[She takes stock of the room, turning a circle, and recognizing this is probably where Hornigold used to sit and drink late at night. The man is probably sitting in a bar now, plotting how to get his fort back. Daphne does not suspect any attempt will be easy. She's a unique case; no one else could manage what she just did.
Not even Eleanor Guthrie would be able to swagger her way into the fort like this. In fairness, Daphne has the benefit of anonymity, and not having destroyed Vane's life, but still.
She goes to the table, and settles on it.]
Here I am showing my new manners and calling you Captain Vane and everything.
[ Security is temporary. He knows that very well. But for the moment, it doesn't get much more secure than this.
He approaches the table, and leans around her without taking his eyes from her face, to pick up a bottle resting just behind her. Then he gestures for her to hand him a cup on her other side. ]
And I can promise you now, if you keep coming at me in front of my men like that, you won't receive such a warm welcome next time.
[She hands him a cup, and tips her head to one side. There's open curiosity in her face.]
I'll deal with that problem when it comes.
[She's not afraid of Charles Vane; he knows it, and it's a bedrock of their friendship. She's not afraid of anyone here. She thought, for a while, there had to be at least one other shifter on Nassau, somewhere, but if there is they haven't bothered to make themselves known, so she remains gently unconcerned.
She lifts her chin, and there's that calculating look on her face again.]
Why take the fort?
Are you doing it because you want to sit here, comfortable and fat on the trade, or do you have another reason?
[ His perspective exactly; should that problem come, it would signal to him an end of their friendship, because that lack of respect could not stand. Whether or not he'd be able to kill her - in more ways than one - would be of secondary concern to the necessity for treating her as an enemy in the first place.
But that's later, if at all, and he hopes not. So he pops the cork on the bottle, takes the cup, and pours some thickly red port into it, before offering it to her. The bottle he keeps for himself. ]
You think I give a fuck about trade?
[ He throws back a very deep swig. ]
I'm a pirate. I see something I want, I take it - and if I have to sink every ship in the bay first, then so be it.
I think you're a pirate, and half of you belongs to the ocean. Half of you can't stay trapped up here, watching the ships sink in the bay.
[She takes that cup, and takes a drink. It's very good; thick and rich on the tongue, sweet. Aged in a way that most wine around here never gets. He plundered it, then, from Hornigold's secret stash, she assumes.]
So which half are you going to kill? The one that wants the sea, or the one that wants Eleanor Guthrie to belly up to him?
[This is a dangerous thing, and she knows it. She also knows they're alone, and when they're alone, he's far more tolerant. If she had said this in front of his men, he would have shot her, at best.
She may not be afraid of him, but she doesn't actually want to end their friendship.]
[ The way he narrows his eyes at her this time is far more of a warning - although, knowing him as well as she does, she may notice that there's no rage behind it, like there would have been. Temper flaring, all bright and hot.
There's coldness there instead, now. He came back here prepared to do what was necessary. ]
I have no present need to kill anyone. Eleanor's a smart woman. She'll see that the only way the wind remains in her favor...
[ A gesture of the bottle. Yes, she's got a point, but so what. ]
[The first time she saw him, dehydrated, exhausted, disgusted with herself, she thought he must be a Simba. That her nose was lying to her because she had been on whatever drug the hunters had given her. It's his face, his hair, that look. The one he's giving her now. The lion in him.
She takes another drink, to give them both a second.
There are other questions she could ask. Equally pointed ones, but she knows the answer. Why didn't you take another ship. Why pretend that this is anything but what it is.]
She's not that smart. Not smarter than she is proud.
[ Normally, even a glancing blow at Eleanor like that would have sparked his temper, whether he was angry with her or not. This time he just snorts. ]
She's coming around already. Gave up the only advantage Hornigold's men might have had to try and take back the fort.
[ The tunnels. He'd made his demands, and she capitulated, because he left her no choice. Vane had the element of surprise on his side, and pressed it for every inch it was worth. ]
She'll push back, because she has to, but sooner or later she'll come to her senses.
[ He casts a brief glance back toward the window. ]
If that’s anything, it’s interesting. Certainly, it makes her eyes flick at him, and then away a little. She tugs her legs up, as if she weren’t wearing stays and a petticoat, and tucks them to sit cross legged, her skirts in her lap.]
You’re not wrong.
[Daphne doesn’t know Flint outside of reputation; he’s the kind of man that sees too much. The kind she avoids. So.]
What do you want from me, then?
[She asks with the knowledge that the answer might be nothing. Something changed in him, something good. He isn’t the same man who left in a drugged haze. This is the man who she met, six months ago.
She likes this.]
Other than to get out of your room.
[She doubts he wants that, anyway. She may not be golden haired and a symbol of everything that Charles thinks represents a future, but she is also one of the few people outside his crew who tells him the honest truth, even when he would want anything but.]
[ At that, he raises an eyebrow, and then holds the bottle toward her in an offer to top her off. ]
I want to actually celebrate the taking of this goddamn place.
[ His men have been very pleased with themselves, and have already started to haul up food and drink and spread across the tables in the courtyard with an excess of both. Vane told them to send some meat down to him, and in the meantime he has, in fact, been helping himself to Hornigold's stash. ]
[The smile that crosses her face is a flicker at first, and then it’s wide, slow, and she takes a long drink of wine, keeping her eyes on him. She’ll stay and drink and celebrate with him.
She does get up though, legs akimbo, and go to the window, to look out at the bay. The sun is setting now over the water, and she looks over at him.]
[ He watches her go for a moment or two before he follows her, bringing the bottle with him.
It's true. The view is one of a kind. ]
I am the future of Nassau. Whatever that future looks like.
[ Flint is going to take issue with that, and Vane knows the man well enough not to expect him to submit as efficiently as Eleanor did. Whether it's Flint or Spain or England, there will be a war on that beach sooner or later. But for now, everything is as it should be - including Hornigold's men erecting camp among the other crews on the stretch of sand. ]
You've made a home for yourself here, haven't you?
[She recognizes a king when she sees one, but there is a chill that goes down her spine. She is missing so much context here, and it makes her afraid that this will end in bloodshed and horror that she could stop. There is a storm coming.
Well.
She nods a little.]
I’ve done what I can, in any case. Passage home is no easy feat, even if I could find a ship willing.
[She takes a moment.]
My complaints are minimal, either way. Why? Do you want to invite me to take part in this future?
To tell you the truth, I never expected you to stay here this long.
[ Finding passage home is difficult, but not impossible, and while other women might balk at the idea of trying to make their way in the world alone, Daphne has never struck him as that sort of woman. ]
But whatever comes next, I'd like to know that I have you on my side for it.
The first few weeks she was in Nassau, she wanted nothing more than to try and find a way home. A ship to Tenerife; she could have stayed with her mother, and then found a way to Morocco, head towards Mecca, cross overland a bit, and finally another ship home. She's dangerous enough that she could manage it on her own, and she wanted to.
But she spent more time - so much more time - watching things unfold here. In India, she is a queen, and she misses that power, but there is a rawness here, on this nightmare spit of sand that she finds interesting.
So.]
I have debts to resolve.
[She looks up at him, her eyes a little dark.]
You could have used me, and you didn't. Before. You could have taken me to Cuba, where they planned on selling me to the governor there, and you didn't. It would have made you a fortune.
[She shrugs.]
Maybe Flint would have done the same. But he wasn't the one there that day.
[ Yes, he could have. Jack had even suggested it. But Vane refused, for one very significant reason: ]
You didn't belong to them, either.
[ He's not above ransom; far from it. Excellent way to bring in a significant payday without bloodshed or having to deal with pesky matters of economics. But Vane would only ransom back something that once belonged to his enemy in the first place.
He is not in the habit of treating people as cargo. ]
If you carried a powerful name from a wealthy family, I might well have taken the chance. But you were a wild thing, and this is where wild things come, sooner or later.
[A powerful name from a wealthy family. She practically has to hold back the bark of laughter that presses from between her teeth. She was both, and he doesn't know it.]
No. You're right. I didn't belong to them, either.
[She takes a moment.]
Go lie on the bed. On your belly. Take your shirt off.
[She goes to set her cup down, and she pauses before she does.]
You can keep a knife, if you want, to stab me if I do anything untoward.
[ He doesn't bother to hide his interest, lifting a curious eyebrow and watching her very carefully as she puts the cup aside.
With one more deep swallow from the bottle, still watching her, he follows, setting his drink down on the table beside her cup and dragging his shirt over his head without any hesitation.
It's his knife that makes him pause; he takes it from his belt, and makes a point of considering her with the blade in his hand, before finally and deliberately setting it down on the table as well. A purposeful gesture of trust.
[She dips her head so he can't see her smile, and comes over to straddle his thighs, and runs her hands down his back.]
You clearly haven't had anyone touch you in weeks.
[She says it softly, and her hands move up his back, and a moment later, she finds the tension against his spine, and begins to press her fingers into those spots, digs her fingers into muscle and starts working those spots she knows are tight.]
Where I'm from, a doctor might do this for a ruler. Once, or twice a week.
[ His initial answer to that statement is just a low, extremely heady groan; his eyes are already shut, and good lord that feels so fucking good. Why doesn't he have the whores do this more often?
Well, because usually he likes to fuck first, relax second. That's why. ]
Sounds like fucking luxury.
[ She's never told him where she's from, exactly, despite the numerous times he's pressed her with idle curiosity. Over time, she's told him more and more about the place, but never what or where it is, and it doesn't sound like any place he's ever been. The curiosity has never faded. ]
[She keeps pressing her fingers into his back, knowing that a proper lady here would never do this. Eleanor Guthrie would never do this. A whore might, if she were paid. Daphne learned to do this from one of the doctors at home, before she was a queen, when she was still just a girl. Before she ever shifted.
She finds those sweet pressure points right at the base of his skull and digs her thumbs there.]
It's too far. You would go, and you would have to stay. You wouldn't want to leave Nassau for that long.
[ He groans again, quieter this time, but it goes long as her fingers press into the back of his neck. ]
I'm not afraid of a long voyage.
[ The fortress won't be forever. When Eleanor finally comes around to their proper partnership, he'll be able to leave the island in her hands and come back to take his place beside her. He could find himself a new ship and sail across the seas to the distant land that Daphne came from.
His voice comes out guttural, as every limb slowly goes loose and limp. ]
[She rocks her hands into his muscle, moving in silence for a time, up his arms, down his back, using that strength of her hands to break apart the tension. There are places she can tell that he's probably used to being sore, and she works there for a long moment.]
My home is in the base of a jungle, against a series of mountains. It's been independent for centuries, a small kingdom, wedged between the sea a river so wide that one of your ships could navigate it. There are legends about us. They say that the jungle was where the first tigers came from.
[She keeps pressing.]
It is wilder than here. Less civilized. But richer. The jungle is thicker, the ocean is more savage. We kept the English and the Portuguese at bay.
[She almost never talks about India; she almost never talks about this. She misses home.]
The sky is bluer there, I think. Maybe it's always bluer, when you think of home.
[ It sounds like a fucking paradise. Maybe that's just the state of mind he's slipping into, with every muscle in his body turning to warm jelly, but he's never wanted to go there more than he does now, listening to her talk about it.
Nassau isn't the only place for wild things.
His eyes have opened. He only realizes it when she moves just enough to let him see her from the corner of his eye. ]
[The tension is practically oozing out of him, and she keeps going, wanting to press her nose against the nape of his neck, to catch the smell of him where it’s thickest and keep it in her nose. This is insane.
She rocks her fingers into his skin.]
I do miss it. The food, the spices. The way the ocean smelled. My house. Nassau, at least, is better than some cold European shore.
We used to hunt elephants. They’re bigger than a house. Enormous creatures, with tusks, and a long nose they use to eat, and drink. One can smash a man flat. My cousin found a baby elephant once and raised it, and even as a baby it was as large as a horse.
If you took me home, I would show you everything. Where the water of the river runs over with rubies, in the height of the rainy season. Pink and yellow ones. We polish them and sell them to the Mughals, sometimes. The ones we don’t keep.
[She rocks her entire body forward a bit, to put her weight into this.]
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cribellate2022-02-27 11:31 am
no subject
[She takes stock of the room, turning a circle, and recognizing this is probably where Hornigold used to sit and drink late at night. The man is probably sitting in a bar now, plotting how to get his fort back. Daphne does not suspect any attempt will be easy. She's a unique case; no one else could manage what she just did.
Not even Eleanor Guthrie would be able to swagger her way into the fort like this. In fairness, Daphne has the benefit of anonymity, and not having destroyed Vane's life, but still.
She goes to the table, and settles on it.]
Here I am showing my new manners and calling you Captain Vane and everything.
[There's a sharpness to her smile.]
But you look altogether cozy up here.
no subject
[ Security is temporary. He knows that very well. But for the moment, it doesn't get much more secure than this.
He approaches the table, and leans around her without taking his eyes from her face, to pick up a bottle resting just behind her. Then he gestures for her to hand him a cup on her other side. ]
And I can promise you now, if you keep coming at me in front of my men like that, you won't receive such a warm welcome next time.
no subject
I'll deal with that problem when it comes.
[She's not afraid of Charles Vane; he knows it, and it's a bedrock of their friendship. She's not afraid of anyone here. She thought, for a while, there had to be at least one other shifter on Nassau, somewhere, but if there is they haven't bothered to make themselves known, so she remains gently unconcerned.
She lifts her chin, and there's that calculating look on her face again.]
Why take the fort?
Are you doing it because you want to sit here, comfortable and fat on the trade, or do you have another reason?
no subject
But that's later, if at all, and he hopes not. So he pops the cork on the bottle, takes the cup, and pours some thickly red port into it, before offering it to her. The bottle he keeps for himself. ]
You think I give a fuck about trade?
[ He throws back a very deep swig. ]
I'm a pirate. I see something I want, I take it - and if I have to sink every ship in the bay first, then so be it.
no subject
[She takes that cup, and takes a drink. It's very good; thick and rich on the tongue, sweet. Aged in a way that most wine around here never gets. He plundered it, then, from Hornigold's secret stash, she assumes.]
So which half are you going to kill? The one that wants the sea, or the one that wants Eleanor Guthrie to belly up to him?
[This is a dangerous thing, and she knows it. She also knows they're alone, and when they're alone, he's far more tolerant. If she had said this in front of his men, he would have shot her, at best.
She may not be afraid of him, but she doesn't actually want to end their friendship.]
I'm not blind.
no subject
There's coldness there instead, now. He came back here prepared to do what was necessary. ]
I have no present need to kill anyone. Eleanor's a smart woman. She'll see that the only way the wind remains in her favor...
[ A gesture of the bottle. Yes, she's got a point, but so what. ]
...is if she aligns her path with mine.
no subject
She takes another drink, to give them both a second.
There are other questions she could ask. Equally pointed ones, but she knows the answer. Why didn't you take another ship. Why pretend that this is anything but what it is.]
She's not that smart. Not smarter than she is proud.
Should I prepare for war?
no subject
She's coming around already. Gave up the only advantage Hornigold's men might have had to try and take back the fort.
[ The tunnels. He'd made his demands, and she capitulated, because he left her no choice. Vane had the element of surprise on his side, and pressed it for every inch it was worth. ]
She'll push back, because she has to, but sooner or later she'll come to her senses.
[ He casts a brief glance back toward the window. ]
It's Flint I have to worry about.
no subject
If that’s anything, it’s interesting. Certainly, it makes her eyes flick at him, and then away a little. She tugs her legs up, as if she weren’t wearing stays and a petticoat, and tucks them to sit cross legged, her skirts in her lap.]
You’re not wrong.
[Daphne doesn’t know Flint outside of reputation; he’s the kind of man that sees too much. The kind she avoids. So.]
What do you want from me, then?
[She asks with the knowledge that the answer might be nothing. Something changed in him, something good. He isn’t the same man who left in a drugged haze. This is the man who she met, six months ago.
She likes this.]
Other than to get out of your room.
[She doubts he wants that, anyway. She may not be golden haired and a symbol of everything that Charles thinks represents a future, but she is also one of the few people outside his crew who tells him the honest truth, even when he would want anything but.]
no subject
I want to actually celebrate the taking of this goddamn place.
[ His men have been very pleased with themselves, and have already started to haul up food and drink and spread across the tables in the courtyard with an excess of both. Vane told them to send some meat down to him, and in the meantime he has, in fact, been helping himself to Hornigold's stash. ]
So, you can stay and drink, or get the fuck out.
no subject
She does get up though, legs akimbo, and go to the window, to look out at the bay. The sun is setting now over the water, and she looks over at him.]
It is a rather spectacular view, captain.
no subject
It's true. The view is one of a kind. ]
I am the future of Nassau. Whatever that future looks like.
[ Flint is going to take issue with that, and Vane knows the man well enough not to expect him to submit as efficiently as Eleanor did. Whether it's Flint or Spain or England, there will be a war on that beach sooner or later. But for now, everything is as it should be - including Hornigold's men erecting camp among the other crews on the stretch of sand. ]
You've made a home for yourself here, haven't you?
no subject
Well.
She nods a little.]
I’ve done what I can, in any case. Passage home is no easy feat, even if I could find a ship willing.
[She takes a moment.]
My complaints are minimal, either way. Why? Do you want to invite me to take part in this future?
no subject
[ Finding passage home is difficult, but not impossible, and while other women might balk at the idea of trying to make their way in the world alone, Daphne has never struck him as that sort of woman. ]
But whatever comes next, I'd like to know that I have you on my side for it.
no subject
The first few weeks she was in Nassau, she wanted nothing more than to try and find a way home. A ship to Tenerife; she could have stayed with her mother, and then found a way to Morocco, head towards Mecca, cross overland a bit, and finally another ship home. She's dangerous enough that she could manage it on her own, and she wanted to.
But she spent more time - so much more time - watching things unfold here. In India, she is a queen, and she misses that power, but there is a rawness here, on this nightmare spit of sand that she finds interesting.
So.]
I have debts to resolve.
[She looks up at him, her eyes a little dark.]
You could have used me, and you didn't. Before. You could have taken me to Cuba, where they planned on selling me to the governor there, and you didn't. It would have made you a fortune.
[She shrugs.]
Maybe Flint would have done the same. But he wasn't the one there that day.
no subject
You didn't belong to them, either.
[ He's not above ransom; far from it. Excellent way to bring in a significant payday without bloodshed or having to deal with pesky matters of economics. But Vane would only ransom back something that once belonged to his enemy in the first place.
He is not in the habit of treating people as cargo. ]
If you carried a powerful name from a wealthy family, I might well have taken the chance. But you were a wild thing, and this is where wild things come, sooner or later.
no subject
No. You're right. I didn't belong to them, either.
[She takes a moment.]
Go lie on the bed. On your belly. Take your shirt off.
[She goes to set her cup down, and she pauses before she does.]
You can keep a knife, if you want, to stab me if I do anything untoward.
I want to give you a gift.
no subject
With one more deep swallow from the bottle, still watching her, he follows, setting his drink down on the table beside her cup and dragging his shirt over his head without any hesitation.
It's his knife that makes him pause; he takes it from his belt, and makes a point of considering her with the blade in his hand, before finally and deliberately setting it down on the table as well. A purposeful gesture of trust.
Then he moves to stretch out on the bed. ]
no subject
You clearly haven't had anyone touch you in weeks.
[She says it softly, and her hands move up his back, and a moment later, she finds the tension against his spine, and begins to press her fingers into those spots, digs her fingers into muscle and starts working those spots she knows are tight.]
Where I'm from, a doctor might do this for a ruler. Once, or twice a week.
no subject
Well, because usually he likes to fuck first, relax second. That's why. ]
Sounds like fucking luxury.
[ She's never told him where she's from, exactly, despite the numerous times he's pressed her with idle curiosity. Over time, she's told him more and more about the place, but never what or where it is, and it doesn't sound like any place he's ever been. The curiosity has never faded. ]
Maybe I'll take you back there myself one day.
no subject
[She keeps pressing her fingers into his back, knowing that a proper lady here would never do this. Eleanor Guthrie would never do this. A whore might, if she were paid. Daphne learned to do this from one of the doctors at home, before she was a queen, when she was still just a girl. Before she ever shifted.
She finds those sweet pressure points right at the base of his skull and digs her thumbs there.]
It's too far. You would go, and you would have to stay. You wouldn't want to leave Nassau for that long.
no subject
I'm not afraid of a long voyage.
[ The fortress won't be forever. When Eleanor finally comes around to their proper partnership, he'll be able to leave the island in her hands and come back to take his place beside her. He could find himself a new ship and sail across the seas to the distant land that Daphne came from.
His voice comes out guttural, as every limb slowly goes loose and limp. ]
God, that feels fucking good.
no subject
[She rocks her hands into his muscle, moving in silence for a time, up his arms, down his back, using that strength of her hands to break apart the tension. There are places she can tell that he's probably used to being sore, and she works there for a long moment.]
My home is in the base of a jungle, against a series of mountains. It's been independent for centuries, a small kingdom, wedged between the sea a river so wide that one of your ships could navigate it. There are legends about us. They say that the jungle was where the first tigers came from.
[She keeps pressing.]
It is wilder than here. Less civilized. But richer. The jungle is thicker, the ocean is more savage. We kept the English and the Portuguese at bay.
[She almost never talks about India; she almost never talks about this. She misses home.]
The sky is bluer there, I think. Maybe it's always bluer, when you think of home.
no subject
Nassau isn't the only place for wild things.
His eyes have opened. He only realizes it when she moves just enough to let him see her from the corner of his eye. ]
I'd miss it too, if I were you.
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She rocks her fingers into his skin.]
I do miss it. The food, the spices. The way the ocean smelled. My house. Nassau, at least, is better than some cold European shore.
We used to hunt elephants. They’re bigger than a house. Enormous creatures, with tusks, and a long nose they use to eat, and drink. One can smash a man flat. My cousin found a baby elephant once and raised it, and even as a baby it was as large as a horse.
If you took me home, I would show you everything. Where the water of the river runs over with rubies, in the height of the rainy season. Pink and yellow ones. We polish them and sell them to the Mughals, sometimes. The ones we don’t keep.
[She rocks her entire body forward a bit, to put her weight into this.]
Should I stop?
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