“Wake up!” Splash.
Kavo woke with a start and sputtered. He reached to wipe the icy water— at least, he hoped it was water— off of his face, but he found that he couldn’t lift his hands: he was bound.
“Wh-where…?” he croaked. Any attempt at playing the part of a threat flew out the window; he could hardly speak.
“I dun think yer in much’o’ a position ta be makin’ threats, are ye?” Kavo clenched his eyes shut, trying to place the accent. He must have been from somewhere in Gaea, but that accent was… north-western? If he was the “captain,” that meant the ship was likely to haunt Celia (between northern Gaea and Terra), Sol (off the western coast of the Islands of Zion), or Ava (at the southern edge of Gaea). It was difficult to say which until he knew where the majority of the rest of the crew was from, but Kavo was betting on Celia; he had heard raids there were increasing in both frequency and intensity recently, and this particular band of pirates seemed to be rather new and haphazardly thrown together, even if it consisted of a decent hand-to-hand combatant as a captain and a particularly skilled archer among the other men.
Another splash of water doused Kavo’s face. He glared through dark, wet lashes up at the man who he had pegged as the pirates’ captain. That man chuckled at him and knelt down to be face-to-face.
“Yer cute, kid, an’ damn stupid.” His dusty hand touched Kavo’s cheek. Kavo, perhaps predictably, did not react favourably; he snarled and tried to retaliate with a bite, but the captain snatched his hand out of the way. “Tha’s not ver’ nice, now is‘t?”
“Ryk,” a deep voice interrupted, “Do not antagonize the prisoner.” The speech was perfect and eloquent, his diction flawless. Kavo had rarely heard anything like it, but he recognized it immediately: the formal pattern of the Islands of Zion, just east of Sol. Kavo quickly looked up to see the face of the voice— and his heart thudded threateningly in his chest. It was the very man responsible for his fall.
Up close, Kavo’s initial image changed very little: hair like the night sky was tied back at the base of his neck and cascaded down his broad back. It contrasted little against his dark, red-tinted skin, unlike the golden eyes that glinted in his face. The man was massive; he was tall, and his thick muscles moved and shifted beneath his heavy, full clothing as he walked with long, brisk strides. Kavo glared and bit back another growl at the sight of the man; if it weren’t for him, all the pirates would be dead, as it should be.
The captain— Ryk— noticed the sparks of pure, unadulterated hatred Kavo was shooting at the other man, and laughed. “Tha’s no way ta treatcher knight, is‘t?”
“He’s no knight,” Kavo growled. The coughs that then ensued did little to help his (wishfully) threatening demeanour. “He’s a fuckin’ vulture.”
“A Hawk,” Ryk was quick to correct.
“There is no need to confuse him. It is not his fault he is here.”
Ryk, apparently taking a demented delight in this mess, continued, “And why is he here?”
“I shot him, as you well know. Now if you do not move, I will be forced to give you the same treatment.”
“Always so cold,” Ryk teased. Nonetheless, he stood and brushed past with a whispered remark that Kavo barely caught. “Not so cold last nigh’, were ye?”
Grimacing, Kavo shuddered at the images that he did not want to see but which invaded his mind anyway. The man who remained looked displeased as well, but not for the same reasons. Probably because their affair had been mentioned in the open like that. Disgusting, those two together.
“The crewmen call me Hawk,” the man explained as he knelt down in front of Kavo. A distracting glimmer of silver stole Kavo’s attention. Next to Hawk’s right hip was a mechanical hand, supporting some of his weight on the dingy floor. Kavo couldn’t tear his eyes away from it as thoughts flew through his mind. How had Hawk aimed like that, so precisely and with such concise movements, when he didn’t even have a real right hand? It made absolutely no sense.
Hawk reached up to Kavo’s wounded shoulder, and Kavo reacted again with violence; he bared his teeth, growling, and tried to kick out. Hawk stared at him impassively, as if it were an expected and a quite commonplace response.
“I suggest you stop moving and let me stitch your wound. Unless you want to bleed out, of course. It would certainly make my life an awful lot easier.”
“Don’t come near me,” Kavo snarled in reply.
Hawk stood. “If that is your choice.” Without a single look back, he exited. Kavo remained at attention for a while, but after nearly half an hour had passed, it became apparent that no one was coming back to check on him.
“Shit,” Kavo murmured to himself. They really were going to let him sit there and bleed out. He thought that, at the very least, when he’d proved to be absolutely useless and unrelenting, they would toss him overboard or something; he hadn’t thought he would be left to suffer. Even torture had seemed feasible; nothing had not. What kind of pirates left a captive sitting in the brig to rot? Didn’t they enjoy watching them hurt, causing them even more pain? Kavo was sure those were the stories he’d heard, and they definitely had seemed to fit Ryk, the captain he’d briefly met earlier.
Hawk, however, was a frustrating enigma. He didn’t mince words and he didn’t waste time. While Kavo appreciated that, he didn’t appreciate being struck with an arrow or attacked in the first place, and he had never once in his life appreciated pirates. Hawk was an asshole who pillaged their skyports and took his angers out on the women and children neighbouring ground towns. Hawk was a murderer and a rapist, scum, unworthy of even being wiped off the bottom of Kavo’s boot.
It was with these thoughts plaguing his mind that Kavo passed out for the second time.
While he slept, dreams of comfort were what plagued him. Warm hands on his body; cool, wet cloths wiping at his overheated face and neck; someone murmuring words to assuage his pain. He drifted between sleep and consciousness until he could no longer tell what was a dream and what was real. Occasionally he would mutter something nonsensical, blabber like a lunatic, like he’d gone stark raving mad. Sometimes his eyes would flutter open and, unseeing, bore into the wall across from him. More often than not, he’d be unable to even think, and would simply lie there helplessly and pray for it all to be over.
And then one day it was.
Kavo was more lucid than normal when he woke from another fitful afternoon’s sleep; he was aware enough to know that the hand gently stroking a cloth across his face was real and not imagined. His eyes fluttered open and he struggled weakly against the ties that bound him to the wooden pole behind him.
Hawk, his human hand holding a wet rag, sat in plain sight. Hawk had stayed to watch over him, to take care of him.
“Why…?” Kavo questioned weakly. Why would a pirate bother to save a government-sanctioned exterminator? They couldn’t have believed Kavo would give them information to save his life; he hadn’t even been willing to ask to be saved. Still, he could not argue that Hawk was probably saving his life. For what purpose? Kavo couldn’t say, but he could tell from the irritation in Hawk’s eyes that there had to have been one.
“Why am I helping you?” Hawk clarified. Kavo attempted to nod. “Not all of us are mindless killers.” Kavo assumed he meant that some pirates could be good, but Kavo had to say that he disagreed; if they were good, they weren’t pirates. And if they weren’t pirates, Kavo’s airship wouldn’t have been attacked, and then they wouldn’t have been in this position in the first place. Hawk was a pirate. “You look at me like that— that doubtful stare— but it is true. Your government killed my people.”
Kavo’s stare hardened as much as it could, bleary as it was. “I… did nothing.”
Hawk’s formerly complacent gaze turned cold, and he stood abruptly. “I would like to see your proof.” He stalked off again without another word, but this time, Kavo didn’t sleep. He was awake now, clear-headed enough to actually think for a moment. Had Hawk been the only man coming to see him? If so, perhaps Kavo should have been less harsh; it wouldn’t do to alienate the only person who was making sure he lived rather than died. Then again, there were many times during the past however long it had been that Kavo had wished he were dead; he had wished that the pain would go away.
An infection must have set in, he realized belatedly. An attempt to crane his neck enough to see the wound— the wound which Hawk had inflicted, he reminded himself— was greatly unsuccessful. There was nothing he could do but sit in wait yet again.
It wasn’t until the next day that someone returned for him, but it wasn’t Hawk, as it had been all the times previously. Instead, Ryk appeared, and Kavo nearly groaned in irritation. Ryk was even worse than Hawk when it came down to it; at least Hawk didn’t give off that same creepy vibe. With Hawk, Kavo felt comfortable insulting and arguing with the other man. He was afraid of what Ryk might do if Kavo didn’t behave; the touches and looks Ryk gave both him and Hawk weren’t reassuring, either.
“Ye’ve pissed off yer ‘ealer, ‘ave ye?” His bright, narrow eyes glittered with humour in the darkness. “It ain’t easy to piss off Hawk, ye know. The men think ye need punished fer it.”
Baring his teeth, Kavo glared. “Do your worst.”
Ryk’s grin made Kavo shudder in true, unsuppressed fear. He was beginning to feel that perhaps he shouldn’t have been baiting the man. That feeling was proven when Ryk’s hand reached up and unbuttoned Kavo’s dirty, wet collar.
“I think I heard an invitation there,” he whispered. His hands continued to unbutton Kavo’s coat until it lay open against his sides and the thin white shirt he wore beneath it was exposed. It was easy to see the definition of Kavo’s disciplined muscles through it, and the sick bastard looked like he was enjoying it far too much. He pushed the coat off of Kavo’s shoulders, and the heavy, damp fabric bunched across his elbows and forearms; the way he was tied to the wooden pole prevented his clothing from being removed completely.
Kavo clenched his eyes shut as Ryk leaned forward. His rancid breath felt like acid against Kavo’s skin, but he could do nothing while he was bound— nothing except sit there and wait it out, that was. He hated Hawk more than ever for getting him captured, but of course, his hatred for Ryk was growing as well. He hated feeling helpless, and being taken advantage of was something he considered to be one of the worst shames.
Then it snapped into normality again, as if it had all been just a dream. Kavo was cold, and there was no one hovering over him, breathing vile on his neck. But that couldn’t have been.
When he opened his eyes to assess the situation, he was torn between shouting for joy and crying in misery. His sworn enemy, Hawk, held the front of Ryk’s shirt in his metal hand. He didn’t look happy.
Weren’t Hawk and Ryk sleeping together? Was Hawk upset about him sleeping around? Kavo couldn’t be sure of anything on this ship of misfits and lunatics (and rapist bastards).
“Do not touch my patient again,” Hawk’s low, deep voice threatened, “Or I will ensure that you become my next one.” Then he released Ryk and turned to face Kavo. Ryk made a quick exit while Hawk knelt down. “Did he hurt you?”
Kavo stared with a look of disbelief. “The bastard was going to rape me!”
Hawk nearly rolled his eyes. “That does not seem to answer my question. Physically, are you hurt?”
Kavo stared blankly for a moment. Hurt physically? He would be surprised if he could honestly answer that he wasn’t. He had grown so accustomed to the constant ache in his shoulder, the chafing of his wrists, and the stiffness of his neck, back and legs that he had begun to tune out the pain. But none of that was caused directly by Ryk’s unwelcome advances, so Kavo answered with, “He didn’t hurt me.”
Hawk nodded at the satisfactory answer. “I came,” he explained, reaching around Kavo, “To inspect your injury. Does it still hurt?”
“Let’s see… you hit me dead in the shoulder with an arrow, but no, I think I’m doing fine,” Kavo replied with bitter sarcasm. “What do you think?”
“Clearly it has done little for your personality.” Suddenly, Kavo felt the ropes binding his wrists slacken. He looked on Hawk with wide eyes. “I cannot undress you while you are tied to the pole, can I?”
“No, but… I haven’t moved since I got here.”
“You have been rather irritating. Why would we allow you more movement while you were trying to kick and bite?” Kavo had to admit that Hawk was right in that regard; he had been as difficult of a captive as possible. Even so, now that the blood was rushing back to his hands and fingers, he was extraordinarily grateful for even this small leeway.
Hawk pushed the uniform coat off of Kavo’s arms and to the floor, then pulled the thin white shirt off of him. For Kavo, being before someone so extraordinarily big was the slightest intimidating, although he himself was not small. However, while his muscles were toned and the proper size for his frame and he had never been called short, he was not built on the same big-boned, 6’4” frame that Hawk was; he was lean and wiry, hardly measuring up to 6’1”. Hawk didn’t seem to take much notice, though, which made Kavo more comfortable. While Kavo was fretting over being easy to overpower, Hawk was inspecting the injury, just as he’d said he would.
“You are likely safe to move,” he announced, “But you may not do any heavy lifting.”
Kavo snorted. “I’m not doing much moving at all sitting here tied to a post.”
Hawk levelled his golden gaze at him. “Captain Ryk will have you working by tomorrow.”
“Working? Doing what?” He was a prisoner of war. Who would want him working?
“You happened to kill quite a few of our crew. We are short on cooks.”
“You’re… short on cooks?” Kavo asked, raising an eyebrow.
“We have none. They were all killed during the battle. You will be taking on the job.” Before Kavo could protest, Hawk said, “Your other option is to sit here, tied to the post, and endure Ryk’s torture all day.”
Eyes narrowed, Kavo relented reluctantly. “I’ll do it.”
The corner of Hawk’s mouth turned up. “You are less stubborn than we have all suspected.” He stood and left.
Kavo sat there, slumped against the post for a moment. Then he realized: Hawk had left him free. A wave of giddiness washed over him. He would use this carelessness to his full advantage.
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