Angst - Lebenskrise
Titel: Husband
Team: Ophelia
Challenge: Angst - Lebenskrise (Für's Team)
Fandom: Black Sails
Charaktere: Anne Bonny, James Bonny, Charles Vane
Sprache: Englisch
Wörter: 1.200
Kommentar: Hier fehlt noch die zweite Hälfte, aber ich quäl mich damit schon so lange, dass ich fand, dass mir dafür schon ein Punkt zustand.
At first she doesn’t even recognize him.
At first she doesn’t even recognize him.
He’s just another man in the room, moving through the crowd towards the bar to get a drink. But something makes Anne’s gaze catch, makes it linger on his figure, something familiar. She watches from the corner as the bartender puts a cup of rum in front of him and accepts his payment. Then the man throws a look over his shoulder, eyes trailing after a passing whore, and it’s like somebody dropped a block of ice into her stomach.
It can’t be. He can’t be here. Not here. Not now.
The light in the bar is dim, but then he leans closer to a burning candle and she can make out his face more clearly, from the shape of his nose to the scar running down his cheek. The scar Jack gave him.
Jack, who went on an errand for the captain this morning and hasn’t come back yet.
She ducks deeper into the shadows as he takes a look around the bar, but he doesn’t see her. Her heart races in her chest and the fingers of her sweaty hand are digging into her leather of her belt.
Maybe he’s just passing through. Maybe he’ll be gone by tomorrow, off to another harbour. She can lie low for a night. Make herself invisible.
She’s killed men like him, dozens of them, more than she can readily remember. Men taller than him, stronger than him, meaner than him. But right now she doesn’t think she could even move. The scars on her back burn like fire.
All these years, all these miles she’s come, and she’s just a scared little girl again. She’s disgusted by herself.
Her eyes map out the way to the exit, but then she sees him move from the bar. He’s striding through the room purposefully, evades a propositioning whore, straight towards the table the captain is sitting at.
No, no, no.
Anne quickly stuffs her hair into her collar, pulls her hat deeper into her face and starts to follos him. She’s smaller than most of the patrons, so she can duck into their shadows as she’s making her way a path parallel to his. She watches him pull the empty chair out and sit down, sees the captain’s eyes narrow at the unexpected company.
She hides behind a wooden beam with her back pressed to it, close enough to the table so she can hear their conversation over the din of the room.
“Charles Vane. I heard you made a pretty big prize yesterday. Congratulations.” His voice is as she remembers, smooth and polished, belying his rugged appearance. She pushes her fingernails into her thigh until it hurts.
“Who the fuck are you?” she hears in the captain’s gruff voice. He’s not in a good mood, she can tell, even if she hadn’t witnessed his spat with Eleanor earlier. What she doesn’t know is whether that’s good or bad for her.
“Just a fellow privateer. I came to enquire about somebody on your crew.”
“If you came to poach one of ‘em, you can fuck right off.”
She can see him raise his hands in surrender out of the corner of her eyes, hears the smile on his face. “Not as such. But you have a woman on board of your ship, do you not?”
“What business is she of yours?”
“A bit unusual, is it not? But I imagine it comes with some… amenities.”
There’s a moment of silence between them during which Anne grinds her teeth until her jaw hurts. But then Vane’s next words catch her by surprise.
“You’re her husband.”
Of course he knows. But knowing and remembering are two different things.
“I’m afraid so. James Bonny, at your service.”
“If you have something to settle with her, you should speak to her directly.”
“Well, I was hoping you could help me find her, in the first place. But also so we could come to an agreement, amongst gentlemen.”
Anne almost snorts out loud through her nose despite herself. Nobody has ever called Charles Vane a gentleman in her vicinity for as long as she can remember.
“What kind of an agreement?”
“Well, I assume she is of some value to you, since you keep her around.”
“She’s no lesser fighter than the rest of my crew. In fact, she’s probably better than most.” She can’t help but stand up a little straighter. He’d never said something like that to her face.
But James Bonny, that bastard, laughs like that’s the funniest joke he’s ever heard. “I’m sure she has some… redeeming qualities. In fact, they are well known to me. Be that as it may, I’m sure that we can agree on a sum that will compensate you for your troubles.”
She can hear the captain shift his weight on the chair, the sound of a leg scraping over the floor. “My people are not for sale.”
“Everything is for sale, at the right price.”
Anne winces internally. She’s well aware of the sore spot James Bonny (never just James, never again) is pressing here, even if he’s not.
Vane’s voice takes on a dangerous edge. “All men - and women - that sail under the black are free. To say otherwise will make you no friends here.”
“Either way”, he continues, “Anne Bonny swoar an oath to me. Until I release her or she rescinds that oath, she remains part of the Ranger crew like any other.”
She can practically hear the joviality fall away like a curtain. “Anne Bonny belongs to me. She was wedded to me before the eyes of god and men.”
“The fuck do I care about your god, or your men for the matter. English law does not rule in Nassau. You want your wife back, you’re gonna have to come get her yourself.”
“I will.“
“Good for you. Now get the hell out of my face.”
James Bonny slowly gets out of his chair. “Wow, she must’ve really honed her skills in the last few years. And I guess she’s pretty in the right light. I can see why you don’t want to lose her.”
Anne dares to peer past the beam for a quick glance at the captain’s face. For a moment she thinks he’s going to stand up and draw his sword, and kill James Bonny where he stands. Do it, she begs him in her mind, do it.
Instead she watches Charles Vane slowly settle back into his chair, fixing James Bonny a look that would’ve sent a lesser man fleeing.
But James Bonny perseveres a moment longer. “That is your final word on the matter?”
“It is.”
“Well, that is unfortunate. Either way, I’ve come to settle any outstanding debts she may have caused.” She can hear the heavy clinking of coins and doesn’t have to look to know that the purse that is being set onto the table contains a considerable sum.
“I will also set out a finder’s fee, paid to any man that will tell me her whereabouts. Send one of your men to the Nereus in case you change your mind.”
With that he turns to leave. She quickly slips out of her hiding place and ducks into the crowd before she can be discovered.
She doesn’t notice the captain’s eyes follow her on her departure.
Team: Ophelia
Challenge: Angst - Lebenskrise (Für's Team)
Fandom: Black Sails
Charaktere: Anne Bonny, James Bonny, Charles Vane
Sprache: Englisch
Wörter: 1.200
Kommentar: Hier fehlt noch die zweite Hälfte, aber ich quäl mich damit schon so lange, dass ich fand, dass mir dafür schon ein Punkt zustand.
At first she doesn’t even recognize him.
At first she doesn’t even recognize him.
He’s just another man in the room, moving through the crowd towards the bar to get a drink. But something makes Anne’s gaze catch, makes it linger on his figure, something familiar. She watches from the corner as the bartender puts a cup of rum in front of him and accepts his payment. Then the man throws a look over his shoulder, eyes trailing after a passing whore, and it’s like somebody dropped a block of ice into her stomach.
It can’t be. He can’t be here. Not here. Not now.
The light in the bar is dim, but then he leans closer to a burning candle and she can make out his face more clearly, from the shape of his nose to the scar running down his cheek. The scar Jack gave him.
Jack, who went on an errand for the captain this morning and hasn’t come back yet.
She ducks deeper into the shadows as he takes a look around the bar, but he doesn’t see her. Her heart races in her chest and the fingers of her sweaty hand are digging into her leather of her belt.
Maybe he’s just passing through. Maybe he’ll be gone by tomorrow, off to another harbour. She can lie low for a night. Make herself invisible.
She’s killed men like him, dozens of them, more than she can readily remember. Men taller than him, stronger than him, meaner than him. But right now she doesn’t think she could even move. The scars on her back burn like fire.
All these years, all these miles she’s come, and she’s just a scared little girl again. She’s disgusted by herself.
Her eyes map out the way to the exit, but then she sees him move from the bar. He’s striding through the room purposefully, evades a propositioning whore, straight towards the table the captain is sitting at.
No, no, no.
Anne quickly stuffs her hair into her collar, pulls her hat deeper into her face and starts to follos him. She’s smaller than most of the patrons, so she can duck into their shadows as she’s making her way a path parallel to his. She watches him pull the empty chair out and sit down, sees the captain’s eyes narrow at the unexpected company.
She hides behind a wooden beam with her back pressed to it, close enough to the table so she can hear their conversation over the din of the room.
“Charles Vane. I heard you made a pretty big prize yesterday. Congratulations.” His voice is as she remembers, smooth and polished, belying his rugged appearance. She pushes her fingernails into her thigh until it hurts.
“Who the fuck are you?” she hears in the captain’s gruff voice. He’s not in a good mood, she can tell, even if she hadn’t witnessed his spat with Eleanor earlier. What she doesn’t know is whether that’s good or bad for her.
“Just a fellow privateer. I came to enquire about somebody on your crew.”
“If you came to poach one of ‘em, you can fuck right off.”
She can see him raise his hands in surrender out of the corner of her eyes, hears the smile on his face. “Not as such. But you have a woman on board of your ship, do you not?”
“What business is she of yours?”
“A bit unusual, is it not? But I imagine it comes with some… amenities.”
There’s a moment of silence between them during which Anne grinds her teeth until her jaw hurts. But then Vane’s next words catch her by surprise.
“You’re her husband.”
Of course he knows. But knowing and remembering are two different things.
“I’m afraid so. James Bonny, at your service.”
“If you have something to settle with her, you should speak to her directly.”
“Well, I was hoping you could help me find her, in the first place. But also so we could come to an agreement, amongst gentlemen.”
Anne almost snorts out loud through her nose despite herself. Nobody has ever called Charles Vane a gentleman in her vicinity for as long as she can remember.
“What kind of an agreement?”
“Well, I assume she is of some value to you, since you keep her around.”
“She’s no lesser fighter than the rest of my crew. In fact, she’s probably better than most.” She can’t help but stand up a little straighter. He’d never said something like that to her face.
But James Bonny, that bastard, laughs like that’s the funniest joke he’s ever heard. “I’m sure she has some… redeeming qualities. In fact, they are well known to me. Be that as it may, I’m sure that we can agree on a sum that will compensate you for your troubles.”
She can hear the captain shift his weight on the chair, the sound of a leg scraping over the floor. “My people are not for sale.”
“Everything is for sale, at the right price.”
Anne winces internally. She’s well aware of the sore spot James Bonny (never just James, never again) is pressing here, even if he’s not.
Vane’s voice takes on a dangerous edge. “All men - and women - that sail under the black are free. To say otherwise will make you no friends here.”
“Either way”, he continues, “Anne Bonny swoar an oath to me. Until I release her or she rescinds that oath, she remains part of the Ranger crew like any other.”
She can practically hear the joviality fall away like a curtain. “Anne Bonny belongs to me. She was wedded to me before the eyes of god and men.”
“The fuck do I care about your god, or your men for the matter. English law does not rule in Nassau. You want your wife back, you’re gonna have to come get her yourself.”
“I will.“
“Good for you. Now get the hell out of my face.”
James Bonny slowly gets out of his chair. “Wow, she must’ve really honed her skills in the last few years. And I guess she’s pretty in the right light. I can see why you don’t want to lose her.”
Anne dares to peer past the beam for a quick glance at the captain’s face. For a moment she thinks he’s going to stand up and draw his sword, and kill James Bonny where he stands. Do it, she begs him in her mind, do it.
Instead she watches Charles Vane slowly settle back into his chair, fixing James Bonny a look that would’ve sent a lesser man fleeing.
But James Bonny perseveres a moment longer. “That is your final word on the matter?”
“It is.”
“Well, that is unfortunate. Either way, I’ve come to settle any outstanding debts she may have caused.” She can hear the heavy clinking of coins and doesn’t have to look to know that the purse that is being set onto the table contains a considerable sum.
“I will also set out a finder’s fee, paid to any man that will tell me her whereabouts. Send one of your men to the Nereus in case you change your mind.”
With that he turns to leave. She quickly slips out of her hiding place and ducks into the crowd before she can be discovered.
She doesn’t notice the captain’s eyes follow her on her departure.