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oddeyecir-cle · 7 months

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i am so invested in this fic its not even funny. PHENOMENAL.

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The walk back to camp felt longer than their journey away from it. Perhaps it was the tiredness that made every step ache, and the exhaustion gnawed at both of them. Unlike Captain Canary, who had eaten a full meal several hours before, Lena still had a hollow stomach yearning for sustenance. She felt every pang, curl, and twist at the sides of her stomach.

In the silence, the Captain made a jest, “I hope you're not scared to wash my men's clothes now.”

In her tired delirium, Lena couldn't help but let out a chuckle, “Of course.”

Soon, the campfire's light greeted them, along with several of his men lazily drunk on the sandy floor. They heaved exhausted sighs like them and two sang shanties while cradling a bottle in hand. Lena noticed how the Captain's tired demeanor changed to what she assumed was a reminiscing smile. His blouse had dried up along with his puffy hair, yet Lena’s clothes remained damp, and her brown locks stayed in a wavy pattern. He had offered his tent on their walk back as a way for her to change privately, and she had thanked him for it. Now, as they stepped foot into camp, she noticed how much progress the crew had made without them. They had cleaned equipment, reorganized the mess of items that always seemed to spill out of crates, rotted food had been discarded, and now those who remained with a semblance of energy worked on fixing what had broken during the sail. The few who cared for their presence met their gaze and either shared a nod or a smirk with eyes that assumed they had done something lustful. For the first time, she wasn’t disgusted with the fact, but embarrassed and felt her face flush. All she could do was raise her chin high and look away from them.

She couldn’t help herself from taking a glance at the captain, smiling tiredly and nodding as they passed their crew towards his tent. And what he had said not so long ago echoed in her head, ‘…you’re amusing. Entertainment would be the ladies at the brothels or inns.’ In her own odd mix of emotions, she knew it hurt, yet she hated that it did. She bit the inside of her cheek, preferring to focus on the physical pain than the one she had no control over.

As they approached the tent's closed opening, she turned to him, not holding back on her coldness, “Captain Canary,” she watched his brows furrow and swiftly go back to stillness, “I still don’t have clothes. Sorry to ask more of you, but may I have a pair to change into.”

He remained silent, and her coldness didn’t waver. She couldn’t afford to deal with emotions anymore; that much she’d come to understand. Her time with them would be short, and then she’d be left to the world to be eaten by. She needed to focus on her survival now. With the necklace around her neck, she hoped the madness would end after tonight, along with everything else.

She waited for an answer as he studied her, wondering what he was contemplating. In the firelight, he glowed, looking beautiful, and that pinch at her heart came again. “It’s fine, I’ll ask Mark then.”

“No.” He held one of the flaps wide enough for her to enter through. “Uh…” he remained in his thoughts, “I believe one of my chests has clothes, men's, again.”

He kept his eyes on her, almost like looking for something within hers, and Lena looked away, slightly nodding and entering through the tall tent.

In the center of the tent, a sturdy pillar held a lantern suspended by an iron hook, casting a soft, flickering glow of candlelight. Against one of the tent's walls stood a simple bed, and two wooden chests were positioned near the head of the bed. The chest on the left was strewn with three maps, a magnifying glass, and a collection of pens. The other chest held the Captain's signature black hat and weathered boots.

Lena assumed that the chest containing the Captain's accessories must also house his spare clothing. She carefully moved his belongings to his bed and noticed a small drawing that had slipped onto the sandy floor. It depicted a rudimentary sun in the sky with a rather amateurish attempt at a land silhouette. Lena picked it up, and although she couldn't be sure, it seemed like the work of a child. She briefly pondered why the Captain possessed such a drawing but quickly dismissed the thought, realizing that dwelling on it might only increase her fondness for him. She had already had enough of that.

Turning her attention to the chest, she found an assortment of satchels, bags, and clothing. Sorting through the contents, she selected items that she believed would fit her reasonably well, prioritizing size over aesthetics. She chose a pair of brown, long trousers, which she rolled up at the ankles to prevent them from dragging on the ground. Next, she picked out a loose-fitting white button-up shirt that extended all the way to her neck. To cinch the pants securely at her waist, she opted for a long red scarf, tying it carefully over and around her waist.

Before venturing back out into the camp, Lena heard the Captain's voice calling to her from beyond the tent's canvas walls. The campfire's soft, flickering light cast his silhouette onto the fabric, causing her heart to skip a beat. She let out a resigned sigh and beckoned for him to come in. As he entered, he extended a plate of food toward her, and she eagerly accepted it with a swift nod. After taking a satisfying bite, she gestured toward the tent's entrance, indicating her intention to leave. But just as she was about to step out, he called to her again, causing her to halt in her tracks.

Outside, the echoing hum of words and those who sang along, Lena heard her heartbeat in rhythm. She felt frail and lost with thought now that he stood in front of her again, but with an air of deep intention about him that she had yet to understand. She held onto her plate tightly and couldn’t help but to notice how enchanting he looked in the candlelight. He was always mesmerizing, just like when she first laid her eyes on him at the tavern. She was sure by his demeanor and how his eyes never left hers, that he’s trying to figure her out just as she’s been doing now.

“Do you hate me, Lena?” His words carried a surprising directness that momentarily caught her off guard. After a brief pause, she found a simple response, “No.”

“Did I cause you pain?” he inquired once more.

Purposely? No. She inhaled deeply and shook her head. Now, it was he who sighed in exasperation, leaning against the tent's central pillar, his arms folded across his chest. “Lena, you're not being truthful with me—”

“I'm not,” she retorted, her voice sharper than she'd intended. The urge to walk away, to distance herself from this inexplicable emotion she hadn't yet tamed, swelled within her. Yet, the desire to hold him, to intertwine her fingers with his and feel the warmth of his closeness, was stronger. She had witnessed the maids do it with their lovers when they came to visit, and despite the hint of childishness, she longed for a love like that – to be cherished not for her title or wealth, but for her heart.

“Fine, then what is it?” he pressed.

It wasn't embarrassment or fear that could have restrained her. Only if he had shown hatred or anger toward her could she have held back from blurting out the truth. But here he was, caring, and she fell for it. “I want to kiss you.”

The admission felt like an electric jolt coursing through her veins and into her heart. Her shoulders relaxed, as though they had been released from a heavy burden she had been carrying. However, her hands felt cold and trembled, and everything within her seemed to descend into chaos once more.

He straightened up and observed her with a new intensity. Lena struggled to regain her composure, but her mouth formed words that went unspoken, only to be swallowed back down. She came to terms with the fact that nothing she said was wrong or required an excuse. She placed the plate down on the chest with maps, as her hunger became entwined with a different kind of ache.

“Do it, then,” he challenged.

Her eyes slightly widened, and she took a step back, freezing in place. Her hands clung to the scarf around her waist, as if her stomach were a fluttering cage of butterflies.

“If you want to kiss me, then do it,” he repeated, the demand evident in his voice. “I've never known you to coward away from your desires.”

She stood there, unable to move, her senses electrified by a whirlwind of excitement, desire, and disbelief all at once. The tent felt smaller, the lantern's soft glow dancing erratically as her heart pounded.

Captain Canary remained steadfast, his eyes locked onto hers, challenging her to act on her words. It was as though the air in the tent crackled with anticipation. The tension between them, once obscure and unspoken, was now palpable.

“Do I have to—” She cut him off as he took his first steps toward her, and in a desperate want, she walked towards him, capturing his lips with hers. He stumbled back slightly but steadied himself against the pillar. Standing on her toes, Lena gripped his collar and deepened their kiss. One of his hands found its way to the small of her back, while the other cradled the back of her head. With each passing second, she absorbed as much of him as she could, allowing his scent to envelop her and his soft lips to meld with hers. She wanted to etch this moment into her memory, to hold onto every detail of him, because after they finally parted for breath, she decided it would be their last.

The kiss was a rush of emotions she couldn't quite define, a mixture of longing, confusion, and a strange kind of liberation. As they finally pulled away, she couldn't help but stare into his eyes, searching for something she couldn't quite put her finger on. He looked at her, his expression unreadable, and then a small, genuine smile broke across his face.

“Well, that wasn't so bad, was it?” he teased, brushing a strand of her hair away from her face.

Lena was still breathless, her heart racing as she struggled to find her words. “No, it wasn't.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but it held a hint of satisfaction.

He chuckled softly and leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Now, as much as I'd like to continue this—”

She took another step back, creating some distance between them, her eyes conflicted but determined. “We won't,” she repeated, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and resolve. This decision scared her more than anything; denying him after she’d made the move. She should have walked away after her admission, but she couldn't. She couldn't afford to act like a coward now, not after what had transpired between them.

His brows furrowed in confusion, and he reached out as if to touch her, to bridge the distance she had created. But her steps back caused his hands to falter and drop to his sides. “What?” His voice held a note of bewilderment, and he took a step toward her, trying to close the growing emotional gap between them. But when she attempted to move back again, he gently but firmly grasped her arm, keeping her in place and loomed over her.

Lena cast her eyes down at his grip, her hand gently covering his as if to convey her understanding. “I'm sorry, Captain—”

“Haechan,” he corrected her, his voice soft but insistent. She pursed her lips but didn't argue the point.

Her hand moved away from his as she made her words sound as resolute as possible. “There's no point in letting this go further when we know it won't last.”

His other hand began a slow trail from her left arm, up her neck, and came to rest gently on her jaw. His touch was tender, and his voice was filled with a quiet plea. "Then stay. Stay, Lena." His words resonated in the small space between them, and she felt their weight. It was what she had wanted before, to be part of the crew, to sail with them until she could find a resolution to her troubles.

But she knew it wasn't that simple. She would be making a decision based on fear and desperation, and she had made those kinds of choices before. Now, she wanted to explore her possibilities, see the world through her own eyes, and walk her own path. She had tasted freedom, and she couldn't settle for a pirate's life when there could be other adventures awaiting her.

Then there was him. Two conflicting thoughts waged a battle in her mind. He had been her first, the first to capture her heart and the first to share a kiss with her. But what if there was someone else out there, someone she could truly love? She didn't even know enough about herself to understand what unconditional love might mean for her.

Yet, here was a man asking for her love, and the thought terrified her. What if there was no one else, no other love waiting for her? What if it was just him, and she let him slip away to the sea, praying that their paths might cross again someday? The uncertainty of it all left a bitter taste in her mouth, and she felt the weight of her decision pressing down on her shoulders.

“It is what it is…Captain,” she muttered under her breath, her words barely audible as she turned away. She left him behind, the lack of footsteps behind her signaling his lingering presence. The knowing smirks from some of the crew members greeted her, but she dismissed them with a curt nod of her head.

Dismissing their reactions, she pressed on, determined to finish what should have been done since daylight. She crossed the camp and made her way toward the shore where the large boulder and sacks waited for her attention. The sight of the sea still stirred a sense of fear within her, and she knew it would take time to overcome that fear. Yet, intertwined with that fear was a new sensation, a tingling in her stomach that arose at the thought of him.

When she woke up, Lena dutifully followed the list of tasks assigned to her, her determination unwavering. She worked alongside Gus, helping him chop food and store it in a way that would slow down its spoilage. Then, she assisted Jeno with the equipment, although he was far from an amusing companion, and Chenle with the various organizing and cleaning chores that needed attention.

Initially, the boys stared at her in awe as she quietly tackled each task, nodding in agreement with any orders they threw her way. Even when faced with difficulties, she bore the burden alone, determined not to complain. By the end of each task, they would smile, seemingly finding pleasure in her resolute behavior.

As her hands became red and swollen from the labor, particularly due to Jeno's demanding assignments, he motioned for her to accompany him towards the beach. When they reached the broken shore, he gestured for her to dip her hands into the water. Both of them crouched by the shoreline, allowing the cool water to alleviate the aches and pricks in their palms and fingertips. Lena glanced at Jeno and noticed a rare sense of tranquility on his face. It was the first time she had seen him so at peace, and it brought a faint smile to her lips.

With his eyes closed, Jeno casually broke the silence, “So, did the Captain break your heart?”

Annoyance flickered in Lena's narrowed eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she retorted.

Jeno remained in his position but opened one eye to look at her. “Or was it the other way around?”

Deciding to play along, Lena responded with a playful smirk, “Would you like to be next?”

His response was an unexpected burst of hearty laughter. He stood up, playfully kicking water towards her, causing her to gasp. Lena quickly got to her feet and retaliated, resulting in a water fight between the two of them.

“Jeno,” the Captain's voice called out from behind, drawing Jeno's attention. The Captain approached them with an unbothered demeanor, his hands tucked casually into his pockets.

Lena might have taken this as a signal to leave, as shortly after, Jeno offered a quick 'ay' and departed. However, not before raising a taunting brow at Lena. She watched him depart, offering a slight nod to the Captain as he passed by, then shifted her gaze towards him.

“Seems you two finally get along,” he remarked as he stopped right beside her, filling the void left by Jeno.

Tilting her head, she wasn't quite sure how to interpret his comment. “If you consider him poking at my predicament as ‘getting along,’ sure.”

He let out a soft laugh and clicked his tongue. “About that—”

Unable to restrain herself, she interjected, fearing he might persuade her to stay if she didn't. “I still haven’t changed my mind.”

He nodded, stretching his arms within his pockets and rocking back and forth on his heels. “Then I’ve come to tell you that I haven’t changed mine either. I’ll do what I have to, to convince you to stay.”

Flabbergasted, she stared at him. “You can’t do that—”

“But I can,” he asserted.

Lena sighed heavily. “You’re being annoying.” With each step she took away from him, she was reminded of the exhaustion that had consumed her throughout the day, and the sun had yet to set.

He followed closely behind her. “No, I’m doing what Lena does.”

She glanced back at him mockingly but kept walking. “Oh, and what's that?”

“Being stubborn when she wants something.”

At his response, she abruptly turned around to face him. With pursed lips, she regarded him, but he met her gaze with a cocked brow and his hands resting by his hips. His chest rose and fell in rapid succession, likely from having to chase after her.

“Fine,” she said, a stubborn determination in her eyes that couldn't be ignored. “I can’t stop you from being stubborn, but understand this: it won’t deter me either, Captain. I have an insatiable desire to explore the world on my own terms, and that's my final decision.”

He tilted his head back, a disbelieving expression crossing his face. “Is that the reason behind your decision?” A small chuckle escaped him. “Lena, we can offer you just that. We can sail every corner of the vast seas, traverse every known land, and perhaps even uncover unknown ones. You seek freedom, and I can give it.”

She shook her head firmly, her voice tinged with frustration. “It's not genuine freedom if it's still under your leadership. I won't have the autonomy to choose my destinations or how long I stay. I'll be confined to scrubbing decks and laundering this crew's clothes—”

He interrupted, countering her argument, “And do you believe the world beyond these ship's walls won't require hard work? You'll have to earn your freedom out there as well.”

“That's not the point!” She raised her hands in exasperation. “I don't even know who I am yet, and I need to discover that for myself. I want to make mistakes and figure things out on my own. When I’ll do great things, I want to know I did it without anyone's assistance.” Her gaze briefly turned away from him. "If I stay here, everything I do will be influenced by you, and I can't have that."

“But I'll tell you this,” she began, a sense of determination in her voice, “There's been something on my mind, a question I've been meaning to ask. And I can't think of a better time than now. If it's agreeable to you, I'd like to remain with the crew and sail with you until we leave Pearl Reef. You understand why I can't stay there, so I'm hoping you can grant me this favor, Captain,” she said, her words laced with a mix of frustration and a genuine attempt to convey respect.

He responded with a mock bow, his tone playful, “Consider it done.”

Her heart leaped at his response, and she took in a deep breath, stealing a final glance at him before turning away to resume her duties.

Before their departure in the morning, Lena was escorted to an unfurled mat placed on the sandy shore beside the crackling campfire. She reclined there, observing the men as they indulged in food and drink, weaving tales from the days preceding her arrival on their voyage. Gradually, she found herself captivated by the outlandish and inexplicable details of their stories, prompting her to pose questions. The men responded with animated nods, wearing wide grins as they presented countless reasons why such incredible feats were plausible. Their anecdotes ranged from encounters with intriguing individuals on both land and sea, and with each new tale, Lena couldn't help but share in the collective mirth, her laughter ringing harmoniously with theirs.

Then came their customary rounds of song, with one man initiating the melody and the others swiftly joining in. Some improvised by drumming on crates they used as seats, while another rushed to fetch his guitar, and the crew instinctively synchronized their rhythms. Chenle, with a graceful extension of his hand, approached Lena and invited her to dance. She met him with a nervous yet eager smile, taking his hand into her own. With deliberate steps, he guided her in a dance by the fireside, executing careful spins and twirls, always ensuring they moved away from the fire's edge to avoid mishaps. The crew erupted in cheers and laughter whenever a dancer stumbled on the uneven sandy ground.

That night felt like Lena had been swept into a dream—a world where roles, fortune, and choices were forgotten, leaving only the pure essence of the present. Amidst the joy and revelry, however, he was notably absent, sequestered within his tent, dedicating the night to diligent work on the intricacies of maps.

Now, with only a few hours remaining until they reached Pearl Reef, Lena gazed out at the vast expanse of the sea. She contemplated how swiftly this chapter of her life would conclude and the new one that awaited her. She hoped that her naivety had gained some wisdom, allowing her to make wiser choices in the future.

The current part of their journey was notably smoother, less chaotic than before. Lena couldn't help but attribute it to her growing familiarity with the crew. Most of the sailors rested below deck, with some taking turns on various tasks and others engrossed in card and dice games played atop barrels. A few of them extended invitations to Lena, but she declined, fearing that she might lose more than she could afford to give.

Suddenly, Mark's voice cut through the air, pulling Lena from her thoughts. He emerged from below deck and addressed her, “Lena, Gus has requested that you check on the Captain.”

As Mark passed her and cast a critical eye on the men tending to the rigging, Lena followed him with a furrowed brow. “What? Why?” she inquired.

Mark turned briefly to face her, his expression serious. “Because you follow our orders, as per your role on this ship.”

Rolling her eyes, Lena retorted, “No, I mean, why does Gus want me to check on him? Is the Captain unwell?”

Mark sighed, continuing to pace around the ship. “I don't believe so, but Gus has noticed that the Captain hasn't had an appetite, and he still hasn't returned his plate from this morning.”

She nodded, acknowledging the request, and allowed Mark to continue on his way. She then proceeded towards the Captain's Quarters, coming to a stop at his door. Slight nerves crawled up her arm as she knocked, realizing she hadn't spoken to him since they had agreed on her departure. But when his voice invited her in, she didn't hesitate to step inside.

The sunlit room greeted her, and she found the Captain standing shirtless, admiring his reflection in the mirror. His arm was raised, and just below it, tucked near his left armpit, Lena noticed a pale scar. It was a detail she had never observed before, and she watched as he grazed his fingers over it.

Their eyes met in the mirror, and he slowly lowered his arm, clearing his throat as he reached for his shirt on the bed. Once the shirt was over his head, he attempted to fix his hair and then approached the girl who had unintentionally witnessed something she considered private.

“What's the matter?” he inquired, her gaze drawn to his arms, which were now resting protectively across his chest, while one finger continued to trace gentle circles around the scar.

Her mouth opened, but the words eluded her momentarily. She struggled to form her question, finally clasping her fingers together in front of her. She briefly glanced at the desk, where a plate of untouched food sat. “I was sent to check on you.”

He let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “Gus acts too much like a father and not enough like my cook,” he muttered, before moving to sit down at his leather-covered desk chair. He pulled a stool from underneath the desk, placing it right beside him, inviting her to join him.

Lena obeyed, making her way around the desk and sitting down with her knees drawn almost to her chest. He handed her the plate.

She examined it and then gave him a halfhearted glare. “Do you really want me to feed you again?”

He chuckled but shook his head. “That would certainly be motivating, but no. Eat it for me, consider it my initial attempt to win you over.”

She began picking at some grapes and popping them into her mouth, all while trying to maintain her unamused demeanor. “Food is not the way to my heart, Captain.”

He leaned into his hand, which was propped up by his elbow on the armrest, and flashed a playful smile. “But it certainly does have a way of softening a person.”

She let out a quiet scoff, tearing off a piece of bread and offering it to him, but he declined. Taking a bite herself, she glanced over at the spot where the scar lay hidden beneath fabric. Even though it was concealed, she couldn't help but visualize what she had glimpsed earlier. He continued to absentmindedly trace his finger over it, his right arm resting across his chest.

“Go on, ask.”

She looked up at him and slowly gulped when she noticed the distant and cold expression that had settled on his features. With hesitation, she finally asked, “What happened?”

He straightened in his chair, both hands now resting on the armrests, and began to idly scratch at the leather with his nail. “I was just a small boy,” he began, his tone tinged with a hint of nostalgia. “I had a knack for finding trouble with just a glance.” He chuckled softly. “One day, that knack earned me a bad fate. I crossed paths with a pirate who decided it was merciful to drive a dagger into my side, claiming it was an act of kindness for a child like me.”

Lena stopped eating, setting down the piece of cheese she had picked up, and looked away from him. He continued, his voice steady but carrying the weight of the memories. “I quickly realized I had no means to save my life. Who would save a child from the slums? So I bore the ship, bloodied and hazy, and snuck into their cargo deck. It was only then that I realized it was a privateer's ship, and I was surrounded by others who had been taken from small towns like mine. They called us prisoners, but I doubted the children I saw there had committed crimes grave enough to warrant death. When they saw my fatal wound, a beaten father pretended one of the prisoners had been injured, and a guard took me in, healed what they could, and sent me back below with the others.” He let out a small, hollow laugh. “For a moment, I didn't know whether it was more merciful to die by his blade than to be sent below with the rest.”

Lena's gut churned as he recounted the story with eerie calmness. “Eventually, I bought my way out of death with charisma. Who knew old pirates enjoyed a child with a mouth and a heart half-tethered? I did as you're doing now, and through it all, I watched the prisoners die, one by one. Hunger, illness, thirst, and some even chose to end it themselves. Whenever a body was brought up, I was the one to toss them overboard. For those who survived the voyage, they met their sentence.”

“Is that why you've been avoiding your meals?” Lena inquired, her gaze soft and understanding. She observed as he shifted uncomfortably, looking away and adjusting his position.

“Sometimes, yes,” he admitted.

Lena broke off another piece of bread, scooping out some stuffing and inserting a piece of cheese. She raised it towards him. “You were a clever child who found a way to survive. Don't burden yourself with regrets for choices you had no control over, Captain.”

He held her gaze for a moment, and then a genuine smile broke through his typically stoic expression. He accepted her offering and took a bite.

“Bittersweet is our end,” he murmured with a smile, savoring another bite of food.

Raising an eyebrow, Lena chewed on a grape, swallowed it down, and questioned, “I thought you said you'd try to persuade me to stay.”

“I did,” he replied between bites, “but I'm no captor. I want you, Lena, but not like this.”

She patted her hands on her pants and pushed the plate with the remaining food towards him. Clearing her throat, she gave him a serious, furrowed-brow look. “Want as in treasure or as a woman, Captain.”

He plopped a grape into his mouth, considering her question. “Is there a difference?”

“Quite so, yes.”

He smiled, and the chair squeaked as he leaned back into it. “I'll have you know, I take excellent care of my treasures.”

“I'm not an object,” Lena asserted matter-of-factly, her voice low.

“That you are not.”

Frustration surged through her, and she looked down at her knees for a moment, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath. I can't play these games, she thought. Although the old Lena might have entertained such banter, she had changed. She stood up abruptly and gave him a quick nod. “I need to complete the remaining tasks before we reach Canoga.”

Instead of responding, he simply waved her off as he continued eating, a small, knowing smile gracing his lips. Despite her annoyance at his response, she couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth, knowing that smile was directed at her.

Canoga shimmered in the bright sunlight, its towering structures reaching skyward in spirals, with colorful glass panes giving it the appearance of a glowing lantern. Along the shore, harbors stretched out, with ships of various sizes docked and swaying gently in the calm sea. Guards were scattered about, their presence more reassuring than threatening, as they patrolled with an air of ease. Fishermen toiled on their nets or counted the day's haul of fish in crates.

Beyond the docks, Lena's gaze fell upon rows of vendors nestled deeper into the city. Booths were covered with red and brown tarps, and people in flowing yet modest attire browsed or haggled with the sellers. They were so close to the bustling city, and the prospect of being among people who weren't pirates filled her with a childlike excitement. However, she couldn't forget the potential dangers awaiting her here. It had been a month, and she was certain that someone must be searching for her. Her father might not have cared for her personally, but he certainly cared about the title and wealth that could be lost. The memory of him caused her hands to grip the wooden railing of the ship tightly.

“Quite the beauty, isn't it?” Chenle approached her and stood beside her. “One of the few cities that still show some kindness to pirates... well, to some extent.”

“Yes,” was all Lena could manage to say.

“It's still the same as I remember it, although not as massive as it once was, but one could argue that's because I've grown,” he added with a hint of nostalgia.

Lena turned to him with curiosity. “You're from Canoga?”

Chenle nodded slightly, offering a small bow of his head. “Born and raised until the age of eleven. You can thank the Captain for that. He always got us into trouble until he got us out.”

“What?” Lena asked, her confusion evident.

With a playful glance her way, Chenle laughed. “What? Did you think the Captain was born at sea or something?”

“You're saying you knew the Captain as a child?”

He shook his head while chuckling and then returned his gaze to the city they were approaching. “What else would I be saying?”

“But I thought he sneaked onto the ship alone and left Canoga,” Lena stated, puzzled.

Chenle made an understanding sound and glanced at her. “So he told you that.” She nodded, and she watched as he ruffled the back of his hair, stretching a little before returning to lean on the rail. “He never likes to mention me in that part of the story. He hates himself for risking my life.”

Unable to contain her curiosity, Lena pressed, “What happened?”

“The parts he skipped over? Well... it was a deal gone wrong, I would say,” Chenle began. “I had come across a pretty little thing—a pendant from the Li'Pold family—and Haechan took it from my neck. We had been starving for three days, and I wasn't the best at keeping myself together. While I was waiting for him to return from his search for food, he was out bargaining for it.”

“You were just children... no one would have given you anything,” Lena commented quietly, almost to herself, still in disbelief.

“Yeah, well, at the time, who wasn't starving, and we weren't exactly liked,” Chenle replied. He then redirected the conversation to the story at hand. “But I should have gone with him... He's great at many things, but when desperation mixes with his temper, it doesn't bode well for anyone around him.” He sighed at the memory and stepped away from the railing, his arms folded across his chest. “When I finally went to find him, he was bleeding, and I tried to carry him back to our spot. But I couldn't... not an ounce of strength in me could lift him, and we both tumbled down. He told me to stay put and got up as if the wound was nothing, but I knew it was serious. With every step, there was hesitation and faltering. He said he'd get food from one of the ships and that we'd both be strong again,” he paused, his expression growing solemn. “But he took too long, and I went after him. It was only afterward that I realized we were trapped on a privateer's ship.”

“Alright, everyone in your positions!” the Captain bellowed as he emerged from his quarters. He strode purposefully around the deck, his sharp eyes overseeing the crew's coordinated efforts.

Lena anticipated that those on the harbor would be observing their every move, but to her surprise, they continued with their own tasks, only sparing occasional glances in their direction. She thought back to what Chenle had mentioned earlier. I guess they've grown accustomed to pirates by now, she mused, acknowledging the truth of his words.

As the ship berthed at the docks, the anchor was swiftly released, the sails were furled, and the gangplank was promptly lowered onto the dock. Four crew members dashed down the narrow bridge and swiftly secured the ropes around the jutting stones, ensuring the ship remained firmly in place.

Behind her, Lena felt the warm, gentle breath of the Captain as he leaned down beside her ear, his voice a soft whisper. “I know this isn't your ideal place to be. But if I were you, I'd take a walk around and get to know the place. I'd even be willing to show you around, if you'd like.”

She remained still, her composure unruffled by his proximity. “I'd be delighted to follow your lead, Captain Canary.”

The soft, cool sensation of his breath left her neck as he stepped away and extended a hand to her. Before she placed her hand in his, she took a moment to observe his new attire—a loose-fitting brown v-neck shirt adorned with three delicate gold chains around his neck, snug black pants that accentuated his legs and waist, and a black long coat that gracefully draped over his shoulders, with his arms not yet occupying the sleeves. Even the sheen on his black short-heeled boots didn't escape her notice, and she suppressed an impressed smile.

He guided her down the gangplank, and as they stepped onto the harbor, the Captain acknowledged the passing guards with a nod before leading Lena deeper into the town. In a quiet moment, Lena glanced back at the ship and watched the crew busy themselves as the two quartermasters efficiently oversaw the operations.

“Captain?”Lena quietly called for his attention.

“Yes?”

“Shouldn't I be with the crew, performing my duties as the cabin boy?” she asked, her tone tinged with guilt.

“No, they'll manage perfectly well without you,” he reassured her. “Besides, I'm the Captain, and I have the prerogative to decide what you'll be doing. Don't forget, you've committed to serving until our next port.”

She hesitated briefly before nodding. “Right.”

The bustling city harbor of Canoga sprawled before them, a lively tapestry of maritime activity and vibrant commerce. Along the sunlit waterfront, vendors had set up their booths beneath colorful awnings, their wares on display in an inviting array. The streets that stretched from the harbor teemed with a constant flow of people in a mesmerizing dance of movement and life. Merchants peddle their goods, their voices intermingling with the animated chatter of shoppers and traders striking deals. The air was infused with a medley of scents, from the savory aroma of street food vendors grilling skewers to the sweet perfume of exotic spices wafting from market stalls. Canoga's harbor was a sensory symphony, a captivating blend of sights, sounds, and fragrances that could make anyone wander about for hours on end.

At every corner they passed, the Captain eagerly shared his culinary experiences, regaling Lena with tales of dishes he had savored from particular vendors and spinning stories woven with joyful words. It was a stark contrast to Lena's preconceived notions of Canoga, especially after learning about the challenging pasts of the Captain and Chenle. She couldn't help but wonder how such a beautiful place had been the backdrop for their difficult beginnings. Yet, she imagined the Captain must feel a deep sense of pride as he strolled through these streets, even if it was under the title of piracy. A boy who had once crawled on these very floors now walked them with ease.

Their meandering exploration led them to one of the market stalls, where an old lady with bright blue eyes greeted them. Without hesitation, she reached over and affectionately thumped the Captain on his shoulder. He welcomed the gesture with a hearty laugh, a sound that brought genuine delight to Lena's ears.

In response to her friendly gesture, the Captain executed a courtly bow, releasing Lena's hand and placing one hand over his heart while extending the other beside him. “Miss Lorel of Canoga.”

She playfully thumped him again and clicked her tongue. “Don't tease me, Haechan. You promised me a fine wine two sails ago, and yet here I am, still on my feet.”

He scrutinized her booth, squinting as a sunbeam struck his face. “Well, it seems like I’ve made an excellent choice then, or else your shop would have closed months ago.” He wore a teasing smile, while she initially appeared stern. However, as seconds passed, her lips curved into a smile, and she shrugged.

“Ah, a few more customers won't hurt me, I suppose,” she sighed, glancing over her assortment of wares.

As the Captain and Lorel continued their lively banter about his youth, Lena couldn't help but take in her surroundings. The women in the market gracefully moved about, their attire comprised of vibrant, colorful dresses, though not the opulent silks she had once owned. Nevertheless, the garments were striking, crafted with care and artistry. These women carried baskets on their forearms, laden with food and goods, or wore bags slung across their bodies. Some were accompanied by children, while others strolled alone. For a brief moment, Lena pondered the prospect of such a life: a modest home to call her own, dresses chosen to her liking, and the simple pleasure of walking through town. She wondered if their next destination would be as charming as Canoga.

Her reverie was interrupted when a man standing beside her placed a bag of coins on the stall's table. He nodded at one of the small daggers displayed in a glass wooden box. However, his gesture was met with contempt from Lorel.

“I don't sell to thieves,” she sneered at him, gesturing toward the small bag of coins. “You can take your filthy money.”

The man grumbled, “High and mighty words for someone who sells to pirates.”

Lorel glanced at the Captain and then back at the man. “They know how to conduct proper business.”

The man chuckled, his laughter laced with a sense of mock. “Oh, please, the only difference between us is that he sails,” he remarked, turning his gaze toward the Captain and giving a nod of acknowledgement. “Captain.”

So, he's known here, Lena mused inwardly, though she supposed that shouldn't have come as a surprise. The man's attention then shifted to Lena, and a sly smirk curled on his lips. “Quite the beauty you've captured this time, Canary,” he observed, his eyes briefly scanning her attire with an air of amusement. “And rather unconventional, I must say.”

Feeling a protective grip, Lena's hand was securely held by the Captain. “What can I say? My tastes have changed like the seasons.”

She glanced over her shoulder to see the Captain raising an eyebrow at the man, his smile a challenge, daring the man to take another step toward her. Yet, the man remained steadfast, his gaze fixed on her, his once playful expression shifting to a more analytical one. He pointed a finger in her direction and then let it fall, shaking his head in contemplation. Retrieving his bag, he shot a venomous glare at the old lady. However, before he departed, he nodded once more at the Captain. “Quite the piece you've got.”

Lena's unease still lingered after their interaction with the man, but the Captain's comforting squeeze on her hand provided a small measure of solace. “Let's say I take you to one of my favorite taverns—a meal to delight your soul?” he proposed playfully, his eyes warm and reassuring, causing the old lady who had witnessed their exchange to roll her eyes.

Lena nodded, her lips pursed with a hint of a smile, trying to convey her gratitude and reassurance. As they prepared to depart the market, the Captain offered a friendly farewell to the old woman, and Lena waved in kind. They left the marketplace behind, heading toward the tavern with a mix of curiosity and relief, leaving the bustling market and its curious onlookers behind.

Their footsteps carried them away from the bustling market, into the winding streets of Canoga. Lena couldn't help but glance around, taking in the vibrant scenes and sounds of the city that contrasted so sharply with her expectations. People bustled about, going about their daily routines, their colorful clothing and lively chatter filling the air.

The Captain led her through narrow alleyways and winding streets, expertly navigating the labyrinthine city as if he knew it like the back of his hand. Occasionally, he'd point out interesting sights or share anecdotes about the city's history, weaving tales with his words that kept Lena captivated.

As they approached the tavern, the aroma of savory dishes and the sound of merry patrons spilled out into the street. The Captain held the door open, allowing Lena to step inside, where warmth and laughter enveloped her. It was a welcome change from the life she had known aboard the ship.

Inside the tavern, the atmosphere was cozy and inviting. Wooden beams adorned with lanterns and colorful flags crisscrossed the low ceiling. The flickering candlelight danced across the faces of the patrons, casting a warm, inviting glow.

The Captain led Lena to a corner table, strategically positioned for privacy and an excellent view of the tavern's interior. They settled into their seats, and a serving wench promptly approached, taking their orders. Lena chose a hearty seafood stew, while the Captain opted for a dish of roasted meats and vegetables.

As they waited for their meal to arrive, the Captain leaned in and spoke in a softer tone, as if sharing a secret. “Canoga may be a city of contrasts, my dear Lena, but it's also a city of opportunities. You see, every place has its hidden treasures, and every person has their secrets. It's a matter of knowing where to look and when to ask the right questions.”

The Captain's words resonated with Lena, and she couldn't help but wonder about his own journey. She leaned in, her eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and earnestness. “Captain,” she began, her voice soft but filled with genuine curiosity, “why did you choose to stay a pirate?”

The Captain's gaze drifted for a moment as he recalled the path that had led him to his current life. The tavern's ambiance seemed to change as he began to speak, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. “Well,” he began, “ I suppose I chose this life because it offered me a freedom I couldn't find anywhere else.”

He continued, his eyes distant yet focused. “When you're out on the open sea, it's as if the world belongs to no one and everyone at the same time. No kings, no laws, no judgments—just the endless horizon and the choices you make.”

The Captain's gaze returned to Lena, and he offered a warm, almost wistful smile. “But perhaps the most important reason is the crew. These are people who have become my family, my loyal companions through thick and thin. We've shared victories and hardships, laughter and tears. In a world filled with uncertainty, they've given me a sense of belonging.”

The wench arrived with their steaming meals, placing them before Lena and the Captain. The savory aroma of the dishes filled the air, and Lena felt a mix of gratitude and newfound understanding. In this vibrant city, over a meal she hadn't anticipated, Lena began to grasp the complexities of the man she had follow across the seas.

As Lena and the Captain enjoyed their meals, savoring each bite and continuing their conversation about life's twists and turns, a sudden hush fell over the tavern. The lively chatter faded into a nervous murmur, and Lena sensed that something had disrupted the tranquility of this place.

She looked around, her eyes scanning the room for any signs of trouble. That's when she saw him—the Marquess Li'Pold, a man of considerable stature and wealth, known for his opulent lifestyle and strong influence within Canoga. At twenty-three years old, he cut an imposing figure with his tailored crimson coat adorned with golden trimmings. His hair was dark and meticulously styled, framing a face that was as handsome as it was stern.

The Marquess was accompanied by a group of guards, each wearing the crest of House Li'Pold—a soaring hawk with its wings outstretched. Their presence in the tavern sent a shiver through the patrons, and even the Captain's easygoing demeanor seemed to stiffen.

Lena felt her heart quicken its pace, her mind racing with a torrent of thoughts. She glanced at the Captain, whose expression had grown more somber. It was then that she realized the Marquess had come here with a purpose.

The Marquess approached their table with a determined stride, his piercing gaze locked onto the Captain. “Captain Canary,” he announced, his voice carrying an air of authority that demanded attention. “Who would have believed you to be a man to steal another one’s fiance?”

The Captain's eyes narrowed at the accusation, and he leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed but his tone unwavering. “Marquess Li'Pold,” he began, his voice laced with a hint of amusement, “I assure you, I'm not in the habit of stealing anyone's fiancee. She is here of her own accord, and we are merely enjoying a meal together.”

“Marquess Li'Pold,” Lena addressed him, her voice trembling but determined, “I left willingly. I just wanted to see the seas and adventure out.”

The Marquess's expression remained unyielding, and for a moment, silence hung heavy in the air. The Captain leaned forward, his tone carrying a hint of exasperation. “Surely, Marquess, you can see that the lady is not under duress. We mean no harm.”

But the Marquess was not one to be easily convinced. He motioned to his guards, who took a step closer, their hands resting on the hilts of their weapons. “Captain Canary,” he said, his voice cold and authoritative, “I will give you one last chance to release the lady into my custody peacefully. Refuse, and there will be consequences.”

Lena's heart raced as the situation teetered on the edge of confrontation. She looked at the Captain, silently pleading for a solution that would spare them from whatever consequences the Marquess had in mind. The tension in the tavern escalated with every passing second, and Lena felt a growing sense of despair. She had hoped that reason would prevail, but it seemed that the Marquess was determined to assert his authority.

As the Marquess's guards began to close in on the Captain, Lena made a final attempt to clarify the situation. “Marquess Li'Pold, please, you don't understand. I left on my own—”

But before she could finish her sentence, the Marquess cut her off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Enough,” he snapped. “I have no time for your fabricated tales, my dear.”

With a cold, calculating look, the Marquess signaled to his guards, and they moved with swift and brutal efficiency. Two of them grabbed the Captain by his arms, yanking him out of his chair with such force that it toppled to the ground. The Captain's expression shifted from bemusement to anger as he resisted the guards' grasp, but their combined strength proved overwhelming.

Lena's heart pounded in her chest as she watched in horror, unable to comprehend the sudden turn of events. She knew she had to do something, say something to stop this madness, but fear gripped her, rendering her momentarily paralyzed.

As the guards dragged the Captain toward the tavern's exit, Lena found her voice and screamed, “Stop! This is a mistake! He hasn't done anything wrong!”

But her protests fell on deaf ears as the Marquess and his guards continued their unrelenting advance. The Captain shot a desperate glance back at Lena, his eyes filled with frustration and helplessness.

“You’ll be okay, Lena!” he shouted over his shoulder as he was forcibly removed from the tavern, his voice echoing through the room.

Tears welled up in Lena's eyes as she watched the Captain being taken away. The reality of the situation sank in, and the fear that had gripped her moments ago gave way to a deep sense of dread. She blamed herself and couldn’t stop herself from looking away. She knew that she had to find a way to help him, to prove his innocence, but the overwhelming power and influence of the Marquess seemed insurmountable.

As the tavern's door swung shut behind them, Lena was left standing alone, trembling and devastated, in the midst of a silent and stunned crowd. Li’Pold stood beside her, anger etched in every crevice of his face, and with the last two remaining guards beside her, he signaled for them to grab her. “Take her to my chamber as we have much to discuss,” he ordered, only sparing a glance at her before walking ahead. Lena followed behind as the guards secured her.

#haechan fic recs #haechan fics #🐻

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