"Hmmm." She hummed thoughtfully, thinking the idea over. "I like it, but I'd still like to have some new faces. If we can gather a small group of formidable fighters, like a specialized group that doesn't get drunk at all times…" she trailed off, drumming her fingernails once again as she mulled it over. "But making the newbie train the ones we have now is a good idea. I can spar with him to keep up his strength until he's strong enough to start training, if you want."
"Sounds like a great idea. And that team you thought of, you'll lead it. Mumchance it too old for that type of stuff." He took a deep puff of the pipe before continuing. "We're coming onto Pirate's Cove soon. I am going to let half of the crew go to port. While they're doing that, you and Anto will find us some fighters."
Fane nodded, eyes bright with the prospect of hunting—even if it was just for some fighters to recruit. She was itching for something to do besides bark orders all day, and that was the perfect opportunity. "You got it, Cap. Anything else?"
"Nothing," he said, taking another long draw of the tobacco. "Get Mumchance for me if you cross paths. I forgot to tell him something."
She nodded and got up, leaving with a little wave as she strode through the door. Once out, she searched for her pet prince, stalking around the ship and generally looking like she was a woman on a mission.
The door to his shared room was open, allowing the sound of a stone rubbing against steel to be heard.
"Ow!" Anto yelped, followed by a loud thump!
She sighed and rolled her eyes as she approached the room. "You're a moron, you know that?" she drawled as she opened the door further and propped her hip against the doorframe.
The rock was resting on the opposite side of the room, right beneath a small indent in the wood. Anto sat on the bed across from it, sucking his thumb.
"Cut myself," he said, pulling the knife away to show his bleeding thumb.
"And how many times have I told you to not do that?" she asked, raising her brow and shutting the door behind her as she walked in. She'd like to update Anto on the ship's plans without the rest of the crew eavesdropping, especially when it was concerning their performance.
"What did the captain want you for?" he asked, ignoring the question she asked him.
She didn't question his knowledge of the captain wanting her, just sat down on the other bed. She kicked her boots off and tucked her feet underneath her. "He wanted to get an update on you and ask me about how well I thought our ship's crew, fighting-wise. I proposed a specialized group that aren't drunkards, and Cap suggested I get you to train the rest of the crew. We're doing both, so you and I are going to look for the new recruits when we reach land."
"Hm." He licked the blood off of his thumb before speaking. "I am not in any condition to train anyone at the moment."
"Which is where I come in," she said. "From now until you're strong enough, we'll be sparring." She then smirked. "Don't worry, I won't hit too hard."
"Aw, man," he said, flopping on to his back and groaning. "What did I do to deserve such a punishment?"
She rolled her eyes. "Deal with it, princy. Would you rather continue to sit around and rot for another 2 weeks?" she challenged, raising a brow.
"…..No, I would not," he grumbled, sitting up again and frowning. "Did he ask you about my backstory at all?"
She shook her head. "Nope. He's only concerned about your potential and fighting capability." She shrugged and folded her arms over her chest. "You're good in a fight—that's all he cares about right now."
"That is….good, I think?" He got to his feet with a grunt, slipping his knifes into his belt. "When will the sparring start?"
"Later," she said, doing the opposite and laying down on Mercedes's bed, her feet propped up against the wall and her head dangling off the side. "I just did some training, so I'm feeling lazy."
"Well, shit." He sat down again, rubbing his ribs. "Mercedes said the rib was healed, but it sure does not feel like it."
"Just take it easy, princy. It'll feel better soon enough if you let it. A freshly healed wound doesn't feel great when you're rough on it." She frowned, anyway, almost as if in concern—but she'd never admit to such thing.
"'Princy'," he echoed, scrunching up his nose. "You are gonna get me fucking killed if you keep calling me that."
"I only call you that when we're alone, princy," she said, looking up at him from her upside-down position. "I'm not an idiot."
He laid his head down on his pillow and sighed. "I am going to start calling you Lady Fane."
She made a disgusted noise. "If anything, call me Rosia—but only if we're alone," she said, shooting him a warning look, however unthreatening she was at the moment.