Director's note: Episode three cools the fire of the last and reveals the discipline that holds the Silent Tide together. This story shifts from surrender to structure, showing how loyalty, routine, and quiet conviction define life aboard the ship. Thomas finds order here, but every rule comes with its own kind of danger.
Chapter 7
The beating sun pierced Thomas' shirt highlighting his newly acquired "A" with a dull ache. A visibly hungover Thomas sat up to regain his bearings in the open air. The most experienced crew was already diligently removing any sign of the night's escapades. However, much of the newly acquired crew mates still lay strewn about the deck. The smartest of the lot were rising and finding a way to make themselves useful. Others relieved themselves of last night's sin over the edge of the ship, while others yet remained in a wakeless slumber.
This was their first test and several failed, returning to shore with the courtesans they had enjoyed the night before. The leaders of the crew operated with shrewd discipline and they expected it of all those who would sail under them. If you couldn't handle the good times, there's no way they could risk their life next to you when things became perilous, especially when such perils are unavoidable.
A shadow passed over the quickly recovering Thomas. "Quartermaster Finneas, go now. You'll find him below deck." The grubby man that had grabbed him the night before was once again guiding Thomas' next adventure. In the morning light, Thomas could tell the man was older and plumper than most pirates. His face was hardened from years of surviving, but his demeanor was a mix of jovial and a well earned seriousness. The cook!
"Thank you–" Thomas paused to get his name. "Frank", the chef grumbled. "Thank you Frank, I'm Thomas" he replied, a bit too posh for the cook's liking. "The ladies left you in one piece, that's a good sign, but you're nothing here until Finneas says so. Best be going." Thomas maintained his polite grin but heeded the warning promptly.
Below deck the sunlight leaked through much more than Thomas had presumed. A large hold was undoubtedly the quartermaster's keep. Stepping into it Thomas was surprised by their stores and its precise structure. Pirates weren't known for their efficiency, but this was meticulously structured, even by Thomas' standards. Toward the back of the keep lay a more fortified door with two keyholes. Thomas was drawn to it, a puzzle he was compelled to examine.
A sharp tip of metal pressed into his back. A thick accent questioned his presence. "I track every person and good that comes aboard this ship… you aren't on my list". Thomas found himself helplessly lost without explanation. Start simple he thought to himself. With practiced calm he slowly spoke "I'm Thomas, Frank sent me down here to meet you." He paused to let his brain catch up. "May I turn around?"
"Slowly" Finneas huffed, reducing the pressure of his sword ever so slightly. Thomas turned to face his new interrogator. Indeed it was Finneas. His 6'3 frame looked even larger close up. Thomas knew any struggle would be futile. "And how did you get on my boat?" Finneas demanded, ready to run through Thomas at any ill movement.
"A dinghy, just after midnight." Thomas held his arms up pleading for calm. A set of boots echoed closer.
"He's just a merchant boy, Finneas." The captain rounded the corner. "Can't you tell by his clothes." Finneas looked him up and down before lowering his cutlass. "Aye, I can tell." The captain and quartermaster stay looking at Thomas who began to relax. "What's your name, merchant boy?" Finneas asked. "Thomas".
"I meant your full name. Who's your family?" the quartermaster pressed on. It was much too soon for Thomas to reveal his identity, but the peering eyes in front of him would accept no lie. "Thomas Goldhair."
Finneas sighed of stress, dropping his arms and rolling his eyes to the under informed Captain. She looked to him for more. "The Goldhairs. Runners of Brinemarch's underground. The smuggler's royalty Goldhairs! Send him back with the drunks, slighting his family will do us no good." Finneas spoke strongly, but not absolutely. His opinion was welcomed by the Captain, but her call was final.
"We can't do that. Thomas show him your shoulder" she commanded. Finneas' disbelief grew as Thomas gingerly revealed his scabbing "A".
"He bears our mark!?" Finneas snapped. "Yes, he earned it. And besides, I thought you could use the help."
She did little to hint back at last night's escapades, nor did Thomas expect her to. She was the Captain and any intimacy they shared would be an agreement of shadows.
They stood for a moment, Finneas taking in his new scenario. "Very well" the Captain concluded, walking away to other more pressing duties.
Finneas broke from his disbelief to measure up Thomas. "Does anyone else know you're here?". Thomas paused. This was a secret he best kept, and one he thought he could manage, "No, no one."
"Good, let's keep it that way, Thomas Middlenight." Finneas wagged his eyebrows to confirm understanding.
"Now, what do you know about inventory?" "Everything," Thomas confidently replied. "Good man, then let's get to work. We have to take stock of everything given last night's shenanigans. There is a system here, you will learn it".
They would spend the rest of the day meticulously counting every ration, every good, and every piece of contraband. Finneas had an elaborate, but incredibly efficient system that crudely placed storage, distribution, and accuracy above all else.
A quarter of the way through inventory the ship surged forward escaping the bay of the only city Thomas had ever known. Even in the belly of the ship its speed was palpable. Thomas knew not where they were headed, but for the first time since leaving Nadine, he felt safe. The shadow of his family lay with the city and in the dim cargo hold, he felt the light of his own journey shining down on him. The fortune in his boot lay safely, its heat dissipating for the journey ahead as if it approved.
Chapter 8
Thomas emerged to a setting sun and open water. The wind shifted through his dark hair. The ocean looked so large out here and Thomas felt a great sense of unexplained melancholy. He was grateful for the guide ropes that steadied his steps. His seasickness stayed at bay but his sea legs were that of a newborn fawn.
He stumbled forward towards the mess hall. With each step he felt a growing heat of someone's stare. After a few more wobbly meters, he couldn't resist looking for those peering eyes. He didn't have to look hard.
"Steady, Thomas, we wouldn't want you going overboard." A soft and charismatic voice welcomed his ears. Riley grabbed his shoulder in support, careful to avoid his initiation wound. "Where are we going?" she gleefully asked. Unlike the covert coldness of the Captain, Riley spoke with an unashamed warmness. He reckoned she might be the most free person on the ship. Perhaps that he had ever known.
Riley sat across from him as they ate dinner. Now dozens of eyes shined his way. His nightly adventure followed by his day in hold left few aware of his existence. Now here he sat amongst all of them, chatting away with the first mate as if they were good friends. Given Riley's respect with the crew, her reception of him crucially gave Thomas a warm welcome from the others. Some would remain leery, but most offered a friendly smile or a tip of a hat.
Riley sat across from him, although Thomas wasn't sure if she was hungry for dinner or for him. He had assumed that last night was orchestrated by the Captain's desire, but her dilated pupils and flushed lips indicated different. "So how are those legs? First time at sea?" She ever so gently scooted her knee against his inner thigh, pressing further until she could brush him properly.
Thomas let out a small yip as she reached his manhood. "Yes, um, good", he let out highly before recovering to normal. "It may take a day or two, but you helped steady me for the evening."
"Yes, well we will have to get you upright before the others see." Riley leaned in closer, simultaneously exposing the breadth of her cleavage while also rubbing her hand up his thigh. The pressure in his pants was growing and she would offer no reprieve. "I'll show you to the crew quarters, but first, let me show you my room in case you need anything."
Thomas sheepishly walked through a short door adjoined to the Captain's room. Riley's First Mate quarters were very much like the Captain's, but just smaller. A sweet unidentifiable scent flushed the room. Thomas inhaled slightly deeper, welcoming the smell of Riley. "What do you think?" She said with a prideful grin. "It's very nice." Thomas answered in kind.
"Did you know? This is the first room I've ever had all to myself! Even from before joining the crew. It cost her a pretty penny but Captain had the room built and sectioned off from hers when I made first mate." Riley reminisced fondly before sitting on the bed. She gestured to a small stool next to her. Thomas sat down, knees touching one another. "I meant to ask, what is the Captain's name? I still haven't heard it."
"Just Captain. That's the only name she goes by."
Thomas chuckled at the thought, "Just Captain?". Riley smiled a bit puzzled, "What's funny?"
Thomas settled in, "It's just, well, what if she was no longer Captain?"
A light twinged in Riley's eyes. It was a glint of fire mixed with a shadowy darkness, "Then I've died and something has gone terribly wrong. She will always be Captain." She spoke low with a finality that Thomas had never heard before. He knew every word was true and their bond was unbreakable. "Captain it is."
She grabbed his thigh, her jovial demeanor returning with a gleeful squeeze. "So about yesterday. There's something I really wanted to do but it didn't happen." Thomas listened to her unabashful tone, but her cheeks betrayed her. Still he didn't fully know what she was getting at. He grabbed her hand to reassure her. Her eyes blazed with a new fire altogether.
He was compelled to lean in, her plump lips calling for his. "Thomas, kiss me" she asked. He pushed in, lips locking for the first time. Even with all the debauchery of last night, this felt very intimate. Her passion would be his tonight.
Soft. He was lost in a sea of pheromones but that word bounced around his mind. Soft lips, soft touch, soft smile, soft-
She was loosening her leather top. For how practical it was for her sailing duties, it was surprisingly easy to come off. Underneath her large and swollen b***ts giggled free. She sat on his lap. His mind had been right. Soft areolas. Perfect pink chocolates to lick and suck. Her n****es peaked as he played with them.
SHE settled onto his lap, head back, embracing his touch. Despite his soft complexion, his firm grasp excited her. Even through two layers, the thought of him covered her in goosebumps. He was remarkably strong underneath her, something she had longed for. A woman's touch was knowing, but his was that of uncontrolled passion. A dive into something more primal and less forgiving. She had slipped into her thoughts when she noticed his piercing blue eyes gleefully looking up to her for more. Thomas made her feel comforted, accepted. She pressed her forehead against his, speaking at a near whisper. "I want you inside me…". She bit her lip, looking away bashfully before remembering her pact to never be shameful of her desires.
His hands grabbed her cheeks, a tight handful through her leather pants. "Let's take these off". She rose, sliding her pants down, the sweat of her desire teasingly holding on to the leather as she pushed down. They hung on her boots, which she hurriedly kicked off as Thomas loosened his own trousers. Success! She chucked her boots aside, helping Thomas' slide his pants to ankles. She stopped feeling a desire and need to prepare him for the journey ahead. Just as she felt the saliva in her mouth form, she felt a firm pressure of his hand beneath her chin.
"Come to me" Thomas insisted, pulling her lips to his. She could taste her desire. She stood to place him between her freed beauty. With herself just above him, she paused to make eye contact with him so they could enjoy the moment together.
She shimmered down. "Ahh", they both released audible gasps of pleasure. Again she looked to him for connection and in return she found his dedicated eyes. Riley reveled in this bliss that she had longed for.
THIS, she could get used to. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK- Three thumps rattled her door. She clamped down on Thomas, not in pleasure but in startled fear. A muffled voice pushed under the door. "Riley, we need you out here!". The cook's tone was that of sincerity.
Riley instinctively rose, her actions quick, efficient, and controlled. "Fuck Thomas, I'm sorry". Her pants were already on, and she was stuffing her feet into her boots. Thomas followed suit, pulling his pants on and hastily throwing on his shirt. She walked towards the door, the beating knock returning. "Riley please we-", she swung the door open cutting off Frank's pleas. "I'm here!" she pushed past and towards the main deck.
Thomas stumbled out, still adjusting his shirt. The cook looked at him with unamused surprise. Thomas had assumed the cook was privy to his initiation but now Thomas was aware their adventure and connection had been previously secluded. The cook sighed under his breath, he had no time to deal with this. "Come on boy".
On the deck the smell of burning wood was palpable. The crew had gathered, gawking at the flames in the dark distance. The remnants of a broken ship flickered in the moonlight.
The Captain and Riley stood side-by-side analyzing the situation. "Sacking gone wrong?" Riley pondered. "No, too much damage." "Military? The ship's large enough." Riley offered again.
The captain maintained her thousand yard stare, "At night? Not their style. Do you think it could be a trap?" Riley squinted at the flickering flames. "For who, us? Pretty costly trap, I don't see it." The captain turned her attention to Riley, "Let's go figure this out, approach, full sails."
"You heard the Captain, full sails!" the deck sprang to life with no hesitations. The Abyss was a night crew, a predator happily stalking in the shadows of the moon. "Ready the powder and grapples, full watch gentleman!" More bodies swirled the deck. Finneas' unmistakable voice peaked through the bustling deck, "Merchant boy, help me distribute." Thomas swayed toward Finneas doing his best to avoid crashing into anyone. "Are we expecting danger, Finneas?"
"This is the pirate's life, we ALWAYS expect danger!"
Chapter 9
The Silent Tide glided just outside of the light of the crackling ship. Already debris clinked against their hull. Powder and guns lay awaiting a fight, but whatever horrific violence struck seemed to have already left its wake of destruction. The ship circled in closer. A spotter called down "One ship, luxury transport, heavily damaged, survivors and goods in the water. No activity on deck."
"Move forward" the captain coolly called. "Retrieve survivors, prepare to board". The mystery loomed.
Thomas looked at the crew's faces for clues, but found only focus. A faint voice called out from the waters "Help! Down here." The waves rocked a chunk of debris the man clung to. Nets cast down to him.
Excitement clamored from Finneas "The barrels mate, reel them in!" Thomas leaned over for a better look, grasping the edge firmly as to not join the forsaken crew below. The waters were surprisingly calm, but even with the moon and fires Thomas couldn't see a thing in the dark waters. He squinted and bounced, anxious to get a better view.
Barrels splashed on board, rewards for their courage. Two other men tugged at their net before the stranded stranger reached the deck, seasoaked and gasping for air. Immediately two additional mates ran over, swords readied. Finneas approached, interrogating the man, who struggled to find words.
Thomas turned back to the open water, and that's when he saw her. Standing ghostly on a large piece of debris, her body still against the chaos of the sea, the moonlight illuminating her like a lighthouse on a foggy night. "There! A woman in the water." The boat yearned towards her, likely already spotted well before Thomas' frantic calling. She latched on to the roping as the ship glazed next to her. Thomas gave her a hand as she reached the top roping. She was in white sleeping clothes, her skin olive, her features dark. While plenty capable, this was no sailor. She stood silently in shock not truly understanding her surroundings.
Finneas screamed at the strange man on board with a strong shake, "Give me something man, what happened!". Visibly shaken, he uttered only one word, "Kraken". Finneas' face contorted before calling out in a controlled way. "CAPTAIN! Kraken Call."
The Silent Tide neared the flaming ship. While extremely damaged, its ornate body was ripe for picking. Unmenacing bodies danced wildly around its deck. Riley approached the captain, "Kraken? In these shallow waters. Could it be?" The boarding crew readied themselves, grapples in hand, the Silent Tide slowing its pace. Riley looked at her crew and then back to the Captain who said nothing. "Captain? Do we board?".
A silence fell over, waiting for a response, ship edging ever closer. The Captain remained concentrated, as if she had all the time in the world. Riley called again "Prepare to board?". The Silent Tide edged ever closer, the chaos from the flaming ship growing intimately close.
Finally the Captain broke, "Full sails, reverse charts." The two ships were side-by-side and close enough that some boarders had already thrown their hooks. "Abort boarding! Steady your hands men, reverse charts!". The boarders dropped their hooks, instead pushing the Silent Tide away with long wooden poles as the ships skirted past each other. Thomas looked on ghastly.
"Riley, there's people on that ship!", he cried out. "REVERSE CHARTS" Riley glared.
There would be no rescue. Thomas ran to the side, the faces of the forsaken crew calling out for help. One man measured the gap between the ships, considering his chances. Then from behind him a glowing shadow raced towards the Silent Tide. The shadow blasted past the hesitant man, who clumsily fell between the two ships. The shadow, jumping with all its might, sprung about boosting its foot on the railing before rolling onto the deck.
The shadow called out with bated breath, almost chuckling "I thought you were going to leave me. How are we, mates!". The two ships grew ever more apart. No one else would make it aboard.
As the night grew, the glow of the fiery ship danced in the distant background. The sea-soaked man, the shocked woman, and the handsome dark shadow sat on the deck being tended too under strict watch.
Thomas stood on deck, watching over the scene, processing what his life at sea was actually going to be like. Anger twinged, knowing they had left the others behind. How many lives would be lost over the coming hours. The night was young and any chance of rescue vanished with the Silent Tide into the night.
Riley approached the brooding Thomas. "You okay?" she softly asked, but without a note of apology. "There were people on the ship Riley…"
She firmly corrected him, "There's people on this ship. They come first, always." He looked at her with rebuttal but she abruptly cut him off. "AND- we never question the captain. Never."
The dynamic was new to him and he questioned to himself what it meant to truly give his life over to the crew, to the captain. Then, like a candle on a windy night, the flaming ship let out a bright burst before being swallowed into darkness. The crew turned to acknowledge the other ship's fate. One word danced upon Riley's tongue softly. "Kraken."
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