#i'd love to develop his relationship with tommy more i think it's full of potential

[vincess-princess]

in darkness shall you be reborn

Chapter 6

Word count: 3019 Warnings: none (for once lmao) A\N: this will probably be my last update for the month because i have exams coming, sorry :( and, of course, i'm not the author of the shanty mentioned in the chapter

By dinner, a generous share of warm beer and several bitter puffs of a cigarette that Mick forced through his teeth brought Vince back onto the sinful earth. He obediently followed Mick’s orders and fussed around in the kitchen, though wrenching even a single word out of him was rotten work. Neither Mick nor Tommy who dropped by the galley to “check when the dinner is ready” got a clear picture of what had happened: a few listless hand waves, barely noticeable head shakes and one eye roll at an especially bad joke were all they could get. Nikki was just as unwilling to share the details, apart from several curse words, and by dinner drank himself into oblivion. Which was probably a mistake on his side, because the upcoming day was expected to be quite turbulent – they were finally going to arrive to Port Royal and dump the captives and most of the goods into the grabby hands of local barons. The crew looked forward to it, having spent weeks at sea, and loudly and happily talked about their plans, which primarily consisted of girls and ale, during the dinner. Listening to them made Vince’s heart ache – he too wanted to lose himself in the warm embrace of a girl and a bottle of wine flavored with spices. But he knew he most likely would not be let out without supervision, or would simply be confined to the galley. Still, an inkling of hope in him persisted.

The nights in the Atlantic Ocean were always warm, but as the ship went southwards they were becoming more hot and humid, so the crew spent most of their time on deck instead of hiding in the wardroom. Vince didn’t like the idea of spending the night outside – he always heard that night air could make one sick, what if he caught a cold? – but staying in the galley was not an option. Provident Mick did not risk to leave him there alone, not with so many knives around that he could see attracted Vince like a mouse to cheese in a trap. Mick could see almost everything with his icy-blue eyes that penetrated Vince’s soul to its very core. Vince only hoped he couldn’t read his thoughts – he wanted to keep at least some part of him to himself.

Mick played his guitar on the deck that evening, and all the sailors passing past him slowed down or stopped in their tracks outright to listen to the quiet, haunting melodies that gradually evolved into heavy beats of such power the strings rang and wailed as if on the verge of breaking. Most songs Vince couldn’t recognize – of course, Mick wasn’t playing anything he typically heard in operas and at concerts. But some sounded familiar; Vince might have heard his men singing them while working on deck while he was in his cabin supposedly dealing with business. In reality, though, he often abandoned boring papers to press his ear to the door and listen to hoarse, powerful voices sing unevenly but with refreshing sincerity. No opera or choir could ever imitate the rawness and liveliness of such simple tunes sung by such simple folk.

One of them was just flowing from under Mick’s bony fingers. It was mostly beats and clapping rather than actual melody, but the sound intertwined so naturally with the winds howling around and the waves crushing at the bow of the ship that any professional music would sound out of place – fake, even.

Mick saw Vince tap the rhythm with his foot on the floor and raised an eyebrow. “You know the tune?”

Vince half-nodded, half-shrugged. He heard his crew sing it, and sometimes sang it quietly to himself when alone in his cabin. He was a decent singer – or he wanted to believe he was – but he couldn’t join his crew in it for fear of losing their high regard for him. He was of noble blood, after all, and did not belong among simple folk.

“How come? This ain’t what they play in operas, or wherever your kind goes to have some fun,” Tommy chimed in, unasked.

“Heard my crew sing it,” Vince replied reluctantly. These were one of the only words he said over the evening.

“Did you like it?” Mick asked, glaring at Tommy.

Vince shrugged again. Any weakness he had, any secret aspirations he nursed the pirates would target before everything else, because it hurt the hardest. Better not reveal his soft spots to them at all.

“Well, not like he’s got much of a choice. Don’t have a choir here, princess.” Tommy plopped onto the same bench that Vince sat on. It was a bit too short for three people at once, but Tommy unceremoniously squeezed in anyways, swaying his hips to fit on the narrow plank. His hand immediately slid onto Vince’s knee. Vince slapped it away, only for it to return, this time feeling his thigh. He was too tired to argue, so he let it be.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” Mick concluded. “T-bone, you remember the ‘All For Me Grog’ lyrics?”

“Of course,” Tommy grinned. “What, are we throwing a party for the newcomer?”

“Jesus, Tommy, give the guy a break,” Mick rolled his eyes. “Now, why don’t you put your mouth to good use and sing for us? The night is terribly quiet.”

“Not a problem, boss. Hey, everyone!” Tommy called out to the crew. “What do ya think of a little song break?”

The pirates cheered, dropping whatever they were doing and surrounding Tommy, Mick and Vince. They still stared at Vince like he was an exotic animal, but at least they didn’t look hungry. Only one person, a long-haired ginger sailing master, remained unphased, gripping at the helm like his life depended on it.

“All For Me Grog, everyone!” Mick declared and began tapping out the rhythm on his guitar. Almost immediately, Tommy began to sing.

He had a good voice, Vince had to admit. A little bit hoarse from all the cigarettes smoked, perhaps, but it only added to its charm.

Where are me boots, me noggin', noggin' boots, They're all gone for beer and tobacco, he sang, and his voice rang all across the ship and farther, drowning in deep black waters of the Atlantic Ocean. For the heels they are worn out and the toes are kicked about And the soles are looking out for better weather,

Well it's all for me grog, me jolly jolly grog, It's all for me beer and tobacco-

The crew joined for the chorus, croaky, husky voices interweaving together into a low, steady rumble. As much as Vince didn’t want to admit it, the sound forced goosebumps to run down his back.

For I spent all me tin on the lassies drinking gin, they sang as Tommy winked at Vince and squeezed his knee harder. Far across the western ocean I must wander.

Where is me shirt, me noggin', noggin' shirt, It's all gone for beer and tobacco, For the collar is all worn, and the sleeves they are all torn, And the tail is looking out for better weather.

I'm sick in the head and I haven't been to bed, Since first I came ashore from me slumber, For I spent all me dough on the lassies don't you know, Far across the western ocean I must wander.

As the singing faded, an unnatural silence broken only by the sound of waves descended onto the ship. The pirates stood still for a few moments, looking yet not seeing one another, their thoughts far away. At home with a wife waiting for them, or in a pub drinking with buddies, or in bed with hot fingers of a hooker all over their bodies… what else did people like them, always on the move, always hiding from the law, long for?

Well, at least Vince knew damn well what he wanted – to get away from this goddamn ship. And the inkling of hope inside him that he had no heart to suppress whispered to him that he could only hope to pull it off tomorrow. He needed to be alert and prepared – to seize the opportunity when it comes. Not if. When.

“Great, everyone, now back to work!” Tommy clapped his hands, and the silence was broken by shuffling of boots on the deck and indecipherable murmuring. “You too!” he poked Vince in the chest. “The dishes ain’t gonna wash themselves. Come on, come on, I’ll help you carry them.” With that, he pushed a tray in Vince’s hands and began piling up plates on it. Vince narrowed his eyes at him, trying to catch his gaze, but the first mate was terribly occupied with fitting as many plates onto the tray as possible. Since when Tommy was so eager to help him do the dirty work?

Of course, it wasn’t just out of kindness of Tommy’s heart. When they entered the galley, he slammed the door shut and turned to Vince. His angry frown made Vince clutch the tray tighter, as if it could help him should Tommy want to hurt him, although Vince couldn’t recall anything he did lately that would make the first mate dissatisfied with him.

“What the hell did you do to Nikki?” Tommy demanded.

“What are you talking about?” Vince forced himself to let go of the tray and upended it above the tub, accidentally splashing the muddy water on his pants. “Oh, fiddlesticks!”

Tommy snorted and his frown evened out slightly. “Jesus, if anyone else hears you say that you are gonna get your ass beaten. Just say ‘damn’ like everyone else.”

“I’ll have my fiddlesticks, thanks.” Vince grabbed a towel from the counter and tried to sop up the water on his clothes, silently hoping that Tommy would drop the topic and leave him alone. To no avail, unfortunately.

“Asking nicely for the last time,” Tommy stepped forward, towering over Vince in his high-heeled boots. How did he even walk in those on the always-swaying deck? “What happened?”

“Why do you care?” Vince snapped back. “Are you policing his sex life or something? Pervert.”

“I couldn’t care less about where he sticks his dick as long as his nose doesn’t fall off. But I do care about our business, and he’s lying there out cold surrounded by empty bottles. I talked to him in the morning – everything was normal. You leave his cabin, and he drinks himself into oblivion and refuses to show up on deck or even open the door. What the hell happened?” Tommy reached forward and squeezed Vince’s shoulder, not letting him back off.

Upon learning that Nikki hadn’t told anyone about Vince’s breakdown relief washed over him. Knew Tommy about it, the entire crew would have already been snickering and whispering around Vince, and for a reason. Going into a fit of panic when told to undress, like some hysterical nun who’d never seen a dick in her life, wasn’t quite what Vince wanted to be known for. Sure, everybody already knew he was Nikki’s toy, but he could at least carry that unflattering status with as much pride as it was possible to have in this situation.

“What do you think?” he said through gritted teeth. “Do you think he wanted to play poker with me or something?”

“Sure he didn’t. But I know him, and this ain’t how he behaves after sex, so I can only assume he hasn’t had any. Which is weird, because he always gets what he wants, even from bitches like you. What did you do to him?”

“Ask rather what he did to me.” Vince turned away demonstratively and reached for a sponge. “Maybe it’s his conscience finally waking up.”

“Hah, nothing of this kind in that asshole,” Tommy brushed him off with a chuckle. “Listen, I’m not gonna leave you alone until you tell me.”

“Then you’ll be spending a night here,” Vince didn’t retreat, plunging the sponge into muddy water, pursing his lips in disgust when his hand touched some food remains. “Maybe he’s upset I drank that premium whisky of his.”

“He gave you his premium whisky? You lucky son of a bitch!” Tommy almost jumped, his eyes lighting up. “Can’t imagine how well you sucked him off to get that. So all it takes is just offering you some booze? I have some vodka stashed somewhere-”

A plate almost crashed against his head – he managed to duck at the last second, and it broke against the wall instead. Vince didn’t have enough time to fling another plate – Tommy tackled him to the floor instead.

“Let me go,” Vince hissed, wriggling underneath him.

“I will, if you ain’t gonna throw more plates at me”.

“I will, if you cut that talk.”

“Well, we’ll stay like this then.” Tommy shrugged. “So that was all a show the first time? Are you more pliable one-by-one, or was that the booze?”

“Neither. I’ve drunk beverages a hundred times better than that whisky. And no, that wasn’t a show.”

“Hard to believe, princess.” Tommy pinched his cheek. “But you’ve got a grain of truth somewhere, I admit. Nikki wouldn’t react like that to a good blowjob.” He finally rolled off Vince and plopped down onto his sleeping place, his legs alone half of the room’s length, and patted the place next to him on the blanket. After a little hesitation Vince moved there too, solely because the floor was too cold.

“So, now that we’re comfortable and cozy, will you fuckin’ tell me what happened?” Tommy pressed on. Vince tried not to touch his body, but he could feel heat radiating from it even at a distance. “With as many details as possible. I won’t jerk off on it, I promise. At least in your presence.”

“Nothing much,” Vince shook his head again. “Nothing to jerk off to - we didn’t even have sex.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” Tommy looked disappointed. “I hoped for a juicy story. How come Nikki didn’t fuck you again? I know he wanted to – he’s been talking about you all night not letting me sleep in peace - and I doubt you are eloquent enough to talk him out of that.”

“I might be,” Vince got offended. Did Tommy think he had been taking all his rhetoric classes for nothing? “But words wouldn’t help there. They didn’t help me yesterday, after all.”

Tommy ignored Vince’s full-of-disdain look.

“How’d you squeeze the whisky out of him then? You don’t look like the type – and even if you did, I doubt you could get it with force. Nikki’s just as good at hand-to-hand combat as with a sword.”

Tommy didn’t lie, still looking fully determined to wring the answer out of him, and Vince gave up, not ready to listen to his nagging for the rest of the night. But even remembering what happened from a safe distance of the galley still made a lump form in his throat and his heart beat faster. He was so tired of all this. Even the pride he was clutching at like a drowning man to a raft seemed less important than just being left alone. Besides, everyone on the ship already knew he was Nikki’s bitch, so what difference would it make to have that happen twice?

“He started undressing me, and I kind of… began to suffocate. I don’t know what happened – everything was blurry and I couldn’t breathe. And then he pours this whisky into my mouth and sends me away. That’s all.”

Tommy stayed silent for a minute or two, which in his case was more frightening than when he talked all the time.

“Just don’t tell anyone,” Vince added hastily. “I mean, not that there’s much of a reputation to ruin for me, but still.”

“I won’t,” Tommy said after a few seconds of pondering over it, “but not because of you. Because of him. They might consider it a weakness.”

In other circumstances Vince wouldn’t believe him, but now it was different. Tommy spoke without a usual hint of mockery in his voice and looked more serious than Vince had ever seen him over the short period on the Shout. So he was inclined to believe him – or at least hope that he wouldn’t spill the beans intentionally.

“Still, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, princess. By the way, I just now realized I don’t even know your name. I know you’re a Wharton because we found papers in the captain’s cabin, but not much more than that.”

“Vincent Neil,” Vince said after a short pause. Maybe now he would start calling him by his name instead of giving him womanly nicknames? “I don’t suppose anyone here will call me that, so just Vince will do.”

“Alright, princess Vinnie,” Tommy grinned (no, this was a hopeless case) and then, unexpectedly, stretched his hand forward. “Nice to meet you.”

Vince stared at it like it was an exotic and extremely venomous snake somebody just suggested he pet. But seconds passed and Tommy’s hand didn’t waver, and Vince decided he didn’t want to decline this extremely rare demonstration of respect he was so unexpectedly offered.

“Can’t say it’s mutual, sorry.” He shook Tommy’s hand.

Tommy burst into laughter. “That was harsh! Didn’t you have your etig- etiqa- good behavior lessons in your childhood?”

“Etiquette, you mean? It’s useless outside social events. No one cares which fork you use for fish and which for salad here.”

“Wait, you use different forks for different dishes? Man, that’s crazy. How’d you remember all that? And what a pain in the ass it must be to wash all of them!”

“I never remembered anything even after all my lessons,” Vince smiled faintly. “Always thought it to be stupid, honestly.”

“Well, at least here we’re on the same page,” Tommy nodded and got up. “Now, you have work to do, and who am I to interrupt you?”

“Bastard,” Vince murmured to his back. Tommy jerked his shoulder, but chose to ignore the insult and hurried out of the galley.