Love and War Upon Fraught Waters (AlluringEnigma X Vinaein)

[Vinaein]

The ship swayed upon sapphire waves, azure tongues of the sea lapping at the great hull below, the sun peering down through a cloud to cast silver rays upon the crew as they toiled in the heat. The sea breeze lent some comfort from their work, sun-darkened hands working as they pulled up the sails, directing the keel, the helmsman turning the wheel, flipping the appropriate levers to keep the steam and oil powered engines working at blast, to propel the mighty craft through the waters, while Captain Aidan Coldwine peered out across the water to their prize.

Young for captaincy, even upon a relatively second rate vessel from the nation of Armada, but it had been his boldness and daring that had won him the vote to begin with and the confidence of the Captain's Council. Fair of skin, with dark hair and violet eyes, his lips set in a seemingly perpetual smile, the pirate had an apple clasped in hand, lifting it to his lips to set his teeth into the fruit. He chewed and swallowed delicately, before he took another bite. Some men grew ill from eating too much, but Aidan had long since conditioned himself to be able to enjoy a good meal before combat and even to enjoy it. He finished the fruit, flinging the core back, not even looking at it landed into the ocean, striding forth as his fine boots clapped upon the wood of the deck.

He shouted his orders, though he barely needed to; it just felt good sometimes, to exercise authority when battle was upon them, the on time a pirate captain would have such an inexorable command. He couldn't tell if they trusted him all that much at times...he was formerly of the Delainian Navy, a relative newcomer to the seabound nation of Armada, the great power that had arisen from the ashes of empire...

"Well, you don't often see a ship of that stature in these waters," Aidan muttered, more to himself than the man next to him. The dark-skinned pirate threw him a grin and clapped his shoulder, Aidan returning the gesture with something of a playful smile. "I can't help but think if we take it, it might just ever annoy Admiral Thule a bit," he added, now definitely more to himself. Aidan did so pride himself at remaining ahead of the pirate hunters and their grasping hooks that fired to bury even into metal. Once they took hold of a ship, there was infamously no escape and the poor pirates would be bound to never see Armada again..only the noose would await them

Oh, he'd had a time of it these last few years, hadn't he? And this would show her up as well...he, the Captain of the Shrike, champion of Armada as he styled himself...the Shrike had a crimson hull, painted over the great metal, with several effective engines. It was built for combat, not the finest looker in the fleet, neither the swiftest nor the strongest. But, he thought, feeling his repeating pistol at his side, for the retracting saber at his other.

It was HIS and he meant to prove something to the council of Captains. And to Her as well...

Now they had spotted a prize ahead. The black sails were raised, the colors of the Shrike carrying with them the image of a great skull flanked by a pair of predatory birds. The ship, from what he could tell from this distance, was a large merchant's vessel, likely weighed heavy with cargo and plunder. It was, in fact, massive, a chrome beast upon the water. The colors had caught upon the sunlight, a sparkling reflection that made the pirates too tempted to resist.

If they had the sense to surrender, Aidan would happily relieve them of their burdens, lighten their loads and be on his merry way with not a soul harmed. He preferred it that way, to let the infamy spread and for the disparate, broken kingdoms that remained in the shadows of the Neran Empire to fear Armada all the more, to recognize them as a nation unto themselves.

Not bad for a new command, he thought. He still carried the scars on his back from the old days, preferring by far the freedom of the open seas, the joys of piracy, with dreams and comrades to blaze his trail. "What say it, lads? Do we want to get back to Armada soon with a prize?!"

Aidan Coldwine , dread pirate of the seven seas stared ahead with the black raised, fortune awaiting him. Wind was at their back, surprise was theirs. They would have this. This, he thought...was turning out to be quite the day so far....

And so it was, laden with great plunder and riches, that Aidan would return to Armada to present his tribute to the Pirate captains...amidst the budding nation that now struggled for survival.

 

[AlluringEnigma]

The room stank of cheap liquor and sweat – just the way she liked it. The lights flickered on and off at random, corresponding to the crashing of waves and the tumbling of the ship. Lightning strikes rung through the air like the drums of war, ringing across the metallic confines and shaking the vessel further. The sound of rain hammered against the hull, bullets pounding uselessly against the manmade bulwark. She had served with a captain who had once described the sea as a great and foreboding force that ships merely navigated around. Celina preferred to think of ships as great abominations to nature, defiant vessels that carved a path through the presumptuous forces of nature to domineer the world to their will.

She eventually tired of the sounds and turned her attention back to the poor fucker across from her. “Planning on pulling that finger out yer ass and taking your turn, or ye gonna stare at the cards till they figure out a way to save yer dumbass.”

The man across from her was twice her size and built like an ox – or at the very least required an ox to sustain. Celina was lithe and compact, muscled but lacking heft. Unlike the monstrosity of a man across from her, she bore few scars and no tattoos, and especially unlike him, her auburn mane was both kempt and coiffed. “We both know you don’t have a straight, cunt,” he replied gruffly, his voice booming through the common area, cutting through the commotion of the other tables and the small crowd gather around their little spectacle.

“Then grow a fucking pair and call. I’d love to take more of yer money Jameis, even if it means you’d be spending next shore leave high and dry and far away from yer little whores,” she leaned in and her pale blue irises seemed to intensify in hue and saturation.

Jameis leaned in as well, his nostrils flaring “Then I’d take you, over a barrel, in front of the whole crew,”

In a flash, her hand flew across the table and sent a resounding slap across the common area, a few of the pirates stepping back in shock as her hand sent Jameis’ head reeling. “You’re lucky I don’t have a cock, or I’d skullfuck yer sorry ass Jameis. Now call or fold before I get bored and find someone to do it for me,” she quipped, leaning back casually like she had just made a rather witty offhand observation.

There was a lull in the volume for a second, the immediate area picking up on the tension and their mouths and hands locking up as they waited for some sort of shoe to drop. Jameis didn’t move for a second. The waves seemed to reach a lull and the rain seemed to fade away.

And then all of the color and noise of the world came back into focus with the hearty laughter of Jameis, who threw his cards onto the table. “Damn you, cunt. Take yer fucking money and buy yerself a man who will put up with yer shit.”

She grinned as she saw his cards, queens and aces, before putting her own down, eights and aces. “Don’t worry Jameis, if I want a man to put up with me, I knock ‘im out and take care of the rest,” she chuckled.

Jameis rolled his eyes and slammed his fists on the table, “Damn she-devil, can’t read yer fucking face to save my life.”

Celina Ardford leaned forward and took her winnings, “Cause yer too busy looking at my tits.” She gave him a wink and walked off to her own quarters.

~​

Armada was not an elegant or ornate nation, and it’s capital was no exception. Perhaps the finest parts of the city were the docks – long rows of sodden oak planks painstakingly scrubbed and waxed jutted out into the ocean like tendrils of safety amidst the glittering blue depths of the abyss. Rows of warships, merchant vessels, rowboats, and any other conceivable naval design under the sun inhabited the docks, a cornucopia of sails and engines bristling above the skyline of the island nation’s premier city. Off the docks themselves were layers of merchant stands, offering provisions, women, and other creature comforts that were lacking or non-existent in the confines of an enlisted sea voyage. Even from a mile out, the shouting and bickering of haggling, promulgating middlemen could be heard like the distant buzz of a small insect.

As the crew began docking procedures, Celina stepped off the vessel with a briskness and determinedness that belied the concept of shore leave. After all, she had work to accomplish. Her captain had left The Intrepid on one of the vessels boarding skiffs early, called away by a signal requesting his immediate presence with the Council of Captains. It wasn’t unusual – after all Captain Drakip was captain of the Armada’s flagship and while the Council was the supreme power of the Armada, he was at the helm of the fist that enacted their wishes.

She had been left aboard as first mate to ensure the smooth docking of the Armada’s crown jewel, and having accomplished as much, Celina now rushed to see if her presence was needed.

The council building was as unruly and chaotic as the streets of the capital. Ledges and windows were erratically and haphazardly strewn across the palatial structure, seemingly added on the whim of its architects. A massive flag flew defiantly atop the whole affair, and honestly seemed to be the most well-thought-out and designed part of the structure. The material shimmered and rippled in the breeze, the flag itself enchanting as it danced to the whims of the wind.

Outside, she saw tow figures. The first was a welcome sight – her captain in all his glory, ragged and rugged and ripped clothing flapping in the wind, sword and pistol at his side, a somewhat ridiculous admiral’s hat perched jauntily on his head. Next to him – a not-so-welcome-sight, Aidan Coldwine, the cockiest piece of shit this side of the island. What the fuck was he doing here?

Celina approached Captain Drakip and nodded her head respectfully. “What’s this piece of shit doing in front of his betters?” she asked, as if Aidan weren’t even there.

There was a bitterness in Drakip’s eyes as he spoke, though only a hint, certainly nothing anyone who only tangentially knew him would pick up on, “Captain Coldwine has managed to secure himself a fat prize, and a promotion. He’ll be joining The Intrepid’s fleet under my command effective today.”

She couldn’t believe her ears.

 

[Vinaein]

Armada. There was a name that meant so much to the Freedmen of the sea. It stood for freedom. It stood for liberty. It stood for beauty. It meant all those things to Aidan Coldwine. All that and more, he reminded himself as he tilted his head back to see the sea-sodden wood of the docks. There was a collection of ships moored at the docks, a combination of metal and wood with hard men lining up to unload great crates of cargo.

Within them were treasures of the seas; not merely gold or jewels, but casks of spices and minerals. Armada was not a nation rich in natural resources, forcing the inhabitants to continue piracy as much a matter of survival as it was a way of life. Aidan would not have had it any other way. As they drew to the decks, the crew gave a bellowing cheer of arrival, Aidan flashing his grin as Sam Fetterman, their lookout, adjusted the scope around his eye to zoom in upon the docks. "Nothing we need to worry about, Captain Aidan!" he shouted out.

Aidan's laugh was friendly. As his feet found the docks, Luke was giving a light grin, his shoulders squared back while he walked, his head held high as he commanded the crew's attention "Every man and woman on this vessel should take a rest! Have some fun, don't do anything I wouldn't!" He called out, hearing merry laughter, approving cheers and claps. They'd be off to drink, to have some fun, to trade...he would have the cargo appraised and sold off, the grin remaining on his face as he stepped down, humming to himself as he arrived upon the docks. "Thinking you might run into her, Captain?" He heard the teasing voice of the first mate, glancing at the dark-skinned man before him. "Some of the rival crews might even say the port's spoken for with all this going on...rumors are Dantania's been belligerent. Seizing a few ships'll only inflame them more, you know, Aidan."

Aidan let not a hint of unease show upon his face. He shook his head. "Port's spoken for, Kylan? What a shame, I don't quite see a name or flag planted around the dogs. Way I figure it, any member of the brotherhood can claim sanctum here, true or false? It's not like we've anything to lose here..."

And everything to gain, he added as the sun cast its reflection down upon the waters; a fiery disc that lit Armada's shores with a new fire. The sounds of the sea were replaced by the tumult of the docks, the haggling and the chaos of deals and arguments. Women and men stood near the docks in revealing clothing to ply their trades to returning sailors before they could make their own ways to the taverns.

"Goddamned if I don't wish to see Drakip soon..." Aidan muttered. He had pushed for this, sent word ahead. One great haul and he would rise higher in the estimation and eyes of the great Captains' Council; storied pirates, who had once been storied soldiers. Men and women who commanded the loyalty and respect of Armada, the men and women who (Aidan had to face it), were Armada.

The people of Armada were its life's blood. The Captain's Councils were its working brain and beating heart. There was Bellamy Russell, the bold Gentleman Thief of the seas. There was Drakip, the great fist of Armada who commanded the mightiest flagship in all the waters. There was Zamira Rakatha, beautiful and bold who was the chief strategist of the nation, Morak Hardin, with the soul of a banker who was in charge of the nation's commerce...

Keeping in their good graces was not only good for one's advancement. It was the key to a long life in this nation. When empires fell, carnivorous fish swam to pick the bones of the leviathan clean; so too was the situation they found themselves in. Oh, he would be one of the fish to come away sated and see Armada prosper. Aidan promised that to himself and he prided himself on never sundering his word.

To join the fleet after this would be just what he needed. It would fit him neatly into the tapestry of Armada, to rise from second-rate to someone to be feared. He was known, but never to the extent others were. Some might have preferred ignominy to infamy with the fates that awaited the pirates in this day and age. He had seen too many locked upon electric nooses, to dance as volts filled their bodies...

So Aidan waited at the docks, scanning for a messenger. He did not have to wait long, presenting him with six blessed words:

"Captain Drakip wants to see you."

----

The day passed beautifully after negotiations. Aidan was walking down the docks, trying not to stare at the silly hat upon the Captain's head. It was known that Drakip styled himself more admiral than captain here (and in any other nation, that would be correct), but to take the title might promote conflict which might promote a knife in the back.

And everything had gone better than Aidan could have hoped for. His name had been made. The offer had followed. A chance for the Shrike, for the crew, for him...His head was held high, his blue and golden coat draped about his shoulders. Nothing could have ruined his day. Or so he thought, until he saw...

The fiery mane of untamed curls, the lithe, battle-trained body. Celina Ardford was exactly as he remembered, brusque fire that'd have a helping of ale poured over it. "THIS peace of shit is happy to accept the commission," Aidan said with a playful grin that flashed white teeth. "Been a shark's age, hasn't it, Arford?" He asked her as he folded his arms, not caring for the moment how it would've looked to Drakip. "We got quite the merchant vessel, haul of minerals, spice and medicine all across Armada. Mayhaps you've heard?" Oh, this was more than playing with fire, this was thrusting his hand into the inferno.

But they had a history, he and this dangerous woman before him. "Looking forward to working with you, I must say, Celina. I hear the hunting's good in Orisian waters this time of year. Would even let you have the first pick of targets if you're interested."

If Drakip smacked him down, verbally or physically for this?

It was fucking worth it.

 

[AlluringEnigma]

Pale eyes did not lend themselves to anger, and neither did a form fitting of a noble heiress as much as that of a pirate. Yet an inferno raged just behind her gaze, one that seemed barely under control. Indeed it was a tempest kept under the slightest lock and key, but kept nonetheless, and it was that volatile yet controlled temperament that had managed to give her both the aggression to succeed as a ruthless pirate and the temperament to thrive under the orders of lesser men. Despite all that, there remained an uncontrollable urge within her to make the smug upstart in front of her regret his very birth. Celina hid it better than might be expected but the subtle signs were still there: the slight twitching of her painted upper lip, the grinding of her thumb upon her left forefinger, and the slightest gritting of her teeth. Aidan had been an annoyance for a long time – now he was an enemy, and she didn't tolerate those.

"Aye I'd heard you'd manage to capture yerself a prize. I had wondered if it was a practical joke or if perhaps, you'd convinced some merchant with deep pockets and a small 'ead to take pity on yer pathetic vessel and allow it a prize. Either way, dinnae know why you'd think I'd want first pick. After all, with you in the fleet, we'd have no choice but to take down the war ships while you and yer crew set your sights on the tugboats and merchant ships, eh?" Every word was as cutting as the last, their edges as sharp as the blade at her hip. "Don't ye worry yer head Aidan, the real pirates will take care of the cannons so ye can continue to look nice and purty like a figurehead afront yer ship."

She crossed her arms and spat on the floor, her hips leaning to the left side as she stared him down. She had no intention of breaking his gaze for even an instant. If you ignored the daggers shooting out of her eyes, it could be mistaken for the intense gaze of a lover.

Drakip rolled his eyes. "Alright put your pricks away. Celina you're still my first mate and he's now a captain under my command which means he's under yours as well after mine. You'll treat him as such and I won't hear another word." He didn't wait before turning to Aidan, the boom of his voice still echoing through the halls. "And Aidan, she's my left hand, my eyes and ears and mouth, and an extension of myself. If she tells you to jump, you fucking jump, yea? You two either get along or I'll send both of you to the nearest brig and have yer backs tanned red with whips, aye?"

Celina finally broke her stare and turned to face Drakip, "Aye sir, not another peep from me end."

After receiving Aidan's own confirmation, Drakip continued onwards. "Right, well we'll see as much shortly. Get your crews reared and ready, we sail at four bells for a merchant convoy. Heavily escorted but also heavily laden with loot if my sources are to be relied on. Aidan as the most junior member you'll be sailing alongside the flagship so I can keep my eye on you and your crew. Celina get the crew ready. I want double our usual amount of grapeshot and an extra round of chain shot, understood?"

Celina nodded "Aye cap'n, I'll see you aboard." She turned and left with Aidan at her side as they exited, leaving Drakip to himself. As soon as they exited from his sight, she sprung into action and slammed him into the wall with a strength and agility that belied her figure. Her left hand wrapped tightly around his neck as she looked up at him "Alright lad, let's be clear. One errant step, one hesitated 'aye sir', one single fucking blink in the wrong direction and I dinnae care if I have to kill each one of yer men m'self, I will end yer fucking existence. Got that pretty boy?" she asked with a sneer, her grip tightening on his neck to emphasize her point.

 

[Vinaein]

Armada was not a land of ease. To survive there, to truly thrive in the cutthroat land of piracy, one needed to be strong. One needed to be hard. One even needed to be vicious. And one had to, most astutely and importantly, take absolutely no shit from anyone else. Aidan Coldwine had a reputation for well, truly and positively taking absolutely no shit from anyone. Least of all Celina, with her red hair and pale eyes and the way she carried herself. More like a swaggering queen than a pirate, not even a captain herself. Oh, there was history. There was tension thick enough to block the swing of a cutlass. His men remained all about him, but Aidan's eyes wandered, lingering against the beautiful face of the pirate before them. The way her lip trembled, the way her fists clenched...

But with Drakip right there, he needed to be what was colloquially known as a 'good boy.' He did not suffer fools, but Celina was no fool. She was an irritant and a foe, to say the very, very least....and throwing out what amounted to a challenge in that smooth accent of hers. "The only 'pity' taken is us from the prize, Celina.." He said with a grin. "The real pirates were out on the front lines, getting things done. I couldn't help but notice I didn't see you out there, Celina." He was risking a bit in front of Drakip now, his eyes lingering close to hers, those pale and calculating little orbs that bore into his own...Oh, how he missed these jibes, they little motes of fire between them, dancing embers of anger and aggression.

"You sit atop a ship of glass, hurling stones, Celina. I'd be wounded if you were capable of wielding your wit or a blade with such finesse." It didnt even seem to bother him. In fact, he was enjoying the banter. But in front of Drakip...generally it was best to avoid pissing off one of the leads of Armada by insulting their favorites. But it would be even worst to back down.

He had the favor of Zamira and Bellamy. That, at least, was something. "Point me in direction of a nation's warship. The Shrike is more than capable of dealing with those. There's no faster ship on the waters, Celina." His grin was arrogant, cocksure, but playful, his lip curled back as he thought of ways that he might humiliate Celina in turn...

The intensity he gave to her could have been love or hatred, so often did those two emotions grow entwined together. He simply nodded his respect to Drakip. "You have a thousand pardons, Captain Drakip. I hope one is sufficient." He added. Armada politics were dysfunctional at the best of times. "We won't be bickering more than is acceptable, Captain. No more." He didn't think 'she started it' would be very conducive to winning over Drakip. And then...

He paused at that, grinning at the opportunity. "We'll be ready, Captain." He said it with a vow and a salute. The Captain's Council could be difficult. But every so often you wound up with good opportunities. "I'll take my spot in the armada, Captain."

He hadn't expected Celina to explode as she did and it briefly shocked him when she reacted, smashing him into the wall, hissing fury into his ear. He looked at her, his eyes locking upon her. God, he couldn't tell if he loved or hated her....he watched her, expressionless...

Before swift as a striking sea snake, he seized her hand, yanked it back, whirled to pin her against the wall with his body crushed against her own. He pinned her there, seizing her hands, with his face close to hers as he grinned ruefully, dangerously. His eyes danced as he whispered in the proximity between them:

"I heard you. But we'll blink how we wish. And fight how we wished. If you have a problem with that, speak up, Celina...because I take trash from no man. Or woman..." He leaned in to whisper into her ear. "You really should take that chip off your shoulder..." he shoved her back into the wall slightly. "It would do you some good," he said, adding out:

"Not so tough now without Drakip, eh? Let this be a lesson not to try to scale mountains that are too high...but I'll take an apology..." he kept her pinned to the wall. "And we can certainly work together just fine, can't we? For the sake of Armada...?"