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the-kr8tor · 1 month ago

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Make Waves

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 12.4k

Synopsis: The Mermaid's head proves to be a pirate's paradise.

Tags: No use Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing), pirate AU, Reader has nicknames, A sequel to BDAS, CW alcohol mention, CW food mention, CW suggestive, CW violence, CW guns, fluff.

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Beyond the Sea of Night Masterlist

Chapter 2 >>> Chapter 3

Balancing on the bowsprit has always been your one weakness. That and throwing a grappling hook, but you have no choice but to cross the beam when Hobie's on the other end and he hasn't had his breakfast yet. Stubborn as he is, he's way too deep in what he's doing for him to remember to eat. So it's up to you to keep the captain well fed, for your own sanity and his health of course.

The mermaid's head is getting closer by the hour, and the rest of the crew is slowly waking up to the smell of porridge, and land just a stone's throw away.

With both hands occupied, it leaves you little space to keep your balance while trying not to spill the cup of coffee in one, and in the other a bowl of rice porridge. You carefully walk over to Hobie, who's currently facing the sea. Always the daredevil while he teeters off the edge dangerously. His shoulders are slouched, quil scribbling loudly on the piece of parchment. You worry that he'll fall off the ship and into the waters. But you always worry whether he's near an open flame or just sitting with you in bed. You guess that's just a part of loving someone.

“I won't save you if you fall into the shark infested waters.” You say, still slowly making your way towards him.

He chuckles, looking over his shoulder as he gazes at you while the sun is in his eyes. “Between us, love, you look like you're the one who’s about to fall.”

You pause, huffing while your legs tremble. The waves lap at the bow of the ship, crashing against the wood that adds to your worry of falling. You've never been afraid of heights this much since you love climbing things, but the sea looks like it would swallow you whole if you fall in its uncharted waters.

“Can you help me please?”

“So you won't rescue me if I fall but I have to save you if you do?” Raising a brow and clicking his tongue, he smiles teasingly at you. “Double standards, love.” His actions betray him though as he stands up and walks effortlessly on the beam. “Is this for me?”

“No, it's for the bloody sharks, yes it's for you, Hobie. And as if I won't jump in after you.” Handing him the bowl, he tucks the paper in his armpit, and the ink and quill in his vest pockets. Surely smudging ink inside but he doesn't seem to care as he takes your hand and slowly guides you towards the end of the bowsprit. “Why do you keep hanging out here? You could fall.”

Watching where you place your bare feet with your shoes left at the deck safely. You decide to just slide your feet over, it seems easier than walking on what practically is a tightrope with its slim beam of wood that turns skinnier the further you walk to the end. It reminds you of walking the plank back then. But you continue, wanting to spend more time with him and seeing what he likes most.

“It's quiet ‘ere, ‘sides, the view isn't so bad either.”

“It kind of reminds me of walking the plank.” You tell him your thoughts like you always do, not intending for it to strike him.

With your words, Hobie turns around to face you, expression apologetic. “Shit, let's go back then, lovie.”

Your heart feels warm. “No, I was just thinking loudly, let's continue on.”

“If it makes you feel unsafe—”

“You're here, Hobie, I feel safe.” You take his cheek, feeling his scruff, smiling while the early morning sun peeks out from the clouds fully, drenching the two of you in sunlight. He's right, it's beautiful here as you gaze at him in the heavenly light. “And the view is perfect for eating breakfast.”

“Are you sure?” He continues to worry, hand still holding onto you, securing you beside him while you nod with a smile. “Tell me if it gets too much, yeah?”

“I will, come on, the porridge is getting cold.” Nudging him gently, he leans close and kisses the corner of your eye as you hum against the kiss before he pulls away and continues to trek towards the edge.

Once his foot hits the end, he slowly sits down, hand sliding from your hand to your waist as he leads you down on the beam. It takes a few seconds to find your balance, and once you do, you let out a sigh. Your position is mirrored with him as you face Hobie. He straddles the beam while you gaze at him with the backdrop of the mermaid's head. The black pearl swings against his clavicle, a mark of all the things you two endured together. His breezy tunic is unbuttoned, spider tattoo, and scars— some you've mended with your own hands are peeking out while the sun outlines his torso with its light. The bandana that he always wears even though you've told him a dozen times that he still looks handsome with or without hair, is tucked inside his back pocket, tufts of soft curls blowing in the wind. it's the best view you could ever afford. And it beats the view from the crow's nest, anything with him beats everything else.

Unbeknownst to you, he sees you in the forefront of the whole Osprey while the sunlight catches in your eyes. You look like you belong here, a bandolier strapped at your front with a silver octopus wrapped around the leather, one that he stole off a merchant ship a few months ago. You have a flowy top on that he has seen a hundred times on you before but always has him weak in the knees. Trousers that finally fit you, and the cutlass that swings from your hip— a proper pirate that belongs beside the captain on the ship he now calls home with you and his family in it. He couldn't ask for anything else, no treasure could compare to what he has now, what was once a life he once dreamt of in the tiny four walls of his childhood home. He could not ask for more. A pirate should ask for more, to satiate his hunger for more, more, more. But he's satisfied with this, just this. Everything good that happens after this is just a bonus.

“Which one is it, coffee or continuing to ogle me, hm, captain?”

A smile slowly spreads on his lips, silver piercings glimmering under the light as he snatches the cup from your hand. “Coffee first, then I'll make eyes at you again after.”

“Good choice,” you joke back, helping carry the load by taking the parchment from his arm while he balances the bowl on the beam. “Is this the pirate code?” He hums, taking a generous amount of porridge and blowing the heat away before feeding you the first spoonful.

You open your mouth as you receive the porridge. It needs more salt, you thought as you start to read the list while Hobie continues to share the breakfast with you. You see a lot of it is for the benefit of the crew more than the captain. Some are about the equal share of booty, a couple that says that everyone has a vote in all decisions, and one that reads that all in fighting must be resolved by arm wrestling. It even has a detailed line on what the punishment will be for a crew member who is found to be stealing from a fellow crew.

“‘Candles and oil lamps must be shut off before nine.’ I have a feeling that one is catered to me.”

“You tell me, scuttlebutt.” Nudging your dangling foot with his own, he finishes his breakfast and moves on to his cup of coffee while you roll your eyes playfully and continue to read. “D’you approve of ‘em?”

“Yeah…” you read the second to the last line, “‘Mutineers and traitors found will be keelhauled.’ What's keelhauled?”

Gulping down the bitter drink, he finishes it and neatly places the cup inside the empty bowl. “Let's hope you never get to know what that is.”

“Is it that bad?”

Hobie wants to spare you the gruesome details, so he sugarcoats it as much as he can. “We tie them by their feet and bound their hands together. After that we cover their head with a sack and…” the anticipation is killing you. “... throw them overboard while they're gettin’ dragged by the rope through the underside of the ship. We then pull them out, if they live after that we do it again.”

You shudder at the thought, imagining a beaten and battered body dangling on a rope. “Until they stop moving.”

“Until they stop movin’, yeah. If that doesn't happen after three times, they get shot.” He eyes the pirate code in your hands. The parchment flutters in the wind while he sees Gwen wave at him from his peripheral, he gestures to her, and she stomps her foot impatiently. “I'd take it out but it's a necessary evil so they won't even try.”

“No, I get it. It's a warning.” You nod, changing the grim subject as you smile sweetly so he could forget the previous conversation. Eyes flicking down to read the last line, your heart swells at the words written by his hand. “‘Any offence against the ship's doctor will be dealt with by the captain himself.’”

“That one's new.”

As you gaze up at him fondly, you find that he has the softest look on his face whilst he waits for your reaction. “You're too kind, captain.”

“Nah,” shaking his head, his smile stays, “you're jus’ too valuable to lose, doc.”

You chuckle, hitting his head with the parchment. “Fuck you.”

“You already di—” He gets a face full of the paper smacking him. Laughing above the rush of the wind, he holds onto the beam while his head lolls back in laughter.

Rolling the paper neatly, you hand it to him as his giggles get carried by the breeze. “So,” you clasp your hands together, inhaling the salty air. “can I swear now? Y’know, just get it done before the vultures could smell that I'm not officially one of them.”

Hobie snickers, “don't call ‘em vultures and you'll be fine. D’you want to do it ‘ere? We can do it in my quarters.”

“Hobie, if we do it there then we won't be getting out until we hit land.” Your eyes shine with mischief, one that he is familiar with as realization flickers on his face. Chin tucked on his clavicle while shaking his head, you see a rare flustered captain. “If you know what I mean.” Flicking his forehead, he gazes at you as you wiggle your brows.

“We jus' talked ‘bout keelhaulin’ and you're thinkin' ‘bout that?” Hobie can't help but smile lopsidedly at you like a lovestruck teenager.

Taking the empty cup, you sniff at it. “I think something's in the coffee, Hobie—”

“It's not the coffee, love.” Moving close, hand braced on your knee, and the other pushing down the cup, he grins wickedly at you. “I think it's jus' you.”

“Or…” you whisper against his lips, “I've been hanging around you too much.”

“Is that why you still have a separate cabin, hm? So that you don't spend too much time with me and infect you with my… rapscallion thoughts?” His breath fans your lips as he squeezes your knee, eyes never leaving your own.

“No, it's because…” you're at a loss of words as he inches closer to you, unable to let out your doubts. “...of my stuff.”

“You can put your stuff in my quarters,” nudging your nose, he inhales before brushing his lips against your own. “I made space for you already.”

“Wait, you did?” Leaning away, hands on his shoulders, you gaze at him lovingly. “Did you really?”

Hobie's eyes softened, hands reaching to hold your face, “‘course, love, why wouldn't I?”

“I don't know.” You shake your head gently, leaning against his touch while a dozen doubts curl around your mind. “Would I fit?” He knows what you truly meant.

“I love you, you do know that, right?” You nod, cheeks searing. He finally kisses you, brief yet the message is received as he leans away. “You always have a space with me, I'll always make space for you.” As he brushes away your doubts with another heavy kiss on your cheek, you melt in his arms.

“Alright then.” You say against his chest, cheek pressed on top of the spider tattoo, nosing his chest as your arms wrap around him comfortably. “I'll move in. Do you have a space for Jeremiah?”

Hobie furrows his brows, moving back to look at you. “Who's Jeremiah?”

“My skull.”

Hobie chuckles that quickly turns into a loud guffaw. You follow suit, laughing together with him right on the bowsprit. He pulls you in closer, accidentally bumping into the empty bowl and cup in the middle between you two that falls into the depths with a splash.

“Well shit.” He says, looking down while he still holds onto you.

“Good thing that wasn't the expensive one.” Now that there's no barrier, you scooch closer, and he's not in the habit of saying no to you so he hooks your legs, holding under your knees, and placing them around his hips while he cradles you in place securely. You run your palms all over his chest, unabashedly touching him. “What happens now?”

“We sail the seven seas and be pirates until we decide to retire, or the sea takes us together.” Kissing your temple, he lets you rest against him. We and together, casual yet affectionate words that have your eyes filling with gentle tears. Just you and him until the salty end. “Whichever comes first.”

“I vote on the former.” You hum, knuckles running along his spine that have goosebumps appearing on his arms. “Hey, Hobie?” Craning your neck up, he raises a brow and gazes down at you, chin to chin and mere inches from your lips. “Gwen looks like she's about to kill us—”

“Stop fucking on the bowsprit and get your asses over here!” Your guffaws echo above the rushing waves.

“We're not—!” He looks down at the position that you two are in, and your cheeks run warm, hiding your giggles against his bare chest. “C’mon, before she pushes us off.”

—

You line up together with Lyla and George right at the helm. The ship is just at the mouth of the Mermaid's head and you can already see the bustling port from where you stand. People from all walks of life running around, trying to manage the busy port. The first thing you notice about them is the various weapons on them— swords of different shapes and sizes, and guns that they proudly wear around their hips. You're definitely not in a normal port town.

The sound of rustling paper takes your attention away from the ringing bells at the docks. Hobie takes the parchment from his coat pocket, reading through it for the crew. He's now decked out to keep appearances— an appearance of a tough and rugged captain that helped take out the king's flame. He doesn't usually care about keeping that image, but with him needing new crew, he needs to show them a leader. He has a rough leather coat on that has the same colour as burnt amber around his body, coat tails fluttering in the wind. It's scruffed but that adds to the charm. There’s a tricorn hat with a bird's feather and braided leather wrapped around it that you lovingly placed on his head a few minutes ago— which is placed right under a red bandana you've tied yourself. He's still the feared red spider after all, even without a hundred crew behind him or without sailing the original people's revenge.

His boots thump against the floorboards, chains rattling as he goes towards the front of the line where Lyla stands as she yawns. He looks just like how you first met him, intimidating, and that has your heart pumping— in a different way than before.

“I already swore before, Hobie.”

“Different ship and captain, different code. Hand on the paper and swear.” Hobie says with a slight scoff, trying to quicken the process before James, Miles, and Yuri could drop the anchors.

With a sigh, Lyla places her right hand on the rolled parchment. “I honour the code of the bloodsail pirates.” She says in a monotone voice, matching Hobie's emotion.

“Good, still alive, right? Not that hard?” He sarcastically remarks.

As much as they are similar to each other, they seem to not get along as well as the rest of the crew. It's probably Hobie's way of hazing Lyla. Or he's just irked that they come from the same thieves guild that she never fails to mention to him. Maybe one day he'll tell you all about that part of his past, for now you’ll leave it in the past just like he has.

She rolls her eyes, “y’know I'm technically your senior in the guild—”

“Yeah, I get it, you're old.” Hobie moves on to George, who's clearly having doubts while Lyla gasps in offense, holding onto her imaginary pearls as she stares at you. You could only shrug with amusement. “Are you sure ‘bout this, George?”

“It's the only way I get to stay here, right?” He whispers, eyes darting over to Gwen, who's manning the helm.

Hobie glances at you briefly before turning back to the older man. “Never said that, mate. You can stay on the island as my crew until you…” He inhales, staring eye to eye with him, grey crashing against blue. “...decide. No swearin’ needed.”

George appears to think it through, but once Gwen looks over her shoulder with a somewhat knowing glance, he places his hand on the parchment. “I swear.”

Hobie gives him a curt nod and a lingering look before walking towards you, who's probably the only one who's smiling during the ‘ceremony.’ His back relaxes, sighing with a relieved smile. “Scuttlebutt, d’you swear?”

Without trepidation, you place your palm against the paper that's wrapped around with a lilac ribbon. “I swear, captain.”

A smile slowly spreads across his face, rolled paper softly hitting your cheek as he pats you with it. “You're officially a pirate.”

Pav's sudden burst of cheers from above the crow's nest has you and the rest of the crew chuckling.

As you squint from the glare of the sun, you see him tossing something from above. Hundreds of paper scraps fall from the sky, raining down upon the ship in a flurry of hearts and rectangle shaped paper. One falls on your head, and Hobie plucks it off of you, grinning at the piece as the two of you wave at Pavitr, who waves back and hollers below. With the impromptu celebration, it even lightens George and Lyla's mood.

“Always a ball of sunshine.” Hobie murmurs, twirling the heart around his fingers. “He's goin’ to have to clean this all up.” Joking, he tugs you beside him, pocketing the paper before placing a kiss right on your forehead.

“I'll help him, don't worry.” Reaching to poke the crease in between his brows, you press on it gently until he smiles.

“We'll help him—”

“I just fucking mopped, Pav!” James yells from the deck while he lowers the wheel of the first anchor with Yuri. Pav just chortles from the crow's nest, clearly having no regrets when he made the crew smile. Or at least most of the crew.

“Ready to go, love?”

“With you?” He nods. “Always.”

—

The loud thump of the wooden ramp against the dock has your nerves lighting up again. It's been months since you've seen land, and now you're about to set foot in one, one that is strange and new to the likes of you. Pursing your lips together, you let James and George pass first with the rolling barrels stamped with your family's insignias as an excuse to not leave the ship just yet.

The Mermaid's head looks exactly like you expected it to be. People milling around the place, selling wares right from their back, and workers screaming and trying to get ahead of shipping schedule. You've been to a lot of port towns before, but none of them could compare to what you're seeing now, it's as if every pirate in the world congregated in the same place. There are hundreds or even thousands of them walking about the muddy and sandy streets of the Mermaid's head.

Houses and buildings are built around the port, various signs of business on display— a jeweller, a tavern, a warehouse and even a stable with horses and carriages. You have no idea how big even the island is, but from where you first saw it at sea, it seemed smaller. But as you now stand on the bow of the Osprey, looking over the chaos, the size could even rival the capital’s. There are stone roads all weaving and slithering around the cramped alleys of the town, oil lamps swinging on each corner that are protected by a steel column that looms above the street and a metal cage around the lamp itself. And rows upon rows of buildings— both made of wood and stone. Instead of the open sky, you stare above you and see the inside of the Mermaid's head. A cavernous roof of boulders and rocks shaped by the tides itself. A terrifying thought comes to you, that it could collapse and flatten everything, but if it has survived this long, then it'll continue to do so even after you're long gone.

As you look further into the island, the rocky roof stretches as far as it could until a canopy of trees of all kinds shields the busy place. Dappled sunlight passes through the gaps of leaves and branches, a reprieve from the dankness of the streets. You notice children running around, playing with toy swords and singing sea shanties.

Smiling, the hair on the back of your neck stands, smile wavering. And as you slowly turn towards the cause, you see an old man hunched behind a wooden barrel. His eyes are almost white in the dim light, wrinkled hands gripping the barrel as he stares at you heavily.

“Thinking of how you could burn this place?” Gwen sidles up next to you, and as you turn back towards the man, he's gone like the wind. “I was just joking.” Her brows knit together. “You alright?” She grasps your arm, following your line of sight. “Something wrong?”

“There was just this old man staring at me.”

“There are a lot of weird old people here.” She chuckles, taking your attention away from the empty space with a squeeze on your arm. “We call them sea crazy. You don't become that old without surviving horrors.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Exhaling out, you smile at her. “Penny for your thoughts, quartermaster?”

“Nothing much.” Releasing your hand, she leans against the railing and watches Miles haul crates towards the docks. “The streets here are called the shambles because of the rocky roads. Notice there's not a lot of chimneys?” You nod, “Fireplaces are regulated here since the canopy could easily catch fire, same goes for the ships. So if you want to cook or warm yourself up, you have to do it at a designated area or in one of the taverns or inns that are allowed to have one.”

“Mm-hmm.” You pretend disinterested but in truth you found everything fascinating. “What's going on between you and Miles, hm?” Nudging her, you wiggle your brows teasingly.

Gwen manages a flustered smile. “Stop, I literally gave you knowledge and this is how you repay me?” she gently pushes you, earning a chortle from you. But when you don't relent by staring her down with your dancing eyebrows, she sighs and puts her chin on top of her palm, soft blue eyes staring at Miles whilst he carries two sacks in one arm effortlessly. “We're good.” She says, hoping to satisfy your curiosity. But you don't ease up as you poke her bicep annoyingly. “Alright, fine! We're really good! He told me that he loved me—” Your squeal has her eyes rolling away as she tries to move away from you but you grab her arm, hugging her.

“Alright, I'm sorry! I won't ask anymore! Just stay for a bit.” You tap your head against hers.

With a sigh, Gwen walks back towards the bannister. “I don't ask about you and Hobie, doc.” She pointedly glares playfully at you.

“I know, gossip isn't your thing—”

“No, it's because you two leave little to the imagination.” Grimacing, she pinches your arm, earning a huff from you.

“Well I was just concerned, you know? I don't want to see any infighting.” You lie through your teeth as you side glance at her.

“Sure, sure, infighting, and it's not because you want to eavesdrop on our relationship.”

“Did you at least say it back?”

“Fuck you!” She guffaws, and the crew looks up at the two of you briefly with a shake of their heads and subtle smiles. “Seriously?”

“Well, did you?” You eye her, nudging relentlessly until she nods slowly. “I knew it! Oh young love!”

“Yeah, yeah shut up or I'll start asking about your nightly visits to the captain's quarters.” Gwen places her palm atop your face as you laugh against her.

“Fine, fine I'll stop.” Waving her hand away from your face, you two fall into a comfortable silence.

Seagulls cry above, perching themselves on top of the ship's mast. People yell along the shambles, and the world continues to turn while you and Gwen take a pause, just savouring each other's company.

“I think there's something going on with my dad.”

You crane your neck so fast to face her that there's an ache on your nape. “Gwen—”

“He's planning on leaving, isn't he?” Her baby blue eyes gaze at you softly, eyebrows furrowed as she grasps your hand. Squeezing her, you encourage her to continue. You look at her with a strained smile. “I don't blame him. We haven't seen each other since I Ieft. That makes it almost seven years now. It's been so long, but he's still my dad and I know my dad—” pausing, she grimaces. “and that probably sounds fucking horrible to you.”

“It's not, you had every reason to do that.” You twist in place, hip leaning against the railing to look at her better. “It's good that you still acknowledge that he's your father. It's a sign that you still love him.”

“I was just a kid. A shitty fucking kid who left her father to the wolves.”

“Still, just a kid who wanted to run away from it all. We have this… innate preservation to keep ourselves safe. And you were doing just that. You were afraid, Gwen.”

She nods, eyes glossing over. “I should've helped him at least, got him away from the cards but after mom— he couldn't bring himself to leave the betting table.” Wiping at a stray tear, she continues. “The lords took everything from family portraits to heirlooms, even my ballet shoes. Then our house. Maybe I should've stayed, but if I did, I wouldn't be here, I wouldn't have met him.” Glancing at Miles on the deck, he notices Gwen's eyes on him and he waves at the two of you with a smile. She smiles back before he returns to his task. “But I don't regret it, even with everything that happened. It's still a life well lived than shoveling shit at the stables to pay his debts.” Turning back to you, she inhales deeply. “I'm sorry for laying all this on you.”

“Lay it all on me, Gwen.” You joke, half genuine, opening your arms and surprisingly, she hugs you with her chin atop your shoulder. “You did everything you could, kid.”

“Thank you,” she whispers your name kindly. “And don't call me kid.” Squeezing you tightly, she whispers the words in a threatening manner that has you giggling. After a bout of chuckles, she relents. “Really, is it bad that I'm mad at him? He should've told me, I guess.”

“Not really that bad, I would be too.” With a chuckle and a pat on her back, she releases you, a bit reluctantly on her part.

“Yeah, I guess you're right.” Holding you at arm's length, she sighs loudly. “Maybe him leaving would be a good thing.”

“How so?”

“One less person to worry about on board.”

Craning your head at Hobie while he's carrying two sacks over his shoulder, it's as if you're immediately gravitating towards him, already finding him within the crowd of pirates. Then Pav and Miles stand beside him, chatting about something while Yuri and James walk past them with crates on each arm. Lyla crouches near the water, eyeing a frog floating beside the dock.

“Yeah, one less worry.”

“Does Hobie know about dad?” She pats your elbow.

“Yes, why? Worried that he'll throw him overboard?”

“No,” chuckling, she leaves the railing to help with carrying the bounty. “Is he worrying that I'll leave?”

“You know him well.” Smiling, you place your hands on your hips. “Yeah, he is.”

“Keep him guessing then, it's my revenge for all the shit he pulled.”

You can't help the grin on your face. “So you're staying then? And giving your captain stress?”

“Yes on both, landlubber.” Before she continues walking down the steps, she turns back to you. “And don't worry either, you can't get rid of me that easily.”

—

Placing the last crate on top of the other, you rub the sore part of your leg, neck stretching from the labour. A sudden yet familiar hand grasps at your nape, kneading it gently that has your strained muscles relaxing.

“Better?” Hobie whispers against the shell of your ear, other arm wrapped around your front protectively. Not even the hundred strangers milling about the port could stop him. He doesn't care when his blunderbuss and cutlass could do the talking to all the wandering eyes.

“Much.” Sighing, you lean against his chest. “So, what do we do with all of the loot?” You ask, head turning to face him as he gazes at you tenderly. “Sell it to some one eyed pirate with a pet parrot?”

Hobie snorts, hugging you closer as if there's still space between you. “We have a mate ‘ere who knows all the best places we could get a better price for these.” With the tip of his boot, he kicks the crate lightly. “Maybe even trade some for chocolates.”

“Oh, I'd love that. I miss hot chocolate.” Your wandering hands rub all over his arm as he smiles against your hairline. “And then what?”

“We use some of the coin to get our ship in better battling shape. Expand the deck by taking out a couple of balconies, get some red sails and—” he pauses then blinks and turns fully to you. “Are you sure you're alright with alterin’ the Osprey?”

“What's mine is yours, Hobie.” You peck his jaw, smiling against his skin. “Like I've told you a dozen times. You can do whatever you want with the ship.”

“Practically married, eh?” He stares at the man-of-war, expression faltering for a second. “It's your family's.”

Kissing him again until the crease in his forehead softens, you take his chin and turn him to face you. “You and the bloodsail pirates are my family now. If renovating the ship increases our survival out there then do it even if you have to break a few balconies and sell a bunch of plates. Do whatever it takes to keep our family safe.”

Hobie smiles, grey eyes twinkling as leans further to your lips. “Jus’ say the word if we're takin’ too much.”

“I won't but alright—”

His lips barely grazed yours when a booming voice echoes out. “Captain Hobart Brown!”

A chorus of swords are unsheathed, and a rouse of guns clicking in place as the crew behind you takes aim at the source of the call.

Hobie lifts up a palm behind him while he twists you around and shields you as he steps in front of your body. “What?”

The man with the handlebar mustache gulps down, hand hovering above his gun. He looks far too young to even have a moustache. “Captain Thorpe calls for you to meet him at the Tempest.”

“Who?” Hobie sucks in his teeth, still casual as you feel for the pommel of your cutlass.

The messenger grimaces but hides his annoyance. “Captain Thorpe Heinrick.”

“Ain't ringin’ any bells, mate.”

“Captain Thorpe ‘tide turner’ Heinrick—”

“Ah, that bloke!” Hobie has a shit eating grin on, hands flipping away his coat and places both hands on his belt that carries his blunderbusses, brandishing it to the man. “Maybe later.” With a simple look thrown at Gwen, she tells the others to back down and lower their weapons to the relief of the stranger. “As you can see, bit busy ‘ere.”

“But—”

Hobie shoos him away with a gesture, adding to the man's annoyance but walks away after a few seconds of thinking.

“What does Thorpe want with you?” Miles walks up to you and Hobie, still eyeing the retreating man.

“Fuck if I know.” He shrugs nonchalantly.

“Who's he?” You ask, heart steadying after the stare down.

“Jus' some bloke, c’mon and let's sell this bloody thing so we can get out of ‘ere.” Hobie waves the previous encounter away and throws his arm over your shoulders. “I'll introduce you to a mate of the bloodsail pirates.” You smile excitedly at that. “Lyla, George can you both guard the loot while we find a place to sell it?” George nods and sits on a crate while James breathes a sigh of relief that he wasn't given the duty.

“Sure—” Lyla starts.

“And no sleepin’”

“...fine.” Lyla huffs on top of a barrel, sitting cross legged. “Bring me a pastry, Yuri!”

Yuri gives her a thumbs up before excitedly running off.

“Where are we going exactly?” You ask Hobie as he leads you towards the inner streets of the Mermaid's head while the crew tags along, chatting happily amongst themselves.

“To the iron heart tavern, lovie.”

—

“So this is the place?” You ask Hobie beside you, squeezing his hand as you look up at the building that looks like it's about to fall from how tilted it is.

The logo of the iron heart tavern swings in the breeze, and inside is the rowdiest tavern you've ever had the displeasure of hearing. And you've been to a lot of taverns before. It's all brick and stone, damp with greenery slithering across the surface. The windows are long fogged up by the warmth inside, and the silhouettes of the patrons inside dance along the glass.

“Yeah,” Hobie grins, seemingly excited to see the place again. “This was our place whenever we port ‘ere. And Riri’s grandfather, a nice bloke, helped us get our sea legs out there.”

Yuri suddenly appears behind you, arms thrown around yours and Hobie's shoulders. “Hobie here is being too generous, this place was our home.”

“How so?”

“Lived, worked here—” a glass smashes inside as Miles doesn't even wince at the sound while he continues. “And Riri used to be a bloodsail pirate too, before her injury and retirement.”

“What happened to her?”

“Always the curious one, eh, landlubber?” Yuri shakes you in place and releases you as she squeezes in between you and Hobie to get inside the tavern. “You'll see!”

As you glance at Hobie, who just shrugs with a smile, you enter the place right after Yuri.

“Hey, Ri—!” Yuri dodges an oncoming axe thrown right at her head, it embeds in the wood beside her and you swear you almost saw the afterlife when it whizzed past you. “Is this how you welcome honoured guests now?!” She nonchalantly continues on, arms spread about as she yells above the crowd.

“You still owe me coin, Watanabe!” A woman tending the bar yells above the rowdy commotion of the tavern, hand holding onto another axe, ready to be thrown.

“Fuck me!” You grasp your chest, staring at the shiny axe beside you.

“You alright there, love?” Hobie asks, half concerned, half amused. “She does that.”

“Yeah, apparently, shit.” You heave, and Pavitr pats your shoulder, giving you an apologetic smile.

“She does that.” Pavitr repeats with a grin. “Don't take it the wrong way, and she never misses so that was on purpose. I think.” Pav says before joining the rest of the crew at the bar, all happily chatting with a brunette.

“Yeah, I heard. She's got great aim, I guess.” You sigh, hand still on your chest while Hobie yanks the axe out of the wall and places it beside his cutlass on his waist.

Hobie sighs, eyes soft as he brings his palm right above your heart, kneading gently. “If you give her your puppy dog eyes she might give you a free pint.”

“I'll keep that in mind. And that only works with you.” With a chuckle, you take his hand and place a kiss on the back of it before walking towards the bar, hand in hand with him. “Come on before she throws another one at us.”

You and Hobie navigate the rowdy tavern, dodging arms and glasses thrown across the room while a jaunty tune is playing on the piano beside the bar. The walls are all brick and mortar, old enough to have the wooden pillars buckling under the weight of the whole place. Each corner has a drunk pirate muttering sea shanties or admiring an anchor hanging from the wall. The whole place screams of pirates, from the jolly roger flag tacked above the bar, the classic skeleton and crossbones, to the tables made from various items from a ship— a giant wheel, a barrel and even a crow's nest that's turned upside down. Even the air smells of the salty sea with ale and rum filtering through the heavy air.

As you look up, you see a shark hanging from the ceiling, perfectly preserved with its maw opened and eyes open. It's a pirate's tavern alright, and they're not hiding their affiliation at all with the countless paintings and drawings of ships, the sea and islands all framed on the walls. There are even portraits of entire pirate crews and infamous pirates on the walls, their faces easily recognizable from when you saw them on bounty posters back in the day.

“Well, well, well what do we have here?” Riri eyes you down and you lift your chin up, not folding under her gaze. “The bloody duchess I see.” She glances at Hobie as you raise a brow at the title. “And the red spider, good to see you still alive, Hobie.” Flicking her eyes atop his head, she winces. “Can't say the same thing to your hair though.”

Hobie scoffs but his smile stays. “Good to see you too, Ri.”

“It's nice to finally meet you, Riri.” You smile, sitting in between Hobie and Yuri. “What's with ‘the bloody duchess?’”

“That,” she chuckles as she hands each of the crew their pints. James groans when the amber liquid hits his lips, Yuri licks the foam off the top of her glass, and the trio settle with clinking their glasses against each other before downing their drinks. “—Fucking hell, you're all thirsty.” Handing you a pint and a rum for Hobie, she continues. “Heard it from everyone, you're famous around these parts, you know?”

“Really,” you wrap your hands around the lukewarm glass, brows furrowed as you question her further. “Why? And why that title?”

“Sorry, about her, Ri.” Yuri says, wiping the top of her lip with her sleeve. “She's one of those people.”

Riri nods in understanding, hand patting Yuri's on the table. And you're scrunching your face at Yuri while the rest of the crew and their captain laughs against the mouth of their glass. You nudge Hobie with your elbow, and he splutters out some of his rum.

“Right, well, to feed your curiosity,” Riri puts her elbows on the counter, soft amber eyes that remind you a hearth stares you down with a smirk playing on her lips. “you did save the red spider from execution while wearing a bloody wedding dress right in the middle of the capital.” She flicks your glass, and the sound reverberates around your hands. “Add the fact that you did it in front of all the royals and navy. Word around here is that you killed Mathias too. Well, you're a fucking icon here, duchess.”

Hobie places his arm over your shoulders, proud of you as he pulls you in for a quick hug. “She's good, ain't she?”

“You sure do know how to pick them, captain.” She raises her own glass, filled with the same amber liquid, and Hobie clinks his drink with hers. You still have no idea how to feel about that title the people seemed to bestow upon you.

“Where's your grandfather?” Hobie asks, taking a sip and giving Riri back her axe, to which she hums in thanks.

“Dead.” Everyone stops and stares at her. “Dead on his feet, come on.” Riri laughs at their expressions while Hobie and the crew sighs, relief evident on each of their faces. “He's asleep upstairs, it's his age, you know. I'd wake him up but he'll just be cranky. So, what brings you all back here in our part of town? I heard about the shit you all pulled in the capital, making good waves throughout the land based on news around here.”

“Loot,” Hobie takes a final sip, emptying his drink. Riri gestures to refill it but he places his palm above the glass, indicating that he has had enough to drink. You can't help but pat his back for his restraint as he answers with a squeeze of your thigh. He's lessening his alcohol intake after you told him that it's not good for his liver in the long run. “You always know the best place to sell ‘em.”

“Ah, maybe this time you can pay your debt here, hm?” Riri wipes some glasses clean, and Hobie silently looks at his glass, avoiding Riri's shaking head teasingly. “The Jefferson's are still good for their money, better than our old usual. Or you could go to Chen's but that's across the island, but they still got Jefferson beat.”

“What d’you lot think?” Hobie turns towards the crew, asking for their opinion before handing Riri a coin for the information.

“Chen's,” Gwen and Miles say simultaneously as Miles subtly nudges her with a shy smile.

“Jefferson's.” James sighs, “my arms are tired, Hobie. I can't haul that stuff across the island!”

“I gotta agree with James,” Yuri adds, asking for another drink that Riri doesn't provide until Yuri bats her lashes that still doesn't work on the former pirate; so she shows her payment that she reluctantly gives to Riri's waiting hand. “Besides, that place is new, we don't know them.”

“Pav? Love?” Hobie waits for yours and Pavitr’s opinion. “We're two for two.”

“The second one.” Pav says while digging through the peanut bowl for dried raisins. “If it means we get more coin for doc's stuff then we go there.” You answer him by dragging a bowl beside Hobie that looks like it has more dried raisins towards him. Pav thanks you with a smile.

The rest waits for your opinion. Before you speak, you gulp down your drink and turn towards Riri, who has an impressed smile on her lips. “What do you think of Chen's? You've known them longer than us.”

“I once sold them a white gold brooch that they bought almost twice the price the Jefferson’s gave me.” She shrugs, refilling Yuri's third drink and fixing her stance as she shifts her feet. “They're new, yes, but that means they're trying to get ahead of the competition and other fences. They're reliable, and all you really need to do is haggle. That and you have to haul all your shit in yourselves.”

“Is there a chance that you have a wheelbarrow? Or better yet a cart with a horse?” You ask her, testing your luck with the new acquaintance.

A smile spreads across her lips, “we have both.” A round of sighs echoes around the bar. “You'll have to drive it yourselves though, I'd help, but y’know. Shit is hurting again.” She gestures towards her leg, and with your curiosity, you take a subtle peek, finding that she has a peg leg made of steel and wood. “Not bad, right?”

“Yeah, nice hardware.” You match her smile. Suddenly getting an idea, you rummage through your bag, finding the jar of ointment that could help ease the ache that she must be feeling. “Here, I've made extra a few days ago, it's for the pain from the prosthesis.”

Her eyes shine, slightly surprised by the gift. “Thank you, I appreciate that. I actually just ran out of these.” Opening the jar, she takes a sniff, chuckling at the familiar herb and menthol smell. “It's the same one, damn, thanks again.”

You feel Hobie's eyes on you, hand still gripping your thigh as you see him smile from your peripheral.

“No problem, take it as payment for letting us use your cart and horse.”

Riri leans against the shelf filled with liquor, hands rolling the jar around her palms. “Well, you surprised me, duchess. I haven't even let you use it, but since you're so nice.”

“Thank you, gorgeous!” Yuri exclaims, you have no idea if she's thanking you or Riri. She's probably already drunk after her fifth pint. “I'll drive.”

A collective “No!” Echoes out while James grabs Yuri by her arm.

—

You decide to wait outside the fence’s place while Hobie and the rest haggle their way into wealth. It took another ask for Hobie if you're alright with them selling things from the ship, to which you said yes once again. You're waiting by the horse, a big guy named Stark, who likes apples as he munches on the one you gave to him, courtesy of the fruit stall next door.

The ride to the other end of the island was rough, you had to go through the shambles and end up literally at the tail end of the island. With the roads being made of blemished cobbled stone, you can still feel your brain bouncing around your head. But you don't mind the view as the sea is spread in front of you in all its primordial beauty.

The island reminds you of the one you and Hobie were stuck in, with its white sand and lush greenery— the Mermaid's head is almost identical to it. It's just missing the waterfalls where you learned how to swim and the empty graves. Maybe not all of it were good memories. You exhale out the memory, hand rubbing along the scars on your palm.

Slightly further on your right, you see the twin island that's connected by a rope bridge. The shipwreck above it has you asking questions on what it is or how it ended up there in the first place. But as you see shadows up in the trees and the broken down bow, you look away, afraid that you might've seen some island god protecting the haunted shipwreck.

As you run your thumb across your necklace, you spot the same mustachioed man walking towards you.

“Not a good time, trust me.” You stop him in his tracks.

“But captain Brown is being summoned—”

“I know, and he's haggling to the death in there, you don't want to interrupt him.” Taking a bite of your apple, you shoo him away as politely as you can. Hobie's charismatic smirk that you saw through the window still has your legs wobbly. “Maybe come back later.”

The man shifts his feet, staring at the building behind you. Stark neighs beside you, huffing as he smells the apple in your hand. After a while of looking, the stranger clicks his tongue and leaves.

With a scoff, you turn around to feed the remainder of your apple to Stark, but as you give it to him, you see the same old man from the docks staring at you. He hides behind the fruit stall, white eyes shining and skin blanched as if he's looking at a ghost.

“Can I help you?” You ask, hand right on the pommel of your sword. The man scurries away once you ask him.

The doors open loudly, and the bloodsail pirates exit out with wide grins and cheering as Hobie walks out with a victorious smile.

“I'll take it that you got a high price—oof!” You're quickly met with his arms embracing you, twirling you around until you're a giggling mess. “Hobie!”

He peppers your face with kisses, and the rest of the crew makes gagging sounds as they climb up the cart, probably excited to spend their coin. And yet he ignores them, excitedly clutching you.

With your feet back on solid ground, he takes one final kiss on your cheek before settling for holding your hands. “Gwen and Pav still need to crunch the numbers but it looks like we got enough for the ship, payment for the new crew, and everyone's take. The old bloke said that he hasn't seen that kind of loot since he moved from the east.”

You let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding. “That's good. Really good.” Hugging him, he squeezes you back until you're the one to pull away.

“We need to find you new shoes, love.”

“With that kind of money maybe we can get everyone new shoes.”

Hobie pats your cheek, “aye, maybe we can.”

“Let's just go!” Yuri drunkenly thumps her foot against the floor of the cart. “I'm hungry!”

“Let's go before she eats the horse.” Stark kicks, huffing at Hobie's words as if he understood it. He helps you up on the driver's seat before he hauls himself over beside you. With a gentle whip of the reins, Stark trots back towards the tavern.

“The guy was back by the way, still looking for you.” The uneven road rattles your entire body. You look over your shoulder to check on the crew, finding that Yuri is dozing off on James' shoulder while he's also falling asleep. Gwen chats with Pavitr, all the while holding Miles’ hand as he juggles her hand while scribbling on his notebook. You smile at them before turning back towards Hobie. “And should I tell you about this weird old man who's stalking me?”

“What?” Hobie's head cranes quickly to look at you. “Who's stalkin’ you?”

You shrug, “I don't know, Gwen said he might just be some old pirate who has gone sea crazy.”

“Still, you can never be too careful.” Taking your hand, he weaves his fingers around yours as he continues to lead the cart along the road. “Tell me if he pops out again, yeah?”

“Give him a stern talking to, captain?” Resting your chin on his shoulder, he smiles at you while the mid-day sun shines on the side of his face.

“Aye, get him to leave you the fuck alone.” He noses the side of your cheek. “‘sides, an old pirate is still a pirate, they still know the tricks. You don't get that old in this life without knowin’ how to wield a weapon.”

“My hero.” You whisper right in his ear, blowing air as he chuckles, and goosebumps appear on his skin. “I'm sure I can handle an old man, Hobie.”

“I know you can, lovie, but let me know, yeah? I'll help you.”

“Thank you, I will.” Kissing his cheek, you lean against him amidst the lull of the ride towards the docks.

—

“Alright.” Gwen sighs, stretching her hands and the clinking of coins cease. The opened ledger in front of her is filled with calculations. Pavitr hides the abacus inside a drawer, probably never wanting to see it ever again. “I know Pav and I are right so,” she gives you and Hobie a big grin across the captain's table. “Here’s your cut, doc, cap.” She hands you and Hobie a bag of coins each.

You try not to show your excitement, but it's prevalent when you jiggle the pouch in your hand with giddiness. Hobie nods at Gwen and Pav, thanking them with a grin.

The sun is setting right outside the Osprey, pink and orange hues perfectly aligning with the large windows of the captain's quarters and drenching the whole room in the same shade. Hobie pushes Gwen's and Pavitr's share of the loot. And the two can't hide their equal exhilaration either.

Pavitr laughs, akin to a giggle as he shakes his pouch together with yours, making a tune. “I'm going to buy so much chai to share with everyone!” His soft locks bounce as he leaves the room without missing a beat, probably heading towards the market to spend his coin.

“Watch out for pickpockets!” Your voice calls after him, and he answers with a muffled ‘I will!’ You take a peek inside the pouch, not really counting it since you trust Gwen and Pavitr's calculations, but you look at it nonetheless and your eyes widen at the pile of coins. “This is so much!” Gasping out and kicking your legs about, Hobie gazes at you with endearment as he pockets his share.

Gwen does the same, tucking it safely inside her vest. “It's not much, really.” She shrugs, finding your giddy smile contagious. “Since we mostly set aside the coin for renovation and maintenance of the ship.”

“This isn't a lot?!” Chuckling, you dig your hand inside, feeling the cool metal around your fingertips. You've never had this much coin in your whole life, the closest you got was when Gwen handed you some once upon a time. Remembering your debt, you take out a handful and hand it to a confused quartermaster.

“What's this?”

“For the coins you gave me before.” You shake the pile in your palm. “I told you I'd pay you back.” Hobie's grey eyes stare at the two of you with fondness, watching the interaction with a soft smile.

“And I told you that you don't have to.” She pushes your hand away but you push back. “Doc.” Warning you, she raises a pierced brow. “It's yours, go buy something nice. You earned it.”

“This is plenty, Gwen. Besides, you've got your dad, treat him to lunch at a tavern.” Your determined eyes has Gwen sighing.

“You won't be able to sleep if I don't take this, huh?”

“Nope!” You grin as she opens her palms and you dump the coins on them. “Thank you, Miss Stacy.” Your teasing lilt makes Gwen roll her eyes with a subtle smile.

“Sure,” she pushes the captain's chair away from the table, the carved eagle moving back as the light grazes its wood. “I'll give everyone's share, make sure you lock the rest in the safe, Hobie.” Gathering the pile of coin pouches, she leaves the room with an armful of clinking coins.

“Yeah, yeah.” Hobie fights a yawn, standing up from his seat to hide the rest of the money away from a hidden safe tucked underneath the bed. Right where a string of laurels and violets are etched on the wood. You discovered it after accidentally hitting it with your toe during a lively night with Hobie. “D’you want to go to the market with me, lovie?” He asks, hauling an armful towards the hiding spot.

“How could I say no to that?” Standing up and taking the rest of the coins, you follow right behind him as he kneels down and opens the secret compartment with a click on the bulb of a violet flower.

Hobie hides his smile while he's placing the bags inside the compartment. “Good, I'll buy you those shoes I've been meanin’ to get you.” His voice is muffled, body half inside the safe.

“As long as it's not gaudy like the one Miguel got me.” Sitting down beside him, head leaning on the bed, you hear a muffled scoff.

“I've got better taste than O’Hara.” Hobie wiggles himself out, taking the bags of coins in your arms. “‘sides, we can make a day out of it, show you around the place.” He gets inside once more, and you hear shuffling and coins clinking.

“Did you grow up here?”

“Nah,” he sniffs, probably dusty inside. “‘m from the mainland jus’ like Miles and Pav.”

“How'd you even manage to get here then?” Your fingers play with the frayed edges of your trousers nervously.

You haven't asked him much about his past before he became a pirate, most of the stories he told you were all swashbuckling adventures in the sea. None of which were of his childhood, or his blood family. It alienates you slightly since he knows everything about you, your story, your family, but nothing on his side. All you know is that he's an orphan, raised together with Miles and Pav, bouncing from orphanage to orphanage. And that he met the rest of the crew on the way. In the end he found his family, that you know, but you're a curious one, and you love him for everything that he is, even his past that he so clearly guards away and seals deep inside.

“Stole a ship,” he groans as he scooches himself out. “A merchant one, then sailed ‘ere with the original crew while tryin’ to find if this place really exists. We found out quickly that it was when they shot right at us.” As he exits the hidey hole, his bandana is lopsided with dust clinging on his chin and eyebrow. You giggle at his appearance. “What? Is us gettin’ shot funny, love?” Teasing, he nudges your leg with his foot.

“No, it's horrible.” You say, still laughing. As you pluck out the dust bunnies away from his face, he gazes at you sweetly. “You just look adorable, captain.” Your breath fans his cheeks as you reach up to fix his bandana. “There, still cute but a lot more captain-like.”

Without warning, Hobie grabs you by the waist, tackling you on the floor as you let out a surprised screech. His hand protects the back of your head, ever prepared to shield you from harm.

“Hobie! What are you doing?” You smack his behind as he nuzzles the crook of your neck. “I thought we were going to the market together?” Your voice lilts, a giddy one that exudes excitement. His knee separates your legs, arms woven around you as he kisses your searing skin.

“The market can wait.” He lifts himself up by the waist, voice deep and saccharine. Shrugging off his vest before cupping your face and squishing your cheeks together while you look up at him with shining eyes and a lopsided grin. “‘sides, they never close. We've got all the time in the world now, lovie.” The sky paints him pink as he leans down.

—

Hobie was right, the Mermaid's head never sleeps. It's well past supper when you went to the market with him. The place is noisy and as bustling as it was when you and the crew passed by earlier on your way to the tavern. Shopkeepers call on you like seagulls fighting for a crumb of hardtack. Their stalls are either shining or edible. A pile of locket watches tick in one of the stalls, too many to count, mostly etched with different initials and the navy sigil. Another stall has different sizes of compasses in all the colours of the rainbow. Next to it is a larger stall that houses telescopes that you can see every pirate owning.

On your right is a cobbler's shop where you got your new pair after almost thirty minutes of haggling from Hobie. You can't lie though, that was entertaining especially when he flashed the old saleslady his most charming smile and told tales of his grand adventure with the bloodsail pirates. In the end she gave you a huge discount on the boots and even threw in new socks for you and Hobie for free. He's too good at haggling while you can barely decide what to buy with your newly acquired wealth.

Above you, the exotic birds fly about, squeaking and squawking about the canopy that shields most of the place from the heat in the morning and the cold at night. There are strands of fishnets draped above and under the canopy. Hobie said it's for a tactical reason and not just for aesthetics with its hanging charms chiming about in the breeze. He once told you that the navy tried to ‘liberate’ the Mermaid's head, but the force of everyone combined helped defend and keep the twin islands. The fishnets above are actually made of tougher material, capable of stopping a cannon ball or even a trebuchet from dropping on the town. The marks of the battle are still lingering on the walls of the place, dents on the stone walls, chimneys blasted in half and bullet holes on doors and windows. You can just imagine how it all went, you asked Hobie, but he said it was before his time.

The moon brings dappled silver light upon the noisy market while the lamps swing around their perches and the shopkeepers yell their pitches at you like they're trying to sell you air. You could get used to this, the hustle and bustle of the place, it reminds you of the town you used to live in with Jess. That reminded you how much you missed that life, but you're satisfied where you are now, beside him as he unabashedly holds your hand while strolling the market.

“Pretty pretty lady!” You hear a loud squawk on your left and you're stopped in your tracks. “Got you, got you!” A parrot, yes a parrot with its yellow and orange feathers speak to you in its high pitched mimicking tone. “Shells for the pretty pretty lady?” It asks, seemingly manning the whole stall by its birdy lonesome while it's perched on a stool.

“Holy shit!” You laugh, and Hobie mirrors your smile. “Do you see this?” Pointing at the parrot, Hobie nods, bringing your hand down.

“Careful, don't point or it might bite you.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “A talking bird, and here I thought I've seen everything.”

“Buy something something?” It tilts its head, beak opening and closing.

“Oh I might buy something something just because I love you.” Giggling and cooing, you peruse the parrot's wares. There must've been a hundred multicoloured shells laying neatly on the stall. Some are as big as your face, and miniature ones that are as big as the pad of your finger. You ooh and ahh at each piece, grabbing the big one and placing it right on the shell of your ear to listen to the sea.

Hobie wishes he could capture the moment, the giddy smile, the glimmering childlike wonder in your eyes. Where's Miles and his drawing skills when you need him?

“D’you want that one, lovie?”

“Shh.”

“Don't shush me.” Hobie chuckles, feigning offense. “What's the sea tellin' you?”

“I don't know because you're too noisy.” You fake a glare at him, earning a pinch to your side. “Wait, it's telling me…” he pauses, awaiting your next words. “...that it's too expensive.” You turn the shell and show him the hefty price tag.

Hobie laughs wholeheartedly, shaking his head at you. “Fuck off, c’mon we need to buy you a dagger.”

“In a minute, I need to look at the rest. They're so pretty.” You're mesmerized by the shiny surfaces.

“Don't get swindled.” He whispers to you, afraid that the parrot will lunge at him and claw his eyes out.

“I won't get swindled.” You wave him off, eyeing a pair of earrings made out of shells that might suit Yuri or Lyla.

Hobie grabs your head gently and kisses your temple. And the parrot squeeks out a ‘smitten! Smitten!’ that he chuckles at when the bird is right. “I'll be at the blacksmith, love, be back ‘ere in five, yeah? Don't leave the market without me.”

Meeting with his grey eyes that have softened to a pretty silver pair, you smile at him. “I'll be fine, Hobie.” You pat the cutlass on your hip. “Besides, I have to buy stuff for the crew so take your time. I'll meet you at the blacksmith.”

“I don't want to leave you too long with these scallywags.”

“Hey! Hey!” The bird squawks out in offense.

“I'm sorry that you have to hear the news from me but, you're a scallywag too, Hobie.” Giggling, you pat his chest lovingly, the marks you left still evident on his neck as you hide it by fixing his collar.

He scrunches his nose at you, and you pinch his nose in reply. You two must look like a couple of honeymooners in front of the other pirates. It seems like Hobie has thrown his reputation as the fearsome red spider behind his back in favour of holding you sweetly and brazenly in public.

Smiling, he squeezes your arm before reluctantly leaving your side. “I'll be back, the blacksmith is jus’ around the corner of the apothecary.”

“There's an apothecary here?!” Your excited exclamation barely gets people's attention. You're starting to love this place, especially when everyone minds their own business.

“Don't spend all your money.” He says, walking backwards with his hands inside his pockets while he looks at you sweetly.

“It's going to be hard, but I'll try.” You wave goodbye as the captain walks into the crowd and disappears in the sea of leather and tricorns.

“So, Mr. Parrot, how much for the earrings?” You eye the bird, maybe if you practice your haggling skills on him you'll get better the next time you make your purchase with a human salesperson.

“Poor! Poor!” It squawks out, dancing about his perch.

“Hey!” Maybe if you slyly pocket the jewellery it won't notice. But his beady eyes look like it can see through you as he flaps his wings at you. “Fine, I'll buy it.” The awful bird looks like he's satisfied, maybe that was his plan all along.

—

With your bag filled with purchases, a scrapbook and a new charcoal pencil for Miles. A new flavour of tea that Pavitr might like, and you even managed to find a jar of coconut oil for him. The shell earrings for Yuri and Lyla, which you only managed to get a pair since the bloody parrot was a tough one and didn't even let the price drop to a single coin. So they have to share each one, you guess. For Gwen you found a pair of pink ballet shoes tucked inside an antique store filled with bits and bobs you don't even recognise. The shoes don't look like they could be danced in, but it looks decent enough to be worn. You hope she likes it, but your doubts made you buy a pair of shears to help cut her hair that she's been annoyed about recently, just in case she ends up hating the ballet shoes. Even James got a new leather belt to replace the makeshift rope belt that he uses. All in all, they're all good purchases. Your coin pouch might weigh less now but you're happy that you got your family something as thanks for everything they've done for you.

You love them, and the things you bought can't compare to the amount of love you have for them.

Now onto Hobie's gift, one that you've planned on for weeks now. The silver spoon clinks against the jar of coconut oil as you practically skip around the apothecary that you took a quick peek at their window. Maybe you'll check it out sometime since you still have money to burn.

You spot the mustachioed man before you could stop Hobie from pushing the stranger away with his whole palm against the man's face. Your new boots thump against the rocky road as you quickly pass by people to get to him. Leg aching, you're starting to worry about an ensuing fight.

“I told you like before, fuckin' later.” Hobie gruffly says, sounding mad more than annoyed. “And tell Thorpe that—” He spots your concerned face from the crowd before you get to his side.

“You alright?” You ask, hand gravitating towards his bicep. “Come on, let's just leave.” Tugging him away, the stranger glares at Hobie, which he doesn't appreciate. “Hobie, come on, it's late.” The heat from the blacksmith’s fire sears your cheeks.

Hobie stands tall, eyeing the man, as if he's egging him on to take out his gun.

“Hobie!” You shake him.

The man scoffs, smirking, reminding you of a certain navy captain. “Listen to your girl, Brown—”

Your gun is raised and aimed at the man. Hand not even shaking as you look at him over the barrel of your blunderbuss. “Don't fucking test us. Leave.”

Hobie's eyes briefly widen before those stormy grey eyes flick towards the surprised stranger. “Trust me, mate, she will shoot.”

The whole marketplace seems to go at a stand still.

“Thorpe will hear about this!” He stomps his foot, moustache swaying side to side as he leaves and fades into the crowd.

You don't lower your gun until you can't see the man's red hair. Hobie slowly takes your arm, bringing your shooting hand down to your side as he shields you from where the stranger was.

“You good, scuttlebutt?” Cupping your cheek, you sigh and lean against his touch. Adrenaline rushing through your veins.

“I'm good, yeah.” You sigh, turning to look at the blacksmith before she shifts her eyes away from you, so does the half of the market. “Let's go home.” You don't even have the energy to ask him who Thorpe is.

“C’mon, the crew's waitin'.” Hobie weaves his fingers around your own, guiding you around the market.

—

“Hey, fucking finally!” Lyla exclaims from the deck, munching on a pastry. “They're here!” A rush of footsteps walk towards the railings while you and Hobie sluggishly climb up the ramp. “We thought you got into some trouble.”

“Sort of.” You sigh out, leg aching as you stretch it in front of you while leaning against the railing. Maybe you still need to break in the new shoes.

Hobie notices, helping you sit on a crate. “Thorpe really wants my arse.”

“Who’s Thorpe?” George asks, a question that you've been meaning to ask yourself.

“He's part of the pirate council here.” Gwen answers for Hobie while he's busy kneading your back.

“There's a fucking pirate council?” You gasp out, half annoyed, half surprised. “Why? I thought this place doesn't have rules—” Yuri opens her mouth. “— beside the pirate code.” She shuts her mouth. “Sounds like you have to meet with him, Hobie.” You look up at him, only to find that his brows are furrowed together with worry. Hand finding his own, you squeeze him.

“We have to meet him.” Miles says, leaning on the railing beside Gwen. “We got summoned too.” He gestures towards the original crew.

“Fucker.” Hobie curses under his breath.

“That guy scares me.” James adds, arms crossed over his chest.

“You and me both, buddy.” Yuri clasps his shoulder.

“What do you think he wants, Hobie?” Pavitr asks worriedly, hands wringing around his bangle. “Is it because of—”

“Hobart Brown!”

Hobie grimaces, and everyone runs towards the railings to see the source of the voice. You look over and see the same moustache. This time though, he brought cavalry.

“What?! Only my own crew can call me that!” Hobie yells, sensing the oncoming danger as he unconsciously shields you with his body.

“Captain Thorpe ‘tide turner’ Heinrick has summoned you and your crew.” The familiar click of muskets echo around the docks. “And the bloody duchess!”

“Motherfucker!” You stand up, peeking over Hobie's arm. “Why?!”

“You pointed a gun at me!”

“Fair enough.” You muffledly say, hand inching towards your blunderbuss. “Why don't you come up here and—”

“No, we know your tactics! You used that on Bradshaw but it's not gonna work here!” The mustache man yells back. “Come down here and talk! The captain just wants to see you!”

“How ‘bout we reschedule?” Hobie flashes his negotiating smile. “It’s late and maybe we could—”

“No!” The whole gang on the docks aim higher at your heads. “He wants to see you now!”

“No need to scream, fuck.” Hobie whispers, hand brushing along your back before putting his hands on the side of his head. “Alright, we're comin’, don't get your knickers in a bunch.”

The rest of the crew follows, and one nod at Lyla from you has her understanding what you meant as she grabs George's bicep, pulling him back on deck. The man tries to argue but Lyla whispers something at him that has him reluctantly agreeing.

Once on the dock, Hobie gets closer to the man casually even when the barrel kisses his chest. Your heart leaps, afraid while your instincts tell you to fight and shield him.

“Don't worry, he won't shoot.” Hobie waves back to the crew, sensing yours and their concern for the captain. “Thorpe loves me too much.”

A sudden metallic clang echoes on the far side of the docks, where another commotion is happening. You gotta hand it to the Mermaid's head, there's no dull moment.

“C’mon, we're all yours.” Hobie sneers. “Where to?”

As you turn towards the louder commotion happening, you spot a pair of familiar faces getting hauled off a ship. Their eyes strike a memory to you, green and blue, different but a mirror of the other. An apple scented air, cracked hazelnuts in your palms while you wait with them by a dark lake. And birds, hundreds of migrating birds flying out of the trees after yelling obscenities at them.

“Cousins!” You yell, quickly running towards them before Collette's face gets a fistfull from a pirate. “Collette, Jonathan!”

Hobie takes the opportunity to exact chaos.

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