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The fog was making Caitlyn uneasy.
It had rolled in quickly, obscuring the clear skies in no more than ten minutes. Caitlyn, positioned near the front of the ship, could hardly see a thing. Her normally sharp eyes were useless against the seemingly endless dark clouds.
Caitlyn didn’t believe in ghost stories, never had. Her classmates growing up had always listened to them with wide eyes amidst the dim glow of candlelight in the dark dorm of their boarding school, always left too frightened by the tales to sleep properly for the next week. Meanwhile, all they had ever managed to pull from Caitlyn was an eyeroll and a yawn.
Still, something about this fog sent a shiver down her spine.
“Officer Kiramman.”
Caitlyn jumps and spins around.
Commodore Marcus narrows his eyes at her.
“Sir,” Caitlyn greets with a hasty salute.
“I believe I had you on gun maintenance duty,” Marcus says, clear distaste in his words. His eyes droop to look at the disassembled rifle laying on the deck. “Not daydreaming duty.”
Unsure of what to say, Caitlyn responds with a simple, “Yes, sir.”
With one last glare, Marcus turns on his heel and walks away. Caitlyn relaxes once she sees him lecturing another member of the crew, turning back to the gun she’d neglected. She could clean a rifle faster than just about anyone, that much she knew, but after three hours of it she was starting to detest the smell of gunpowder. Sighing, Caitlyn sinks back down to where she’d been previously sitting, taking the gun’s pieces in hand and assembling it mostly through muscle memory.
When she’d joined the Piltover Royal Navy a year ago, she’d expected a lot more action: tracking down criminals, defending their territory, sailing off to claim uncharted land. Much to her disappointment, the majority of her time spent aboard the Enforcer had been dedicated to grunt work and failing to get on Marcus’s good side… if he even had a good side.
A strong gust of wind catches the lip of Caitlyn’s hat and blows it off her head and right over the side of the ship. Caitlyn curses and drops the rifle in her hand, making a mad grab for it and coming up short. She watches as the hat drifts over the water, landing far enough away that Caitlyn knew she would never see it again.
“Shit,” she swears. Just her luck. As if Marcus needed another reason to think her incompetent.
She’s standing at the railing, staring at her hat, when suddenly a large form appears through the fog. Caitlyn’s eyes widen and she looks up, watching as the form takes the shape of another ship. By the time details come into view, Caitlyn knows it’s already too late.
A dark hull, blood-red sails, and a flag decorated with skull and crossbones in the shape of a V flapping in the wind.
Well, Caitlyn had wanted to see some action.
“Incoming!” Caitlyn yells, catching the attention of the officers around her. She points at the approaching ship. “Pirates!”
The crew leaps into action, racing to their stations while Marcus barks orders. Caitlyn distributes the newly cleaned rifles, keeping one for herself before rushing into line with the rest of her squadron. The pirate ship is in full view now, coming up side-by-side with the Enforcer. She sees the pirates right before she hears them, their jeering loud over the sound of their own shouting as they continue to prepare themselves for attack.
Caitlyn has read enough encounters of pirate attacks to know what comes next.
She grits her teeth as screams of “fire” come from both ships, dozens of cannons answering the call with deafening booms. The deck shakes as cannonballs smash into the hull of the Enforcer, and Caitlyn barely hears the command of “open fire” over the sounds of combat. Caitlyn attempts to focus herself despite the mayhem, taking a steady breath in and locking onto a target, pulling the trigger as she releases the breath. The bullet meets its mark, and the pirate she’d hit clutches his chest as he falls into the water below.
Caitlyn doesn’t have a moment to congratulate herself, because the next moment a cannonball is crashing through the deck at her feet.
Their ranks scatter, some getting hit with debris while others ducked for cover. Caitlyn is somewhere in the middle, getting smacked in the head with a piece of the ship’s railing before throwing her arms over her face, protecting herself from further damage. It takes her a few moments to compose herself, blinking spots out of her eyes from getting hit so hard. She feels something warm drip down from a cut over her eye.
By the time she’s fully recovered, Caitlyn is horrified to find the pirates beginning to board their ship, grabbing hold of ropes on their own ship in preparation of swinging onto the Enforcer. Caitlyn quickly holds her rifle back up and manages to send two more pirates into the water before they’re swarming the deck of the ship with shouts and threats.
The next several minutes are a blur to Caitlyn. She sticks to her gun as long as she can, having always been better at a range than close combat, but eventually she has to give it up in favor of pulling out her sword, engaging the enemy up close and personal.
Despite the training and skill of the Navy officers, it becomes increasingly clear that they are outmatched. The pirates fight with unrestrained, unprecise techniques, and it’s just enough to overwhelm the Piltovan forces. In seemingly the blink of an eye, the pirates have forced them into a surrender, gathering the dozen or so survivors and tying them to the main mast of the ship.
The pirates jeer and mock them while they set to work looting the ship, hauling coins, maps, gunpowder, and anything else they deem valuable across the gangplank now connecting the two ships. Marcus spews insults at their captors until they decide they’ve had enough of him, punching him in the face and gagging him to shut him up.
Caitlyn never thought that she’d agree with the actions of pirates, but she can admit that it’s nice not hearing his agitating voice anymore.
The sound of heavy boots on the gangplank put an end to the pirate crew’s taunts, an anticipated hush falling over the lot. Caitlyn tears her eyes away from where she’d been resolutely glaring at some spot on the deck and looks up, finding someone new walking onto the ship.
Instantly, Caitlyn knows this is a person not to be messed with.
The woman she sees is obviously the captain, that much is obvious from the respect she immediately commands from her crew simply by being in their presence. A tricorn hat sits on top of unruly red hair, a deep red pirate frock coat draped over her shoulders. Her loose white shirt is unbuttoned halfway down her chest, and Caitlyn can’t help but notice how remarkably kempt she looks considering the battle they’d just endured. Either she hadn’t been in the action at all, or she was good enough that no one had been able to lay a hand on her.
Caitlyn gulps as the Captain comes to a stop in front of the remaining officers, running her eyes over each of them. “How many left?” she asks, seemingly to no one in particular.
“Eleven,” a man with curly blond hair answers. A white hourglass tattoo stands in stark contrast to the dark skin of his face.
The Captain considers this. “And the ship?”
“Almost emptied,” the same man replies.
“Good,” she says. She continues speaking as she turns around as if to walk back to her ship. “Finish up here quickly, then we’ll get some distance between us and sink ‘em.” She flashes a twisted smile at the officers. “Hope you all know how to swim.” The pirates surrounding them snicker their approval.
In a burst of movement, Marcus manages to free himself. Caitlyn’s heart leaps in her chest, certain that he’ll cut the rope, shoot the captain, do something to help get them out of this mess, but instead watches as he slips through the pirates’ ranks, throwing himself over the side of the ship before anyone manages to stop him.
The pirates surge to the railing, looking down as Marcus presumably starts swimming away. One man pulls out a gun and takes aim. Another grabs a rope as if he intends to swing down after him. Once again, they all come to a halt at the voice of their captain.
“Let him go,” she says, unbothered. “He won’t make it far, and the rest will be joining him soon, anyway.”
As she watches the Captain walk away, details start rapidly putting themselves together in Caitlyn’s mind. The flag, the red sails, the sinking of the defeated ship…
“I’ve heard of you,” Caitlyn blurts out. The Captain turns back around with a raised eyebrow.
“A fan,” she muses, a hint of appraisal in her voice. She saunters over to where Caitlyn stands, still tied to the ship’s mast. Her eyes flit across Caitlyn’s face and she tilts her head curiously. “And what, pray tell, have you heard about me?”
“That you’re vile,” Caitlyn spits out. She locks eyes with the Captain’s stormy grey eyes. “That you’re a ruthless killer. The Hound of the Sea.”
The Captain’s eyes sparkle. From this close Caitlyn can make out the bold VI tattooed on her freckled cheek, right under her left eye.
“Ah, so you have heard of me,” she says. She slips her hat off and presses it to her chest, bowing cordially. “Dread Pirate V, at your service.” She straightens and fixes her hat back on her head. “And am I to assume you’re the commander of this vessel?”
Caitlyn nearly rolls her eyes. “I’m afraid our commander is the one who just threw himself overboard.”
Captain V scoffs and turns to look at the man from earlier. “See, this is why I can’t stand avy folk. Absolutely no decency whatsoever. A true captain would never abandon his crew.” She turns back to Caitlyn. “It’s a shame, though. If you were captain, I’d consider letting you come aboard… for a time.” Her eyes travel across Caitlyn’s face again, a spark of something unreadable in her eyes. That spark is gone the next second, replaced by a wolfish grin, showing off sharp canines, one silver tooth flashing dangerously.
Evidently, Hound of the Sea was an apt title.
“Then again,” Captain V says, voice contemplative. She reaches out and places two fingers under Caitlyn’s chin. “It’d be a shame to let such a pretty face go to waste.” Before Caitlyn can respond, Captain V drops her hand and turns to address her crew. “We’re taking this one with us! Load up the rest of the supplies and let’s be off.” She shoots a look of disgust at the ship and the officers around Caitlyn. “I’m done looking at this shit.”
Caitlyn only gets a moment to resist when the ropes around her loosen, struggling as best as she can to free herself completely to no avail. A gag is shoved in her mouth and new rope is tied around her wrists and ankles before she is unceremoniously slung over the shoulder of a large man and carried off the ship as if she were nothing more than part of the cargo they were looting. That thought is proven correct when she’s dropped on a pile of stolen goods, wedged uncomfortably between a crate and a barrel.
The man who’d been carrying her walks away to help prepare the ship, and Caitlyn’s mind immediately starts racing. They hadn’t thought to search her for weapons, and although her gun had been taken away, she has a small knife hidden in her jacket pocket that she hadn’t been able to reach before. If she could manage to slip it out and discreetly cut the ropes binding her wrists, she could… she could-
She could what? Jump overboard? Take her lot with the sharks? Risk getting shot the moment she’s freed herself? Caitlyn had no godly idea why Captain V had chosen to spare her life, but perhaps it was a blessing in disguise. She didn’t fancy the idea of spending any allotted time aboard a pirate ship, but as long as she laid low and didn’t give them any trouble, maybe she could buy just enough time to figure out a plan. They had to make port at some point. That could be an ideal time to make her escape.
It wasn’t a solid plan, but it was the only one she had.
The fog has started to clear around them, which Caitlyn would be thankful for, if not for the way she could clearly see the Enforcer being lined up for obliteration.
The large man from before comes up her again. “Welcome to the Gauntlet,” he grunts with a grin, grabbing her and slinging her over his shoulder once more.
Captain V gives the command of “fire” just as Caitlyn is taken below deck. The last thing she sees is the Enforcer sinking below the waves, and her own muffled scream rings through her ears.
* * *
Caitlyn estimates that it’s at least a few hours before someone bothers to come talk to her.
The now familiar heavy boots thump down the stairs to the brig, and Caitlyn hurriedly scrambles to her feet. She didn’t want to present the illusion of letting her guard down quite yet.
Captain V appears a moment later, slowly approaching Caitlyn’s cell, as if she were a wild animal that she didn’t want to frighten. In her hands is a bowl filled with what looks to be beans and a dried meat of some kind.
She comes to a stop in front of Caitlyn and holds up the bowl. “Dinner?”
Caitlyn lifts her chin a little. “I wasn’t aware the captain of a pirate crew concerned herself with the likes of kitchen duty.”
V smiles at the subtle dig. “Let’s say I’m trying to make a good impression,” she says, carefully leaning down and placing the bowl at Caitlyn’s feet through the bars. She glances back up at Caitlyn mischievously. “Is it working?”
“You’ve imprisoned me.”
The captain only grins some more, standing straight again. “So I have.” She takes a step away from the bars, one hand naturally coming to rest on the hilt of her sword, the rings adorning her fingers glinting even in the low light of the brig. “I don’t believe I ever caught your name.”
Caitlyn only glares at her.
“I’ll go first,” V says, unbothered by Caitlyn’s open hostility. She paces slowly in front of Caitlyn, like a hunter stalking its prey. “It’s Vi. Captain Vi to you, of course – respect is something I expect, you know. The whole Captain V thing is mostly a formality; can’t exactly go around giving my real name out to every ship I attack, now, can I?”
She turns back to face Caitlyn expectantly. Caitlyn continues her silence.
Vi gestures to her. “Now it’s your turn. I’d have thought you know how these things work, being from Piltover and all.”
Still, Caitlyn refuses to speak.
Vi sighs. “I could always force you to talk. Not my favorite way to get results, but hey-” she pulls out a pistol and casually inspects it- “it’s effective. Better yet, I could get one of the crew to come do it for me. My first mate loves interrogating prisoners.” Caitlyn suppresses a shiver at the dangerous smirk that’s flashed at her. “And she’s not nearly as nice as me.”
Caitlyn swallows, the action made difficult by the dryness of her throat.
“So.” Vi clicks the safety of her gun, resting it against the bars of Caitlyn’s cell. Not pointing at her, but still too close for comfort. “You got a name, poppet?”
“Caitlyn,” she answers hesitantly. “Caitlyn… Talis.”
Talis was the surname of her best friend back home, in Piltover. She hoped Jayce didn’t mind, but Caitlyn figured it was better using his name than telling this pirate that she was a Kiramman, better than announcing herself as the daughter of a governess.
Vi smiles as if she knows something Caitlyn doesn’t, raking her eyes over Caitlyn’s figure, taking in her once pristine Navy uniform: tall boots, white pants, and royal-blue jacket all now covered in soot and blood and whatever lived on the floor of this cell. “Well, it’s a pleasure to have you on board, Miss Talis.” She gestures to the bowl of food on the ground. “Eat up while you can. You never know when someone will remember to feed you again, and I’ll mostly likely kill you in the morning.”
Caitlyn makes a choking sound.
The Captain winks at her. “Wouldn’t want you dying on an empty stomach.”
And with that she’s gone, taking any trace of Caitlyn’s appetite along with her.
* * *
Caitlyn doesn’t get a wink of sleep that night.
Which is understandable, she thinks, considering she spends the entire night curled up on the mangy floor of her cell, counting down the hours she possibly has yet to live.
She can’t help but wonder what Vi’s preferred method of execution is. Will she be shot? Beheaded? Forced to walk the plank? Something even worse? Her mind conjures up endless scenarios, each one worse than the last, all the stories she’s heard of the Dread Captain V mixing together in a truly horrifying concoction of anxiety.
The sound of light footsteps down the stairs leading to her cell force Caitlyn to blink herself awake from the half-sleep she’d finally managed to drift into. She shakes herself into awareness and pushes herself to stand right as a girl appears in front of her. Twin blue braids hang down to her waist, matching her wide, clear blue eyes. Her skin is surprisingly pale considering how much time she must spend out in the sun, making her features look even more youthful than they already are.
She smiles coldly, menacingly, and Caitlyn wonders how old she is.
“Morning, toots,” the girl greets. “Sleep well?”
Caitlyn chooses to say nothing.
The girl shrugs, unbothered. “Doesn’t matter. Captain wants to see you. Says it’s important.”
The blood in Caitlyn’s body freezes.
So this was it. When Vi had said she would kill Caitlyn in the morning, she hadn’t been joking in the slightest.
Caitlyn forces herself to stand tall, raising her chin in a show of confidence. “I’m inclined to stay right where I am, thank you.”
The girl snorts. “Sheesh, didn’t know anyone could like the brig so much. But! Captain said you’d say something like that, so she also gave me permission to do a little…” She pulls out the pistol attached to her hip and cocks the safety, looking far too pleased by the opportunity. “Persuading.”
Caitlyn swallows, staring down the barrel of the gun pointed right at her.
“So,” the girl says, smile sinister and sharp, “care to talk to the captain now, toots?”
* * *
They find the captain standing by the plank, leaning casually back against the railing. Caitlyn takes one look at the deep, choppy waters and quickly averts her eyes before she can get sick.
“One prisoner, as requested, Cap,” Caitlyn’s escort says, giving Caitlyn a slight push in Vi’s direction. On the deck around them, crewmates bustle about, hauling ropes and shouting orders. Vi tears her gaze away from the organized chaos to look at them.
“Thanks, Powder,” Vi says. “I think Ekko needed help with the-”
“Already on it,” the girl – Powder – says, already moving away from the Captain. She flashes a thumbs-up over her shoulder and Vi only shakes her head before shifting her attention solely to Caitlyn.
“Sleep well?” Vi asks, surprising her.
“Fine,” Caitlyn lies, not without some hesitance.
“Good.” Vi nods as if this pleases her. She doesn’t say anything for another moment, studying Caitlyn for long enough that Caitlyn’s forced to stare back out to the ocean to avoid squirming. Was that a shark fin? Maybe it was just driftwood…
“You know your way around a mop?”
Caitlyn snaps her eyes back to Vi, once again caught off guard. “What?”
“A mop, sweetheart,” Vi drawls. “Or do they not have mops in Piltover?”
Caitlyn bristles a bit. “I know what a mop is, thank you,” she snips curtly. “And I do know how to use one.”
“Great,” Vi says, and suddenly a mop is being thrust into Caitlyn’s fumbling hands. “A flock of seagulls flew over us earlier. Shit all over the foredeck.” She pushes off the railing and pats Caitlyn twice on the shoulder. “Happy cleaning.”
With that she walks away, leaving Caitlyn to blink between the mop in her hand and the plank stretched out in front of her. When it finally starts to sink in that she is apparently not being killed this very moment, she glances over her shoulder, only to find Vi watching her from the other side of the ship. The Captain gives her a cocky smile, silver tooth flashing, as if sensing Caitlyn’s racing thoughts.
Caitlyn snaps her eyes forward again and tightens her grip on the mop’s handle, then hurries to find a water bucket.
* * *
For the next two weeks, Caitlyn’s life is devoted to cleaning the ship: scrubbing the deck, rails, and galley until her fingers are raw. It was a little humiliating, being subjected to such menial tasks (even gun inspection was a step up from this), but Caitlyn was certainly in no place to complain. She figured that if she kept her head down, her mouth shut, and did what she was told, she’d be more likely to survive until an opportunity for escape presented itself to her.
Unfortunately, prospects of escape seemed decidedly sparse for the time being.
Vi seemed to find amusement in ordering her around, always directing her to new tasks with a smug grin on her face. The rest of the crew held an obvious admiration for their captain, and even felt comfortable enough to joke around with her, but Caitlyn couldn’t say she felt the same affection for the woman. Which, she supposed, was unsurprising considering all the disgusting grime she’d scrubbed in the past few days.
Apparently, Vi had also taken it upon herself to personally escort Caitlyn to the brig each and every night. She would walk with Caitlyn down to her cell, lock the door, and leave, only to return a few minutes later with Caitlyn’s dinner. The first two days Caitlyn had stubbornly refused to eat until Vi was gone, but eventually her hunger won out after days of nonstop work, and she became unable to do anything but scarf down her food as soon as it was handed to her.
Vi would always stay with her while she ate, leaning against the bars while attempting conversation. Most of the time Caitlyn was unwilling to do anything but glare at her as she stuffed food into her mouth, but that never seemed to bother Vi, her grin only growing at the show of detestation.
How Caitlyn longed to smack that amused look off the Captain’s face. Sometimes she would picture it on the floor she was cleaning right before she scraped some holystone across it.
Once Caitlyn was finished eating, Vi would collect her bowl and cup and turn to leave, only to glance over her shoulder, and repeat the same words without fail:
“Goodnight, Miss Talis. Good work. Sleep well. I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.”
It took all of three days for Caitlyn’s anxiety to stop spiking at the words.
They make port twice, both times at tiny towns to do some trading. Caitlyn is left onboard both times, not confined to her cell, but still carefully watched and guarded, which leaves little chance to slip away in hopes that someone in the town would help her.
As another week passed by, Caitlyn figured it was time to accept she was in it for the long haul.
“Hey, swabbie!”
Caitlyn turns her head at the unpleasant, if not familiar, nickname and sees Mylo climbing down the rigging above her.
She hadn’t interacted with Mylo much, but he seemed to take particular pleasure in pointing out spots that needed scrubbing. From what she’d surmised, Mylo was amongst the lower ranking crew members, so it seemed he was eager to have someone even lower in the food chain that he could boss around. His typical position onboard was in the crow’s nest, due to his sharp eye and generally good sense of navigation.
Rumor was the actual reasoning behind his job was because he was so annoying that the crew liked to stick him up in the crow’s nest just to get away from him for a few hours.
Mylo lands on the deck next to her with a thud, stumbling a little before he finds his footing. “Some bird shit all over my favorite spot in the nest,” he tells Caitlyn, folding his arms over his scrawny chest, “and it’s your job to clean it up.”
Caitlyn looks uneasily up at the crow’s nest, situated near the top of the main mast dozens of feet in the air. She gulps.
“Are you sure you can’t do it yourself?” she asks uncertainly. “I’m sure you’d have a much easier time getting a bucket up there than I would.”
Mylo shrugs, waving the thought away dismissively. “Nah, you’ll be fine. Besides, I wouldn’t make you carry the bucket up there yourself. We’ll just haul it up with a rope.”
“Ah,” Caitlyn says shakily, eyes still glued to the dauntingly high perch. “Of course. That would make it very simply to climb up, wouldn’t it?”
“Super easy,” Mylo confirms with a nod. He collects a coil of rope and slings it over his shoulder, then grabs onto the ship’s rigging with one hand and beckons at Caitlyn with the other. “C’mon, swabbie.”
He starts to climb, getting a few feet up before glancing back and realizing that Caitlyn hasn’t moved an inch from where she stands, petrified at the thought of ascending so high. His bushy eyebrows furrow together and he climbs back down a bit, cocking his head curiously.
“What’s the matter? They didn’t teach you how to climb rigging on your fancy navy ship or something?”
Caitlyn swallows. “We had specialists,” she says. “People trained to get up to the crow’s nest. I never… well, I never had the need to.”
“Huh,” Mylo says, truly stumped by this information. A moment later, he brightens. “Well, no time to learn like the present!”
Over the next hour, Mylo shows Caitlyn the ropes (both literally and metaphorically) of scaling a pirate ship. He glides between sections with ease, reminding Caitlyn more and more of a monkey, while instructing her where to grab and what places made the best footholds. At one point, Powder – Vi’s first mate and sister, Caitlyn had learned – swings by with a few jeering comments about giants in the sky, but Caitlyn is too preoccupied with not falling to her death to really pay her any mind.
When she at last reaches the crow’s nest, Caitlyn looks away from the ropes in front of her for the first time since leaving the deck, and the view she finds very well steals the breath from her lungs.
Blue stretches out as far as she can see: deep blue waves meeting the light blue of the sky. The horizon spreads farther than she’s ever seen it before, spanning over miles and miles of nothing but the sea. From this high up, the sun feels warmer on her skin, and the clouds seem almost close enough to touch. A light breeze whips at Caitlyn’s hair, cooling her skin after the exhausting climb and making her feel like a bird coasting through the air.
It's enough to make Caitlyn close her eyes and take a deep breath in, taking in the sensations all at once.
She registers the distant sound of cheering, and when she peeks over the railing of the perch, she can just make out some of the crew clapping and shouting up at her, apparently excited by her accomplishment. Mylo, who is standing on the crossbeam beside her, joins in on the revelries, bringing his fingers to his mouth and releasing a shrill whistle.
Caitlyn can’t stop the smile that appears on her face. She waves down at the cheering pirates.
Even from this high up, Caitlyn can make out Vi’s cherry red hair. The captain is leaning against the ship’s railing, neck craned so that she can look up at Caitlyn. She’s not celebrating like the rest of her crew, but Caitlyn swears she can make out the faintest of grins on her tattooed face.
* * *
Caitlyn learns a lot over the next few weeks. Little things, here and there, tips and tricks that the crew casually points out to her that makes Caitlyn’s head spin every time. Quicker and easier ways to tie knots, how best to store gunpowder, the fastest way to sand down a splintered wood plank.
Truthfully, it makes her feel like she’s never been at sea at day in her life. The ease with which pirates conduct themselves aboard a ship.
Ekko, the captain’s second mate, shows Caitlyn the basics of navigation and steering after noticing her watching him curiously one afternoon. She’d been mopping up the poop deck and hadn’t really meant to stare at him while he was steering the ship, but she couldn’t help but take in the ease with which he shifted the large wheel, the confidence in knowing exactly which direction they should be sailing in.
When Vi emerges from her quarters half an hour later to find Caitlyn at the helm, hands gripping tightly onto the spokes of the wheel while Ekko grinned in approval, she only nods once – surprised, obviously, but not angry at the sight.
The large man who’d carried Caitlyn onboard all those weeks ago – Claggor, he’d introduced himself as – pulls her aside about a month after her capture, making vague comments about her clothes. When she wrinkles her nose in confusion, he gestures to her frayed navy uniform without a word.
And, alright, yeah, Caitlyn could admit it was time for a change.
It wasn’t abandoning your morals if your captors insisted, was it?
So, Caitlyn spends the next hour with Claggor and Mylo, rooting through the ship’s limited clothing supply. They all take turns pulling out various shirts and pants, holding them out for approval, receiving either grunts of displeasure or hums of contentment in response.
Eventually, they settle on a simple white shirt with billowy sleeves and a brown vested tunic overtop, paired with black trousers and boots. Caitlyn insisted on keeping her navy jacket over the top of the whole ensemble, needing the familiarity amidst all the change.
In the end, the newer, looser clothing was, admittedly, much more comfortable than the restraining material of her uniform.
When she sees Vi later that day, the captain once again gives her one of those firm nods, eyes tracking up and down Caitlyn’s form longer than usual before she turns on her heel and marches across the deck.
The encounter leaves Caitlyn feeling flushed, for some reason.
Slowly but surely Caitlyn starts to become more integrated with the crew, learning their names and their duties and their stories. There’s still a blaring distinction between her and them, of course, punctuated with the way Vi escorts her to a cell each night, but much of the time Caitlyn almost feels as though…
Well, it almost feels as though she’s among friends. Or, at least, people who act friendly toward her.
The shift becomes obvious just over a month into her stay aboard the Gauntlet.
“Turn here.”
Vi speaks as they reach the bottom of the first set of stairs leading deeper into the Gauntlet, interrupting their nightly trek down to the brig. A hand accompanies the words, a brief presence that presses lightly against Caitlyn’s side, nudging her in the direction of the corridor to their right.
Caitlyn glances over her shoulder questioningly, only to find Vi’s face a mask of impassivity. So, without a word, they make their way through the middle deck to where Caitlyn knows the sleeping quarters are. Vi slips in front of her as they weave through the maze of hammocks, dodging roughhousing pirates and already snoozing sailors, until they come to a stop by an empty hammock situated by the back wall.
Vi turns and looks at her expectantly. Caitlyn looks between the Captain and the hammock, trying to put two and two together. “What’s this about?” she eventually asks, cautiously optimistic.
“You do good work here,” Vi says, one hand coming to rest on the hilt of her sword. Not threateningly, not like the first time they met one another, but casually. Almost as if it were muscle memory. “Work well with the crew. You don’t complain, don’t make a big deal out of things, even when I can tell you want to.” Caitlyn ducks her head at that, choosing not to confirm or deny the claim. A small smile quirks at the corner of Vi’s mouth and she shrugs a little. “Figured the least I could do was give you a real bed so you don’t throw your back out anymore.”
“It’s still not really a real bed,” Caitlyn comments flippantly before she can stop herself. Her eyes widen at the rudeness of her own words, but Vi’s smile only grows. Still, Caitlyn stiffens, posture stiffening. “I mean- thank you, sir. Captain. I, um- you won’t regret this, sir.”
Vi rolls her eyes in amusement. “No need to get your panties in a twist, sweetheart. I’m only doing it because I’m tired of walking you all the way down to the brig.” She starts to walk away, but turns back around after a moment. “And by the way, I’ve told Jericho in the kitchen that you can get food with the rest of the crew from now on. Just to make things easier on that end, too.”
With a nod, she turns to leave again, but somehow the conversation seems… unfinished, to Caitlyn. When she realizes why, she can’t help but call out, “is that all, Captain?”
Vi faces her again, grin growing as she catches on to Caitlyn’s implication. “Nothing for now,” she says with an airy tone. “Try to get some good sleep tonight, though. Since I’ll still probably kill you in the morning and all.”
Somehow, that makes Caitlyn smile more than anything that’s happened in a month.
There’s a twinkle in Vi’s eye. “Goodnight, Caitlyn,” she says, then disappears into the maze of hammocks around her.
Caitlyn falls asleep that night to the sound of snoring pirates, comfortable and warm within her gently swaying hammock, a strange feeling of contentment rooted deep inside her heart.
* * *
Caitlyn’s boots land with a thud on wooden docks. The air around her smells of smoke and piss, and they’re only on the outskirts of town.
Heavier boots land behind her, and Vi moves to stand beside Caitlyn, inhaling deeply through her nose. “Breathe it in, poppet,” she says. “The faster you get used to it, the more you’ll learn to love it.”
A man flopped over the railing next to them heaves, emptying his stomach into the water below. It adds a new layer to the scent of the docks, and Caitlyn wrinkles her nose. Vi only grins.
“Welcome to Bilgewater.”
They make their way through town, although how Vi knows where’s she’s going is beyond Caitlyn. There appears to be no sensical road systems, no addresses, no means of consistent navigation at all, really. A little under a dozen crewmates join them, all looking eager to enjoy the pleasantries that only a pirate town can offer.
“One thing to know about Bilgewater,” Vi says leading the group down what Caitlyn thinks could qualify as a main street. “It is the most honest town you will ever visit.”
Caitlyn watches a woman reach into the pocket of the man currently burying his face in her generous bosom and pull out a coin pouch, and grimaces. “Somehow I seriously doubt that,” she says.
“I’m serious!” Vi insists, pivoting to walk backwards as she talks. “Everyone who comes here is here for one of three reasons. Money-” she stoops down to snag a handful of coins spilling out of a drunk man’s pocket, holding them up in demonstration- “sex-” she gestures across the street to a brothel, a pantsless man stumbling out the door- “and drinks.”
The crewmates behind her cheer jovially at the mention of drinking, some having gotten an early start before leaving the ship.
“And what are we here for?” Caitlyn asks. She was surprised she was here at all, really; surprised she’d actually been let off the ship. When they’d made port, Vi hadn’t said a word to her, only gestured for Caitlyn to step off the Gauntlet first.
“Business,” Vi says, shifting to walk forwards again, falling into step beside Caitlyn. “Which falls under the money category.”
“That’s a weak connection,” Powder pipes up, popping her head in between Caitlyn and Vi. “We’re going to be spending money, not earning it.”
Vi shoves her sister’s head away with a scowl. “Point is,” she says, “everyone here doesn’t care about appearances. No one’s trying to prove they’re something they’re not. Just dishonest people having an honest go at things.”
Two red-faced pirates come wobbling past them, and Vi places a hand on Caitlyn’s hip to pull her well out of their path. Her hand lingers only for a moment before falling away.
“And dishonest people are trustworthy because…” she asks, trailing off.
Vi grins toothily at her. “You can always trust a dishonest person to be dishonest,” she says. “And that’s more honest than anything I know.”
Their group continues on to their destination, their numbers becoming suspiciously sparser the longer they walk. Along the way Caitlyn steps in something she’d rather not inspect too closely, Powder swipes a jaunty hat off a lady passed out in a doorway, and Vi nearly gets in a fight with three perfect strangers.
By the time they make it to a small shop one the edge of town, the only people that remain in their group are Caitlyn, Vi, Powder, and Ekko. Vi pushes open the door and is greeted by a portly man with bushy sideburns who Vi introduces as Benzo. They start chatting about ship repairs, Powder outlining specifics of what needs to be done, and Caitlyn finds herself drifting over to the window, not really having anything to contribute to the conversation.
The store is situated on a slight hill, and from their position, Caitlyn can just make out the tops of ship masts peeking out above the roofline of buildings scattered below them. With a start, Caitlyn realizes that one of them may belong to honest travelers, maybe even some merchants from Piltover.
This was the escape opportunity that she’s been waiting for.
Caitlyn’s mind immediately starts to race, devising an escape plan before she can even blink. Surely the crew wouldn’t be engaging in business all night. They must be planning on visiting a tavern, a pub, a bar at some point; someplace where their attention will slip away along with their coherency, their ability to keep track of one lone prisoner eroding with each drink consumed…
So wrapped in her thoughts is she that Caitlyn doesn’t realize Vi has finished up their business until a hand claps against her shoulder, making her jump.
“Come on, poppet,” the captain says, slinging an arm around Caitlyn’s shoulders. She’s warm pressed against Caitlyn’s side, and her breath smells of rum, but not unpleasantly. “You look like you could use a drink.”
*
Hours later, Caitlyn sits at a table in the corner of a tavern, the people around her in the exact conditions she’d predicted they’d be in. Mylo had reappeared an hour ago with a black eye and a smile, only to immediately find himself brawling with a dozen scowling pirates over a spilled drink. Claggor and Ekko are in an opposite corner, swindling a handful of sailors at a dice game that Caitlyn’s never heard of before, the rules both simple and confusing.
And Vi sits right at the bar, two scantily dressed women clinging to her arms while she grins at them, says something to make them laugh, lifts a hand to brush a finger under one of their chins-
Not that Caitlyn is paying much attention to her. No, Caitlyn has much more important things to focus on, like nursing her drink and doing her best to guess which drunken sailor here has both a ship and the decency to allow Caitlyn safe passage back to Piltover.
A broad-shouldered woman in an elegant, dignified coat stands from her table near the door, drawing Caitlyn’s attention. Her companions rise as well, each dressed in equally fine clothing. Caitlyn has no idea how they haven’t been robbed naked in this town, but their obvious wealth and composure is enough for Cailyn to conclude that they must be from Piltover – or, at the very least, somewhat decent folk.
She stands to follow them, heart pounding in her chest. This was her chance, it was now or never. If she could just convince them to take her along, she could-
Raucous laughter erupts from one side of the room. Caitlyn turns to see Claggor slinging his arm around a bruised and grinning Mylo, both of them making their way to the bar for more drinks. Ekko sits in the background, a satisfied smile on his face as he counts his winnings. After a moment, he flips a coin to each of the people he’d been playing with, the sailors raising their tankards in gratitude.
More laughter sounds, this time high pitched, and Caitlyn turns her head to look at Vi still flirting with the two women. There’s a smile on her face, one not just born of lust, but of genuine enjoyment. She’s obviously interested in what the women have to say, leaning closer to catch their words in the loud noise of the tavern, a kind twinkle in her eye.
Caitlyn swallows, fingers fidgeting at her sides, and takes in the people she’s come to know over the past month. Suddenly she’s hit with a pang of longing at the thought of leaving them, of returning to a life of strict rules and guidelines, reputations and expectations.
She thinks of the view from the crow’s nest on the Gauntlet, remembers the feeling of flying with the sun on her face.
Her gaze lands on someone sitting in the shadows off to one side of the room, their blue eyes flashing beneath a tricorn hat. Their feet are propped up on the table in front of them, body angled right toward the exit. They make eye contact for a still moment, the chaos of the tavern falling away.
Powder’s gaze slowly drifts to the door, almost expectantly.
Caitlyn follows her eyes, looking at the door herself. She can still see the group of sailors, steadily making their way down the street outside. If she hurried, she could still catch them.
It only takes a second for Caitlyn to make her decision.
“What are we playing?”
Ekko grins as Caitlyn slides into the empty seat next to him. “You sure you up for this, Piltie?”
Caitlyn raises an eyebrow, grins back. “Try me.”
With a laugh, Ekko starts explaining the rules.
* * *
The clashing of swords rings out for only a few seconds before Caitlyn’s weapon clatters to the deck.
“Did your fancy navy training teach you anything?” Vi asks, mirth in her voice. Caitlyn groans in frustration, stooping down to pick up her sword for what felt like the hundredth time that afternoon.
“Admittedly, I’m much better with a rifle,” Caitlyn says, blowing a loose chunk of hair out of her eyes. “I’ve never had much of a knack for swordplay.”
“I’ll say,” Vi agrees with a nod. “I remember you taking out half a dozen of my men when we raided your ship. Could’ve sworn I felt one of your bullets whiz past my ear at one point.”
“That’s absurd,” Caitlyn replies dismissively. “There’s no way of knowing if that was actually my bullet or not. Besides,” she adds with a sniff, “if it had been my shot, I wouldn’t have missed.”
There’s some snickering from the few crewmembers watching them, and a grin stretches on Vi’s face. “Cocky,” she says. “I like that. You’re an alright shot, I’ll give you that. Let’s try to get your skills with a sword on the same level.” She raises her sword into a starting position, grin shifting into a challenging smirk.
“I’m an excellent shot,” Caitlyn counters, and raises her sword as well, crossing her blade with Vi’s. Her eyes narrow in concentration, meeting Vi’s own cool blue look of determination.
With the sound of metal against metal, they begin again.
* * *
“Hey, Caity.”
Caitlyn looks up from the spot she’s mopping and sees Powder walking towards her, heavy boots plonking across the deck.
“Captain wants you with Ekko making maps,” the younger girl tells her, coming to a stop in front of Caitlyn.
Caitlyn’s eyebrows lift in surprise. “Really? Me? Are you sure she didn’t mean someone else?”
Powder shrugs, already looking annoyed with the conversation. “Listen, I don’t pretend to know what goes on inside her thick head. Maybe she thinks you have good penmanship or something.”
“Whoa, wait, hold on,” Mylo, who’s been ‘supervising’ Caitlyn’s mopping from a nearby stack of crates, cuts in, pushing himself up from his reclined position. “She was in the middle of something! Who’s going to mop up the deck now?”
“Guess that’s your job now,” Powder says with a smirk, snatching the mop from Caitlyn’s hands and shoving it into Mylo’s arms. “Swabbie.”
They leave him as he protests, grumbling and swearing under his breath. Caitlyn shoots him an apologetic look over her shoulder, but it’s hard to keep the smile off her face as she goes to start her new job.
* * *
Caitlyn’s sword clatters to the deck.
“You gotta loosen up,” Vi tells her, sword swishing casually through the air as she circles Caitlyn. “You look like someone who’s never held a sword a day in their life.”
“It’s hard to feel loose when you shout out critiques every two seconds,” Caitlyn huffs, exasperated. “I’m too busy thinking about my form, and where my sword is pointed, and how I’m standing. It just doesn’t feel natural.”
Vi tilts her head, studying her for a moment before taking a step closer. “Maybe we should try a different approach,” she decides. She holds out a hand, taking another cautious step closer. “May I?”
Caitlyn shrugs a little, not exactly sure what Vi’s asking for permission for. When she doesn’t protest, Vi closes the distance between them, placing her own sword in Caitlyn’s hand and moving to stand behind her.
Vi’s sword is warm from being in her hand. The leather of her grip is soft, worn, well used.
“So you’re thinking too much.” Vi’s voice comes from behind Caitlyn, words spoken right beside her ear. “Let’s change that.”
A hand lands on Caitlyn’s waist, another coming up to hold the hand that’s gripping Vi’s sword. They have no audience today, but Caitlyn’s eyes widen and dart around the ship to make sure no one is watching them too closely.
“You’re right that I’ve been fixing your form too much,” Vi continues, “and it does need work, but form isn’t the most important part about swordplay. It’s feel.”
The hand holding Caitlyn’s on the sword starts to move, swaying with slow swipes and soft japs.
“A sword is no more than an extension of your body. You don’t need big, drastic movements to get it to do what you want. The smallest twitch of your wrist can be enough to level an opponent.”
Caitlyn can feel the ease with which Vi maneuvers the weapon, can feel the steady breaths she takes, and tries to copy them. The hand on her waist slides to her hip, gently guiding Caitlyn’s body with each swing.
Vi’s hips mirror the movement, pressing ever so slightly into Caitlyn’s from behind, and suddenly her sword form is the farthest thing from Caitlyn’s mind.
“Got it?”
Caitlyn’s eyes pop open- she didn’t even know when they’d closed in the first place. Vi is still behind her, still holding her with steady hands, and Caitlyn swallows, takes a deep breath.
Vi smells vaguely of ginger and salt water.
“I think so,” Caitlyn replies belatedly, voice scratchier than usual. A confusing mix of relief and disappointment fills her limbs when Vi steps away with a pat to her hip, the sword sliding out of Caitlyn’s hand as the pirate captain takes her place across from her again.
“Ready?” Vi asks, a quirk to her smirk as she watches Caitlyn try to compose herself.
Caitlyn scrambles for her fallen sword, exhaling in a cool stream as she raises her weapon.
“As I’ll ever be.”
* * *
An arm is slammed into the crate below it with a resounding thud, and the gathered crowd erupts with equal cries of enthusiasm and dismay.
Claggor smiles and raises his hands in victory while his opponent hangs his head in anguish. The show of defeat only lasts for a moment before the man perks up, shaking Claggor’s hand good naturedly and rising from his seat. Mylo climbs on top of the crate they’re using as a makeshift table and starts hyping Claggor up, daring anyone to challenge their reigning champion of the night.
Caitlyn watches it all from her hammock in the corner, eyes rolling fondly at the pirates’ antics.
Arm wrestling. A surprisingly entertaining activity that she’s never given much stock before. She wasn’t one for competing herself – that much became clear when Ekko slammed her hand down faster than she could blink – but watching Claggor take down challenger after challenger had turned out to be a pleasant way to spend her evening.
“My turn, big guy.”
A new voice speaks up, and a moment later Vi appears, stepping out from the crowd. The crew shouts encouragements as their captain walks over to the table, money rapidly moving around as bets are placed.
Mylo hops off the crate and makes a big show of dusting it off for his captain, exaggerating a bow before backing off.
Vi shrugs off her long red coat and swipes off her hat, hands them to some random crewmember for safekeeping. She starts rolling up the sleeves of her white shirt until they’re gathered just above her elbows, then she sits down and holds out a hand to Claggor, familiar cocky grin firmly affixed to her face.
With Vi’s sleeves rolled up, unruly bangs hanging in her eyes, Caitlyn finally admits to herself that Vi is… very nice to look at.
Claggor grips Vi’s hand, the two of them getting ready for the match. Vi’s thick forearm flexes in anticipation, and Caitlyn traces the black lines of tattoos that run along the back of her arms: the outline of bones appearing out of the edge of her shirtsleeves that connect all the way to her wrist. They extend farther on her right arm, spreading all the way to each of her fingers, a skeletal hand etched into tan skin.
Caitlyn swallows, mouth dry.
As soon as the match starts, it’s clear who the winner will be. Claggor puts up a good fight, but between his long night of arm wrestling and Vi’s bulging biceps, Caitlyn isn’t surprised when Vi manages to push his hand against the surface of the wooden crate.
Once again, cries of dismay and excitement rise up from the pirates around her as bets are won and lost. Vi stands up with a friendly pat to Claggor’s shoulder and raises a fist to those cheering her on, which only makes them cheer more.
Vi’s eyes dart around the room until they land on Caitlyn’s flushed cheeks, her dark eyes. Her grin stretches even wider, and she winks.
* * *
Swords clashing, feet moving, breaths panting. Caitlyn’s eyes narrow in concentration, sweat beading along her forehead.
Vi’s sword slides along Caitlyn’s, catches at her hilt, and Caitlyn’s sword falls to the deck.
Vi nods. “Again.”
* * *
Vi and Ekko lean over the desk in the Captain’s quarters, inspecting a map. Ekko explains landmarks and hazards to a nodding Vi, pointing so she can see where he’s talking about.
Caitlyn leans against a cabinet near the door, arms crossed, only half paying attention as she takes in Vi’s cabin. Windows take up nearly the entire wall behind the desk, showing off clear blue waters and gentle waves. Most of the room is dedicated as an office of sorts, chests full of maps and documents and valuable antiques. One corner of the room is designated as Vi’s personal living quarters, really only comprising of a small chest for clothes and a bunk tucked into an alcove.
Somehow, it all feels very humble for the most feared pirate captain on the sea.
Caitlyn is squinting to inspect a picture of what she thinks is Vi with a large, burly man across the room when she feels eyes on her. She turns her head and finds Vi watching her carefully, an unreadable look in her eyes. Ekko continues talking, oblivious that his captain is no longer paying attention, and Caitlyn holds her gaze.
Vi is the first to look away, and Caitlyn could swear that there’s the faintest hint of color on her cheeks.
* * *
Clang, step, thud.
Caitlyn groans in frustration.
“Again.”
* * *
Vi walks Caitlyn down the stairs toward the living quarters, as she’s continued doing for months for no apparent reason.
Caitlyn turns toward her captain, ready to hear the familiar words, the long-running joke between them, but instead finds an intense look in Vi’s eyes as she stares up at her, brow furrowed.
“Something on your mind, Captain?” Caitlyn asks softly.
Vi hesitates, battling with her own thoughts, before shaking her head with a quiet chuckle, both directed at herself. She grins – a small, secretive thing – and takes one of Caitlyn’s hands in her own, bringing it up to place a kiss against her knuckles.
Caitlyn’s breath catches in her throat.
“Goodnight, Miss Talis,” Vi whispers, then whisks back up the stairs.
Caitlyn watches her go until she’s out of her sight.
* * *
Clang, step, thud.
“Bloody hell.”
“Again.”
* * *
Music floats gently through the still night, a lone violinist crooning a sweet melody that puts smiles on the gathered faces.
Claggor leads Caitlyn carefully through a dance, smiles on their own faces as they avoid stepping on each other’s toes. The big man was surprisingly gentle, and very light on his feet; two things that Caitlyn hadn’t expected when he’d shyly asked for a dance a few minutes prior.
She feels eyes watching them as they dance, the rest of the small group electing to stay sitting while they enjoy the music.
She feels one set of eyes more keenly than the others.
When the song ends, the group claps politely, Claggor stepping away and bowing formally at Caitlyn, which makes them both laugh lightly. Claggor moves to reclaim his seat and Caitlyn almost makes to do the same, but she can still feel those eyes, knows that they haven’t strayed from her for one second.
As the violinist starts up another soft tune, Caitlyn pivots and walks over to the stairs leading to the upper deck.
Vi is exactly where she knew she’d be, reclining on the bottom step, elbows resting lazily on a higher step. She has the audacity to raise her eyebrows at Caitlyn as she approaches, as if surprised that Caitlyn has made her way over.
Caitlyn holds out a hand. “Care for a dance, Captain?”
Vi chuckles. “I’m afraid I’m not really the dancing type, Miss Talis.”
Caitlyn smirks, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me the dreaded captain of the Gauntlet is afraid of a little dancing.”
The pirates closest to them snicker, some of them oohing at the challenge. Vi’s eyes narrow, as if she’s displeased with the implication, but the smile tugging at her lips betrays how she truly feels.
Caitlyn wiggles her fingers a little, expectant.
With a sigh, Vi places her hand in Caitlyn’s and allows herself to be pulled out of her seat and into the middle of the deck. There’s some claps, some jests about Vi having two left feet, and Vi waves them off with a small smile.
It’s when they’re standing across from each other that Caitlyn realizes that Vi is actually nervous.
“I’ve, uh, never really done this before,” Vi tells her quietly, eyes not quite meeting Caitlyn’s. The normally cocky pirate looks remarkably bashful, a small blush coloring her cheeks.
Caitlyn quickly pushes away her surprise. “Well, lucky for you, I have lots of experience,” she says lightly, keeping her voice judgement free. She takes the hand she’s still holding and places it on her shoulder, resting her own on Vi’s waist. Vi’s eyes widen and her blush deepens at the contact, and Caitlyn does her best to hold back her amusement as she takes Vi’s other hand in hers again, the calloused palm fitting nicely against her own.
Caitlyn takes a small step closer, the tips of their boots brushing, and that smell is back. Ginger and wind and the sea.
The hand on her shoulder tightens ever so slightly, and Caitlyn meets Vi’s eyes. They’re dark, now, a dark gray that matches the sea around them.
Caitlyn smiles, squeezes Vi’s hand, and carefully starts to lead them in a dance.
* * *
Caitlyn takes two steps forward quickly, catching Vi by surprise as she steps past her guard. With lightning fast reflexes, Caitlyn brings her hilt down on Vi’s wrist, forcing her to release her grip, the sword clattering to the deck.
Caitlyn rests the tip of her sword under Vi’s chin, both of their chests heaving.
The shock melts from Vi’s face, giving way to a satisfied grin.
“Now that’s more like it.”
* * *
The night sky stretches above Caitlyn, only the sounds of waves softly lapping against the ship’s hull and the faint flapping of wind against sails to keep her company. It’s peaceful, comforting; the kind of alone time that one normally doesn’t find on a crowded ship.
Her solitude doesn’t last very long, but Caitlyn doesn’t mind.
“Can’t sleep?”
Caitlyn doesn’t need to look over her shoulder to know who’s joined her. “Claggor snores,” she says, eyes on the dark waters in front of her. “I’m surprised I get any sleep at all, really.”
Vi chuckles as she steps up beside her at the railing, hands lightly gripping the dark wood. They watch the waves together, not saying anything, content in each other’s company. The Caitlyn from three months ago would surely have a heart attack if she saw herself now.
“I couldn’t sleep after my first raid, either,” Vi eventually says, voice quiet so as not to break the calm that’s settled between them.
The air rushes out of Caitlyn in a steady stream. Her own hands tighten on the railing in front of her as her mind plays back the events of a few hours earlier. It hadn’t been a particularly difficult battle, just a simple raid on a cargo vessel not necessarily built for combat, but it had been the first battle that Caitlyn had experienced as a member of the Gauntlet’s crew.
The raid had been relatively harmless, too; they hadn’t even sunk the ship when they were finished – that honor was reserved exclusively for navy ships and rival pirates – but still Caitlyn had felt a surprising sense of… revelry.
Excitement.
Freedom.
She’d never expected a life of crime could feel so liberating, and the mixed feelings Caitlyn was experiencing in the aftermath weren’t due to feelings of guilt but rather a lack of guilt. Her morals and all the lessons she’d been taught on upholding the laws of the land were being turned on their heads, and all Caitlyn could feel was a sense of accomplishment over their victory today.
Maybe it had to do with the fact that the laws of the land held no real merit in the sea.
Caitlyn would have to think on that more.
“How old were you?” Caitlyn asks in place of spilling all her confusing thoughts. “When you had your first raid.”
“Twelve,” Vi says. Caitlyn’s eyebrows raise in surprise, and she finally turns to look at Vi.
“That young?”
Vi shrugs, looks at her out of the corner of her eye with a sly smile. “You could say I was born for this life,” she remarks wryly. “Either that, or I was just dealt a shitty hand at a young age.”
Caitlyn keeps her eyes locked on Vi’s face, settling in, feeling like there’s more to be said. She’s correct when, a few moments later, Vi continues with a distant look in her eyes.
“My parents died when me and Powder were young. We were left in the care of a man named Vander- a family friend. When he first took us in, we didn’t know much about him or what he did for a living, but he showed us the ropes soon enough, taught us the ways of the sea.” Vi pauses with a reminiscent smile on her face. “It wasn’t until I asked where he got all his money from that we learned he was a pirate.
“His crew was pretty tame, all things considered, always trying to keep things somewhat appropriate for the two kids suddenly onboard. They’d play games with us, teach us how to pick locks, tell us dirty jokes when Vander wasn’t looking. Still, we grew up fast, and over the years I steadily climbed the ranks until I became Vander’s first mate, and, eventually, his predecessor when he retired.” Vi jerks head in the direction of the flag waving high above them, at the cross-bone V stitched in white. “That’s where the whole Captain V comes from; a passing of the title.”
Caitlyn takes a minute to absorb Vi’s story, trying to imagine two young girls growing up surrounded by gruff, hearty pirates who would surely do anything to protect them. It all makes sense when Caitlyn thinks of the ease with which Vi carries herself around the ship, the ease with which she commands a crew. The perfect upbringing for a perfect captain.
“I certainly wasn’t born for this life,” Caitlyn says. Vi tilts her head for her to continue without a word, content to let Caitlyn say her piece now. “I was born for high society and schooling and politics; all things that were chosen for me before I knew what choice was. But I always had a curious mind, always wanted to learn more, see more, which is why I enlisted in the navy as soon as I could. I viewed it as an escape, a chance to see the world.”
Caitlyn huffs a laugh, looking down at where her fingers are tapping against the railing. “Imagine my frustration when the only exploring I got to do was the same routes around Piltovan territory over and over again. I’m afraid I was a little delusional as to what the military would provide for me.”
She looks back at Vi, sees the dark waves reflected in her eyes, and smiles. “I suppose I should thank you for taking me hostage when you did,” she says. “Otherwise I would have been stuck in the same maddening loop for the rest of my life. You gave me freedom, and I’ve already seen more of the world than I ever thought I would.”
Vi smiles and bumps her shoulder into Caitlyn, looking back out at the water. “My pleasure, Miss Talis.”
Caitlyn bites at her lip as a sudden guilt finally settles on her chest- guilt unrelated to the raid earlier. “Captain,” she prods hesitantly.
“Hm?”
“I’m afraid I haven’t been… completely honest with you.”
Vi looks at her, eyes curious yet strangely knowing. “Is that so?”
Caitlyn nods. “My name isn’t Caitlyn Talis. It’s… Kiramman. Caitlyn Kiramman.”
Vi stares at her for a long few seconds, face absent of a clear reaction. Caitlyn waits anxiously for her to say something, to get angry, to demand to know why she wasn’t honest with her all those months ago.
Then, Vi starts laughing.
Caitlyn furrows her eyebrows together. “What?” she demands. “What’s so funny?”
“I’ve known who you are this entire time, sweetheart,” Vi replies, pulling herself together. The pleased smirk remains on her face at the incredulous look on Caitlyn’s face. “You’re the spitting image of your mom, and she’s the richest person in Piltover. Any half-decent pirate would know who you are on sight. It’s why we originally took you; as ransom against your rich family.”
Caitlyn sputters for a moment, completely aghast. “What- how- why didn’t you tell me you knew? And why was I never sold for ransom?”
Vi shifts so that her back is to the water, elbows rested on the railing. “It was cute watching you try to play undercover,” she says simply. Caitlyn’s cheeks flush. “And it was fun messing with you, making you think we were going to kill you at any moment.”
Caitlyn huffs and crosses her arms. “You pirates,” she grumbles, “have an abysmal sense of humor.”
Vi grins wickedly. “And as for why we kept you around…” She shrugs casually, eyes looking Caitlyn up and down. “I don’t know. I guess you proved your worth. And the crew likes having you around.”
Caitlyn bites her lip and hums, recovering from the shock of new information. “So the crew likes having me around, do they?”
“Uh-huh,” Vi replies easily. Caitlyn takes a deliberate step closer.
“And you had nothing to do with the decision to keep me aboard?” Caitlyn continues, voice teasing.
Vi shrugs innocently. “It’s my duty as captain to do what’s best for my crew,” she says.
Caitlyn steps closer again, shifting to stand right in front of Vi. “I’m afraid you’re not a very good liar, Captain.”
Vi pushes herself to stand straight, moving right into Caitlyn’s space. “Maybe I’m just not very good at denying what I know I want.”
Their breaths are shared now, eyes hooded as they fall on parted lips. Caitlyn reaches up and slowly lifts the hat off of Vi’s head, bringing it down to her side. “And what do you want, Vi?” she murmurs.
The Captain wastes no more time, bringing one calloused hand up to hold Caitlyn’s jaw and pull her into a kiss.
Their lips meet over and over again, a sigh of finally escaping one or both of them as Vi deepens the kiss, tongue sweeping into Caitlyn’s mouth with a groan. Caitlyn’s free hand buries itself in messy red hair, eyes squeezed shut as she takes in the feeling, the taste, the sensation of this woman.
This pirate.
They both become aware of a ruckus coming from far above them and pull away, necks craning to see Mylo in the crow’s nest, screaming and whistling down at them.
“About fuckin’ time!” he shouts, laughing gleefully.
Vi gives Mylo a two-finger salute and wraps her arm around Caitlyn’s waist, leaning in to kiss her cheek. Caitlyn laughs brightly, wrapping herself around Vi’s shoulders in return, knowing with a certainty that there’s no where else she’d rather be.
Cassandra Kiramman sits at her desk in her office, fingers steepled together as she reads the report in front of her with a furrowed brow. Her husband stands at the window behind her, hands folded behind his back as he stares outside with a mournful expression.
Three months. Three months since their daughter’s ship had been plundered by pirates, sunken with its sailors left for dead. Three months of nothing but ill news and little hope that Caitlyn was alive.
Cassandra knew they should have never allowed her to enlist. Caitlyn was of age to begin shadowing her in her duties as governess. But Cassandra had been persuaded, enticed by the prospect of what military service would look like on Caitlyn’s resume, how it would give her a leg up when it came to making possible war time decisions.
Her daughter, of course, knew all the right words to say when convincing Cassandra of something – a fact that would have made her an excellent head of state.
There are two knocks at the door before Agnes, her private secretary, opens it, stepping into the room.
“Sorry to bother you, Governor,” the slight woman says, hands folded politely in front of her. “You have a visitor.”
Cassandra sighs, hand tightening around her quill. “I’m in no mood to entertain guests,” she replies curtly. “Especially not unexpected ones.”
Agnes dips her head in understanding. “Yes, I understand that, ma’am, but I do believe this one is rather important.”
Cassandra scowls. “How important could it possibly be?”
A second figure appears in the doorway, waterlogged boots crossing the threshold into the office. His clothes are tattered, faded, hanging scrappily off a thin frame. A scraggly beard now covers a once clean-shaven face, messy and unkempt after months of neglect.
In his hands is a familiar looking hat, once part of a Royal Navy uniform.
Cassandra’s eyes widen. Tobias turns and lets out a gasp.
There’s a grimace on Marcus’s face. He flings Caitlyn’s hat down on Cassandra’s desk.
“I know where to find your daughter.”