Silver Spirits

It took a bit of time for the crew to pull themselves back together, but those able continued to sail, while helping those injured back to health. Thankfully, there were no wounds that were fatal. Some stitches here and there, and everyone was scratched up, but they were alright. With the diminished crew, even those down in the brig were released to help, which they gratefully did in order to get some fresh air. With all of the buzzing about, few noticed that the captain was missing. Ben was far too frustrated with her to go looking for her, though it was hard to push the thought away. It wasn't until he heard faint humming coming from the deck below that he remembered her, following the humming and finding Scarlett curled up in the corner of one of the cells, a half-empty bottle of liquor clenched in her hand and eyes staring straight ahead at nothing in particular. What was she doing in there? Clearly, she'd gone herself since the door was still wide open.

She didn't look up until Ben closed the cell door on her, though he just held it there with his hand instead of locking it. She smirked, leaning her head back and watching him as he stared at her pathetic form on the ground.

"I just wanted to see how it would feel," he told her.

"Feels right, doesn't it?" Scarlett asked.

"I'm not so sure," he admitted. "You're in bad shape, Captain Rose. What are you doing down here?"

"Thinking," she slurred. "And singing. And drinking."

Ben opened the door, looking down at her. She'd patched her own wounds up, but she still looked awful. Probably from the drink she'd used to numb the physical and emotional pain.

"I come down here so no one sees me," she told him as he opened the door again to kneel down across from her. "But here you are."

"Here I am."

"You're annoying."

"Hiding from your feelings will make it hurt even more."

"You're annoying."

"You're drunk," Ben sighed, standing. "Let me take you back up to your quarters."

Scarlett hesitated, but was about to take his hand and stand up when some yelling and running sounded up on deck. By the time they made it up there, Scarlett already knew what was going on, and that it was far too late to stop it. There was a reason Scarlett could never beat her biggest enemy. He was so quick and silent in his attacks, no one ever even saw him coming. That damn cloaking mechanism he had made him impossible to see. And it seemed this was the case here, too. Every person aboard Scarlett's ship was tied up with rope in clusters, with a small group of men triumphantly hovering over them. She noticed another familiar ship next to hers, tied together with rope so the crew could easily board the Spirit. Oh, she was in no shape to deal with this now.

Two men stood taller than the rest. One was the ever menacing Abram, who was lightly tracing the tip of his blade down the side of Emily's face as he asked her where the captain was. To Scarlett's surprise, she didn't say a word back to him. The other older man standing beside Abram looked extremely familiar to Ben, though he was sure he'd never seen him before. From where the two hid, they watched as Abram moved to the next crew member, interrogating them one by one.

"I knew he was following us," Scarlett whispered. "He waited until we were most vulnerable before making himself seen."

"Who's that man with him?" Ben whispered back. "I feel I've seen him before."

"Take a good, long look at him. You're a smart man. You'll figure it out."

Ben narrowed his eyes at the man, taking in his features. Black hair, nearly-black eyes, olive toned skin, massive height... And a menacing gaze that stayed on one crew member in particular. Ben never thought he'd see anyone that made Percy look weak, but he'd never seen the burly man look paler. A hundred emotions seemed to cross his face as he looked away from the man, tied hands shaking.

"Is that his...?"

"Yes."

"My goodness..."

Abram sighed and shook his head, looking back at his crew. "Well, gentlemen, it seems none of them are about to give up their captain. Perhaps it's time to start slitting throats."

Scarlett jumped out of hiding almost instantly, catching Abram's attention. He chuckled, slowly stepping towards her.

"Scarlett, love, were you really trying to hide?"

"Get off my ship," she ordered.

"I never leave any ship empty handed," he announced. "And I know you have something here that I want."

"I have nothing."

"You do have something. You're trying to find something. You've got a map, don't you?" he asked.

"I have nothing," Scarlett insisted. "You can search the ship. You won't find anything."

"She's lying," the other man argued, though Abram didn't seem so sure.

"Quote the contrary, Nathaniel. She's telling the truth," Abram said slowly. "Then where are you going in such a hurry?"

"I'm trying to get as far away from you as I possibly can."

Abram smirked, stepping unnecessarily close to Scarlett and pulling her in by the waist. Normally, no man would get that far, but with Abram, she didn't move a muscle.

"I'll make you a deal," Scarlett told him. "You stay off and away from my ship, and I'll give you whatever you want."

Abram smirked, looking her up and down. "Careful with your deals, lass. You'll find that I'm not after what I used to be. I've found that there is little difference between you and a common prostitute."

Scarlett fought every urge to smack him. "Name your price."

Abram thought for a moment, eyeing the ship. "Alright, then. I'll leave you alone. But consider yourself in exile. If I catch you, I will destroy you all."

"Fine," Scarlett reluctantly agreed.

It was humiliating, but she had a goal to get to. When she was an immortal, none of her deals would matter. She'd march right back with her head held high, and Abram wouldn't be able to do anything about it. But for now, and for the sake of her crew, she had to take the humiliation. Abram started to leave, then stopped, turning back to Scarlett and shaking his head.

"Well, I don't leave empty handed. Where is my trophy?" Abram asked, stepping up behind Scarlett.

With one hand, he pulled a dagger and held it to Scarlett's throat, and with the other, removed the pins holding up her hair and let the golden curls tumble down her back, al the way down to her waist. Scarlett gasped softly when he grabbed her hair in his fist, then felt several seconds of hard tugging. Suddenly, her head felt lighter, and her entire crew froze in utter shock. When Abram moved in front of her, he was still holding her hair. Scarlett's hands flew up to her head to find that her hair now only came a couple inches past her shoulders, cut unevenly with a knife. Abram relished the look of distress on Scarlett's face, and the humiliation he'd just put her through.

"Have a nice rest of your day, Scarlett," he chuckled, turning to return to his ship.

His men followed, though Nathaniel stayed back, kneeling in front of his tied up son, who glared back at him with fire in his eyes.

"One last chance to come with me," he told Percy.

"Not a chance," Percy growled. "I'll see you in hell."

Nathaniel stood and left, but not before giving Percy a good punch in the face and nasty nosebleed first.

"Ungrateful brat. Just like his mother."

The ship untied itself from the Silver Spirit and started in a different direction, though Scarlett knew better than to believe it was the last time she'd ever see Abram. He'd left so quietly, there was no way he was finished. She stood there frozen with her hand in her hair as Ben came out of hiding and started cutting the crew loose. Emily ran over to Scarlett, who didn't move.

"It doesn't look bad!" the girl reassured her. "You can't barely tell with your curls, anyways!"

"You're sweet...," Scarlett muttered, staring straight ahead in a daze.

Percy came by to usher the girl away, knowing that this was a moment Scarlett needed space for. It didn't take long for Emily to suddenly turn her attention to Percy's nosebleed, trying to help despite his protests. Scarlett started to shuffle back to her quarters, but she was stopped again when Ben grabbed her by the elbow.

"I should've-"

"Stayed hidden, like you did," Scarlett finished for him. "Trying to be a hero would have been worse. Abram makes me look like a saint."

"If you would just let me-"

"I don't need you to rub salt in my wounds, Griffith," Scarlett argued, interrupting him again.

"That's not what I was trying to say," he argued. "He knew what you were going to do, because he knows you. If we go by my direction, he'd be caught off guard. Just listen to me!"

"Stop it!" Scarlett snapped. "I got what I deserved, alright? Isn't that what you wanted to hear? You should be happy and leave me alone."

Ben pursed his lips, knowing it was no use to try and reason with Scarlett. She was drunk, and her beautiful hair had just been chopped off with a knife. She wasn't in the best place. Part of her thought about what Ben had said. He was right. She was far too predictable. She was also, however, far too stubborn. And now was not the time to think about it.