Dead-or-Alive

-Chapter 5.1-

-Chapter 5.1 🌊 Weigh Anchor-

Their impromptu training session ended with Sybil's inevitable defeat and having had nothing civilized to say on the matter she eagerly let the shopping spree continue. Ranging from boots to cocked hats, they purchased it all. Unfortunately for her, no store she entered bore any distinctive differences from the first, so her wandering mind did what it did best and wandered. The first place her thoughts traveled was to her father, not that that wasn't to be expected. It always went there when she had the time, but to avoid such hell busy she stayed.

Pushing aside the misery that would surely arise come nightfall, Sybil's conscious tugged her back to the ship. Would the crew retaliate against Thatcher upon knowing his plan? Would they retaliate against her for persuading him? She snickered, imagining someone trying to persuade Captain Nathaniel Thatcher into doing anything he didn't want to. Though, it was a nice thought- the convincing him, not being keelhauled by the crew for doing so.

Whistling blissfully for a pirate who was potentially about to get tied under a brigantine, Sybil practiced fending off enemy pirates. Who knew, maybe in the hours to come her enemies wouldn't be as fictitious as she'd like to believe. Not that anything she was doing would help. Her swings were sloppy and no side remained guarded. Don't even get Thatcher started on her footwork.

The Captain trudged alongside her with knapsacks, full of a pirate's bare necessities, thrown over his shoulders and watched her swing the scimitar mindlessly through the air. At her snicker, he tightened his grip. Something about the sadistic smile on her lips didn't settle right with him. Regretting his question before he even asked, he threw common sense out the window. "Is something amusing?"

Slicing the air in one fine downward stroke, Sybil bounded over the hills to the ship. "Aye. Your crew joining me ranks and you shining me boots," she dreamt, gazing up at the afternoon sun.

A new frown line formed on his face, but luckily it had company, so the tragic thing didn't have to suffer alone. Giggling as if possessed by a maniacal witch, Sybil waved her scimitar in front of her Captain's face. "Smile some Cap. You're starting to look like a toad."

His frown deepened. Giving him a slow shake of her head, she started kicking over rocks and peeking her head around trees. "Feak lassie, what're you doing now?"

"I'm trying to find you a friend. Maybe if you had one, you would smile more often."

Shooting her a dark look he placed his boot on a rock to keep it from being overturned. Sybil puffed her cheeks and kicked it regardless. "There are no friends at sea. You sail, steal, and if required snuff lights. The second you stop is the second you are at the other end of a pirate's cutlass," he muttered, putting added distance between them the instant dirt turned to sand.

Jogging to close said distance, Sybil stared at Thatcher. "That can't be true. Quinton and Matthias are always together, laughing and joking. Tell me that isn't friendship."

"It isn't," he spoke without hesitation and didn't give Sybil a single inch to punch back, "Matthias is my first mate because if, dragons forbid, I ever pass there is no finer man, but Quinton seems to think he'd be a better fit. While the bloke would never directly challenge either of us, the hunger is there. I was watchful at first, but the drive only sought to serve him well during battle. A dead pirate can't rule the ocean."

Sheathing her scimitar, Sybil gave the brigantine, now visible in the horizon, a thoughtful stare. She wasn't looking at it, but she wasn't looking at anything around it either. Lost in her head, she hoped what he said wasn't true because if it was, being a pirate would be a lonely life indeed. Thatcher could sense her sorrow, Ato knew he felt it often enough, and sighed heavily. "Lassie, the seas are rough and with Red Jack alive and well one can never be too cautious. Come tomorrow, or some other day, maybe things will be different."

Returning her conscious to the present, Sybil smiled with the optimism of a modest piglet. "Do you think we'd every be friends?" she jested, the idea oddly not striking her as preposterous.

The Captain snorted. "Ato no. I'd rather befriend the forgotten dragon, Eterhul, himself."

Sybil stomped aboard the ship, anticipating their next sword fight. She was certain to best him then. Of course, in the meantime, she couldn't let the rapscallion get the last word in. "Good. I wouldn't want to be your friend anyway. You reek of rotten fish."

Grunting, he silently led Sybil to the hatch. "Ladies first," he snarked, dropping the bags and opening the hatch as any gentlemen ordinarily would.

"There's that pirate kindness people are always blethering on about. The past few days I thought it was a myth."

Launching herself down the ladder like a trained professional, Sybil held her arms up in the air for Thatcher to drop her knapsacks. He hurled them at her with more force than necessary and hopped down soon after. "Aye and if I didn't know any better I'd say that was a compliment."

"Fortunately for man and womankind you've somehow grasped the concept of sarcasm."

The Captain stopped arguing at that point, knowing his victory was short at hand because as well as possessing 'that pirate kindness' he also had the patience to win any battle and win he did. Opening the door to Sybil's new room, Thatcher grinned wider than any pirate who'd just won Nine Men's Morris. "You have to be feaking kidding me."

Shutting the door behind him, Thatcher's cackle could be heard from the bow to the stern. "Enjoy lassie," he whispered to no one in particular, as he set out to find a tavern.

Back below deck, Sybil glared at the barrels and crates piled sky high in her room. What the blast was she supposed to do with all of them? As tempting as throwing them all overboard was, she had a suspicion that wouldn't go over well with the crew. Groaning, she rubbed her temples. The crew... Facing them at sundown wasn't something she looked forward to. If anything, all she wanted to do was hide and let Thatcher take care of it as she knew he would, but she couldn't do that. She needed their help- more than that, she wanted their help, so she had to face them herself. Not all would understand, that much was given, but those who did would join her in her quest to reunite with her father and that was all she had ever wanted since the day Red Jack stole him from the island.

A/N: How do you think Cap's and Sybil's talk will go with the crew? ;)

P.S. Due to my mother's birthday and her leaving town shortly after the celebration parts 1.2 and 1.3 will be updated Saturday and then Sunday to accommodate...well me :)

I will have a whole week to myself dedicated to writing this book which is amazing, so the updates that follow should be on time. Thank you for understanding and all of your support!

Your grateful pirate queen,
Max <3