Captain El - The Past

“She’s firing!” The cry went up as a boom of sound echoed across the sea and there was several cracks, along with screams as timber splintered under the canon fire and two men were destroyed by flying bits of wood. “Fuck…” El said through gritted teeth, the sound lost in the tumult, not quite flinching at the cannon blast as she brought the ship hard to starboard. They just had to get close enough to board the bastard ship and then they'd see. She growled. Every time. Every bloody time the Captains ploy was to ride the wind full tilt at the enemy ship, and every bloody time they lost men and every bloody time they spent most of their ill-gotten gains on repairs. Hard headed idiot. Another flash. Another whoosh of sound, felt more than heard, as the cannons ripped through the side of their ship. “Brace for impact!” She yelled above the tumult, spinning the wheel to turn the ship to run alongside the golden Orlesian monstrosity of a ship, the sound of hull grinding against hull as they connected, the impact swaying everybody on deck. “On the rails!” The Captain yelled, his strides taking him past El at the wheel, he grinned to her in passing but she scowled back. She knew that he knew she hated this, it was reckless, it was stupid and it was a last ditch effort that failed almost as much as it worked but damn he looked fine. When he wore that smile, when he could taste blood in the air and his shoulders rolled in anticipation, it did things to her and that made her scowl even deeper as she watched him. He laughed as he walked away, he was scarred and swarthy, years of the pirate life on the seas had not been kind to Captain Robért Du Masque. He was a dark skinned rogue from the grand city of Orlais, while in contrast El was a pale skinned nobleman's daughter from Denerim city. She had been on his crew for 6 years now, two of those years trying to pass as a young lad. That had been a hard year and no mistake, she had wanted to escape her crime and she had been sent straight to hell without dying when she boarded his ship all those years ago.

When she first boarded she had been at the bottom of the shit heap onboard and all that shit rolled downhill. Her ruse, that had worked so well for so long, had been discovered when the cook had beat her so badly he nearly stripped the skin off her back. While she lay dying, or what felt like it, the crew had discovered a young woman hiding in their midst. It had been Robért who had taken her to his cabin, had her tended and cared for her, never being inappropriate or crossing that boundary until, after weeks of tentative time together, he had finally gained her trust and she had made the first move. Life on the sea was hard enough but Robért had had patience and time for everyone, even her, even before they all had realised she hadn't truly been one of them. Her hair had grown back now, she’d cut it all off as part of her ruse, now it was all copper and black, long and curled down her back except for in battle of course, when it was braided to her head. She rolled her eyes at her captain and tied off the wheel before joining the mostly silent crew at the rails. She crouched down and Cain, one of the least liked members of the crew grinned broken teeth at her “Bet I get more kills than you, cunt” She bared her teeth back at him, less of a grin and more of a snarl “if you’re killing is anything like your fucking then you won’t last long enough to so I've heard" The crew within earshot all sniggered while Cain frowned. He hadn’t liked her from the start, even less so now. She’d hoped he would be killed in battle but the man was as resilient as a rat. He looked around at his shipmates then back at her, she smirked at him and she saw the anger flare in his eyes “watch your back...Captain’d hate to lose his whore." he hissed.  El just smirked and turned her head away but her heart quailed. She saw her death in his face and one of these days she knew Cain would take his shot at her and she had better keep a close eye on the fucker. Pulling the rapier and dagger from the sheaths at her belt, she waited on the rallying charge. The crew of the Orlesian ship were firing muskets and crossbows at the them, yelling orders until a bump brought the ships closer. “Rappels!” Robért yelled and six of the men stood along the lines of waiting pirates, whirling the ropes they had flung over the rail to hook onto the opposite ship. Thudding into the ships rail, the deck, some of them hitting and hooking into those who stood on the firing at them, the ropes were pulled tight again before three more men stood, lighting the smoke bombs in their hands and launching them up and over to explode on the deck.

The captain stood with sword held up “BOARD!” he roared and the crew screamed in a blood thirsty scream as they leapt up and began their assault. Some jumped to the other ship, while those hidden in the rigging swung over onto the enemies deck. El leapt up and scampered across to the other ship, leaping off the rail and onto the nearest enemy, using him to break her fall as her sword and dagger flashed forward, sinking into his chest and carrying them both back to land on the deck. She used the momentum to roll off him and back onto her feet, spinning. She swung her sword and opened the chest of another, her dagger flashing up to block his strike as she thrust her sword through him. He fell but not before she tried to turn and felt a boot on her hip staggering her into someone else. She felt a searing pain across her ribs and spun to the source, the man she had staggered into had thrust his dagger into her. Screaming her rage, she plunged the dagger into his eye, the man who bled her cried out and ripped the dagger from her grip as he staggered back and falling limp to the deck. El hissed in pain as she put her bloody free hand to the pain at her ribs, her hand coming away in more blood. Her own blood. “Fuck…” she said quietly before rejoining the fray. She took one last glance around and licked her lips, the burning in her side carrying her forward. 

She killed more men, took more than a few cuts and knocks and she was covered in their blood more than her own though. She licked the salty taste of it off her lips and grinned, her teeth stained pink, her pain forgotten as her sword swung and men fell under it. Yo ho this was the life for her. The fighting was bloody and vicious, well it always was with them. They left no survivors and burnt the ship to ash, they used to leave a survivor to tell the tale but they hadn’t needed to do that these last few years, their reputation spread far and wide before them and it spread just the right amount of horror and fear.

Once the fighting was done with the deck awash with blood, the crew of the Masked Mistress roared their approval. It seems they had this down to a fine art. Surprisingly they hadn’t lost a single man to the fighting this time, but then most Orlesian sailors couldn’t fight their way out of a chantry. Except her own Captain which he found an amusing irony, he was the only Orlesian to fight as viciously as any pirate which is why he become one, he said. Sometime later El stood on the bow of the enemies ship as the crew cleared up, her brows creased in pain and lost in thought, that tiredness only fighting can give you. Until the Captain pulled her round and kissed her soundly, she let out a gasp of pain against his lips and he let go, his face a mask of concern “you are hurt, ma renarde?” She huffed a laugh through her nose, his Renarde, his vixen. “Im fine, I just got a slash across the ribs” she waved a hand at her ragged corset, the whale bones inside exposed and he frowned “That’s because, ma renarde, it is not armour, I have told you several times it is not armour...” he said as he wrapped his arm around her none-injured side and nuzzled her neck “perhaps I should kiss it better..” and he nipped once at her neck She made a noise, somewhere between a laugh and groan “we are still on the wrong ship and I’m covered in blood” He growled “Blood of our foes tastes like nectar on your skin, ma renarde” and his Orlesian accent rolling his r’s as he nuzzled along her skin and El shivered. This is why she stayed. Him. This. Obviously the treasure was a bonus but the blood, the pain, the glory. This was her choice. This was her life and she could not, would not, want any other. She smiled up at him, her love, her captain. “Take me home…” she whispered and kissed the blood off his lips.