Black Waters (Reader!Assassin x Pirate!Aph England)

Chapter 11 - Curses Swell

Ciao fellow people! Hope everyone's good - I'm not dying from a heatwave- I'm having a problem with my computer, it's broken, so I'm having to write this on my phone/anything else convenient. Sorry if they're mistakes!  

The few days that took place on The Seahawk had passed slowly; with little time that seemed to pass within days, as if time passed slower in the open waters. It had been around three days when the ship had left the docks of sunny Havana, and the bad omens and warnings they traveled with seemed to follow them to Nassau. 

It seemed that through their travels, the crew had becoming more fearful at the fact that the end near to their journey wasn't turning out so well - with it, the skies had begun growing darker and clouds grew in the evenings, swirling to blackness of an ominous abyss and something fretful waiting for them - the worry of a possibly storm coming around was on everyone's minds. 

But not the Captain's: the Englishman didn't seem to care nor believe in any of the beliefs of what the crew spurted on about, and he was quick to dismiss it all, especially telling Alfred not to worry or overthink it. 

It was full knowing that there was no such thing as bad omens or warnings, the only thing they had to worry about was getting to Nassau within a good amount of time before it was too late.  

Y/N seemed to be the same in terms of believing and disagreeing - the fact that she knew that there was no such thing as such, only fate from the Gods seemed to show upon how fair a sailor's journey would be - and the Captain had to be careful in what he said. 

There was a God of Death around; in a physical and spiritual form too.  

Like any folk lore, Y/N had heard it all - from sirens lurking beneath the waves waiting for their next victims, to the souls of those who curse anyone who set foot along the small islands - their bodies would drown and they would have to live the rest of their lives in eternal watery hell. 

Some of the crew had even thought of her as some kind of witch; wanting to curse them and set them for misery and death.  

Luckily, instead of being tormented or set to be punished for magic, Captain Kirkland was quick to order his men not to speak of it ever again, or else there would be for sure a wrath not just from her, but from the infamous pirate himself.  

She was unsure whether to thank the man or not, but letting her differences aside, she was still seen as an infiltrator, a threat to some more than others, and she had to be wary of anyone and everyone. She was their enemy in their eyes, and she would have to keep a lookout on all of them - just in case she wasn't to get her back stabbed and betrayed.  

It would be pointless to get on their bad sides; Capitán Kirkland's crew are more vicious and rabid than a pack of dogs, when they believe in superstition, it will take them forever to forget it.  

Y/N had found herself spending more time outside than in the room assigned for herself; mainly time during the hot days training Alfred, whom progressively, was getting slightly better. He had some days that were good and worse than others, but with the hours being put in, it seemed like it was all paying off.

It was also a good excuse to enjoy the rays of sun on her S/C skin, to feel free rather than imprisoned in a room with barely any light. As much as she loved Havana - the only home she knew of - she did enjoy the feeling of escapism.

The days was coming slowly to a end, with most of the evening being spent with crew growing exceedingly drunk, some spending time on the deck drinking and arguing, spewing nonsense among each other like a pack of gulls. It was forever growing more annoying in Y/N's mind, for it seemed she would never get used to it.