"He got the bastard that killed my mate. Held his own while doing what he could to protect his crew. I say he did quite well. Took quite a few down with his bare fists." She recounted his fight with the three or four men at the beginning, before she had stepped in.
"Hm. A very unorthodox fighting style for a seaman." Parris took another puff of his pipe before asking his next question. "What's your judge of his character? You can read people better than anyone in this world. Give me your opinion on him."
"He's a puzzle, Cap. Like me," she said, a knowing look in her eyes. Only Parris knew of her past, of the broken little girl he had fished from the ocean. And even then, he only had the bare minimum.
When she was only ten years old, there was a little girl floating in the ocean, desperately holding onto the one plank of driftwood. The pirate captain had grabbed her and helped nurse her back to health, then pestered her for answers. She kept it to a minimum, telling him that she had absentee parents who tossed her off the cliff once they had a major fight. She had the broken bones to prove that small white lie. Beyond that, she told him about the stifling nannies, the cruel kids her age that mocked her parents—and thus her—the childhood fears.
Captain Parris gave her a small smile, setting his pipe down on the desk. "Sounds like you two will get along marvelously. Tell him he's under your command. Let him pick out a weapon from the armory and then tell him he's not allowed to stand until his legs are fully healed. If he has an issue with it, he can take it up with me."
"Got it, Cap," she said with a nod. She was already planning on banning Anto from walking until he was fully healed, so that order wasn't a problem. She then tapped the back of the chair with a finger. "Anything else you need from me?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said, "let Mumchance know that he's your new second mate. He's up to the task."
She held up a thumbs up, then stood and fixed the chair. "Will do. See ya later, Cap." She offered a two-finger salute, then set off to find Mumchance and Anto.
Anto, surprisingly, sat where she had told him to, testing the knife against the hem of his pants. Razor sharp. It pleased him that he now had a deadly weapon in his hands.
Fane came up to him and plucked the knife from him to twirl it through her fingers. "Congrats. You get to pick a weapon," she said tilting her head slightly to look up at him. Her tone suggested there was more she wasn't telling him.
"I cannot keep the knife?" he asked, reaching out for the knife as soon as it was taken from his hand.
"You can pick your own knife," she said, holding the knife out of his reach, more for her entertainment than anything. "You're under my command from now on until further notice. Oh, and you're to not walk until you're fully healed. If you have any problems, you can take it up with Cap."
'how the hell will I get to the armory, then?" he challenged, putting his hands on his hips. "And what if I choose that knife?"
She raised a brow and looked at the knife, then back at him. "If you really want this knife, then you're going to have to fight me for it. If you don't, then I can smudge the rules so you can get to the armory with my help."
"I'm fairly certain that I killed the previous owner of that knife," he grumbled, but didn't take the offer of a fight. He doubted he could've beat her healthy, much less on bad legs. "But fine."
He got to his feet with a grunt, bending over and rubbing his knees. "Ow."
"And this is why I can't have any fun," she muttered to herself, coming over to him and wrapping an arm around him while sneakily sliding the knife into a belt loop. "Alright, Mr stubborn, to the armory we go."
Despite how difficult going down the stairs was, they made it to the armory, which was in the back left corner of the 3rd deck. There were hundreds of various flintlocks, rifles, and bladed weapons stacked neatly in empty barrels. It was more organized than Anto thought it would be
"Welcome to the armory, where pirates come to choose and marry the love of their life," Fane drawled, rolling her eyes. "Take your pick."
He moved away from Fane and leaned against a barrel of knifes, shifting through them. "These need to be sharpened."
She rolled her eyes and leaned against a wall, crossing her arms over her chest. Her hooped earring lightly clinked against the wood as she did so, and she looked down to play with the multiple leather bracelets on her wrists, hiding the faint scars beneath them.
After seemingly reaching the bottom of the barrel, he pulled out a knife that he seemed pleased with. It had a handle with a knuckle guard and bulged out slightly near the tip, balancing the weapon perfectly.
"I am only allowed one weapon, right?" he asked, eyeing the barrel of flintlocks.
"From here, but I'd suggest checking your belt loops to make sure you don't cut yourself on your gift from me to you," she said, now picking at her nails and not looking at Anto. She didn't care what he picked out, just as long as he was happy with his choice.
"This will be fine," he said, slipping the knife into the belt and patting it. "I will just have to not sleep with it."
She rolled her eyes. "I gave you your precious knife back, but I guess my generosity goes unappreciated yet again," she said with a dramatic sigh.
"Hm," he looked from his left hip, where the knuckleduster was hanging, to his right, where the smaller knife now rested. "I am not known for my observational skills."
