3 An Impossible Dream
An Impossible Dream
HAWK WASN’T SURE whether he felt relieved or embarrassed to find the self-styled Queen of Port Royal standing over him, hands on her hips, strands of black hair that had escaped her upswept hairdo flowing in the morning breeze.
One Elizabeth Barnes. A former madame who’d worked her way up through the ranks of Port Royal by trading secrets between the men she slept with, pitting pirates against each other and granting power to the ones she chose.
Now she owned the favor of the most powerful pirate captains and half the public properties.
Hawk had expected he’d have to pay dearly for her favor and had been surprised when she’d taken a liking to him almost immediately.
She’d been the one to submit him for captaincy of the Orca.
She claimed it was due to his sailing experience, but he thought that they’d recognized something in each other.
A common desperation to overcome the constraints that the world had placed on them, perhaps.
That, or she just valued the fact that he’d never try to get into her petticoats.
Whichever it was, Elizabeth became one of the few people he could truly unburden himself with. The only one who knew his real name. It was, in fact, a relief that she’d been the one to find him.
“How does a man lose his entire ship and crew, Captain?”
He was still wet and probably delirious. What the hell did he drink last night? Had his rum been spiked by some bruja’s secret brew? Everything was illuminated with crystalline clarity: the water, his path, his end. But then - here he was. Decidedly not dead. And aside from that...
God, what dreams he’d had.
Hawk wet his lips before he could stop himself, memories of the dream blooming vivid.
An angel of a man, strong and beautiful, lifting him from the water.
Gazing at him with eyes full of moonlight, murmuring something unbearably sweet.
In the dream, the man had kissed him; tentative at first then with unmistakable yearning.
His body, arching close to Hawk's, had felt incredible, awakening the kind of desire Hawk hadn't felt for a long time.
All Hawk had been able to think about was that mouth on his, pulling the man close, tasting him, kissing him until he couldn't breathe for want.
Taking and taking of those lips, that body, never letting go!
Fantastical, phantasmagoric.
Jesus, it had been far too long since he'd gotten laid.
No, no, it was a dream. The water, the rescue, the kisses.
All of it. He'd been very drunk the night before.
The pounding inside his skull was more than proof of that.
He must have fallen asleep and stumbled out onto the docks.
He must have missed the disembarking of the Orca. It was the only possible explanation.
“Miss Barnes,” he muttered, his mouth salty and dry, as if he had attempted to drink the ocean. He tried to pick himself up, crawling in a very undignified fashion onto all fours, only to immediately begin retching into the water from the dock.
“Dear God, Hawk. We can’t let anyone see you in this state.” Elizabeth’s hands around his shoulders, pressed against his clammy forehead. This was unbearable. He did not deserve her pity. “Let’s get you inside, Captain.”
Her body shielded him. From what, he was not sure. Why wasn’t he dead? And now, he was barely able to walk straight and being rescued by Elizabeth Barnes. Unbearable.
“Where is Ruiz?” he finally managed. His quartermaster, at least, wouldn't have left him. Right?
“Aboard your ship, I would imagine.”
She had ushered him past the brothel and into the back door of her tavern. One of the whores was leaning against the balustrade. Hawk had recognized her – the girl who had once been Elizabeth’s favorite. Moira or Myra? Mara. Whores talked. Now everyone would know.
“I need to...” The truth was, he had no idea what he needed.
“Sleep it off, Hawk.” Elizabeth’s voice had been soft and kind.
“What will they say?” he uttered, eyes widening in horror.
“Fuck them.”
For the time being, this seemed like the most reasonable of plans.
The question of whether or not the beautiful man with the moonlight eyes would return to his dreams had nothing to do with his decision.
Despite all of her advice and admonitions, Mara wasn't entirely surprised to see her brother striding up the streets of Port Royal, the early morning sun bright on his drenched hair and clothing.
He gave her a wide grin as he caught her eye, motioning towards his trouser-clad legs.
He'd taken to them far more quickly than she, she couldn't help but notice with a frown. Idiot.
"This thing between my legs is terrible," he leaned in to whisper as he reached her.
“Well, the thing between your ears is shit, too!” she snapped with a sweeping eye-roll.
“Now, Maraxilla! Is this any way to greet your brother, who has given up so much to be reunited with you?” He twirled. “Is it awful? Be honest!”
The long, flowing locks that had for so long been Silverfin's pride and joy were cut short to his jaw, and just beginning to curl and frizz in the heat of the sun as they dried.
A good thing; he never could have passed as human with such a head of hair.
"Is that what she asked of you, then? Your vanity? You clearly haven't given that up."
"I'm hurt. I'm a mere shade of my former, glorious self." Silverfin pouted as he touched his hair, frowning at the curly texture.
“You look like a poodle,” she taunted. “A sea poodle!”
“What is a poodle, pray tell?”
“It’s a little dog that highfalutin ladies carry in their laps and run their fingers through their curls. The dog’s curls, that is. It is a very curly dog.”
“And what is a dog?” Silverfin wrinkled his nose. It didn’t sound very dignified.
“It is like a land dolphin.”
“Oh,” Silverfin pondered this. “I’m fine with being compared to a land dolphin.”
“Shit for brains,” Mara muttered and waved him to follow her indoors.
Smugly, she noted that taking stairs required more balance than her ridiculous MerSir sibling was possessed of, clutching at the banister for support. Although perhaps it would have been easier had he not been gawking at everything like a literal fish out of water.
“Close your mouth, you’ll catch a fly,” she tapped his chin with her finger.
“What exactly do you do here?” Silverfin asked, as he followed her into her room, examining Mara’s spartan possessions with a look of rabid enthusiasm.
“Oh, mon dieu,” Mara sighed and allowed her body to sink into the armchair.
The entire room reeked of human coital fluids, not that her brother would know the smell of it.
At least he, when he inevitably failed his ridiculous quest for love, would have far more options for gainful employment among the bipeds than she.
Not that Mara’s decision to stay at the brothel had been fully one of necessity.
She’d thought perhaps that walking Elizabeth’s path – a whore gaining power by manipulating the men around her – she might finally gain Elizabeth’s respect.
That Mara might become worthy of her notice, again.
Mara knew she was a fool. But where else was she to go in this world that had never been her own?
Bitterly, Mara pushed thoughts of Elizabeth aside.
“I get fucked for coin,” she explained with the patience of a saint. “What do you think Mami Wata gave you your third leg for?”
“To empty my bladder, I assume,” Silverfin shrugged. “I can’t very well go around excreting through my gills whilst among land-dwellers, can I?”
For a long moment Mara stared at her brother. As much as she thought she ought to set him straight, if he'd managed to avoid all knowledge of the birds and the bees up until this point she wasn't particularly keen on being the one that had to rectify that. "You'll understand soon enough."
"Right." Silverfin rubbed his hands together. "Where do I find him, then?"
"What?"
"My beautiful golden pirate. I'm here, he's here. What else is there to it?"
"You really think you can just go waltzing into his bed, don't you? Even if you were, by some miraculous feat, able to get there, you wouldn't have a clue what to do with yourself."
"Well, I don't see why not. I still have enough of my hair to be attractive."
Mara's lips pursed in annoyance as she stepped closer to him. "Listen, little brother. I told you to stay away from here for a reason. Men don't do that here. Not openly, not with other men. If you go throwing yourself at him, you're just going to get yourself a black eye - or worse."
"Well, that seems silly." Silverfin perched on the edge of the bed. Mara decided not to tell him what exactly he was sitting on. "Why in the sea would that matter?"
"There are some things that even I don't understand. But in any case, if you wish to earn his affections you must do it in a way that is subtle. You must first become close to him in some other way. And this I cannot help you with."
Silverfin nodded as she spoke, in a way that meant his mind was already miles ahead, galloping along towards his goals with reckless abandon. "Help me find him, then. I'll take it from there. I've got it all figured out, you see."
"Do you?"
"Of course." He leaned forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "And when I get what I want I'll bring you back so much coin that you won't need to - whatever this is - for it."
"Far be it for me to get in your way. Come on. We'll see if he's awake yet."
Silverfin stood, then stopped. "Mara. What's a Lucas?"
"Who?"
"A who, then. Man or a Woman?"
"Man. I don't recommend you ask these kinds of questions in front of the land-dwellers."
"Right," Silverfin replied, and perhaps it was Mara's imagination, but he seemed to look even more smug than he had before as he followed her out of the room.
Hawk opened his eyes to a world of hurt.
Cockbiting hell. How long had he been out?