Chapter Text
Inigo Montoya stood at the bow of the Revenge, looking out across the blue waves to the neverending horizon. The day was nice - bright sun poured from the heavens with nary a cloud in sight - but he had neither the time nor the interest to pay attention to it. Instead, his attention was fixed entirely upon the paper in his hand, apprehension lodged in his gut.
Inigo wasn't a fool; he'd known the moment he began his informal war against Humperdinck that the prince would eventually get worked up enough to try and fight back. Yet, despite it all, now that that day was here, Inigo couldn't help that edge of dread working its way into the pit of his stomach. He looked down, reading through the letter again, his mind catching once more on one particular sentence: Prince Humperdinck seeks the Aletheian Chalice.
The Chalice had long been viewed as a myth, a legend infiltrating Florin mythology, and no proof of its existence had ever made itself known. Very little was even known about it; it was said that the chalice held a never-ending connection to the river of knowledge, that it would give the user insight into the thoughts, desires, motivations, and intentions of others. If Humperdinck found the Chalice, it was only a matter of time before it was used against Inigo and his men, before the Revenge was destroyed and its crew imprisoned (or worse).
"Captain Roberts?" A voice broke his concentration and he turned, momentarily confused. For as long as he's been the Dread Pirate Roberts, it still felt odd to respond to the name.
He bit back the discomfort. "Yes?"
His first mate - a young man with shaggy blonde hair and a haunted look in his green eyes - stood there, his gaze full of contempt even as his posture affected deference. It was a look with which Inigo had become familiar, the look of someone who wanted power and was waiting for the first opportunity to take it. "A Florinese naval ship has been sighted a short distance off."
"Thank you, Felix. Adjust our heading and order the men to prepare for a fight."
"Aye, sir." Felix spun on his heels to follow his order, the crew obeying in a frenzy.
Inigo returned to looking out at the waves. The earlier serenity was shattered by the preparations being carried out behind him, the shouts of his men marring the silence, but Inigo couldn't stop the grin that overtook his features, tugging slightly on the raised scars on his cheeks. Sailing was enjoyable enough, but there was nothing that could compete with the joy of a fight or the feel of his father's sword in his hand, and he was looking forward to working out some nervous energy on the fight.
He turned, looking towards the direction Felix had indicated. Sure enough, two ships were visible, one with the easily-recognizable flag of Florin's navy. Oddly enough, the second ship sailed under no such flag. His curiosity piqued, Inigo raised a spyglass to his eye, steadying it as he looked out across the water and scrutinized the ships.
The Florin vessel was an ordinary Naval cutter with the name the Cygnus emblazoned on the side, but the second was nothing like any vessel he'd ever seen. In addition to the missing flag, the ship was brightly painted with whites, blues, reds, and yellows, standing out in stark contrast with the bland browns of the Florin navy, and even the Revenge. The crew of the second vessel lacked the crisp, starched uniforms of a navy, replaced with mismatched clothing of various colors and fabrics. Even the ship's name was obscured, blocked by the royal ship.
Inigo lowered the spyglass, still intrigued by the unfamiliar ship, but he turned his attention to the upcoming battle instead of considering it further. They were fast approaching the ships, and the cracking of weaponry was startling against the still air. The Revenge pulled up on the free side of the naval ship, sending out ropes to tether the vessels together. Felix and the other crew members extended the ship's gangways, storming onto the Florinese cutter with a bloodthirsty roar. Inigo followed shortly after, his rapier already in hand.
Immediately, he headed to the helm of the ship, dodging the pack of bustling bodies. A zealous naval lieutenant charged, sword raised to attack. Inigo raised his own, effortlessly parrying it away and striding past to where the captain stood, regarding the carnage before him with empty eyes. Panic immediately filled them as he saw Inigo approaching and he reached to his belt, fingers fumbling with his sword as he clumsily tried to remove it from the scabbard. He finally succeeded at pulling it out when Inigo was an arm's length away, sticking it out haphazardly. Inigo didn't waste a second in thought before batting it out of the man's hand, plunging his own sword hilt deep into his chest. The body fell to the planks with a dull thud.
Inigo turned at a cry at his back, raising his rapier to meet the descending steel of another officer. He allowed his mind to empty completely, his training and muscle memory taking over instead. His blood was racing, heart pumping as he moved, all-too-familiar fury invading his mind as he thought back, thinking of his father as he fell from Rugen's blade, of Humperdinck and everything he'd done, of the nameless captain's disinterest in the lives of his crew. With a final snarl, his sword darted forth again, claiming another life.
Inigo turned to look out at the rest of the ship, allowing himself a self-satisfied smile as his crew dealt with the final crew members. As the final body fell, the final member of the Cygnus's crew landing still amongst the blood and bodies, silence fell across the area. Inigo looked out at his crew, startled by the presence of several unfamiliar faces amongst them, and only then did he remember the mysterious second ship.
He snapped his fingers, gesturing for his men to join him at the helm. They obeyed immediately, Felix trailing behind them as he came to rest at Inigo's side. The other men stayed where they were, swords drawn and pointed at Inigo's crew. He stepped forward, raising his hands - one still holding the rapier - from his sides in a gesture of tentative peace. A smile on his face, he asked, "Hello. I am the Dread Pirate Roberts. You are on my ship, and that? Tsk, that cannot stand. So, I will ask you once. Where is your captain?"
"He's right here." An accented voice - not Spanish, like Inigo's, though he couldn't yet place what it was - floated from the rear of the Cygnus. The other vessel's crew split apart like the dividing of an ocean, moving quickly and gracefully to the edges of the cutter, turning to watch the encounter with barely disguised anticipation in their eyes.
A figure strode forth, stopping at the exact center point of the Cygnus. Inigo wasn't sure how he'd missed the man before, but it was clear that he wasn't the type to blend into any crowd, much less into his crew. Unlike the mostly brown wardrobe of the crew, the man's finery was all black leather and silver, and the massive greatcoat flaring out behind him as he moved - finer than much that Inigo had seen - was no exception. The man in black - Inigo had to stifle a feeling of deja vu at that epithet - was well-armed if the sheathed sword at his side and pistol stowed in his belt were any indication.
As he looked the man over, Inigo's attention was caught by a flash of moving silver near the man in black's left wrist. He realized with a start that, instead of the normal flesh he expected to see, the deadly curve of a hook extended from the man's sleeve, the point slightly bloody - from one of the naval officers, Inigo assumed.
Inigo looked up in surprise, curious, but stayed silent as he scrutinized the stranger's face. Short, though slightly shaggy, black hair hung over cool blue eyes directed straight at Inigo, a gaze that, despite years on the high seas, sent a slight shiver down Inigo's spine.
He stifled it, adopting as unimpressed a tone as he could. "Who are you?"
The man in black smirked and raised his arms from his sides, bowing elaborately. "Captain Hook, at your service." He straightened, his right hand coming to rest on the hilt of the still-sheathed sword. "It was a pleasure to meet you, I'm sure, but my men and I really must be going." His friendly smirk belied the tension Inigo could still see in him as, despite his words, he and his men stayed still, ready to stop any fighting Inigo might start.
At the words, Felix let out a short bark of a laugh, and Inigo was amused to see the man - Hook, he reminded himself - turn and look at him with a somewhat shocked expression, the incredulity that an inferior would interrupt such a meeting written clearly in his eyes, before turning away again. Inigo sent a short recriminatory glare at the boy before turning back, a pensive frown on his face. "But, Captain, I cannot just let you go." He clicked his tongue, shaking his head as he continued. "No, no…" He raised his finger to his chin, tapping it twice in faux-contemplation. "I tell you what… You best me in a duel on my ship, all of you are free. You fail, you all die."
Hook looked slightly uneasy as he turned to the crew, but his men let out raucous cries of support, sneers of confidence easy to see on their faces, and the show of good faith seemed to mollify the captain's doubts. "Aye, fair enough. No involvement from either crew, I trust?"
"Of course."
He nodded. "I accept." The captain pulled out his sword, crossing over to the Revenge. Inigo followed and, though he wasn't sure what possessed him to do so, shifted his sword to his left hand, grinning at the callback to his duel with Westley. Hook nodded once, adding, "Ready?"
Inigo smiled. "Begin."