Rosalind|| A Pirates of the Caribbean fanfic

Chapter 53: Monster

"HANG ON! NO, NO, NO, HOLD YOUR HORSES, CAPTAIN RICCI. I ONLY WANT A WORD WITH YOU!" Came the booming voice of who Rosalind could only assume was Lord Beckett himself. From a distance, she could tell he was a small man; sporting the all too and horribly familiar white blonde wig, and the navy uniform of the EITC. Hesitant, Rosalind glanced to the side of their ship, only to see that no gates were open for canon fire, and no men were brandishing swords. The Endeavour, to the eye, was not ready for battle.

"HOLD YOUR FIRE!" Boomed Rosalind, mere seconds after her demand to do the exact opposite. Rosalind surveyed the situation carefully, dropping a hip to one side and looking intuitively to the decks of the Endeavour. Indeed, the planks were lined with well dressed men, but none had been given the order to strike. And so, Rosalind glanced once more to Paul, who returned it only with a slight nod.

"A word regarding what, exactly!?"
"Preferably, a civilised word over here! Please, Captain Ricci, my throat is ill prepared for such a shouting match!"
Rosalind rolled her eyes, scanning quickly her frozen crew down below. Most of their eyes were looking up to her, waiting patiently for their next order. Filled with doubt and a burning desire to leave this situation alive, she looked reluctantly to Beckett.

"I'm afraid my trust for your lot has worn thin, Beckett! If there's even the slightest chance you'll pepper us with canon fire, I cannot accept!"
"What meets your eye is my crew, Captain Ricci! The entirety! I have no men below decks, and no intention to flash my canons! Unless, of course, you do not agree to hearing my word! Please trust me, Rosalind!"

Rosalind rolled her eyes once more, groaning loudly this time.
"Ugh, fine. I'll have your stupid word and be done with you and your pigs."
"Rosalind, are you sure about this?" Paul quickly interjected, grasping at her arm.
"Listen to him, Paul. If I don't have this talk, we're going into battle. I don't want to put your necks on the line, and so I will have this goddamned talk. RUN YOUR PLANK THEN, BECKETT, AND I'LL COME OVER. Lads, run the plank."

Instantly, yet hesitantly, the crew began their work on running the plank; and Beckett, his. Rosalind walked angrily to the crew then, with Harry and Paul following closely. Just before she reached the plank, she grabbed Harry's arm, pulling him close to her and leaning her lips to his ear.

"Listen, you're taking over now, yeah? I want you to use that brilliant initiative of yours and prepare for battle anyway. We can't trust a word that foul prick says, so I want you to keep a look out." She whispered lowly to her first mate, to which he nodded subtly in return. Then, she turned to Paul and Garrick.
"You two, you're coming with me." The surgeon and the quartermaster nodded frantically in return, before Rosalind set a stern foot on the plank.

"Wait a second, Miss Ricci!"
Rosalind rolled her eyes, looking regrettably towards the small man not far in front of her; standing firmly at the other end of her uncertain endeavour.
"What now?" She groaned.
"I request that your gunners be brought above deck!"
"Uh, I feel obliged to decline that particular request, actually."
"Only seems fair, does it not? Ironically, our trust for your lot seems too, to be wearing thin. Now, my gunners are not present at their post, and it only seems fair to play this game on level ground." 
Rosalind rolled her eyes, retreating slowly back to the crew and towards the steps descending to the lower decks.
"You heard what the swine said." She growled reluctantly to her crew.
Shortly thereafter, the rapping of boots against timber could be heard, as one by one, each of her gunners resurfaced from the lower decks.

The last one to return was Eugene "Mack" Mackenzie, and it was this man's arm which Rosalind pulled to her grasp.
"You lot stay close to the stairs. I want you back down there at the first sniff of battle." She whispered once more, earning herself another subtle nod of assurance.