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It had seemed like a good idea at the time, to purchase a ship and sail as far away from home as she could. Away from her father’s threat to marry her off to some rich boy from across the continent, away from the monastery, away from being Thoureau Lionett’s biggest disappointment. And for a while, it was great. She bought a ship she christened the Lioness , and found a crew that swore up and down they had experience with piracy. While it was a difficult adjustment at first, she found her sea legs soon enough. Captain Lionett was a different woman than the one she left behind on shore, and she revelled in it.
True, they hadn’t gotten a lot of piracy done just yet, but they had managed to fiercely rob a few shipwrecks.
It had all gone swimmingly, until they managed to sail right into a Dwendalian navy vessel, Beau got stabbed, and then they got commandeered by the Orphan Maker.
The crew had been in a right tizzy once they realised what ship was coming to their aid- or rather, rescue. Beau would have been too- her crew told lively tales of the Orphan Maker during dinner that raised the hairs on her arm and privately excited her beyond belief- had she not been preoccupied by a sword driven through her stomach.
She spent the next few weeks in a daze, being looked after by an angelic woman clad in tight leathers, occasionally accompanied by a lavender tiefling who usually just scowled at her. At first, she assumed the woman was a hallucination from whatever medicinal spice Jester had her chewing on, but then the hallucination started talking to her and it turned out she was real. Her hands were surprisingly soft when they helped Beau sit up in her bunk, and she smiled so gently at Beau’s shitty jokes. Her face lit up when Beau showed her the engravings of a giant squid and some dolphins someone had made in the wood of her cabin, and even more so when Beau showed her her secret library.
Beau, on her part, found herself looking forward to spending time with the woman, whose name was Yasha. She was gentle, polite, and had such a dry sense of humour that came out more the longer they spent together. She could tell the crew was a little confused, if not outright suspicious of how fast she made a friend. But when it came to Yasha, Beau found it easy to let her in. Not to mention she was the most beautiful person Beau had seen in a very long time. Everytime she bit her lip in concentration when they played a game of chess, Beau couldn’t help but stare and wonder what it would be like to kiss the tattooed line. Whenever Yasha attempted to wink and inevitably closed both eyes, Beau could feel herself fall a little further. She didn’t dare make a move; she wasn’t blind, and the rings on the chain around Yasha’s neck told her enough to back off.
It wasn’t until Beau was fully healed and they pulled into Darktow, she discovered who her bedside angel was.
“You’re the Orphan Maker?” she blurted from where she stood next to Yasha on the quarterdeck. The taller woman just smiled and raised a finger to her lips with a wink.
Once the ship had docked and their entry fee to Darktow had been paid, Beau made to join her crew on what was sure to be a raunchy pub crawl. A hand on her shoulder stopped her.
“Come with me,” Yasha said, “I know a place you’ll love.”
Who was Beau to refuse the legendary Orphan Maker?
She followed Yasha, who was clearly recognised by most people on the streets. Some people bowed for her, others simply fled indoors and closed the doors. It made Beau wonder how Yasha had gained this reputation, and also why she wasn’t in charge of Darktow. Beau had always been a people watcher, and so she observed Yasha's confident stride falter ever so slightly when a mother ushered her children out of the way. She watched Yasha kneel next to an old beggar with a mangy dog and hand him a gold piece and an offer to join her crew, provided he bring the dog. She let Yasha lead her through winding streets, past whorehouses, butcher shops, bars, until finally, they reached a small tavern at the very edge of Darktow.
Yasha held open the door for Beau, revealing a small, cozy, tea house. It felt out of place in the chaotic streets of Darktow, its interior almost cottage-like. Dried herbs and flowers hung from the beams, and the place distinctively smelled of incense and potpourri. Standing behind the counter, drying a mug, was a tall firbolg with a mop of incredibly pink hair.
“Hello Caduceus,” Yasha said to the firbolg, “Good to see you again. I brought a friend.” The Firbolg gave her a lopsided grin, and put the mug down.
“Yasha, it’s been far too long,” he greeted her, “Find a place, I’ll be right along with you. The usual?”
“The usual,” Yasha confirmed, and motioned for Beau to follow her to a table next to an open window looking out on a cliff. Yasha sat down on the rickety chair with a large sigh, and her shoulders visibly relaxed. Beau took the chair opposite of her a little uneasily. It was silent for a few minutes, the only sound being Caduceus rummaging about behind the bar. Beau was about to crack a terrible joke just to prevent the silence from becoming awkward, when Yasha suddenly turned to look at her.
“So what brought you to piracy?”
Beau swallowed in an attempt to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth.
“Uh,” she intelligently said, “You know. Wide blue yonder, sense of adventure. Seemed like fun, mostly.” Either Yasha didn’t see through her lie or she took pity on her, but instead simply nodded.
“It is very adventurous,” she said, “It’s why I like coming here. Not to Darktow, but Caduceus’ place. It’s nice and quiet here, and he doesn’t look at me all afraid as if I’m going to kill him on a whim.”
“You’re an odd pirate,” Beau blurted, “You’re really nothing like what I thought the Orphan Maker would be like, based on the stories. I mean, you’re a living legend and I thought Marius was going to piss himself when you told him off, but- I can’t figure you out.” Yasha gave the tiniest of a smile at that, barely noticeable had Beau not spent the majority of their time together stealing glances of Yasha’s lips.
“I am a mystery,” she said, with a hint of humorous sarcasm to her tone, “It is true. But out there, the Orphan Maker, she is not me. She is a means to an end, she is maybe who I used to be, but I am tired of that life. It has made me appreciate the quiet all the more.”
As if on cue, the door flung open with a loud bang. Stumbling through was Caleb, the wizard Beau had hired to be her navigator despite his complete lack of experience on a ship. He had an uncanny knack for knowing where the north was; he had also come as a package deal with Nott, the shady goblin who claimed to know exactly how cannons worked, which seemed like a useful skill to have aboard a pirate ship.
Caleb was clutching his stomach, blood seeping through his fingers as he gasped out: “You have visitors, captain.”
“Oh, absolutely not,” Caduceus said, moving from behind the counter with record speed. He leaned heavily on a crutch under his arm, but smoothly caught Caleb before he could collapse. He laid his large hand on Caleb’s abdomen, and some literal moss sprouted from his hands to close up the gaping wound. “Rule number two, no dying in my establishment,” he calmly said, patting Caleb on the back as if this was the most normal occurrence in the world.
“What’s rule number one?” Caleb asked, visibly confused and still looking a little rougher than Beau would like.
“No boots on the table,” Caduceus said, and Beau could’nt tell if he was joking or not.
“What the fuck happened?” she asked instead as Caleb sagged down onto a chair Caduceus pulled out for him. He was still out of breath, and Beau made a mental note to get him to do some sort of exercise regime.
“Pirates showed up, looking for you,” he gasped, gratefully accepting the glass of coconut water Caduceus handed him. He chugged it in one go before continuing. “They want you dead, and I do not think they care much about collateral damage. We are holding them off, but they are very strong.” Yasha was already on her feet, picking up her impractically large sword that she had left at the door.
“Well, come on,” she said expectantly, already holding the door open. Beau quickly pressed a goldpiece into Caduceus’ hand, hauled Caleb to his feet, and gave Yasha a nod. They rushed out together, Caleb leading the way to the docks where a skirmish had broken out. Beau let out a curse when she recognised Jester on the receiving end of some sort of spectral tentacle. She didn’t have to think twice before rushing in, swinging at the first enemy sailor she came across. To her surprise, she found herself back to back with Mollymauk Tealeaf, Yasha’s right hand menace.
“Glad you could join us,” the tiefling said as he slashed at a dagger wielding gnome with his flashy scimitars. Beau had no time to reply, only ducking away just in time for a bolt of eldritch energy to sail past her and impact the side of an impressive ship named Squall Eater instead. Her arrival on the battlefield marked a notable shift, as most combatants abandoned their attempts to overwhelm her and Yasha’s crews, instead flocking towards where she and Molly stood back to back.
“My pleasure,” Beau said, ducking away from a mote of fire and hitting some bald ruffian in the head with her stick. The fight was nearly overwhelming, and Beau couldn’t tell which side was winning, until a loud screaming came from the Squall Eater .
“Holy fucking shit,” she heard an injured Molly breathe next to her. She followed his gaze to where Caleb stood, arms outstretched and eyes staring blankly ahead, unseeing, at the inferno raging on the ship. The battle fell still, the pirates on the dock calling to retreat, while some on the ship threw themselves overboard in desperation.
Within seconds, the ship was silent. Moments after that, Beau, Yasha, what remained of their crews and an unfamiliar pirate captain wearing a magnificently large hat were all chained together on the docks. A boot in Beau’s back forced her down onto her stomach next to Yasha, who was struggling against the binds but gave in when her eyes met Beau’s.
“I’m sorry,” Yasha mouthed, a look of regretful sorrow in her eyes. Beau didn’t know what she was apologising for, but reached out with her foot to touch Yasha’s, trying to convey forgiveness. It wasn’t Yasha’s fault they lost the fight- although Beau was fairly sure she considered getting out of any fight alive a win. She winked at Yasha, who smiled back, and as her hands were bound tighter together, Beau wondered how she got so lucky.
Barely a day later, she wondered if her luck had run out as they were officially banished from Darktow. he Plank King had allowed them to gather supplies, repair their ship, and supplement their crew before ordering them on their way upon dawn. She stood at the helm of the ship, staring out at Darktow growing smaller and smaller in the distance. When she finally tore her gaze away, she noticed a familiar set of leather boots dangling from the crow’s nest. Beau felt a pang of guilt at knowing Yasha and her crew were also never to set foot in Darktow again.
The climb to the crow’s nest wasn’t difficult, not for Beau. The view was breathtaking, and Beau wondered why she didn’t spend more time up here. Granted, usually Jester was hiding out here, but Beau had a sneaking suspicion she was still interrogating the half orc sailor who had turned against his own crew during the battle at the Squall Eate r below deck. The ocean sprawled out in front of her, the blue shimmering water whispering promises of adventure. Yasha’s ship sailed alongside them, blackened sail and intimidating flag- Beau really should get a flag of her own- waving proudly in the wind. The view could not compare to the sight of Yasha basking in the glow of the midday sun. Beau found herself staring at the notorious pirate captain, staring out over the ocean at her own ship, holding something in her hand.
Not for the first time, Beau felt her insides do a summersault when Yasha noticed her presence and made brief eye contact. Something was off, this time, however. Yasha quickly subverted her gaze, and she didn’t even give the barest glimpse of a smile. Beau frowned, concern deepening when she spotted the browned leaflet crumpled up in Yasha's hands. Beau sat down next to Yasha and gently touched her arm like they had done so many times before in the brief time they'd sailed together. This time, Yasha flinched away from her touch and Beau felt her stomach drop like a rock.
"Is something wrong?" Beau heard herself ask, failing to sound casual. Yasha shook her head, although Beau could not tell if it was in confirmation or denial, and stared out at the ocean.
"I should apologise," Yasha eventually said, sounding strained. She smoothed out the paper in her hands, and Beau's heart skipped a beat when she recognised her own face, underneath a listed price of five thousand gold pieces, courtesy of Thoreau Lionett.
"Yasha, what is this?" Beau asked, and reached for the wanted poster with shaking hands. Yasha let go of it willingly, but refused to look at Beau. Instead she occupied herself with picking at her fingernails.
"It's a bounty," she eventually said. "That's why those pirates in Darktow were after you. It's… It's why I was after you."
Beau froze. Her whole world seemed to shatter. She had dared to dream that maybe, just maybe, she could have something akin to happiness with Yasha, a chance to sail off into the sunset under blazing cannons. It all came crumbling down with those words. Beau gripped the paper tightly before shoving it back at Yasha. She abruptly got to her feet, and grabbed the rope to descend to the deck below. She landed easily, ignoring Yasha calling her name. Tears blinded her vision, and she furiously wiped them away, refusing to show her crew any vulnerability.
“Beau, wait.” A hand gripped her shoulder to stop her just as she was about to enter her quarters. Beau whipped around, shoving the hand off of her and using the momentum to pin Yasha back up against the mast. Rationally, she knew Yasha was letting her; the other pirate captain could have easily resisted.
“No,” she said through gritted teeth. “You betrayed me. You gained my trust and you- you-” Perhaps Yasha’s stricken expression should have made her feel compassion, an inclination to forgiveness, but Beau had no patience for those who broke her trust. Not anymore, and certainly not again. She let go of Yasha with a shove, ignoring her wide eyed expression.
“Get off my ship,” she told Yasha, voice void of any emotion, “Take your things, and get the fuck off of my ship.”
“Beau-” Yasha tried, sounding hurt which was just something, Beau thought bitterly. She didn’t get to be hurt, and Beau wasn’t going to let her explain herself. This was a lesson, Beau told herself; a lesson to not let her walls down again, to not trust anyone, no matter how they presented themselves.
“Now,” she told Yasha and crossed her arms. She could see the rest of the crew openly stare, Nott not even pretending to be mopping the deck anymore. The Orphan Maker’s shoulders slumped, and her expression hardened. It reminded Beau of the expression that struck fear in the hearts of their enemies. The expression that, paired with the facepaint she hadn’t worn in months now, gained her the reputation of a ruthless, blood thirsty, and legendary pirate. The expression that had softened with every whispered conversation and morning sat on the upper deck, looking out over the ocean and sharing their breakfast. The Orphan Maker gave a short nod, and barely thirty minutes later, she was rowing back to the Zuala . Beau watched her climb on board through her spyglass, but put it down when Yasha looked back over at her ship with a resigned sad expression on her face.
“Captain?” Caleb was at her side, looking back at the other ship. Beau looked up, and found most of her crew still looking at her uneasily.
“Don’t you all have jobs to do?” she snapped, and shoved the spyglass back in her pocket. The crew stumbled over themselves to get back at whatever tasks they had been doing.
“What’s the course, captain?” Caleb asked, almost hesitant. Beau turned her back on the Zuala , now in the process of turning around.
“Away,” she said, and stalked off to her quarters to open up a bottle of her father’s most expensive wine and drink it in one go.
Over the next few days - weeks? Beau lost track of time somewhere around the fifth bottle of wine - Jester, Caleb, and Nott kept checking up on her. One time, Jester brought in the half orc from the Squall Eater , and managed to convince Beau to make him Boatswain. Their concern felt almost constricting, but Beau did not have the energy to fight it. She spent her days in her berth, staring out of the porthole window, and nursing her bottle. She snapped at Nott for being a hypocrite when she commented on it, and after that, the goblin didn’t check in on her anymore.
The sea was calm, and they were sailing at a slower speed than usual towards nowhere in particular. Beau knew there was mutiny brewing, the crew growing more and more unhappy with their aimless sailing and dwindling supplies. She also couldn’t bring it upon herself to care.
“Beau!” Jester came storming into her cabin, and Beau just turned around in her berth with a groan that translated to a muffled “Leave me alone.” Jester ignored her wallowing entirely, and rushed over to rip the blankets off of her.
“Get your butt up,” she said with a sense of serious urgency that was rare for the tiefling. “We need you above deck, dressed in something else than that dressing gown.” Beau reluctantly sat up, thanking the gods for her apparent immunity to hangovers.
“What’s going on?” she asked, running a hand through her hair by means of combing it and catching the mostly clean shirt Jester threw her way.
“We have company,” Jester said grimly, and threw a boot at her.
Company turned out to be a fleet of Dwendalian navy ships with their cannons aimed at them.
“Shit,” Beau said, dressed up in her full pirate regalia for the first time in weeks. She lowered her spyglass, handing it to Caleb.
“So what do we do?” Fjord asked, hand resting on the empty scabbard at his side.
“Permission to load the cannons?” Nott asked, her voice nearly a screech.
“Sure,” Beau said, ignoring Caleb’s startled cough.
“Are you sure, Beauregard? They’re- They outman us ten to one,” he said, visibly alarmed. Beau shrugged and conjured a grin to her face, and said: “We’re pirates, aren’t we?”
That earned her a cheer from Nott, who raced downstairs, already barking orders at her powder monkeys. Everyone else sprung into place, getting out their guns and unsheathing their swords. Marius was already hoisting their improvised pirate flag high, and with the first cannon fire, Beau felt alive for the first time in weeks.
They stood no chance, of course. They had a total of five cannons, and had not restocked their ammunition since Darktow. Beau wasn’t sure what else it had been used on, but given that Nott was in charge of the powder storage, she had her suspicions.
“Prepare for boarding,” she shouted out over the ship, and cracked her knuckles. Her staff was still downstairs, so her fists would have to do. Fjord summoned a sword to his hand, and to Beau’s amusement took up position in front of Jester as if wanting to shield her from incoming violence. There wasn’t much time for preparation before the first daredevils flung themselves over from the navy ship to the Lioness . Beau ducked out of the way of a bullet, retaliating by launching herself at the offending marine and punching him square in the face.
Rationally, Beau knew this was a terrible plan and they were pulling it off even more poorly. Caleb was already down, Nott standing over his unmoving body firing her crossbow at anyone who dared to come close. Fjord and Jester stood back to back, fighting off enemies with sword and magic but both visibly exhausted and hurt. Beau wiped blood away from where it was dripping in her eyes from a head wound, and managed to jump out of the way of an incoming sword strike onto the railing. She looked out at the chaos on the ship, and realised they were never going to make it. This whole thing had been a foolish decision from the start. She was a rubbish pirate, knew nothing about the ocean, really, and now she had driven her crew into death. She lowered her fists, ready to give up, when-
“Ship incoming!” one of the navy men bellowed, pointing to the horizon. “Fuck- Sir! It’s her!” Beau couldn’t hear whatever the Dwendalian lieutenant shouted, but it sent the enemy scrambling to the railing, Beau’s crew momentarily left alone but for a small number of people keeping them in check and away from the defensive line now formed by the Dwendalians. Beau was pulled down from the railing by one of them, and pushed towards where Fjord and Jester had been pushed down to the deck and bound. Beau looked up, squinting to try and see beyond the navy men and the glaring sun.
Black sails unfurled against the blue sky, pushing the ship forward at a much higher speed than the natural wind allowed for. Beau’s heart skipped a beat when she recognised the flag the ship was flying: a woman’s face in profile against a black cloth, eyes closed and a thorny crown resting on her head. She would know that flag anywhere.
The Zuala took no heed of the panicked warning shots sent over by the navy ships, pushing forward until they were close enough to board. Mollymauk was the first to land on the Lioness , scimitars blazing with blood fuelled fire. The rest of the Orphan Maker’s crew wasn’t far behind, cutting through the marines like they were butter on a warm day. A crew-member who Beau didn’t know cut them free of their bonds, and she didn’t hesitate twice before throwing herself back into the fray.
The arrival of the Zuala changed the tides, especially when they threw their plank over and the Orphan Maker herself arrived. She stepped off of the plank, her sword dragging behind her. Dark blue face-paint streaked across her face made her look every bit the intimidating pirate she was known as. It was both intimidating and incredibly hot. She briefly made eye contact with Beau, and the faintest hint of an apologetic smile tugged at the corner of her mouth before she launched an attack on the navy lieutenant, driving her sword straight through his chest.
It wasn’t long before the Baldurian ships were fleeing northwards, leaving a good amount of their crew dead or taken hostage. Jester rushed over to Caleb to revive him, and Beau let Fjord handle their hostages. She took two steps towards Yasha, who met her halfway.
“You came back,” Beau said, a little breathless and light headed, although that might be attributed to the blood loss. Yasha reached out to rest her hands on Beau’s arms, and a warm energy flowed through her core.
“I regret ever leaving,” Yasha replied, her hands still warm on Beau’s skin through her ripped sleeves. “Beau, I- I need to apologise. I am sorry that I betrayed your trust. I should have told you-”
“Yasha,” Beau interrupted, bringing up her hand to lightly touch Yasha’s cheek. The warm feeling hadn’t faded, although she was sure it wasn’t the lingering magic anymore. “It’s okay. I don’t- I don’t know if I can forgive yet- No, look at me, let me finish. I don’t know if I can forgive you yet, but we can work on it. I want to- You came back for me.” She swallowed thickly, and added: “Nobody has ever come back for me.”
Yasha’s grip tightened ever so slightly before she leaned forward to rest her forehead against Beau’s.
“I always want to come back to you,” she whispered, ignoring the bustling around them as Fjord began instructing the crew to round up the dead bodies. “Beau, you are so special. You made me think about what I want in life, and I had a lot of time to do that when I left. Sailing away from you made me realise what I want… What I want is you.”
The sincerity of those words shook something in Beau, and she couldn’t help but choke on a sob. Yasha wiped a tear away from the corner of her eye.
“You make me feel like Yasha,” she softly said, “And that makes you the best thing that’s happened to me in a very long time.”
Beau brought a hand to the back of Yasha’s head, gently caressing her head for a moment as if asking for permission. When Yasha gave her that rare, gentle, private smile, she leaned in and pressed their lips together. All in all, it was a messy kiss, wet with tears and snot and blood. Beau wouldn’t change it for the world.
"The feeling's mutual," Beau whispered when they pulled back apart, smiling at Yasha's almost blissful expression at those words. "You make me want to be a better person, a better pirate. I left home because I wasn't happy there, and I don't- I'm trying to figure out what does make me happy, but I think the answer to that question is you."
Yasha held her closely, burying her face in Beau's messy and frankly greasy hair, not seeming to care. It was too early to say those three words, but as she stood there, on the deck of her heavily damaged ship amidst the chaotic aftermath of a nearly disasterous battle, cradled in Yasha's arms, Beau realised with a burst of euphoria that she loved Yasha.
"Will you stay?" she asked, looking at where the Zuala was moored beside them, some of the crew bringing over planks to repair the ship with and crates with rations.
"Two captains on a ship is a terrible idea," Yasha said, thoughtful but with a hint of humour at the edge. "But, what was that thing you told me about? Retirement? That sounds nice. Perhaps I will retire from being a captain, and I can sail with you instead."
"Are you sure?" Beau asked, and Yasha just nodded.
"I think it is time," she said, "Mollymauk can take over the mantle of the Orphan Maker. Besides, I can't think of a better future than sailing under you, Captain."