Fool's Gold [Squall/Reader]

[Chapter 2]

Bloody pirates.

All they were good for was bringing destruction and mayhem. They lived only for themselves with barely a regard for how precious a life was. A chaotic life ruled by anarchy and ancient laws.

One that suited you quite well, even if the law branded you a scourge of the sea. An understandable judgement as the bodies of the sailors laid freshly slain around you. The metallic twang mixed with the salty air. You kept your eyes forward.

You wished the captain had listened to reason and not his pride. Now, his surviving men stood overwhelmed at the sight of their defeat. Afterthoughts as gunpowder, weapons, and food priorities took priority.

It was an unavoidable consequence but, regrettable.

Life should be treasured, for its short duration could be cut short by anyone's whim. Be it by another's sword, an unforeseen illness, or even the gods themselves. Rather than wait for your eventual end, you had grasped life by the handful and set sail. To live life and not be held trapped by the mundane life on land.

You were a pirate after all and your freedom was your treasure.

But, at the moment, all you craved was freedom from these hastily tied ropes.

Your eyes went to your bag in someone else's hands. They were quick to handle it with care when they heard maps were inside. They stopped their manhandling when you confessed to being a navigator's daughter.

While the lies piled on, all your mind howled about was keeping the presence of the package unknown and getting the seven hells off this damned ship.

Who knew what mischief the Crimson Devil would push for if he found out who the sender was? Or how the Luna Diviner would try to squeeze every bit of Gil out of it?

Your escorts weaved their way through the crowds. At least, your bound hands were one less worry. It wasn't the right moment to try your hand at an escape. The decks were busy with activity.

Whispers reached your ears and you recognized a few faces. They recognized you since some paled. Spite pushed you to smile but, the sniveling mess of the noblemen clinging to your back deterred the effect.

The son of a water-bogged gun had screamed 'Parley!' without even knowing its meaning. He had attached himself to you since seeing the disaster on deck. Sighing away a headache, you skillfully balanced on the plank. You were only a bit unsteady from the overbearing weight pulling your dress.

"Where's the Cap? These two shouted parley!" the escort shouted as you set foot on the familiar ship. You never thought you'd return willingly.

You were right.

"In his cabin!" a voice shouted from above on the booms.

A path cleared for you both as the crew began to buzz with talk. Too many whispers of your name for you to try to hide your identity. Your reputation did proceed you.

"Isn't that the Star Skimmer?"

"No, that's- Holy hells! The lass survived!"

"Of course, she would it's the Star Skimmer."

"No, not- She's known as [Name] on this ship and to the captain and just that, young'un."

That blasted captain was the last person you wanted to see. You walked this earth and sailed this sea making sure to avoid any mention of the man. A numbness began to strangle your heart at the sight of the finely-crafted cabin door. Memories you longed buried resurfaced.

Your escorts knocked but, instead of red, you were met with a pleasant silver. A man with aquamarine eyes too honest for this kind of life.

"[Name]?" he questioned, unsure if you were the ghost of a legend that he couldn't bring himself to believe in or, actually there in the flesh.