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With both captains absent for the night and the ship securely anchored with all sails neatly furled, an unusual sense of contentment enveloped the vessel. The remaining crew members had retreated below deck for what Evelyn could only describe as well-deserved snuggling. Unfortunately, this left her hammock out of commission for at least another hour. She was left on deck, alone with her thoughts, and the gentle rocking of the ship.
For the first time in weeks, her shoulder didn't torment her. Carefully extricating herself from the heavy straps of the makeshift sling, she experienced a near-blissful relief. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she took a moment to stretch, slowly straightening her arm over her head and executing a few winding circles to ensure the full range of motion. It felt invigorating to have both hands at her disposal, even if she refrained from reaching for her sword. For now, the simple pleasure of feeling a bit more like herself sufficed.
A sudden thought crossed her mind, prompting a quick cursory glance of her surroundings before she removed her head wrap. As it unravelled, the weight shifted on her head, and her long, dark hair flowed through her fingers. The longest section reached well past her shoulder blades, feeling as thick as curtains as it hung. Swaying gently from side to side, she allowed some looser knots to unwind.
Standing in the soft moonlight, she relished the freedom to breathe. "Slacking off, are we?" came Izzy's crooning voice from a short distance away. The hairs on the back of her neck tensed, and she spun around, her hair swinging sharply in a circle.
"I... I thought-" She began gathering handfuls of her hair to stuff back into the head wrap, but the first mate raised his hand, halting her.
"You don't have to do that," he said with a guilty tone. "I just wanted to say thank you for today. You were... useful."
Stunned by the compliment, she stammered, "I'm sorry?"
"You heard me," he barked sharply, making his way down the stairs. "I just wanted to say you did a good job."
The smug smile spread over her cheeks, and she couldn't resist teasing, "Did you just say that I did a good job?"
"Fucking heard me," he retorted. Even with his imposing leathers, and the sword, he looked so sheepish when he caught her eyes - he was still terrifying, but right now, it was somewhat muted. He looked like an ordinary man - well, an ordinary pirate anyway. "Don't make me regret saying it, Smith."
As he opened the door leading to the lower decks, a wall of noise greeted him - the moans and cries of various crew members echoing from below. The door slammed shut abruptly, and a flush crept up his neck. "What the fuck is that."
"I was about to warn you," Evelyn replied, waving a hand dismissively. "Let them enjoy themselves; you can address it tomorrow. It was their first raid today."
Hands let out a disgruntled huff, "When I was on my first raid-"
"I'm sure you were subjected to something truly awful, and you believe everyone should go through the same. I'm just suggesting that abuse isn't the way to get through to them. And no one is stopping you; you're more than welcome to break it up." She snorted at the thought of him trying to intervene.
With nowhere else to go, Hands strutted up the railing, choosing a spot a few posts down. The two of them observed the barge in the distance, slowly floating across the water. A distant song reached their ears, likely some musician left outside in the cold while others dined within. Eve turned to ask if Izzy understood any of it, only to catch him looking longingly at the barge, as if contemplating rowing away in the dinghy—a forlorn, despondent look she had never seen before.
"Ed will be fine," she reassured him, shuffling closer to whisper comfortingly.
At first, he looked offended, a sneer forming on his face. Then he quickly readjusted himself and said, "Blackbeard -" he corrected, "- will be fine. He always is. That's why he's Blackbeard."
"Of course, I'm sorry." The words sounded sharper than she had intended, but the intentional distance she put between them spoke volumes. Eve turned her attention back to the distant barge, allowing a moment of silence to linger between them.
As if breaking free from a trance, Izzy cleared his throat, attempting to regain his usual composure. "I assume they won't be done for a... while," he muttered, glancing away from the barge and back at Evelyn. His usual air of authority returned, though there was still a hint of vulnerability beneath the surface.
She nodded, "You'll know once they're done. Lucius loves a big finale."
Izzy grunted, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The moon cast its silvery glow on the water, creating a serene glow upon the soft, lapping waves. "You might have a point. Maybe a little carrot will do better than the stick. Still, don't go thinking I've gone soft. Tomorrow, it's back to business as fucking usual."
A playful smirk played on Eve's lips. "Wouldn't dream of it, Hands."
As they continued to watch the barge bob, the distant sound of the musician's song shifted again, this time with the lyrics somewhat sombre, lovelorn - though it felt appropriate in the moment.
The ship creaked softly, rocking gently with the ebb and flow of the tide. Izzy broke the silence. "You never did tell me how you ended up on this ship, Smith."
Eve turned to him, a thoughtful expression on her face. "A story for another time, perhaps. I just want to enjoy the quiet a little longer."
Izzy raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Quiet? With this crew? You must be joking."
"They aren't as bad as you think, they're just a little rough around the edges - like someone else I know."
"God, you do talk a load of shite." Something close to a laugh - her laugh - filled the air, and Izzy blinked in surprise. The unexpected sound echoed across the deck, cutting through the night's stillness. It carried a certain warmth that seemed to melt away some of the tension that lingered between them.
Izzy's smirk softened into a genuine smile, and he shook his head in mock disbelief. "Well, I'll be damned. Didn't think you had it in you."
Eve shot him a playful glare. "Just because I don't go around laughing like a drunken sailor all the time doesn't mean I'm incapable."
The first mate chuckled, an even rarer moment of levity. "Fair enough. I suppose I'll have to add 'sense of humour' to the list of your unexpected qualities."
Eve's playful expression turned curious as she raised an eyebrow. "There's a list?"
Izzy nodded, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Of course, there's always a mental list. Helps me keep track of the quirks and surprises. Keeps life organised, you know?" She chuckled again.
"So, what else is on this mysterious list of yours?" Eve inquired, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
Izzy considered for a moment, feigning deep thought. "Well, you've got the unexpected sense of humour, the uncanny ability to survive bullets, and let's not forget the hair." He gestured toward her loose, flowing locks with a smirk.
Eve rolled her eyes, feigning offence. "You have a problem with my hair now?"
"Not at all. Just another unexpected detail to add to the list. Makes you more interesting than most."
"How about this for an unexpected detail?" Eve walked to the centre of the boat, offering out a hand. She even went as far as sticking one leg out in front of the other and giving him a proper, respectful bow at the waist.
"What are you doing?"
"Inviting you to dance, Hands," she declared, her tone daring.
A chuckle escaped him as he eyed her, clearly caught off guard. "Dancing? In the middle of the night? You've truly lost your mind."
Eve shot him a challenging look. "Come on, Izzy. Don't tell me you've never wanted to dance under the moonlight before."
He hesitated, glancing around as if assessing whether anyone was watching. The distant sounds of revelry below deck reassured him, and with a smirk, he reluctantly accepted her hand. "You're mad, Smith."
She grinned, leading him into a slow dance on the deck of the ship. The night air played with Eve's hair, and the rhythmic creaking of the ship beneath them became the backdrop to their impromptu dance. As they twirled and stumbled, Izzy's lack of dancing skills became apparent. Eve couldn't help but laugh at his awkward attempts to keep up. "You really don't know how to dance, do you, Hands?"
He scowled, attempting to maintain some semblance of dignity. "Dancing was not part of the skill set I acquired."
Undeterred, Eve continued to guide him through the steps with a playful flair. "Well, lucky for you, I'm an excellent teacher."
Izzy grunted, clearly resistant to the idea of dancing. "This is ridiculous. Pirates don't dance."
Determined to break down his resistance, she was gentle but kept a firm grasp of his hand. "Come on, Izzy, it's not about being a pirate right now. It's about enjoying the moment."
Reluctantly, he followed her lead, stumbling through the dance with a mix of frustration and amusement. In a particularly clumsy moment, Izzy stumbled, and Eve, quick on her feet, caught him with a laugh. "Easy there, Hands. We're not trying to start a mutiny on the dance floor."
He scowled, but couldn't hide the way his pupils grew larger than dinner plates. As they continued, Eve decided to add a dramatic flair. With a mischievous smile, she dipped him backwards, the moonlight highlighting their silhouettes against the dark backdrop of the night.
Izzy, caught off guard, held onto her hand, his expression a mix of surprise and begrudging enjoyment. "What in the hell are you doing?"
"Just embracing the unexpected, Hands," she teased, holding him in the dip for a moment before helping him back to an upright position.
Their laughter filled the night air, echoing across the ship's deck. The atmosphere seemed charged with an energy neither of them had anticipated. The dance became more intimate, the laughter fading into a charged silence. At that moment, the line between banter and something deeper blurred. As they swayed to the ship's gentle rocking, the proximity between them increased, and a shared warmth enveloped them. Eve felt the magnetic pull, and she sensed Izzy responding to it as well.
Just as their lips were about to meet, the ship's door burst open, and the crew spilled out, boisterously emerging from their 'snuggling' session below deck. The sudden intrusion shattered the moment, and Eve and Izzy quickly straightened, a mix of surprise and frustration on their faces.
Hands, looking somewhat flustered, shot Eve with a sharp glare. "I want this deck scrubbed, it's fucking filthy. I should be able to see my face in the shine! What a pathetic excuse for a crew." Without looking back, he barged through the crowd for his room, leaving Eve somewhat flushed and cold as a frigid chill crept into the air.