, whom she found near the lady Eleanor, being restrained by servants as they tried to get to their mother.
Clearly disturbed by the image, his majesty gestured for the next pair of prisoners to be brought forth. Once seated on their horses, One-eyed Jen and Erulisse had their hoods removed as well. The King’s face grew even darker as he took in Eru’s youthful face. Witnessing the execution of a barely grown young woman was obviously not sitting well.
Meggie and Tangy were the next ones brought forth, and then CG and Thunder. The King’s level of discomfort steadily growing as the crewmembers proved to be all females, and none of them more than he himself was. Finally, Ghost and Jilly were marched before the assembly, heads held high. Silent tears coursed their way down the faces of many of the crew, but as a drum began to beat in the distance, they grew completely still.
The gates were drawn closed for several minutes as a group of men assembled behind them, and when they were thrown open once more, a lone figure stood amidst the flailing hooves of four great horses. Hands tied behind their back were connected to ropes held by each of the four guardsmen. Eyeholes cut into the hood allowed the captive to see where they were to walk.
Breathing in the cold air, the Captain strides forth from the gates. Her head poised like a proud mare, her steps sure and steady. Despite the ropes fastening her, she walks as though detached. High on their horses, the ropes stretched around their necks, her people wait. As she approaches, one by one they bow deeply to her, near to choking off their own supplies of air to show their last respects.
With the sight of her people, showing their loyalty as ever, Mutt’s heart breaks with pride. She walks across the frozen ground in crunching footfalls, never once taking her eyes from her loyal friends. Without fighting, but without an ounce of surrender, she walks into the arms of her inevitable death.
She is as regal as a queen, and as unassuming as a newborn babe. She expects no clemency, and refuses to beg for her life. Instead, she bows to the King sitting upon his throne, then makes her way to the post to which she is then tied. Around her, the guards stack piles of wood, and then they sit back and wait for the King’s command.
Her breath collecting as moisture inside her hood, Mutt finds it increasingly difficult to breathe. She glances over at Neil, hoping to meet her loves’ eyes one last time. To hold his gaze until the bitter end. Meeting her eyes, Neil smiles, his eyes speaking only of his deep and abiding love for her. A single tear courses it’s way down his cheek, his sweet eyes holding hers until he can no longer bear to look at her.
The King gives the necessary orders. As a guard steps forward to light the wood to which the Captain is bound, thus burning her alive, her hood is removed. There is a collective, amazed gasp through the crowd. Those assembled have not laid eyes on the Lady Pirate, and are astonished by her appearance. For she is neither old and wizened, nor greasy and driveling.
The great lady pirate is magnificent. Her hair falling in a curling wave down her back, her rich brown eyes staring stoically at The Lonely King himself. Her back as straight as an iron rod, and her mouth set in a tight frown of displeasure. As the flames catch on the wood the red light reflects off of her hair, casting dancing shadows across the clearing at the base of the strongholds’ wall.
The flames lick toward her skin, and as the air around her becomes unbearably hot, Mutt begins to cry. No sound escapes her lips, but large tears roll down her cheeks, and her expression becomes one of pure, unbridled grief. As they watch, her crew’s eyes also fill with tears. They are forced to watch the end of the great lady they so willingly and faithfully served.
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Post by american09mutt on Nov 5, 2009 19:32:14 GMT -5
Pure cool water splashes across Mutt’s face. Opening her heat-dried eyes, she sees a handsomely dressed man standing before her, empty bucket in hand. She looks down at herself, and is amazed to find herself nearly unscathed by the flames. Mutt looks up in amazement at the man who saved her life, and realizes at once who he is.
The Lonely King stands immobile and pale as a ghost before her. His eyes wild and his mouth open in shock. His dark hair is mussed slightly, and his face a mask of anger and shame. But his boots are covered in ash, and his clothing is marred by the blackening dust thrown into the air by extinguishing the fire.
A dull roar still sounds in the Captain’s ears, and she realizes that the fire is only out in her immediate vicinity. It rages on outside of her circular haven, and she knows she must take this chance to free herself, or resign herself to death’s fiery grip once more.
Before she can act, the King bellows out orders to put out the remaining flames. In shock now, Mutt watches the flurry of activity around herself as the guards rush forward to obey the orders of the King. Covered in ash and with her tongue dryly stuck to the roof of her mouth, Mutt can’t utter a word.
She is released from her bonds and thrown down at The Lonely King’s feet. Coughing to clear her lungs of the smoke, she gazes defiantly up into his eyes, but is stopped short by his expression. He is gazing down at her in wonder, coupled with a burning look that she cannot recognize. But then, no matter what emotion is hiding within his depths, he has just saved her life.
The King proceeds to order that every one of her crew is to be released into his custody, and that they would be returning with him to his palace atop the cliffs. Numbly, all of them obey, and are led off to be placed on saddled horses for the journey. Their hands are retied in front of them, and their horses strung together to keep them from escaping.
Lady Eleanor stands alone in front of the King’s own stallion, and is turning a mottled purple. “How DARE you! They are outlaws! Not even the King can spare the lives of murderers and thieves!” but the King pays her no heed, and orders his men to place her under arrest for violation of international treaty.
“I received a visitor the very same day your missive arrived at my court. It was a man by the name of Sir Alex, and he was on official business for the Queen of Noxville. With him was a close friend of the Queen herself, who begged me to save her friend, Captain Mutt. I did not recognize the woman until I saw her unmasked before me. When I freed myself of my shock, it was almost too late to save her. If she had died, I would have had your head. You nearly started a war with Noxville, you daft woman!” with that, the King mounted his horse and turned it toward the west, toward his home.
Mute, and exhausted from their ordeal, the crew of The Dark Lady ride off into the late afternoon sun, following the most ruthless man in the known world. To their doom, or to life, they know not. But as they glace at one another, one thing is clear. They are all determined to fight for their lives, if needs must. And none of them wish to ever experience such a thing again.
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Post by american09mutt on Nov 16, 2009 2:46:38 GMT -5
The closer to the coast they get, the colder the air seems. About a day out, they can smell the salty breeze. Having been away from the ocean for months, the crew of the dark lady all sit straighter in their saddles, inhaling deeply and sighing. The guards in the King’s entourage are intrigued by the crew, and notice how much they are cheered by the sea breeze.
The crew, surrounded by so many handsome young men in uniform, can’t help but be happy and carefree. Except for the ones that had already fallen in love elsewhere, all of them flirted shamelessly with the men. And based on their reactions, none of these men were flirted with very often. A truly odd occurrence, as the royal guard in Noxville was always sought after by sweet young women looking to marry.
Looking more closely at the group of armed guards around them, the Captain takes note that only one in 30 is a female. Even more tellingly, she is obviously a very close relation to the king himself, with the same dark hair and eyes. The way she rides beside the King, and talks to him so openly, it’s obvious that she must be a younger sister, or perhaps a niece.
Riding in front of Jilly, and behind Neil, Mutt is oddly unfocused and unable to concentrate. Her eyes keep straying to Neil’s graceful shoulders and slim hips, and then back over to the pair of nobles at the head of the train. The King, riding in front, is riding high on his horse. His shoulders wide and strong, and his expression cheerful and open while he speaks to his young relative.
The contrast between the small singing traveler and the tough looking King are unmistakable. And yet Mutt’s eyes are drawn to each in turn. But inevitably, back to Neil, her handsome love. The song he wrote for her trailing through her mind, causing her to smile. He looks back at her, and smiles warmly, his eyes promising a touching reunion once they reach their destination.
Her returning smile is equally full of promise, and he faces forward, blushing deeply. Noticing another pair of eyes on her, the Captain looks up to see The King staring intently at her, fury in his icy eyes. But only for a moment, for the second she looks up, he looks away. He faces stubbornly forward, back stiff and hands clenched on the reins.
Her attention span coming to a close, Mutt glances back at Neil once more, smiling and content. As if feeling her gaze on him, Neil tightens all the muscles in his back, making the thin cloth stretch tight. Her breath catches in her throat, and he grins back at her, his smile making her heart stutter. Forcing herself to breathe, she looks pointedly at the ground in front of her mare.
On the final day, they see a dark shape looming up in the distance. The castle on the cliff growing slowly in the distance, the land falling away sharply behind it into an unending blue expanse. The group speeds up its’ pace, all the Barenduners eager to return home to the fortress.
They ride up the slowly sloping rocky hill, the rough dirt causeway the only road that leads to the castle. The large black gates open as soon as the King’s party is spotted, and the second he rides into the courtyard, his banner is run up the pole. A black horse on a blue field, flaming hoofprints behind. With the banner flying high above the castle, they ride in through the massive gates.
The clopping of hooves on the stone courtyard is almost deafening, but doesn’t last for too long. Everyone dismounts, the guards assisting the prisoners, and they head inside. Within the walls, the prisoners are released from their bonds, and allowed to stretch. Then they are left alone in the main hall to be fed and chat after their long ride.
They are then given a large hall with cots to sleep in, and treated like refugees instead of prisoners. Captain Mutt is called aside to meet with Sir Alex, and he wraps her in a warm hug, happy to see her safe. The second figure waiting for her is a woman slightly older than the Captain, but beautiful and very ladylike.
Her shoulder-length hair flowing loosely down her back like a maiden, much the same color as the Captain’s, but with only a little bit of wave to it. Her blue and amber eyes sparkling with barely contained joy, she steps forward to greet Mutt warmly. Her head is held high, but she is still about 5 inches shorter than Captain Mutt. Her name is Maureen, the Duchess of Harmony, close friend and cousin to the queen herself.
Maureen’s dark violet gown sweeping the floor, she holds her pale arms open to embrace the Captain warmly, as she would a sister. Being related to Mindy, her mother’s elder sister’s youngest daughter to be exact, had some perks. Maureen was brought to court as a child to become Mindy’s companion and then lady-in-waiting. She was even by Mindy’s side when her parents died, when Mindy was only 12 years old.
But since Maureen was married off when she was 15, and Mindy was just barely 18, they had to find a new friend to accompany the queen everywhere. Who could possibly replace the only true friend the young queen had ever had? Mindy spent many nights crying into Maureen’s shoulder, begging her not to go away, but knowing that she must.
This is when Maureen personally went in search of a new lady-in-waiting. And instead, she had found little Mutt, who she had picked the second she saw her. With Mutt in place at the palace, Maureen then went to live with her new husband, a duke of good income and a gentle character. Mutt gained her nickname from the court, who called her that because she followed the adult queen around like a stray dog. Being only 10 years old, she would often fall asleep at the queen’s feet, or on her lap, as the queen stroked her hair.
Though he doted on her, Maureen and her husband were never able to have a child. When her husband died after only four years, Maureen returned to court, alone and wealthy at the age of 19. Only to find Mutt gone and Mindy all alone at the palace. Seeing the situation at hand, she returned to her place at Mindy’s friend and advisor.
With a jerk, Mutt’s mind comes back from the past. These flashes kept coming, things from her childhood that she had long forgotten. Sometimes objects would trigger them, but usually it was people or smells or sounds that did it. Her memories returning, piece by piece, with infuriating slowness.
Maureen leads Mutt out to a rocky garden filled with stunted shrubs and sad-looking flowers, knowing that the sea air will help clear the Captain’s head. They discuss everything that has happened since Mutt left court, and Alex stands nearby, listening carefully so as to report back to the queen.
That’s when the Captain finally gathered that Maureen would be staying, and the reason was an interesting one. Two letters were delivered into her hands by Alex, and the two nobles sit anxiously by as she read first one, then the other. The first to be opened was the one from Paul, per Maureen’s urging. Opening the letter, Mutt finds his handwriting to be very shaky and his words overly dramatic.
“Dearest Captain Mutt, I hope this finds you in moderately good health, and no longer a prisoner. I write to you in secret, the queen unaware of this communication. She will be writing you her own letter no doubt, but I find it imperative that I inform you of my lovely wife’s delicate condition. Please, I beg of you, she is not able to ride to your rescue, but she insists daily that you would do the same for her. I cannot allow her to endanger the child so, and I would beg of you to write to her at once and assuage her fears. If you love your queen, as I know you must, then please send a response as soon as you get this. The troubled King, Paul.”
The second note is much longer in length, and the handwriting is calm and steady, though hurried. “My dear Mutty, please tell me that you are no longer in the dire straights I have heard about! I am worried sick on your behalf, and would rush to your aid on a moment’s notice! Except that my darling husband has prevented me from doing so, given my condition. I am so proud to tell you, dear little one, that I am with child! Pregnant! Baking a little bun, if you will!
Mutt’s eyes glaze over for a second, her face a mask of disbelief. Then, eager to know the circumstances, she reads on. “I know this come as a shock to you, since it is only a few months after we were wed, and to be honest, you are learning of this a couple of months after I knew myself. I would have written you sooner, but I couldn’t track you down before I got Jilly’s letter. Imagine my fright when I learned of your plight, and my fury when I was not allowed to come directly to your side. But the shock of it nearly made me lose the child, and I was in bed for days after receiving the letter. I’m afraid Paul was completely out of his mind with worry for me. He begged me to stay put and rest. I wouldn’t be surprised in the least if he wrote to you himself, begging for your help in restraining me.
“In short, I would be much relieved if you wrote me back posthaste. I await news of your health and safety. Also! I have sent along our dear friend Alex to give me a full report of his findings, and Maureen and Marie to assure political stability at this rocky time.” Stopping for a moment, Mutt rereads that last line “Maureen and Marie” then looks up at Maureen in shock.
“Marie is here?!” she squeaks angrily. Maureen simply gestures to the paper, clearly wanting her to finish reading before they speak of the Queen’s unruly ward. But the Captain can’t help wondering what on earth Mindy was thinking, sending a rebellious teenager into such a heated atmosphere.
Returning her attention to the paper, she reads on. “Marie has discovered my condition, as we knew she would eventually. Her outbursts have become more and more frequent, and we felt it necessary to send her away for her own good. You and Maureen are the only ones I trust with her, and after Marie admitted to me the mission you are on for her, I thought it the best place to send her. Now you may not only search for a husband for the girl, but show off what you are offering at the same time. Though I’m not sure if it would be a help or a hindrance. With all the love I can give, Mindy.”
Her hands dropping into her lap, Mutt stares at Maureen in amazement, but quickly comes to a decision. The Lonely King’s court being filled with bachelors should make her job quite a lot easier, though she would never have dared come here on her own. Surely the King himself would assist her, once he knows the story behind it. With a deep sigh, she stands, and gestures for the others to follow her inside. Time to meet with the young lark and get to work.
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Post by american09mutt on Dec 28, 2009 19:43:36 GMT -5
Tall columns mark the entrance to the guest wing, setting it apart from the close dark corridors of the rest of the castle. The hall’s edges are wreathed in shadow, and the young girl in a brown riding dress almost blends into the walls. Mutt is the first to spot her standing off to the side of the entrance, and marches right up to her. Marie turns to face the Captain, her mouth half open, obviously expecting Maureen. Her eyes flare wide at the sight of the Captain bearing down on her.
“Marie. You will listen to what I have to say, and agree to all my demands, or you will be confined to your room for the duration of your stay here. Am I understood?” Marie’s mouth snaps shut and she mutely nods in reluctant agreement. “I will do my best to find a husband for you, and I will give you as much freedom as I can. In return, whenever I tell you to do something, you will do it. Without question, immediately, and perfectly. Is that understood as well?”
For a moment it appears as if the young girl will argue, but her shoulders sag and she seems deflated as she nods a second time. “Good. Now come with me, and I will see to it that you are fitted with costuming befitting your station.” With that, Mutt turns on her heel and stalks out of the room.
Still in her worn and dirty traveling clothes, the Captain gathers Ghost, Jilly, and Kelly to her. Speaking briskly with a guard, she manages to arrange an audience with the king of Barendun, set for late the next afternoon. The king’s reply also contains an invitation to dine with him the following evening. In the meantime she arranges for herself to be hastily fitted for a gown, and then goes over her plans with the three she had gathered.
With very little preamble, the Captain announces that changes need to be made in her crew. The other women look a bit surprised, but listen intently, fully trusting their captain to lead them straight. “If you will accept it, Kelly, I would give you a position aboard my crew.” Following Kelly’s quick nod, she continues.
“Then I would ask you to be my Quartermistress. You will be second in line after me, should I ever again be unable to perform my duty. Jilly will remain second in command, but you will step up to fill my place if anything goes wrong. I trust you Jilly, but I know that the pressure of command was just too much for you. I hope this is alright with all of you?”
They all agree happily. Ghost pleased that Mutt recognized how hard it was on Jilly, being only 15 years old. Jilly relieved that she would always be second in command, and never have to be the captain. And Kelly completely speechless at the prospect of such responsibility being placed upon her shoulders.
As she finishes with those arrangements, a plump older woman and three young women in plain dresses enter the room. The plump one introduces herself as Brigid, and her assistants as apprentice seamstresses. They usher the Captain off to her chambers to be measured. Although she tries her best not to squirm, Mutt can’t hold completely still as they mark out the size and shape of every part of her.
With measurements in hand, two of the young apprentices are sent to fetch a few gowns for Mutt to choose from, and the seamstress examines Mutt from head to toe as she stands there in her underthings. “No meat on those bones, not a spare ounce.” she announces. Then more softly, “But you’re no soft court lady either. Every inch of you has been forged and quenched in the fires of a world run by men. You’ll survive here in Barendun, that’s for sure. The king doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself into.”
Before Mutt can make heads or tails of Brigid’s words, the apprentices arrive with four flowing gowns, each more lovely than the last. One is plum velvet, the second a scarlet silken affair, and the third a royal blue gown of damask. Mutt dismisses the first as being too formal, the second for being too coy, and the third for being far too rich for her taste. With the other three gowns removed from her sight, her gaze falls upon the last offering.
A dark green satin dress with silver trim waits in the hands of the apprentice. The simple cut and flowing lines are elegant, but soft. The four women lace her into the gown, then wait with bate breath as she admires herself in the mirror. With its short sleeves and dipping neckline, it compliments Mutt’s body well. The skirts swirl around her legs, making it easy to walk in. It needs to be taken in slightly all over, due to her sparseness of flesh, but it is the most appropriate of the choices available.
With their work set out for them, the seamstresses leave, taking with them the Captain’s hope for the future. Around her, the bedchamber echoes with emptiness, and she shuffles her feet slightly. The skin on the back of her legs cracks slightly, and the Captain decides that it’s high time she had a proper bath to soak off the travel dirt gritting her skin.
The hour of her meeting with the king is fast approaching, and Mutt is plucking nervously at the lace edging of her undergown. Maureen slaps her hand away, and Ghost chuckles softly while brushing the Captain’s hair. “Stop fidgeting Mutt! Sometimes I swear you’re no older than the day I brought you to the palace. Try to focus on what you will say to the king, and take deep breaths.”
Mutt forces herself to relax as Ghost pulls the sides of her hair together and braids it, leaving the rest to curl gently down her back. The brown hair contrasting beautifully with the green of her gown. As a final touch, a small circlet is placed on her brow, stating her position of importance in the court of the Noxville court. Since she will be acting as ambassador to the court, she also wears a small wristlet with her coat of arms on it, the shimmering silver fox standing out starkly against the black leather.
A young man in black breeches, a black cap, and a loose grey shirt arrives outside her chambers, sent by the king to escort her to the throne room. Ghost opens the door to the sitting room, and invites the man to sit while Mutt pulls on a pair of black leather boots. When Mutt walks out of the bedroom, he stands and doffs his cap. “My lady, I was sent to guide you to the king’s audience chamber. My name is Craig, and I am at your service for the evening.”
Replacing his cap on his head, Craig now takes a moment to look over this strange woman from the east. His dark, intense eyes taking in every inch of her. Making a point to remember her glossy curls, strong cheekbones, and the way her dress smoothly holds to her long limbs. In return, she is scouring his mussed brown hair and chiseled features with her own gaze. She notes that his strong shoulders and lean frame give him the grace of a dancer, but that he has the calluses of a swordsman on his hands.
He obviously sees the same on her own hands, and his eyebrows raise a fraction. Before he can comment, she introduces herself. “My name is Captain Mutt. I’m not a lady. I’m the head of Noxville’s navy. You can either call me Mutt, or you may not speak to me.” The last sentence she states with a twinkle in her eye, playfully taunting him.
He responds by asking if the good captain would kindly take his arm, so he can guide her to their destination. Taking the proffered am, she strikes up a lively conversation, taking out her nervousness by getting as much information as she can from him about the king and his court here in Barendun.
When they reach the great double doors of the king’s throne room, Mutt steels herself by taking a deep breath. Craig grins encouragingly at her as the doors begin to open. They both face the widening gap, preparing to enter the chamber beyond. First the throne and dais appear, empty save for a small pillow to cushion the royal seat. The large room is filled with people. Courtiers of every age and demeanor. Well dressed young men in bright colors, or older men clothed in dark colors and weighed down with jewelry.
One thing is quickly apparent. Very few women are present at all, and those that are seem to be present only to accompany a male relative or spouse. No young women are present at all unless they are with a male. With one exception. The king’s close female relative from before, whom Mutt learned about from Craig. Her name is Keva, and she is the daughter of his only cousin. She stands nearest to the dais, casually speaking to several older men that appear to be advisors.
Craig leads Mutt to a space off to one side, obviously reserved for people visiting court. Nobles of lesser bearing stand here, waiting to petition the king. With one last smile, Craig leaves Mutt on her own. From the moment they enter the hall, all eyes are upon them. Everyone present has heard the story of the great pirate lady, loyal friend of the foreign queen and now emissary to the king of Barendun.
She stands out starkly from the border barons around her, the fabric of her clothing far more rich, but the cut of her garment far simpler. Remaining unadorned while they sport strands of spun gold, heavy rings, and thick bracelets. Her head held high, her expression calm and her spine smoothly straightened. The Captain clasps her hands firmly in front of her, determined not to show any signs of weakness.
Captain Mutt is patiently examining the people in the audience chamber when the great doors are pushed open once more, and a herald enters the room. Clearing his throat, he announces in a clear voice, projecting above the assembled noise. “His majesty, King Ryan of Barendun.” In the shadow of the doorway appears the figure of the king. Now dressed in fine brocade and bearing a crown upon his brow, he makes his way across the hall at a dignified walk.
As he passes, men bow and women curtsy. Mutt inclines her head, and curtsies just deeply enough to be polite, without showing any extra level of respect or deference. Staring quite openly at her is the king’s cousin. Keva is appraising her coldly, quite displeased by Mutt’s lack of deference to the king. Another pair of eyes directed toward her manages to wrest her attention quite suddenly. Across the room, she can see Craig suppress a sudden fit of laughter by biting his lip with flashing white teeth.
The sound of footsteps ceases, and Mutt’s gaze is drawn to the throne where King Ryan now sits. His back straight and his forearms on the arms of his throne in a relaxed but commanding manner. His eyes sweep the room, catching hers for a moment before he moves on. The doors to the chamber close, and the herald calls the assembled people to silence, and the business of the realm begins.
He deals briskly with the border lords, listening to their reports and requests carefully before speaking. For over an hour he speaks, listens, and is listened to. Finally all local business is dealt with, and he moves on to the people of the court. They bring grievances to him, and he sorts out their claims with fairness and alacrity. At long last, all of his people are satisfied, and he speaks softly in an aside to the herald.
Confused, but obedient, the herald calls out, “Presenting Captain Mutt. Sworn vassal of Queen Mindy of Noxville, Captain of the Dark Lady, Admiral of the queen’s navy, pirate queen, brigand, and watchdog of the east.” Concealing her mirth at the litany of made-up titles, Mutt approaches the throne, walking as if on air. Craig moves forward to take her hand, and leads her up to stand before the king’s throne.
“My liege, Queen Mindy, sends her regards to her cousin of the western shore.” Mutt states proudly, inclining her head slightly to acknowledge Ryan sitting upon the throne. “She would be pleased to know how you have worked to wrest our two realms from the brink of war. It appears we are in your debt, your majesty.” A small smile for the king, then more words flow. “But I am afraid we must request your hospitality for a time. It seems my vessel is still unaccounted for, and some of my people are not in the condition I would have them in before I commence travel.” Ryan cringes slightly, the words a small blow to his honor.
“Of course we would house our cousin’s people, for as long as need be. And your ship will be returned to you as soon as may be. Please make yourselves comfortable in my home, and we shall speak further of trade and relations between our two nations.” With these words spoken, the king stands and descends from the dais. “Please take your leave friends. It has been a long hard day, and we are all in need of some refreshment.”
He then offers his arm to Keva, and departs from the hall. Craig returns to the Captain’s side, and guides her out into the corridor. “That was amazing! You have quite a way with words, Captain. The King looked positively entranced, and Keva looked downright steamed! Oh you must ask me to sit with you if you are seated at high table, it will be the best of fun! If not, I’ll see what I can do to be placed near you and your people.”
With her hand on his arm, he guides her to the grand feast hall, filled with row upon row of tables, all oriented toward a raised dais. The king is already seated with his cousin and other advisors and dignitaries. There is no place for her at the head table, but she can see Ghost seated at a ring of tables just beyond the dais. Marie, Maureen, and Alex are all present as well as the entire crew, much to Mutt’s surprise. Ghost and Kelly wave her toward a pair of seats left open for them between Neil and Meggie, and Craig happily pulls her over to greet them.
The crew greets him warmly, and he and the Captain seat themselves in the chairs saved for them. Several of the crewmembers are left blushing and breathless at the sight of Craig’s smile, and they laugh just a little too loud at each of his jokes. Young Meggie, the cook, is instantly smitten with the man, but does a remarkable job of concealing her interest. But she cannot hide it from the Captain, who catches it immediately. Mutt determines that more than one match might be made while they are in port at Barendun.
Dinner is pleasant, filled with good company and good humor. Their brush with death making everyone more outgoing than normal. Neil’s hand finds Mutt’s quite often, his thumb stroking the back of her wrist. Their whispered conversations a balm to her frayed nerves. The Captain’s gaze often returns to the high table, taking in the king and royal cousin’s appearances and exchanges. And more than once, Mutt catches Ryan’s eyes flitting away from her just as she looks up.
But the night is short-lived, and everyone is soon yawning and smiling sleepily at one another. Mutt excuses herself and her crew from the dinner company, and they retire to their quarters for the night. At the entrance to their hall, Craig makes his goodbyes, promising to see them as soon as he can. He even hints at the possibility of a ball to be held within a months’ time, celebrating the birthday of the king’s cousin. He then takes his leave, taking half a dozen hearts with him as he disappears from sight.
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Post by american09mutt on Dec 31, 2009 2:44:43 GMT -5
Solemn shadows accompany Mutt as she makes her way down an empty corridor. The sound of the wind outside howls through the cracks in the shutters. A small sound behind her catches her attention, and she turns toward it. Close behind her is a dark figure, and her muscles begin to tense, but a familiar scent brings a smile to her face and relaxes her. Then a familiar voice echoes softly in the passageway.
“I wonder where Captain Mutt could be going at such an hour? Surely it’s off to wreak havoc among the hearts of the men of Barendun, for she looks lovely enough to break every heart between here and the plains of fire.” A strong arm slides around her waist as Neil’s words pull a laugh from her lips. “Or maybe she’s just hoping to tempt a lover with that smile of hers.”
He plants a kiss on her cheek and they walk along the empty hallway, grinning broadly at each other. At an alcove in the wall, Neil overtly checks for anyone in the empty hallway, then pulls her in to hide amongst the shadows. Her arms around his neck and her face buried in his shoulder, Mutt inhales the familiar earthy smell of him. The grass he likes to sit in while he plays his guitar. The warm undertone of his skin and hair tickling at her senses. And the sharp smell of the soap he used during his bath before the feast.
All of it combining to make her heart pound faster. His arms around her making her feel safe, and the warmth coming from him staving off the chill of the stonework around them. He lifts her head gently with one hand, and kisses her ever so slowly on the lips. She kisses him back softly, happy to be alone with him once more. She runs her fingers through his hair, and kisses him again, reveling in the feel of his goatee against her skin.
Footsteps echo on stone and the pair freeze, holding on to one another, still as statues. The steps pass and then fade out, loosening the muscles of the two hiding in the alcove. His hand caresses her cheek, and she breathes a sigh, then he trails his fingers through her thick curls. His breath on her neck making her skin prickle, goosebumps rising on the soft flesh.
With the hour growing late, the pair make their way back to their assigned rooms, bidding each other a very reluctant good night. When her door finally closes behind her, all Mutt can do is lean against it and giggle quietly to herself. As giddy as any woman her age would be after such a night. A feeling completely foreign to Mutt, as foreign as the room in which she is standing.
Changing into a nightgown, she slides under the covers of the large four-poster bed, hoping for her life to stay like this. She drifts off to sleep, her mind filled with the memories of her captivity. The blissful days in the garden that she and Neil shared. And the last thing she remembers before sleep takes her, is the sound of his voice as he sings her the song he wrote, the one meant just for her.
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Post by american09mutt on Feb 8, 2010 1:30:41 GMT -5
Early the next morning Mutt is woken by a servant with a note. The simple piece of paper contains a messily written message from Neil, inviting her to go for a walk in the gardens and then to eat breakfast together. Dressing in a soft green woolen dress, Mutt makes her way out to his prescribed meeting place under a statue of Caradine, the Goddess of Love, placed in the seldom-used rose garden.
Glossy curls bounce down her back as she walks along the pathways, through lilac bushes and lovely coral-colored tulips. In the distance, but not in a straight line, she can see Neil waiting beneath the large moss-covered statue. He’s admiring the tall, elegant marble Goddess in all her finery. The overly-done buxom figure is picked out with gold leaf, with a permanently enamored expression on her face. Mutt looks displeased as she examines the statue, obviously under impressed by the workman’s depiction.
“Too much like a young man’s fancying, if you ask me.” she mutters to herself as the statue and her lover pass out of sight around a bend in the pathway. Sunlight streams down onto the gardens, broken here and there by shade-trees and arbors. The light glittering on her skin feels warm and welcome, encouraging Mutt to roll up her sleeves in a most unladylike way. But as always, she’s more prone to peasantly foibles than to courtly propriety. When she finally reaches the last stretch of pathway before the rose garden, she can spy Neil through a crack in the hedge.
His hair has been cut down to a few finger-widths, making it stick up and catch the light. Those beautiful blue-grey eyes are focused on a dark red rose that he is attempting to cut loose from a bush without pricking himself. The navy blue doublet, snowy white shirt, and dark trousers they found for him look splendid. With his trousers tucked neatly into a battered pair of black leather boots, he look like a young noble out for a secret meeting in the rose garden. Which he certainly is, minus the nobility part.
Strolling out from beneath an arch that is covered in bright red roses Mutt pauses, waiting for Neil to look up. When he does so his mouth pops open and the knife and flower quiver in his suddenly shaking hands. The green wool of her dress stands out against the cream and tan of her skin. Her dark curly hair has splashes of red and gold, and the red roses frame her in a perfectly designed background. Neil’s heart skips a beat just looking at this lovely creature before him, but he recalls the knife and remembers to put it away.
With slow steps he approaches her, and he takes a deep breath to steady himself. His hands still tremble as he tucks the rose behind her ear, having shaved off the thorns and made it safe to wear. The smooth petals tickle the side of her face, drawing a sweet laugh from her rosy lips. Once again Neil ponders the events that brought this marvelous woman to him, and then promptly takes her in his arms just to reassure himself. The statue of the Goddess stands above them, now completely forgotten as the couple join hands and wander off through the rose garden together.
Birds sit high in the trees, greeting them and calling out the lady of love’s blessing on this happy morning. A pair of little reddish birds perch on a branch over their heads as they sit on a stone bench, the kind of bird directly connected to the Goddess in every story. The female has a pink heart-shaped splotch on her breast, and coos softly as she sits on her nest. The male has a small crest on top of his head, which Mutt sees very clearly as he dives toward her head.
Plucking the rose from her hair, he pulls out of the dive and returns to his mate. The bright red of the rose perfectly matches her feathers, and he hops over to place it beside her in the nest. Neil looks frustrated but Mutt laughs happily at the birds’ antics, and her laughter makes him smile sheepishly. “It seems I’m not the only one eager to please the woman I love.” he murmurs into Mutt’s ear, making her laugh once more.
A man walking around a shrubbery just ten paces away hears the laughter, and begins to make his way toward it. Not many people frequent these gardens, especially of late. But he always makes a point to walk here, as his mother was very fond of the roses before she passed away, and they reminded him of her.
Breaking through the tree cover, he sees a bench with a man in blue sitting on it. A moment later he spies the woman sitting beside him, the green of her dress blending too well with the bushes behind her for him to see her immediately. Upon spying the woman however, he is stunned into stopping right there in the middle of the gravel path. Her hair is shiny, her dress plain but well-made. Even her demeanor unlike anything he’s ever witnessed before, with her sleeves pushed up and her hair flowing freely in ringlets down her back.
Then there is her laugh. Like water falling over rocks, or the rushing of wind through the leaves of a dozen trees. The way she is sitting cuddled under the man’s arm is a red flag, as is the lack of a ring on either of her hands. Making his way forward, the man can make out more about her, including the tan-ness of her arms. And the way her brown eyes flash with a mixture of cool intelligence and warm mirth. Unable to contain his curiosity, the man approaches them, eager to learn her name.
“Excuse me for the intrusion” he says directly to the man seated on the bench, “but I was walking in the gardens and saw you seated. Few haunt these gardens of late, and I am eager to learn your names, for you are bold to venture here.” With that said the man waits patiently, hands folded in front of him and eyes politely moving from one face to the other in expectation. He is quite aware of two pairs of eyes looking him over, and is shocked to find that the woman’s is more scrutinizing and careful than the open curiosity coming from the man’s gaze.
“My name is Neil, I’m a wandering minstrel and traveler. It’s nice to meet you…” Neil stands and offers a hand, obviously waiting to hear the man’s name. “Richard, if you please. I am a minor noble, a riding companion of the King actually.” Mutt stands as well, and smiles at him. Her eyes meeting his almost on a level, given her height and the addition of tall boots on her feet.
“Good to meet you Richard.” Neil finishes, firmly shaking his hand and grinning kindly. Extending her hand as well, Mutt introduces herself and boldly asks him the question on both her and Neil’s minds. “It’s very nice to meet you Richard. May I ask why few people come to such a lovely place?”
“This garden was the favorite of a woman named Isabella. You’ll find that she is pretty much a ghost here, haunting this garden, one of the galleries on the fourth floor, and the stables by the north gate.” At their startled looks, he slaps his forehead and apologizes. “I do not mean that they are literally haunted, simply that nobody ventures there. Isabella was the King’s love you see, back when he was but a Prince. The lady broke his heart, and when he is restless he storms through those places like a raging bull.
“She was beautiful, Isabella. Her eyes like glittering sapphires, and her hair like beaten copper. And she was fair-skinned and delicate, not at all what the old king wanted for his son. But the tenderhearted boy fell in love with her of course, and wished to marry her. All according to her plans, of course. She baited him along, accepting the lovely gifts he would bring her, and demanding all of his attention.
“One morning in late September, he rose early to go to her, and beg her just one more time to marry him. But he found her in the rose garden, kissing a man whom he had called friend. The prince ran off in anger, and they ran to the stables. Before he could bring the guard, they had made it to the stables and taken a pair of horses. They ran away together, and neither was heard from or seen again.”
A few minutes pass as the pair of them contemplate the sad tale, and Neil brushes at his eyes to prevent his tears from falling. Mutt’s brow furrows and she asks how the gallery is haunted then, if it is not part of the tale. “Ah, you’re a clever one. You see before she ran away, the prince had commissioned a portrait of her. It was nearly complete when she made her escape, the last bit of the bottom right corner left unfinished.”
Pausing a moment, Richard smiles. “Would you like me to show you the painting? I’d be delighted to be the one to show you the way.” His offer is smooth, nonchalant, and friendly. Mutt and Neil gladly accept, happy to have a local show them around. Maybe if he can befriend these people, he’ll learn who they are, and why they are so different from the people here at court.
Richard leads the way, threading through paths that double back on themselves, under trees and through a small maze. When they finally come back within sight of the keep’s wall, the only door in view is a small wooden barred affair. It looks locked, but Richard easily gets it open, and the door squeals with rusted age and disuse. He takes them through empty rooms and up a thin staircase, and they emerge from behind a tapestry in a long gallery. The picture of Isabella is the only one hanging on the long wall.
Every surface is caked in dust, except for the painting itself, the frame it is held in, and a well-worn path from the main door to a spot directly in front of the portrait. The room is empty save for a small table near the door, and the man standing in the center of the room, staring at them. “What are you doing here?” he shouts angrily, and Richards face pales to the color of old oatmeal. “Ry-Ryan I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you’d be in here!” Richard manages to reply, his voice cracking on the last word.
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Post by american09mutt on Feb 20, 2010 23:37:00 GMT -5
Ryan’s hair is a mess, and he looks like he hasn’t slept since yesterday. Even worse, he looks like he hasn’t bathed or shaved since they last saw him. He hasn’t even changed out of the clothes from the night before. His eyes are red-rimmed and his cheeks tear-stained. And his eyes are murderously cold.
“How dare you bring them here?” He says it softly, a quiet seething anger in his voice. Dragging the rumpled sleeve of his shirt across his face to dry it, he begins advancing toward them. Every step seems to cause him pain, as if the farther he walks from Isabella’s face, the weaker he gets. Ten feet from them he pauses, and everyone looks toward the door that has creaked open across the room.
Keva’s face peeks through the opening, and then she shoves the door wide open. Her face is a younger, feminine version of Ryan’s, except she has obviously slept and bathed. A pair of dark eyes flash with anger across the room at them. The purple linen gown she’s wearing is very plain, but she holds herself with a regal air. “Get out. All of you. There is no need to stand in here with the eyes of a dead woman eating at your soul.”
Ryan visibly flinches at her words, but meekly turns around and walks toward the main door. The others follow, hesitant to approach the king but afraid to disobey. Captain Mutt is the last one in the gallery, and gets a good look at Isabella’s portrait before leaving. How could such a beautiful woman have the heart of stone that Richard spoke of? How could she have broken the heart of such a young sweet prince? Meeting Keva’s eyes she gets her answer; Isabella was cruel. A horrible, vain, strong-willed, and vicious woman. And by the way Keva is looking at Mutt, she apparently assumes the same from the Captain.
In the corridor Ryan is leaning against the wall with his back to the rest, obviously attempting to compose himself. Nobody dares speak as Keva ushers them into a study a few doors down the hall. The room looks to have once been used very regularly, the rugs worn and the furnishings comfortably functional. But the thin layer of dust over everything declares the rooms most recent use, as does the odd collection of items within.
An ivory brush sits on the edge of the desk. Next to it is a mirror with mother of pearl inlaid into the handle. A hair-comb with pearls studding it, and a stack of papers tied with a coppery ribbon. And lastly the large wardrobe off to one side, with a bit of dark velvet hanging out the bottom of a door left slightly ajar. Upon closer examination of the items, things start to click home in the Captain’s head. Taking a better look at the brush, she spots a copper-colored hair tightly wound in its bristles.
All of these things used to belong to Isabella. Anything she left behind when she fled the palace is collected right here in this room. Meaning the three large chests on the far wall probably contained more of her things. That the king kept a sort of bleak shrine to his former love. Whether in an attempt to maintain some kind of bond with the woman he’d loved, or to banish her from his thoughts, Mutt can only guess.
A callused hand entering her vision is enough to end her reverie, as Neil seeks comfort from the dead woman’s lurking memory. He’s very obviously uncomfortable with seeing this room, and his shoulders relax the second Mutt’s hand slides into his. A sweet smile at her, one that creases the skin by his eyes but doesn’t reach his lips. The man doesn’t know how he makes her heart skip a beat when he does that.
Unexpectedly, the door to the room opens, and the King strides in. Seeing them holding hands, he pulls up short and looks awkwardly between them. Clearing his throat and making a point of looking unconcerned, he addresses Richard. “I would like you to attend me this afternoon when I go to practice in the north yard.” To which young Richard nods.
“Would you also care to accompany us, Captain? And master Neil?” he looks pointedly between them, waiting for one of them to answer. By the way he looks at Mutt, he is aware that Neil will do whatever she likes. The hand holding hers squeezes just slightly, alerting Mutt to Neil’s feelings. “We would be honored to attend your Majesty. I should like to get myself used to such work again, now that I am well. Unfortunately Neil will have to watch from the sidelines. It’s his job to make sure I don’t overextend myself too soon.”
Ryan’s left eyebrow quirks up slightly, but he keeps his face a polite mask. “Of course, we’ll put you up against some very basic fighters and then have you work your way back to full fighting strength.” The smile he gives Mutt is genuine, the calculating look one swordsman gives another. But the look he favors Neil with is just passably polite. Without another word, he leaves the group in the company of a woman long dead.
“Well that was pleasant wasn’t it? You’ve even got an invite to sword practice with the King’s Men!” Richard’s attempt to be cheerful is lackluster, but everyone present picks up the tone. Keva even makes an attempt at a smile. “Richard why don’t you escort them back to their rooms? I think they’ll be wanting lunch soon enough, and the King won’t like it if you’re all late this afternoon.” Opening the door, she gestures for everyone to follow her out.
With Richard to lead the way, the trip back to their hall is easy and filled with lighthearted banter. Once he gets past his initial distrust of any man that comes near his lover, even Neil is able to enjoy the man’s affable nature. They order food and drink to be brought, and Richard is invited to share the meal with them. The pleasant company and hearty food helps to ease the cold chill they all felt looking into a dead woman’s gaze. And the way Richard’s smile lights up the cool stone room is enough to distract anyone. In the back of Mutt’s mind however, a plan is stirring.
A dress being impractical for fighting, Mutt changes into a pair of soft woolen breeches and tall black boots. The cotton shirt and padded doublet she pulls on over it are well made but practical. Doing a few stretches to check the flexibility of the cloth is essential, but doing it out in the hall is a step Mutt takes simply to attract the notice of her love. Neil’s blush and the sparkling of his eyes tell her that she’s indeed ready to do this.
Making their way to the practice field is no difficulty, though the Captain in men’s clothing draws more than a few odd stares along the way. Her hair bound and her movements as steady and uncaring as a sleek hunter. At the field pairs of men are already at practice, hitting one another with blunt blades. Some are lined up facing bales of hay, shooting short bows made of roughened wood. Several eyes, however, are fixed on a pair at the center of the field. The fighters evenly matched and struggling to find an opening in the other’s guard.
One is a man, the other very obviously a woman. The dark hair spilling out from beneath the round helm gives Mutt a guess of who it might be. There’s a tall, broad-shouldered man facing off against her, tow-colored braids spilling from beneath his helm. He easily tops her height by another 10 inches or so, and his reach is much longer. But the viper quick movements of the woman are keeping the giant at bay, catching him up short each times he swings in. his blows are powerful, but when caught on a shield they have the effect of a gust of wind.
Finally, an unintentional opening in the man’s guard lets the woman snake in. She strikes fast, and the man freezes, the bought over. Her sword is poised just below his chin, at the breach between gorget and helm. He lifts his hands in surrender, a deep chuckle booming out from his chest. “All right love you win, no need to kick a man when he’s already whipped!” the exclamation draws a chuckle from their small audience and a confused look from Mutt and Neil.
Lowering her sword, the woman removes her helm and shakes out her dark hair. “Don’t worry dear, you’ll be at my side in a battle. I’ll keep you safe.” The lusty wink she gives the giant draws a few guffaws from the crowd, until she mock glares at them. This is the first time Captain has ever seen Keva show an ounce of humanity. Funny that it happened when the woman also has a sword in her hand.
Now the giant is removing his helm, his blonde braids clinging to his neck and his green eyes glittering with mirth. “My fair flower of the battlefield. My lovely Corpas Liturim.” More laughter rises at the mention of the iron-loving red flowers found on many ancient battlefields. “Would that I were so lucky to wed a leopardess such as thee!” her bemused expression gives the large man a bit more confidence. “But she hasn’t given me a yea or nay. Will she ever?” he finishes a little softly, looking into her eyes.
“Why should I marry a man that can’t even defeat me in a fair fight?” the scathing words rip into the tall man, bringing a hurt expression to his jovial face. “But then…” she continues, “A leopardess must marry a leopard, not a lion or a tiger.” A soft smile creases her lips. “If the King gives you his blessing, I shall marry you Ulfgar. You’ve earned both my respect and…” a shy smile. “And my love.” The words leave her lips bare seconds before Ulfgar gathers her in his massive arms, swinging her around.
The sword he had fought her with just seconds before lies unnoticed on the ground. A pair of black boots makes their way through the crowd, topped by grey woolen breeches. A black and red doublet smoothly sits over a fine grey linen shirt. The dark head bobs down as the sword is lifted in one gloved hand, then a pair of flashing blue eyes bores into the back of Ulfgar’s head. “I believe my permission is needed before anything is final, Ulfgar.” The words come out slightly cool, but with an air of friendly challenge to them.
Setting Keva down, Ulfgar looks at his liege-lord humbly. The seconds pass, and he marches slowly forward, then drops to his knees in front of Ryan. “My lord, I wish to marry your cousins’ only child. I do not do so in hopes of power, or out of greed. I do it for love. I wish to spend all my days with Keva, and to care for her, and have her bear my children.” A gulp to settle his thoughts, then he looks up to meet Ryan’s eyes. “To raise up fine warriors to the King’s household, and do him justice thereby. To be not just a brother-in-arms, but kin. If you will have me.”
Not a soul breathes in that space of time, as the King slowly walks around the kneeling giant of a man. When he reaches his former place, the King stands staring down at Ulfgar with a puzzled expression. “You are neither nobility nor a Knight. How can I possibly allow you to marry the only Princess left to my kingdom?” the tone is ambiguous but the words cause Ulfgar’s shoulders to droop. The King lifts the sword by its hilt, looking at it thoughtfully. “Then again… There’s more than one way to deal with you.” the words end in a slight growl, as he brings the sword down toward Ulfgar’s neck.
Steel slaps flesh with a loud thump, and Ulfgar grunts slightly, the flat of the blade hitting his shoulder. “I Ryan do make you a Knight of my realm.” Thump as it hits his other shoulder. “To serve me as vassal and councilor, to hold my lands and fight by my side.” With tears in his eyes, Ulfgar bows his head to receive the light blow to his head. “Rise Sir Ulfgar, Knight of Barendun and sheildbrother of the King.”
“What’s a shieldbrother?” Neil’s hiss is just audible above the cheers echoing off the stone walls. Richard’s reply is smooth, his mouth barely budging from its wide smile. “It means he is a member of the King’s own Knights, the group assigned to the palace. He’ll be allowed to court the King’s cousin Keva, and then if the King allows, they will live on her dowry lands and raise many fine children to be the King’s heirs.” A slight pause, “That is if he never marries of course. Though at this point it seems unlikely that he will.”
The little musician nods, filing it away in the back of his head with the rest of the knowledge he gleans from his travels. But the Captain considers it thoughtfully while it is still fresh. A ruler who does not seek to ensure the passage of his kingdom to his own heir, but lets it fall to the daughter of a cousin instead. What kind of a man is he that he would let a thing like a broken heart come before the good of his realm?
A servant approaches the trio with practice gear, and several more congregate to help them suit up. Mutt is only allowed a light rapier and shield, in the hopes that it would tire her less quickly than a proper blade. She is matched with a Squire who she judges to be old enough to shave, but not old enough to be a man yet. Perhaps 17 or so. Tall and big-handed, but not fleshed out and muscular like his older comrades.
The mop on his head is a dusty brown, his eyes the color of a fawn. And right now, he looks cocky enough to annoy the Captain. She hefts her sword and shield, getting the feel of the steel in her hand and setting her feet. The young man slowly circles her, testing her reflexes and her reach. Finally he darts in, expecting to find a gap in the defense of her right leg. But her shield whips down as her blade darts in, the blunted steel stopping inside his armpit, right over his artery.
“Kill.” He grunts unhappily. The way he stomps off amid hoots and hollers tells Mutt she may have won herself an enemy, no matter that she’s older and more experienced than he. Her gender is all the difference to him, and being beat by a woman has shamed him greatly. A new opponent faces her, a blonde man about her own height of 5 feet 8 inches tall. His lack of bulk and height might fool a lesser foe, but the Captain recognizes the whipcord muscles in his arms.
She doesn’t waste her time underestimating his speed either. His quick reflexes make up for his shorter arms, and he keeps Mutt tied up watching his blade for 53 long seconds. They exchange cursory feints and parries to test one another, taking a greater appreciation of skill than can be had at first glance. Her long arms and fast timing surprise him, but he concentrates on his attack. A quick cut up under her shield nearly takes her lag, but she knocks it just shy of a cut with the edge of her shield.
His eyes being focused on the point of his blade, he doesn’t see hers flick inside his guard until it is resting just below his belt. Eyes widening and face paling, he glances down at where the point of steel sits tapping the buckle of his belt in a metronome rhythm. He steps back swiftly, shouting “Kill!” and then fading into the crowd of men as quick as can be. The Captain’s chuckle cuts the tension of the fight, and the men around her laugh in return. One pipes up off to her left “Well seems we need to put her ‘gainst somethin’ bit tougher than those lads, eh?”
The lanky brunette that unfolds himself from a nearby bench stands at about 6 feet 2 inches in his stocking feet. The long rapier in his gloved left hand is intricately made for a practice weapon, and the smirk on his face is teasing. Unfortunately, the look in his eyes is anything but friendly. He squares off against the Captain, the first left-hander she’s fought since her capture months before. The muscles in her arms and back are already beginning to ache, but the Captain would never back down from a challenge. Especially one coming from such a flashy peacock.
Raising her blade between her eyes to signal her readiness, Mutt bends her knees a bit more and sinks into a crouch. Raising her right arm to eye level, she flicks her arm out the shield straps and holds her hand out to Neil. Confused, he stares at the hand momentarily, until their practices on The Dark Lady’s main deck float into his mind. Grinning broadly, he places a thin dagger hilt-first in her open hand. The Captain brings the point of the dagger up to form almost a right angle with the point of her rapier, with the peacock as the target.
No expression shows on the Captain’s face, simply a calculating look in her eyes. The normal golden brown of her irises deepening to dark pools. Where a peacock once stood facing her, a disdainful young man with harsh grey eyes now stands. He salutes her as well, and circles to the right, keeping their blades between them. A quick feint in at her head, and he skips back beyond her reach. The sheer force of her parry rocking him back on his heels. Her arms return to their angles, no measure of effort wasted.
Angry now, he attacks again and again. Blindly chopping down at her with furious sword-strokes, trying to beat past her defenses for a win. The Captain smoothly blocks each blow, each parry melding into the next. A furious light fills the eyes of the young man, and he catches the point of both her weapons on his shield. With his rapier free, he slides in to swipe at her leg in a hamstringing blow.
Flashes of light fill the Captain’s vision, and she recalls the fight aboard The Dark Lady vividly. Including the last blow out of nowhere, the one that broke her leg and sent pain roaring through her body. A feral growl rips free of her throat, the brown of her eyes melting into the black of her pupils. With a burst of effort she frees her sword and smacks it down, locking the weapons together. He is trapped with the point of his sword grinding in the dirt and unable to break it free of her hold.
Only a dagger and a shield remain between them, and another feral noise rises from her throat. His tongue is suddenly dry and sticky, and his right arm feels like lead. He tries to bring his shield up to defend himself, but his mind is gibbering in fear. There is no humanity left in her gaze; nothing but an animalistic anger born of pain and torment. That’s the last thing he sees before she punches him hard in the side of the head, and everything goes black.
With the images so clear in her head, Mutt lost herself in the pain. She gave up all semblance of proper combat practices, and lashed out at her opponent. In the back of her head she still knew that it wasn’t his fault, but she couldn’t keep herself from hitting him. Then she could also not keep herself from standing over him and smacking him across the face with the flat of her blade. And yet, the blow never fell.
A hand gripping her elbow stops her from killing the young man. The steel-strong muscles belong to an arm wrapped in grey material. Slowly coming back to herself, Mutt looks up into Ryan’s face with a look of complete horror in her eyes. His own fear and anger melt away when he sees her tormented face, and sees that she didn’t know what she was doing. This is further affirmed by her dropping both her weapons and falling to her knees to check the man’s pulse.
Satisfied that he would live, Mutt rocks back onto her ankles, her eyes staring blankly at the young man she almost murdered. A dark figure kneels beside her, his strong hand on her shoulder. Looking up into those worried blue eyes brings emotion flooding back into her broken mind, and tears dribble down her cheeks. Ryan moves as if to hold her, but is brought up short by someone shoving roughly past him to reach Mutt.
Neil plants himself firmly in front of her, and gathers her into his arms, stroking her hair and singing softly to her. “It’s alright love; breathe deep the clean sweet air. Tomorrow is ‘nother day, and I hope to see you there.” The words fade out as Ryan stands and steps back. His fists clench as he orders men to carry the young unconscious idiot up to the infirmary. The flashing anger in his eyes gets a quick response, but it isn’t directed at them.
Ryan is frustrated that this happened on such a happy day, a day he had hoped to earn the Captain’s trust and respect by accepting her as a fellow warrior. He’s angry that the young man had baited her so, and completely terrified by her utterly ferocious assault. And most of all he’s furious with himself. After his heart seems to finally be healing from the bloody wreck Isabella left it in, despite knowing that her lover stood not far away; he had reached out to her. He had gone to her, and purposely reached to comfort her.
Something he’d sworn he’d never do to anyone but kin for the remainder of his days. And yet this strange woman from the sea brought this reaction on him, unexpectedly, and unthinkingly. The lonely King is still wracking his brain as he follows the stretcher up to the infirmary, trying to figure out when it was that this woman had so captivated him. Then he knew. The moment she had looked him in the eyes. Defiantly staring him down as flames licked toward her skin, stretching forth fiery tongues to consume her. In that moment he’d found the woman to cauterize his bleeding heart, and save his kingdom from despair.
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