Chapter 7
The galley is in for a lot of noise as early in the morning. Some are weaving their ways in all decks, fasten and pace for their individual duties. The wind sharply hit the black sails, creating a rhythm of noise that immediately greeted one's ear. The noise in the galley however can't be in a dance of rhythm. Everyone's voice echoing one another, laughter, discussion, greetings, any other words are exchange at the great hour of morning
The woman, the patient, the stowaway, the unknown person who had just woken after days of endless slumber watches everyone in the galley. Stuffing their mouths with food as they speak and laugh away. Everyone is in a great mood, never minding a stranger sitting at one of the tables watching and observing them. They don't see the stowaway as a person of danger anymore, rather they are more happy to see that she had finally recovered. Their guilt is eating all of them, so being not doubtful is their way of redemption.
But one man still stands at his same ground even after what happened. Of course he also feels relieved to see the unwanted guest in great condition as he might have thought for a couple of times that what he did was illogical and harsh; but he can't let his guard down yet.
As he stands at the counter, cooking for the men in the galley, his eyes travel to the stowaway who continues to watch everything in front of her. She is dressed in Calev's garments, her long hair up in the messiest bun you can ever see. The combatant is sitting close to her, eating his meal peacefully but his senses are following the scene.
"I don't put poison in the food I cook." The quartermaster annoyed, said when he realized the stowaway has not touched her meal.
The stowaway looks up at him, she wanted to eat really bad as her hunger was almost crawling in every nook of her body. However she is still not familiar with the waves and the motion of the ship, she fears for the next nausea will take over her.
Calev stops midway of his eating, just to assure the woman that there is nothing to be worried about. The food is safe, they might be pirates and not the bestest people she will ever meet but they value food and water. Any man who sails the sea knows the value of food and water, thus they will never do anything to tarnish it. The woman slowly reaches out the bread, telling Calev and the quartermaster that she just doesn't want to waste it by vomiting.
"You're not used to sailing?" Elijah asked, concluding that the nausea comes from the motion of the ship, she hesitantly nodded taking her first bite of the bread.
She took a look at her plate; the fried egg on her platter with the almost burned bread yet edible enough stares back at it. Despite the lack of presentation, it looks appetizing. Though unsure of what might happen to her with her supposed sea sickness, she took her first bite.
Surprisingly, although with no expectations in her mind as she bit into it. It is a greeting to her palate. It reminds her of the meals that the combatant had given her while she was tied to the mast. In front of her, the man who has been cooking since she arrived in the galley. The blonde man with piercing dark brown eyes that she remembers, looks at his dish with the softest eyes she had ever seen in him. It's as if she is seeing a different person, he always looks scary but now he does not emit any of that.
"Well, at least we know now that whoever you are that you can't remember is not one for the ocean." A man suddenly appeared next to Calev, stealing a piece of bread from his plate. Calev did not seem to mind as if he is used to it.
The man appears to be the same age of Calev, purple ash hair to the root and matching the colors of gray and purple, probably one of the most mesmerizing colors she has ever seen in someone's eyes. Suited with his tan skin, melanin shining with sweat mirroring the shine of his cheeky smile as he amusedly stared at the stowaway. The dim light of the galley casts a soft glow on his hair, illuminating the striking contrast between the shaved sides and the longer, purplish-gray strands. His gray eyes sparkle mischievously, accentuating his playful smirk. The stowaway can't help but notice how his attire matches his carefree demeanor. He wears a sleeveless white tunic, its rough, unfinished seams revealing that it has been cut off. Each movement exposes his chest and glimpses of his abdomen. A dark belt hangs loosely on his dark trousers, weighed down by an array of small daggers and knives that gleam in the light. Her eyes widen at the sight; the weapons seem incongruous with his easygoing aura, yet they hint at a dangerous edge beneath his playful exterior.
This is the first time she has ever seen this man, he wasn't anywhere present at her first encounter with the crew. He is also the first man in the ship that appears friendlier than anyone at all. Although she has concluded on her own for a while now that Calev is at least the kind one who never left her side after she woke up and has been a great help to her, he is still as brooding as everyone knows.
"So, not anywhere near as a spy or even a marine." The man looks at Elijah with a suggestive look and smirks in his mouth that is daring the eldest to counter him. Elijah knows he can never say anything as it has gotten into him that this cheeky male is actually making sense.
He gave the eldest a wink before settling himself next to the stowaway.
Elijah continues to cook for the people who keeps on coming in the galley, his mind processing what the man in front of him spoke a little moments earlier.
Undeniably, he is making sense and he is redeemed as a paranoid man once again. If the stowaway can't stomach a moving ship, how in all hell could she be a marine when are basically living in a ship? He wonders all by himself, although still under the belief that the stowaway can be really lying, he can't miss all the facts that has been placed in his platter; both medically and logically.
A sigh of defeat left his lips.
"So, care to tell me your name, lad." The man with purple hair asked, wiggling his eyebrows at the ever so quiet, busily eating slowly, her meal, stowaway.
"S—he does not remember anything." The combatant flicked the man's forehead, pushing him off the way as he noticed how close he was to the woman.
"Oi, my bad. I didn' seem t' remember the information." He cheekily said, scratching the nape of his neck awkwardly. He composes himself, properly sitting in front of the lad before starting again.
"Well, a pretty lad I must say." He smirked, motives running in his shining pupils enchanting the stowaway who looked at him scared, well at least almost enchanting her.
" I have no problems with pretty lad." His smirk widened when he notices the shift of her eyes, his hands traveling to her earlobe, touching and caressing the pearl hanging in her ears.
" El,this lad must be rich." He looked back at the quartermaster who only rolled his eyes, focusing his attention more on the food he cooks.
The stowaway gasps with his touch and immediately swatted his hands and touched her ears with her own hands instead. Her back hitting the combatant chest as she backs further from the unnamed man. The pearl in her fingers rolled in the sense, feeling the shiny and smooth texture of the accessories.
[ Pearls; I didn't know I have such. ]
" Jade? I bet that cost a fortune." The talkative man laughed suggestively. His eyes shining at the sight of the beautiful gem in front of him.
Dangling in the beautiful small gold chains, in the middle of it that rests in the center of the stowaway's chest is a small pendant of jade. Not smaller than a pebble, but bigger to be not seen.
[ Jade; I didn't know I have such.
Why do I possess such things? ]
The unnamed man dares to reach for it, his hands excited to touch the jewel that he wishes to get. In his fingertips, the smoothness of its edges burns his skin the moment he has placed a claim for it. In an immediate response, he took his hands away from it harshly. The actions that made the stowaway back away further and stare at him with fears in her eyes.
[ What was that? ]
She too wonders when she feels the fire around it.
"Argus belay that before I slice your hands." Calev warned, his hands resting in her waist trying to balance her weight with him as she continued to back away from Argus.
The man named Argus laughed at his mates actions and words, finding him amusing as it went on.
"I see. I didn't know you also like pretty lads. Gatekeeping' it right away, aye." He teased, eyes glinting with malice as he continued to laugh.
She hears Calev growls in her ears, hands tightening in her waist. Yet he does not say anything, instead he just pushes the man once again. This time sending him off a few feet away from them which only resulted in a few laughter. The crowd did not seem to care, it id usual for the combatant and Argus to always end up physical with their teasing—or in the words Argus getting the physical from the combatant himself for being too much with his jokes.
Nonetheless, Argus composes himself once again and decides to halt his teasing and jokes and eat peacefully beside the two. Calev exchanges seats with the stowaway when he notices the discomfort she have. He's friendly—Argus is; but she feels like he is more like a flirt rather than a friend.
Dangerous.
Argus is in the middle of his usual talkative mornings, trying to get the stowaway to talk to him. However, she doesn't have any responses, forcefully reacting in silence as she hopes that this man won't flip on her for not saying anything.
In stolen glances she analyzes the man, through his friendly and flirty gesture and presence, his voice that pitches higher than anyone he had heard in the ship. Ironically of how he presented himself, she sees Argus as somehow dark. In contrast to his purple ash hair, his gray eyes looks cold. Similarly from the combatant, they both looked rugged and rough, but Argus is louder than the stoic man.
Argus is interrupted in his effort of taking the stowaway's guard down, a red haired man came in. Her eyes immediately take in the visualization of the man that walks towards their place.
[ Another one who looks more dangerous. ]
He is big, bigger than the combatant and Argus. Although they are all muscular, they have a distinct variety. Argus looked light with his muscles, Calev is more rugged and buff, but this red hair carries the weight. He does not look heavy as fat, he is the kind of heavy that is full of muscles that no one could push. Yet, with another irony even at the sight of his big body that can surely fight anyone, he bears a friendly face with his gummy smile and awkward eyes.
" Oh, I see you're finally awake mate." He sat next to Argus, looking past him and greeted her.
She remembers him, he was the man who offered her an apple while she was tied to the mast.
She nods in acknowledgement, still not finding anything to respond to any of them. They are fast to dismiss and let her be, which to her is a great idea as she busied herself with the tasteful meal. In her ears, she catches the conversation that she doesn't know if she is supposed to hear. But instead of diving into their conversation, she decides she had nothing to do with it and so she is careful not to take all their details, fearing that it could land badly for.
" Captain ordered, that the two of you must be at the frontline. There changes in the plan, he's planning to discuss that later." Draco, making the two men look at his way, perplexed with the sudden change.
"Oi mate, We be partners, ahoy with em ideas." Argus laughed, elbowing the man next to him. Calev elbowed him hard in return, making him yelp over his laughter.
" Captain must have got those again." The red hair shrugged, his eyes giving the look of familiar intonations, as he referred to something beyond those statements.
" Let's just focus on the mission. Savvy?
Time passes by, the three men converses through a variety of topics. Calev, on the other hand, just listens while the two did the most of the talking. He is silent, but he is focusing more on her, glancing at her way just to make sure she is fine.
Each and everyone leaving the tables empty as they finished their breakfast. Elijah has already cleaned the counter as Argus left to deliver the captain's meal in his quarters. By the time she has undone her plate by almost, the galley is lingered with no one.
Calev has been sharpening his tools like the day she has first laid her eyes on him. He sits a few chairs next to her still, silence between them and her eyes lingering on his figure. She is certain that no one is wrong if they judge Calev based on his looks.
He has a strong aura, his face gives that manly texture, from the sharpness of his jaw, well defined toned body. His arms strong and leaned, he looks like a fighter. And she is sure that he indeed is. Yet, the silence he gives brings calmness to her despite her mind still thinking of the fear she has for any of these men inside the ship. His black eye feels clear and light when he looks at her, as if she recognizes such a look. She can't believe it or even admit it, but she feels comfortable in his presence.
Calev too exposed arms, the sweat glistening in his biceps takes her attention by a sudden. Absentmindedly tugging on the hem of her clothes, she approaches Calev and wipes the combatant arms.
[ What am I doing? ]
Her eyes widening in realization, actions halted midway, unsure whether it is alright to actually touch the stoic man. She doesn't know why she did it. The sight of the man working with his weapon, she feels like she had to do something. Maybe she is just thankful for all that he did for her.
Calev is the only person in the ship, and even though she still fears him, he was kind to her, her instinct got into her, and now for the first time she feels so stupid.
The combatant however is also surprised by the action, not expecting anything from her at all. The gesture stirs something in him, his skin tingling in the small hands. Their skin touches the heat from one another, feeling the electric wiring into each other like a magnet.
Calev feels something inside him that wants to come out, in his strong effort of holding back he feels his demons prying his way out not with rage, but for the first time, acknowledgement. Their eyes meet, his eyes tells something yet he can't not allow himself to know. Then there goes the pull, the same feeling yet again consumes him.
The pull is getting stronger.
"Wench." He reminded himself, as if a warning he needs to hear and say, not to himself.
Instead a warning to her, a woman aboard with hundreds of men, dangerous men all alone. Her innocent gesture could lead her to something, it's not that he has no trust with all his mates but; it pulls.
The pull is getting stronger.
"You should belay any kind of actions like this, before anyone could misunderstand you." He warned, taking the cloth from her hands.
She swallows the lump in her throat, although not understanding she nodds in agreement.
" Don't try to do such things to the other men in the ship, savvy?"
She just looks at him confused.
"A wench boarding a ship, it's dangerous." He stated, not really wanting to scare her off but that is exactly what it did.
To Calev's surprise, not even Argus recognizes her when he has quite a radar for female. Although the captain himself has some suspicions, considering how he examined the stowaway's face last night. Taking note of her features not fit for a lad, the thought simply went away with ease.
Or did it?
"Why?" She asked.
"Women are deemed as bad luck in the ship." Calev coldly answered.
She feels uneasy after that, her mind starts to wander places again. She already had too much to think, she already had too much to worry. Too much in her small hands. She already had too much of what she could actually handle, and yet she has another thing to worry about.
Just as her life could get more sufferable, she woke up with no memoires, having pirates at the edge of the thread of her life, now she has to worry about herself being a woman. She feels hopeless at this point, her fears drowning her in the fastest pace it could ever.
But Calev assures her not to worry about anything, telling her none of his mates are superstitious, especially the captain. Well, with the exception of him and other higher ranks, he has no idea about the remaining crew, after those people are still men and pirates who might believe in such sayings. However may they be superstitious or not, the captain can leave a word if they might suggest throwing her out for being woman; and besides she had him.
She has him.
Calev.
[ She has me.]
He contemplated for a second. Uncertain of the sudden dedication for her safety and welfare.
He doesn't even know who she is, but why?
The whole time, he has been so caring and engrossed about her that it didn't make sense. And even if he knows his mates won't believe in any kind of superstitions, why does it feel heavy for him to let them discover the truth. He just doesn't feel right at all, as if he was worried that they would meet a different kind of reaction. As if, he is hiding the truth to protect her all along.
That pull; that gut feeling told him that.