Blood and Trust [Muze/Fehl]

[Zen]

Nalyra

It had been several weeks since they’d taken the Bright Wing. There’d been no incidents on her ship at least with the ship’s former crewmembers and she was starting to allow them some small ways to continuously prove they were worthy of trust. While initially they were allowed weapons only while supervised so they could practice fighting, at this point she had allowed them to keep their blades, if they wished. It was always a bit of a risk, that someone might just be biding their time, and it seemed that was the case this time.

It couldn’t have been a sevenday since she’d allowed them their weapons when suddenly a man was dragged up from below deck. Standing at the helm, her grip tightened on the wheel briefly and her jaw clenched as it was easy to pick out that he was one of their new recruits. “Krillish,” she snapped, and the man stepped up to take her place. She descended the steps to the main deck as the two men dragging the third pulled him to his feet to face her.

“Fool attacked Talone, captain. Griggik’s tendin’im, but… it’s a deep wound. He needs the healer.”

Nalyra tensed as she glanced backward out of reflex. How far behind was the Sea Dragon? “Umbregel, send that flit to Karosh!” Her eyes sought the older man and spotted him already shuffling off to find something he could use to send a note. She turned back and reached out to grab the man’s face in her hand, “Just what did you think you were going to accomplish?”

He jerked his head away from her and spat, “T’take as many o’you with me as I could! How d’you live with yourselves? Tunnelsnakes! Threadspawn!”

She had her knife at his throat before he could spew any further insults, “Well at least we will live, unlike you.”

The man managed a half satisfied smirk, though it wasn’t difficult to see the flash of fear in his eyes either, “At least one o’you won’t.”

She nearly slit his throat then, but that would be too easy a death and she stayed her hand, pulled it back and away from him before she gave into the temptation. If Talone didn’t make it then she would make sure his killer suffered for just as long. Or at least that was her initial plan, until a cursory glance around the deck had her gaze settling briefly on Fehloax, and a new idea formed. This man was his former crewmate. He represented his former life, his past. If Fehloax wanted to have a future, it would only be with her and her crew. She was also eager to give him a way to expedite earning her trust. This could be just the thing. “Fehloax!” she called out, lifting a hand to wiggle a finger for him to come over. It would still be giving the man a far easier death than she’d like to, but she was willing to make that sacrifice to give Fehloax a chance to prove himself. Oh but she really hoped he took the chance… it would be so disappointing if he didn’t.

tovaana

[tovaana]

Fehloax;

Good little prisoners, now that you’ve bowed to our power – we’ll start to see if we can actually trust you. His mind spoke in heavy sarcasm, thinking just how backward the pirates were in all the cases that he had found so far. At the same time, he found himself starting to desire to be part of it all. As patient as Fehl was, he wished the pirates would just trust him completely, he felt like he could more easily identify as one of them if they’d only see him as one of them. But at that thought, he remembered the weight on the end of his sword and the first time he’d been the one to end a man’s life. How numb they must be – to stick a sword in and out of someone without feeling that weight… would he become that numb? The rest of his life felt numb and empty, so perhaps it would, and perhaps it would be better that way.

When offered a sword to keep recently, he recognized the blade that he’d used that fateful day. He’d not wanted it, but at the same time – he didn’t want to be ashamed of it – so he chose it. It had been a simpler blade, but he’d decided to keep it. There was an obvious divide in the previous crew, a handful of people that were not handling the change well – and it created a social divide with those were learning to just go with the flow. Of course the ones who had decided to just accept their fate looked to Fehl for whatever odd reason. Did they see him take everything in stride – mistaking his indifference with bravery? An unfeeling man was not brave, but no one had to know what he looked like on the insides, only the outside.

He was jerked mentally from his current cleaning job, eyes watching as a man was dragged up on deck, murmurs and whispers and shouts of what had happened coming to him quickly and causing his stomach to drop. The fool. He’d die now, he knew it even before they got to Nalyra, and he knew it because she had said it. So far, she had been a woman of her word.

Abandoning his cleaning supplies he wiped his hands on his pants, gathering as everyone else on deck did, to watch. Part of him didn’t want to watch – this man, as bitter and foolish as he was, was a man he had spent a lot of time with back when they had been simple traders. His inner moral strength was now going to be his fall and Fehl knew there was nothing he could do for the man, not anymore.

Even in battle he hadn’t seen Nalyra so bitter and fiery and he felt a little thrill at the power behind the woman. It was different, following a woman’s orders than a man’s. It was a lot more satisfactory making her happy, even if it wasn’t in bed, at least not yet.

While he couldn’t help this man who was going to be condemned to death, he almost turned away when the man had mockingly and openly taunted Nalyra with the possible death of her crewmate. He didn’t know much about healing, but if he could be useful, it was going to be below deck rather than above. But just as he had decided this, his name in her voice stopped him before he could turn. Him? What did she want him for? He couldn’t imagine what she’d need him for with the traitor. His legs moved for him, his mind racing, avoiding any thought that she might use him as part of this man’s punishment. She couldn’t possibly think he had anything to do with the incident, could she?

“Yes Capt’n?” He said calmly, eyes flicking toward the man, but avoided his eyes – instead switching to meet Nalyra’s gaze.

Zen

[Zen]

Nalyra

There was curiosity from several of the men watching as she had called on Fehloax, but she had no need to explain, they’d understand soon enough. When the man stopped before her, he was as annoyingly calm as ever. She really hated how hard he was to read. She was sharding good at reading people and Fehloax was too sharding stoic for her to get a good handle on. Which was a big reason she found it so hard to trust him, even after she’d heard of the man he’d managed to kill during one of their boardings. It was a good sign, that he seemed willing to do what was necessary after all, but his motives were still a mystery, and whether he was capable of loyalty remained to be seen.

The incident that had just occurred had left her in a foul enough mood that when she looked up at Fehl, it only served to irk her more. She hated having to look up at men constantly due to her small stature. She spun the knife in her hand to hold it by the blade instead, then held it out for Fehloax expectantly, “This traitor has just attacked one of your shipmates. Protect this crew, your crew, and put an end to this threat.”

“Murderer!” the ‘threat’ in question spat, not at her, but at Fehloax. She wasn’t the only one that had heard of his first kill. She was half surprised the man hadn’t tried to beg with Fehl, bring up their shared past in some dig for sympathy. Not that it would have mattered even if it worked and caused Fehloax to back down. This traitor would die either way. Well, he could ride his moral high ground all the way to his grave.

Just in case her expectation was not clear enough, Nalyra got to the point, a growl edging her voice, “Slit his throat before I have to hear another word from his worthless mouth.” If Fehl didn’t take this chance, the man’s tongue would be the first thing she cut out. She might have been able to pressure him further into doing it if she told him just what she planned to do if he backed down. He may have killed a man already, but that was a stranger in the heat of battle. This was different. Fehloax could give this man a far more merciful death than she planned to give him. But she didn’t want to pressure him further.

She wanted him to make the choice and she wanted him to know it was his choice, though her displeasure at the chance of his refusal was plain, “The choice is yours, Fehloax. If you don’t have the stomach for it then just go back to your work.” She wouldn’t punish him, but neither would he reap any reward. Some men just didn’t have it in them and she really had no desire to push any of her crew to do anything that wasn’t strictly necessary, if they weren’t comfortable with it. It wasn’t necessary for Fehloax to kill this man - she could do it just fine on her own and would take great enjoyment in it - but if he wanted to impress her, the knife was there for him to take. It was an opportunity, not an order, and one he could very well let pass him by if he proved too weak to take it.

tovaana

[tovaana]

Fehloax;

He looked down at the blade offered to him and listened to her words, feeling surprise bubble up through him, along with discomfort. Before he could think to even grab the blade, he felt the spray of the accusation, but he didn’t turn to look at him – letting the few miniscule droplets dry instead of wiping them off. His left hand at his side started to toy with the ring idly on his thumb. It was a little too big, but he planned to have it resized at some point. He knew it was not logical to collect something from every death, but since he wasn’t sure anyone else had been able to honor the dead man, with wearing the ring he felt like it was his small in doing so - and it had been something to think on... not that he wanted to collect lives like he did trinkets, but that his new life would require death when 'necessary'. The first man that had fallen at his hand had been only defending himself, and unluckily for the man – Fehloax had been defending one of his newer crewmates. The word that he had spit stirred some of these thoughts and worries, but it was his new life now… he had come to accept it, and this man had not… and now he was going to die. Who was really the fool?

When Nalyra ordered him to just do it, he took the proffered dagger and held it, turning to the man… his name, what was it, who was he?… with hate twisting the man’s features it was harder to recognize Froskel – ah, yes, that was his name. A memory of his companions poking Froskel to be more frisky with the girls came to mind, and his eyes flicked down to the dagger in his hand, held low as he prepared himself mentally for what he was about to do. The man had stabbed another man; it would’ve been nice to see the man – to see if he was actually going to die. A death for a death would make sense and would ease his conscious more than just a traitorous man. But there was more here than just justice, it was to prove his loyalty, killing someone he had spent time with, even if he could count the times he had interacted with this man on one hand.

A choice? He wanted to laugh, but only a ghost of a smile tugged hopelessly at the corner of his mouth, since his amusement died in the face of task at hand. Perhaps she was being honest that he had a choice, but he knew what it would look like to her, her crew, and his former crew, if he did and didn’t do this thing. If he did, his former crew would see this as it was – a death, but also the death of a former life, no longer just a sea trader, but a pirate. His new crew would see it the same way, but less grimly – and none would hate him for it, but possibly trust him more. Nalyra? He assumed it was the same, he assumed she thought this was doing him a favor, to give him a chance to leap into the confidence of his new life. Fehloax saw it as an opportunity and didn’t care much what this dead man or anyone else thought, at least not in how he thought of himself. He did care what they saw him do, since it would make up their opinion of him, and he didn’t care to be thought of as a coward, even if he knew he wasn’t one.

The decision made in his mind, his hand rose and he stepped forward to materialize the thought. He didn’t look away from the man’s face, though later he wished he had. Compared to the first death, there was no resistance as he sliced through the man’s throat. Nalyra must have kept the dagger sharpened well. It was almost more unnerving at how fast it had happened, and how much more blood there was too. He winced, blood sprayed from the movement of the blade and how close he had been to the man. Still, he didn’t move to wipe it, just as he hadn’t wiped his spit, it seemed like a fitting end for the man… Honorable? As much as it could be for one who had potentially killed another. He looked away from the man, feeling suddenly nauseous – his face pale and grim. The death of his old life, and birth of the new. He looked down at the bloodied knife and was about to hand it back, when he realized that he’d have to touch the blood with his fingers if he wanted to do a proper exchange. He wiped it carefully on a towel that he had had on his belt for the job he had been doing before the commotion had taken place. He wiped it slow and methodical, making sure there was no trace of blood when he offered the hilt back to the woman, Fehloax holding the blade lightly with his rag that had torn in one place from his cleaning. His clear eyes met her brown ones. “There you go, Capt’n.” His voice was quiet as usual, but more subdued, trying not to hear or think about the man that was bleeding to death. “Is that all, Capt’n?” He managed a small twitch of one side of his mouth, thinking he definitely wouldn’t mind a certain other task if she asked…but it was hard to even think about that with his former life dead nearby.

[Zen]

Nalyra

She watched his face carefully. He was always so stoic… Nalyra wanted to see something on his face other than that teasing little smile he had that had long since evolved from frustrating to maddening since he had joined them. Men sure liked to pretend they were emotionless, or had control of their emotions, but that was a lie they told themselves. In Nalyra’s experience they were just as, if not more emotional than women. Her mother and father came to mind. But Fehloax was too sharding calm, in the face of anything it seemed.

He looked at the blade for a long moment and she was starting to think he wasn’t going to take it, but then he did. Still there was nothing readable on his face. This sharding man. When he turned toward the traitor, her gaze shifted to the soon to be dead man to watch that flicker of fear over his face as he realized his last moments were truly upon him, but even through the fear there was an anger, and Nalyra was at least impressed he didn’t try to uselessly beg for his life. His resolve might have been admirable, if it wasn’t tied to one of her crewmates dying below deck.

Looking back to Fehloax, she thought she saw the hint of a smile pull at his mouth but could hardly be certain, and that left her with too many questions. Shells but he really was maddeningly beyond her comprehension. And then in the span of two breaths, he’d stepped forward and done as she’d asked. The slightest thrill went through her, as she hadn’t really expected him to go through with it. And finally there was a hint of something else on Fehloax’s face as he looked away from what he’d just done. Did he regret it? Or was it just that he couldn’t handle the sight of quite so much blood? She just didn’t know enough about how his mind worked to say what he might be thinking or feeling.

He had done it, that was all that really mattered. As he cleaned off the blade she’d given him, she turned to the two men still supporting the dying weight of the traitor and jerked her head toward the side of the ship. It didn’t really need to be said, and the two dragged the body over to toss into the sea, the crowd that had gathered on the deck beginning to disperse now that the commotion was over, returning to the tasks that still awaited them. Fehloax’s quiet voice drew her attention back and she offered him a teasing smile, “Such a gentleman… saving me the trouble of cleaning traitorous blood from my blade.”

She took the offered hilt and slid it back into the sheath at her belt, considering his question as she glanced past him to where the traitor’s body was being heaved over the side of the ship. Was that all? Hardly, but now wasn’t the time for further conversation or anything else for that matter. She turned back to him, stepping in closer as she reached up to brush her fingers along his jaw in a brief, light touch. “For now,” a suggestive smile pulled at her lips, “Though I may find more use for you later.” It was normally rather difficult to ignore the temptation of him, but with a man dying below it wasn’t so hard to step away from him again rather than linger.

She needed to see Talone, to assess his wound. There was every possibility she would find herself for the first time having to grant a friend mercy. As captain, that most unpleasant duty fell to her. She could always order someone else to do it, but she wouldn’t. She could do what needed to be done. She had seen Treyjen do it several times and if he could do it, she certainly could. She started to move away but paused, glancing back and down at the small puddle of blood at Fehloax’s feet, the trail that led to the deck wall, waving her hand at it dismissively, “Oh, and make sure someone cleans up that mess.”

tovaana

[tovaana]

Fehloax;

Fehloax’s smile tugged a little more to life at her teasing remark about the blade, but inside felt a moment of panic, thinking of the blood that he hadn’t wanted to touch. If he thought too much about blood that had once been puppeting a live person or the anticipation of the splash of the body that would get swallowed by the ocean, he knew the panic would show on his face. He was glad she looked past him, toward the body getting tossed overboard; it allowed him a brief moment to collect the various feelings that kept pushing his thick barriers. It didn’t matter how little he thought of people in general, he’d never thought anyone deserved death…unless perhaps he had killed someone else. But, who was the original guilty party? The pirates, or Froskel? and even though there were reasons to now defend himself or others, he felt that the pirates had brought it on themselves. There was a part of him that wondered if this was going to be the rest of his life – and was he okay with that? Would there be opportunity to flee if they reached a major port? Piracy was not an honorable means to make a living.

She took a step toward him, but it wasn’t until her fingers touched him lightly that had his body came alive with desire. He swallowed at her suggestive tone, a small smirk in response, watching her as she moved away – realizing he had completely forgotten his previous thoughts until she asked to make sure someone cleaned up ‘that’ mess. He watched her leave to go attend the wounded shipmate, wondering more about this woman who had been elected Captain. Fehloax had been enjoying their teasing and suggestive remarks, though he still wasn’t sure it was smart to find a way into the Captain’s bed. Would that create a rift between him and his new crew, or was she like this to all her crew members? She the Queen and the others her suitors? He obviously didn’t know her well enough to know, but liked the idea of not worrying too much about how it would affect his standing with the rest of the crew, and more importantly, how it would change his standing with the Captain.

His mind was torn between wanting to follow Nalyra and then looking at the blood that covered the floor where the man had died… no, where he had killed him… and the trail of the dragged body where he was hauled unceremoniously overboard. It wasn’t like the dead man was drowning, he was already dead. Drowning had been a fear he had had when he had first spent so much time on the trading boat as a teenage boy, but he had spent time swimming in the ocean to understand it and overcome that fear, and come to accept whatever would happen to him – he only had so much control over that, he was seeing this was more true with every day, like having pirates take over one’s home. All one could do was accept and work around what was given in life.

Part of him wanted to make someone else clean the blood, since he figured him actually doing the killing had been the ‘dirty’ work. The other part of him, thought he couldn’t be scared off of something like blood, not if he was going to be around it as a pirate. He couldn’t let it become a weakness in his new life, but he also didn’t want his new life to take away what humanity he had left. He didn’t want to be able to kill like they did, life was life, as useless as most of it was. If anything, that man had gotten his consequences for his actions, Fehl could at least clean it up. Besides, he didn’t like the way the red marred his home. He met eyes with a couple others that had stepped in to help him clean up the mess, no words exchanged as they cleaned the mess. Fehloax wasn’t sure if there was respect or fear, maybe a little of both from the old crew members. He didn’t dwell on what they were thinking, focusing on getting the blood from the crevices of the wood. Luckily he and some of the others had made sure the ship was in good shape, so the floor resisted the color that could have potentially stained the wood if it had been unoiled.

As he sopped up the liquid, cleaning and scrubbing - he wondered at his new identity. Pirate. Murderer. He remembered that word spat by Froskel before he had died. Even if he wanted to run away from his current situation, it would not change what he had already done. Murderer. No, a pirate. His jaw clenched and he nodded to himself. Yes, he could accept that fate, he could be a pirate, but he pushed the other word from his consciousness, though he wasn't sure if he could get the man's twisted face and word from his mind completely. He focused on the other word, he focused at the task at hand, and let his imagination wander as he thought about the Captain, thinking of what other tasks he could be set to do for her.