Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They stood on the dock on this bright azure blue Caribbean morning, Bog, Sonny and Pare.

Bog squinted his eyes in the harsh sunlight of the mid-morning, he was still nursing a hangover and the tongue lashing his mother had given him.

Sonny on the other hand seemed far too pleased to be up and about at this hour, perhaps it was the sight of the ship, Viridian still moored at the end of the dock. Had it been only yesterday they had commandeered it from Port de la Luz?

“Here they are Captain” Pare said drawing attention to the line of sailors he had amassed, “all of them faithful hands before the mast, every man worth his salt” he continued as they stopped short of a boy with long, white blonde hair who looked only to be about twelve.

Bog rubbed his forehead hoping to ease its constant throbbing; he needed to cut back on his rum consumption. And was this really the best Pare could do? It was barely more than a handful, “able-bodied crew” his arse.

Sonny seemed eager to voice his concerns. They were going to go sailing after The Dark Forest to rescue Dawn with so few men and a stolen ship, although Viridian was the fastest ship in the Caribbean.

In a frantic attempt to dispel Sonny’s lack of faith Bog made to address the blonde youth.

“You lad, wat’s yer name?” Bog asked in a gruff grumble.

The boy didn’t answer but instead replied with a giant toothy smile, clearly eager to please.

“Uhh,” Pare hesitated, “the lad is known as Imp sir, poor thing had his tongue cut out for telling lies.”

Both Bog and Sonny reacted accordingly, recoiling and making grimaces, both absolutely horrified by the idea.

“And what’s in it for us?” a gruff, if feminine sounding voice called from a little further down the line.

Bog cussed under his breath, as he moved forward, Sonny close on his heels, he should have known.

A fist came flying towards him and he was too slow, still groggy from the rum, he caught it with his chin. His head turned back with a vicious snap and made eye contact with Sonny behind him.

“I suppose you didn’t deserve that one either?” Sonny asked, tongue-in-cheek.

He was of course referring to the incident from the night before where Bog’s mother gave him a few good, well-deserved, slaps for not telling her he was leaving, or when he’d be back.

“No, that one I deserved” he grumbled, still rubbing at his stubble-lined jaw, a grown man should not have to answer to his mother.

He turned his head back cracking his long neck in the process, clearly a pleasurable act and straitening to his full height glared down at the bane of his existence.

“Marianne” he trilled, rolling her name on his accented tongue.

“You stole my boat” she accused, stabbing a finger at him, poking him in the ribs.

“Borrowed,” he corrected, “with every intention of bringing it back.”

“But you didn’t” she scowled. She had stolen the boat first, had used it to get to Bosque Isla from Port de la Luz.

Sonny was watching the pair banter back and forth when he realised something, the woman looked familiar, but, she couldn’t be, could she?

“Marianne?” Sonny asked nervously, still unsure.

The girl looked down for the first time at the short dark-skinned man standing next to Captain King and gasped in surprise.

“Sonny?” she asked back, what was Sonny doing on Bosque Isla, with a pirate no less? Still it felt nice to see a familiar face from back home. Sonny was someone she had known almost her whole life.

“Marianne!” Sonny cried out in joy, he hadn’t recognized her at first because her hair was so short now; it used to be much longer and her clothes! What was she wearing?

“Wait!” Captain Bog King said catching on to the note of recognition in their voices, “you two know each other?”

“How do you two know each other?” Marianne asked with confusion, wagging her finger back and forth between the two.

“Actually” Sonny piped up, “I’m more curious about how you two know each other.”

Marianne became bashful, heat rose to her cheeks and she glanced sideways somewhere off into the distance.

Likewise Bog went very stiff, his fingers began nervously tapping against one another, and he looked anywhere but at Marianne.

“All hands on deck!” he suddenly yelled out prompting the assembled crew to cheer and make way to the gang plank.

“We’ll continue this conversation on ship” Bog said turning to look back at Marianne and Sonny, “In mah cabin.”

As the two hurried off Pare stalled the Captain, “uhh, isn’t it bad luck to bring a woman aboard sir?” he asked.

Bog rolled his eyes, superstitious sailor, “Trust me, it’d be far worse not to bring her” Bog snarled back.

Chapter Text

Once the three were settled in the cabin of the Viridian Bog cleared his throat, “we’ll I’m waiting?”

Marianne and Sonny exchanged glances before Marianne spoke, “I first meet Sonny ten years ago when my sister, father and I were sent here to Port de la Luz upon the appointment of my father’s being named its Governor.”

She had kept this detail hidden from Bog and anyone else she’s met since coming to Bosque Isla.

“Oh no, not another princess” Bog moaned cradling his head in his hands.

“I am not a princess” Marianne cried in frustration, slamming her hands down on the desk.

Bog felt the vibrations of her slam run up his arms and into his already aching head. She was defiantly not a princess; she was barely acting like a lady.

“Wait, what do you mean another princess?” Marianne said, Bog’s words finally having registered.

“Well,” Sonny started than had to take a gulp of air, “That brings us to how we meet” he said moving his finger back and forth between himself and Bog. “Dawn’s sort of been kidnapped, by pirates and Mr. King-”

Here Bog glowered menacingly.

“That is Captain King has offered to help me get her back.” Sonny finished, avoiding looking at Marianne.

“Dawn’s been kidnapped!” Marianne leapt to her feet and began pacing up and down the length of the cabin.

“We have to do something. I have to do something. I’m the only one who can save her. This is all my fault, if I hadn’t of been so selfish and left…”

“Whoa” Sonny said jumping up and stopping Marianne in her pacing.

“First of all Marianne this is not your fault, there is nothing you could have done to stop it. The pirates” he hesitated, “they can’t be killed Marianne, I tried, they’re cursed. Ask him.” Sonny pointed at Bog who looked up from his wallowing long enough to shrug an affirmative.  

Bog went back to massaging his temples.  

“I sprung him the fort gaol” Sonny confessed.

“Oh? And why was the infamous Captain King in gaol?” Marianne asked turning to Bog with a smirk on her lips, her tone light and teasing.

“He saved Dawn from almost drowning” Sonny admitted and Marianne turned back to him clearly looking impressed.

“Then Roland, ah sorry, Commodore Greene showed up and ah-” Sonny struggled to continue.

“Commodore” Marianne shouted in loathing inquiry, cutting him off, “he’s been promoted again? That shallow, power-hungry, cheating, chattering, pig-headed, son of a-”

“Whoa there tough girl” Bog snarled from his seat, instantly quelling Marianne’s raging outburst.

“You mean to tell me” he said, rounding on Sonny, “that, that louse who locked me up was the same one who cheated on ye after he proposed?” Bog asked turning back to Marianne.

Bog was suddenly feeling very sober as a white-hot rage filled him up. If he had of known that then the Commodore would have suffered a bit more then he did.

Marianne turned a bright shade of red as Sonny gave an indignant cry.

“He what?” Sonny was outraged; the proposal had been a very public affair that had ended in disaster when Marianne had fainted.

Two days later Marianne had left the island without so much as a note and had not been seen since, that was three months ago. No one had known about the cheating.

Both men stood there in silence, both stunned and shocked. Bog couldn’t believe he’d actually outed her secret after she confided in him in her lowest moment. Sonny disliked Roland Greene as much as the next person, he was a pretentious ass at his best, but unfaithfulness was a hard thing to prove.

“What happened?” Sonny asked softly.

Marianne didn’t want to talk about it, not really but when she opened her mouth to say so the words just came pouring out.

“I went to find him, to accept the proposal and apologize for the fainting incident” a sad smirk twitched at the corner of her lips, “I found him alright” Marianne’s voice hardened with each word becoming a hiss between her gritted teeth, “tucked away in a back alley, he had some wench wrapped around him.”

She stifled her sob, she would not cry for him, not anymore. Marianne had shed her tears for Roland, drowned her pain in rum, Bog at her side all those lonely nights. She was better for it though, stronger now. Her time on Bosque Isla had been well spent learning the fine art that was sword fighting from a true master of the craft, Bog.

“So I cut my hair off, stole a boat, and set sail for Bosque Isla. Bog and I met when I came to his Mother’s Inn looking for a room.” Marianne looked over at Bog and they made brief eye contact, she would never get over how blue his eyes were.

He offered her a shy smile before looking away. He remembered that first night, well bits and pieces of it, they were both sloshed out of their minds and having forged some connection over their shared distrust of others had blindly fallen into bed together. Of course nothing too inappropriate had happened but he did remember the way her kisses tasted and Heaven help him if he couldn’t stop thinking about that.

A knock came at the door that had Bog’s head echoing the reverberations but called out, “enter.”

Pare opened the door and stepped in, looking timid for such a large man, “we’re ready to set sail sir” Pare said with a nod at Bog.

~~***~~

Marianne looked up to where Bog stood at the helm her admiration unmasked. For all he talked about being a Captain she had never seen it but now he was in his element, his long weather-worn leather jacket billowing in the salty winds, his hat with the ostrich feather secured to his pointy head. He had told her in secret how his first love would always be the sea but the one material thing he had ever cared about had been taken from him in a coup lead by his former first-mate.

Marianne remembered hearing tales of The Dark Forest and her unusual crew after first arriving in the Caribbean. It had sails of dark green and when fully deployed hung from the masts in a way that made it look as if a whole forest was floating on the water. She had seen it once, when she was eight, she remembered it well because it was the day they had first met Sonny. A six year old Dawn had instantly been taken with the small dark-skinned boy they had rescued from the water.

There was a tap on her arm, pulling Marianne back to the present. Sonny had his sword pointed at her in a very non-threatening manner.

“Well I can tell you’ve been practicing” Sonny complemented her, “but you’re easily distracted” he added nodding his head in Bog’s direction.

Marianne felt he cheeks flush and instantly went on the defence, “I have no idea to what you are referring” Marianne said bringing up her sword and taking a stance.

“You never looked at Master Greene like that” Sonny said, he had not missed the way Marianne looked at Bog nor was Bog’s returning glances lost on him.

Marianne flushed deeper but decided to return fire, “bold of you to say” Marianne said and this time it was Sonny’s turn to flush.

His admiration for Dawn had been a secret to no one except Dawn, and perhaps their father.

“That’s different” Sonny stumbled over the words, he liked this new, bold Marianne and could never see her settling for anything in her life again.

“Captain King’s heart belongs to the sea” Marianne said wistfully, “I could never take that from him.”

She knew what it was like; the waves that so gently caressed the white-sand beach had seemed to call her name every time she had looked out over the port city at the vast and waiting ocean. At long last she had answered that call following her heart for the first time in her life instead of her father’s wishes. Marianne had freedom and she would do everything she could to keep it.

Chapter Text

Dawn was too friendly to be scared or worried which is exactly the sort of thing that always got her into these types of situations.  How could such a hospitable bunch of people really be as cut-throat as she heard them described? First there was that odd pair, Stuff and Thang she thought they were called, who so graciously escorted her to the ship when she’d asked. Of course that was after they’d broken into the Governor’s residence, shot the footman, and stolen some things, but that didn’t make them bad people.

Then she got to meet the stern looking Captain Liz Scales, whom Dawn suspected was secretly a softy. The woman had been so nice to offer Dawn to take a little trip with them. Marianne would be so jealous she thought; I’m going to sail around the Caribbean on a real pirate ship! Now the same pair, a brute of a woman and a slight man, was kind enough to give her a tour. It ended when they reached the captain’s cabin. Inside was laid out a feast of endless dishes, turkey, fish, and pork, strange and rare fruits, and glass bottles filled with shimmering liquids.  

Captain Liz emerged from the shadows of the room, her dark kohl lined eyes shined even brighter in the flickering of the lamp light. The Captain had long sun bleached hair and rough tanned skin from working the ship under the hot Caribbean sun. She wore a long coat of what Dawn thought looked like alligator hide over a billowy cream coloured shirt and brown leather breeches tucked into a pair of well-worn boots. A fine green silk scarf was tied about her waist and she wore a leather buckled holster across her body to which was attached her scabbard for her sword.

The Captain advanced forward a step forcing Dawn to back pedal and bump into a chair.

“Please, take a seat Miss Alberich” the Captain cooed mockingly, flashing Dawn a smile that was all teeth. The Captain’s voice is light and high, Dawn places her accent as Irish.

Oh yes, Dawn had nearly forgotten, she’d given Sonny’s last name as hers hoping to protect her real identity. Apparently this had backfired.  

“You must be hungry” she adds, motioning to the decadent feast laid out before them. 

At the mention of the words Dawn is filled with a sudden ravenous hunger, she feels like she hasn’t eaten in days. She promptly takes the seat at the head of the table and grabs at a roll, she bites a chunk out of it before reaching for a turkey leg. The meat is greasy and slides down her throat in a sickening way.

“Try the wine” Captain Scales prompts, placing a full goblet within Dawn’s reach.

Enraptured by the food Dawn misses the look of fascination the Captain is giving her, as she greedily watches Dawn eat.

“And the apples, one o’ those next” Captain Scales holds out a green apple to Dawn.

The odd comment stops Dawn in her devouring. She uses one of the lovely silk napkins to wipe her mouth and fingers on. Where we’re her manners? Why had she eaten so savagely?  

“It’s poisoned” she whispers, glaring at the apple. Marianne used to tell her stories about a princess who ate a poisoned apple. But Dawn was sixteen now, she didn’t believe in fairy stories anymore.

The Captain throws her head backs and laughs manically.  

“You don’t know what this is, do ye?” she asks holding out the piece of gold that had gotten Dawn into this mess in the first place. The piece of gold she had taken from Sonny that fateful day they had found him.

Wide-eyed she shakes her head in the negative, to startled by the Captains laugh to speak.  

“It’s a piece o’ fae gold” Captain Liz informs her, “one of eight-hundred and eight-two pieces” 

“Consumed by greed, we took ‘em all. We Spent ‘em, traded ‘em, fretted ‘em away” She continues when Dawn fails to produce a response.  Her tone is light in remembered glory, but the Captain’s eyes suddenly go dark and Dawn feels the rising dread.

“The drink no longer satisfied, food turned to ash in our mouths, and all the pleasurable company in the world could not slake our lust.”  The Captain gets up from her chair and is pacing the room.

Dawn is trying to process what all this means. A sudden thought comes to Dawn, what would Marianne do?

Dawn eyes her unused knife and slips it into the folds of her dress. Marianne would fight her way out and that’s what Dawn intends to do.

“Don’t you think I’m a little old to believe in fairy stories, Captain?” Dawn asks, finding her voice at last.  

Dawn raises from her chair and steels her glare, she turns on the Captain brandishing her butter knife for all she’s worth. An amused glint enters Liz’s eye and the two women circle each other around the table before the Captain makes a lunge trapping Dawn against the wall. Without thinking Dawn turns and plunges the knife into her pursuers’ chest.

The Captain staggers back away from Dawn as though she has been mortally wounded and Dawn is in too much shock to flee. I’ve stabbed someone; I’ve never stabbed someone before.

Without flinching Captain Scales pulls the knife from her chest and watches as her blood drips down the blade. She flashes Dawn that same toothy, deadly, smile.

“I’m curious” she says, “after killin’ me whot is it you’re planin’ on doing next?” The Captain raises her eyebrows at Dawn.

A feeling of sudden dread rushes over and through Dawn, I stabbed someone and they didn’t die.

Dawn makes a break for the door and runs out onto the deck into the full moonlit night.  

She gasps and covers her mouth. The crew, all of them, are transformed! Where there once were clothes and flesh is now scales, hides, and amphibious skins. Under the moonlight many of the crew appear as though they would be slimy or rough to the touch. Dawn makes to turn around but her way is blocked by Captain Scales.

The Captain grabs her and Dawn is faced with the transformed crew members once more.

“My men and I are cursed” she hisses in Dawn’s ear, “we’re no' among the living and so we cannot die, but neither are we dead.”

Dawn can recognize some of the crew, even in their cursed state, Stuff and Thang, and the big Jamaican called Brutus. Someone walks past and to her he looks like a giant mushroom that has grown arms and legs.

The Captain spins her around again so that the two women are face to face.   

“For too long I've been parched o’ thirst and unable to quench it. Too long I've been starvin' to death and haven't died. I feel nothing, no’ the wind on my face no’ the spray of the sea, no’ the warmth of a man’s touch” As she speaks the Captain walks towards her and into the moonlight.

Dawn looks on in horror as Liz transforms before her eyes, her tanned flesh is replaced by the hide of an alligator, her fingers elongate into sharp black claws. Her eyes turn yellow and her pupils become a slit. She reaches out with the clawed hand and cups Dawn’s chin, she runs what would be her thumb across Dawn’s trembling lower lip.  

“You best start believing in fairy stories Miss Alberich, yer in one.”

For the first time since being taken by the pirates Dawn feels true terror. Eyes wide with fear she runs back to her assigned cabin and locks herself in. She won’t fall asleep until daylight.

Chapter Text

The storm rose up out of nowhere, monstrous waves that rolled the ship and blinding rain that pelted Bog in the face. A flash of lightning fills the sky and for a moment his look of manic glee is reveled to those still on deck. He ordered most of the crew below decks the moment the wind changed, bringing with it the hard rain. He checks the barring on his compass as the sky brings forth another bolt of light only to see the point has drastically changed position. The arrow now points to a spot directly behind him. He narrows his eyes and turns his head with a vicious snap.

Marianne is holding on to a lashing that has come undone to keep her from being swept overboard. She grabs hold of Sonny who’s lost his grip. Bog focusses on steering again when he sees Marianne has got him steady on his feet.

“Dawn would never forgive me if something happened to you” she chastises him, shouting to compete with the storm. 

Sonny responds with a weak smile which quickly drops to a frown again.

“How are we supposed to find an island that doesn’t exist with a compass that doesn’t work?” this is really something he should have thought about sooner, he was stupid to have placed his faith in a pirate. 

Marianne’s smile is sharp, “true, the compass doesn’t point north, but we’re not trying to find north now are we?” She smirks again with some secret knowledge that’s washed away when a rogue wave crashes over the side of the ship.

Bog grinds his teeth in frustration, emitting a low growl. The compass has never not worked before. It always points to the Dark Forest, no matter what port he is in, no matter how close or how far the object of his desire has been, since losing her it’s always pointed to the ship. He closes the casing and thinks really hard, I know what I want, I know what I want. He thinks of the tall strong masts, and full green sails deployed, and Marianne standing at the prow of the ship, the gentle sea breeze blowing through her hair and casting her coat out behind her.

Bog opens his eyes and roars in rage, why, why can’t he just focus on his ship. He jumps when Pare is suddenly beside him.

“We should drop canvas, sir” Pare says in his deep booming voice, struggling to be heard over the roar of the wind.

 “She can hold a bit longer” Bog replies to Pare, Viridian really was a great choice.

“What’s in your head Captain, that puts you in such a fine mood?” Pare asks as another flash of lightning illuminates the Captain’s sharp features. 

“We’re catching up” Bog grins, satisfied. 

“MARIANNE!” Sonny’s cry pierces the night and Bog swivels so fast he lets go of the helm.

Pare catches hold of the wheel and watches as his captain disappears into the storm. 

For one precious moment she can’t breathe. Sea water fills her mouth and she chokes on the brine. Marianne was dragged into the freezing water still holding onto the rope for dear life. The ocean relinquishes its grip, but only for a moment and then it’s swallowing her again. Her hands slide nearly to the end of her tether and the rope cuts into them. It doesn’t hurt as much as it should, hands that were once pale and soft have become tanned and calloused, still the salty water stings.

She’s spitting and coughing up the ocean, she hears Sonny calling her name, but it sounds far away. With the next wave Marianne was slammed into the very sold form Captain King with unexpected force, her nose, crushed against his chest. She instantly lets go of the rope she’d been holding onto and wraps her arms around him instead. He held onto her equally tight and together they made it to the sanctuary of his cabin.

“What the blazes were you thinkin’ Tough Girl” he snarls at her, but then he looks at her, really looks at her and his anger dissipates.

She’s drenched to the bone, her short hair is plastered to her face; she looks morose. He marches over to the liquor cabinet, fully stocked with fine glass tumblers and bottles of gold and amber liquids. He pours a glass of rum and thrusts it into Marianne’s numb fingers.

The burning liquid scorches a trail down her throat and warms her belly. It also induced a coughing fit. She is shivering and shaking and Bog knows she needs to get dry fast.

“You need to get out of those clothes” he says, crossing the cabin in three long strides.

It isn’t until he hears Marianne still in the chair behind him he realises what it is he’s said. 

“Otherwise you’ll catch your death. Here.” He is standing in front of her again his own wet clothes dripping endlessly onto the highly polished cabin floor. Bog drops a bundle of cloth into Marianne’s lap.   

They aren’t going to make it much further in this weather and Bog has a sudden need to make a detour. Marianne won’t be pleased. Nor will Sonny he thinks as an afterthought. 

Before she can protest, or accept Bog is back out in the storm, and Marianne is alone in his cabin. With shaking hands she pours herself another shot of the burning liquid, this time she doesn’t cough. The lanterns sway violently casting odd shadows on the wall.

Marianne hopes that wherever Dawn is they are not caught up in this storm. While Marianne has always gotten an odd thrill from the Caribbean storms Dawn has a great fear of the rumbling thunder and flashing light. Marianne divests herself quickly of her sodden clothes and slips into the rough wool chemise Bog so gracelessly handed her. She drapes her shirt, and breeches, over the chair-backs in hopes they’ll be dry come morning. 

Bog steals into his cabin sometime later, having secured the vessel. The storm is already abating and he is exhausted from the effort it took to keep the ship topside. Wearily he takes off his boots and coat; he hangs his hat and coat on a waiting stand. The cotton shirt he wears sticks to his skin as he peels it off and lets it fall to the floor with a sickening plop.    

Bog looks to his bed longingly but fails to make progress towards it when he notices the sheets are quivering, Marianne. Bog eyes the hard wooden chair that sits behind the gorgeous mahogany desk, resigned he makes his way to the chair.  Weary as he is, sleep still eludes him. Marianne continues to shiver in the bunk, the blankets unable to warm her. Distressed moans reach his ears and Bog forces himself to his feet. Wearing only new dry breeches he cautiously climbs into the tight space of the bunk. 

Bog draws the blankets in close around them, Marianne needs to get warm. It’s not until he huddles close, pressing his chest against her back, does she stop shivering and falls into a relaxed sleep.  

~~***~~

“I have a need to travel up river” Bog declares on deck the next morning.

The hot Caribbean sun is once again shining down on them from a cloudless blue sky. The only sign of the storm of the night before is minor damage to the ship.  

“By ‘need,’ do you mean a trifling need? Fleeting? As in, say, a passing fancy?” Marianne asked, stepping forward from the crowd. She looked decidedly unimpressed and her voice was a dangerous growl. She arches her eyebrow, skeptical.

Bog gave a guilty start. They’d had a rather awkward start to their morning.  He shakes the image of them waking up all tangled together in his bunk and hardens his resolve.

“No, a resolute and unyielding need” Bog scowls, he’ll not give into her charms.  

“My sister has been kidnapped by pirates and you want to go off on a tour of the swamps!” Marianne ignores the way the crew flinches at her use of the term ‘pirate’ it is after all what they are too.  

It really is only a minor detour. He just needs to see Tia Aura, get her to fix the compass, and then they’ll be on their way again. Off to a daring, dashing rescue of the governor’s daughter, and his ship.  

Sonny, Imp, Pare, Marianne, and Bog all crams into the dory boat and Pare rowed them into the darkness of the swamp. Marianne watched as the thick canopy overtakes the sun, and even though it’s just pass noon, suddenly it is as dark as night. A shiver rocks her body in the sudden coolness of the shade. Unseen birds and monkeys rustles the leaves overhead and bright eyes in dark faces peer out at the motley group. They are silent in their trek up river and Marianne wonders where they are going. What is so important? What could be more important than Dawn?  

“Here” says Bog he keeps his tone rough and short. 

Pare pulls up close to a floating dock and Sunny and Bog make quick work of the lines. 

Attached to the dock is a very humble home, even that is generous, Marianne thinks, it is more like a shack. Soft yellow candle light spills from the open windows and slits in the wood, it calls to Marianne, giving her visions of safety. She supposes even a rundown shack could be a home. After all she’d been living at the Primrose Inn for months now; it was more of a home than the Governor’s House on Port de la Luz had ever been.

The crew took their cues from Bog who stood awkwardly on the rocking dock outside the partially opened door.

“Come in, come in” a rich and mysterious voice called from within the hovel.

“What ‘ave we hear?” the voice was playful, teasing, “The infamous, Captain Bog King!”

Marianne rounded the corner and stepped over the threshold and into a world of fantasy and mystery. Every corner of the two-room home was crammed with oddities. Plants hung from the rafters drying, there were shelves of glass bottles all filled with seedy looking liquids, and empty bird cage hung in one corner, and all manner of trinkets were laid out on table tops. One large round table took up most of the central living space. Most of the table was obscured by a large an detailed world map, the rest of it was covered with jewelry, rings and pocket watches, keys and coins. Another corner of the room held musical instruments, a lute, a flute, and an accordion.  

It made Marianne’s head spin. Then of course was the woman herself. She had dark skin and her long black hair was fashioned into dreadlocks. She spoke with the deep rich accent of the native islanders. There was a light sprinkling of dark freckles across her nose that was not dissimilar to the ones that graced Sonny’s face.  

“Why is it you’ve come?” She demanded.

“I need your help” Bog admitted somewhat reluctantly, withdrawing the compass from his person and placing it on Tia Aura’s table.   

“Oh ho-ho” Tia Aura laughed, her chocolate eyes bright with mirth, “Bog King does not know what he wants.”

She makes a tsk-tsk noise.  

“Please! I have to find my sister” Marianne says, and only then does the woman seem to see the other people in the room.

She sweeps her gaze over Marianne approvingly, she takes in Pare, then the boy, Imp and finally she stops on Sonny.

“Sonny Alberich” Tia Aura speaks in her deep timber, “you ‘ave a touch of destiny about you.” Her lips curve into a predatory smile.

“Who me?” Sonny asks, confused, worried he’s done something wrong already.  

“I will help” Tia Aura agrees, and everyone gives a sigh of relief, “on one condition.”

“Anything” Marianne gasps. She doesn’t notice how Bog stiffens and eyes their hostess wearily.

“You let me come with you” the smirk she unleashes is devilish.

“NO” Bog roars in rage, he’ll not have that witch on his ship; he gives a side glance to Marianne whose eyes are large and pleading. How could he deny her this chance to save her sister? He made a promise to her, and a promise to Sonny. “‘Kay.” He finds himself saying, agreeing.  

Marianne gives him a bright heartfelt smile, so full of pure joy that it hits him hard. For the first time he can really see how Marianne is related the girl he saved from drowning. Bog has a pain in his chest and he hopes he’s not dying. 

“I just need to pack a few things” Tia Aura says as she begins loading stuff into a medium sized trunk.

Once they’re all back on the Viridian Bog pulls Aura aside. “What do I have to do?” he asks in earnest.

The witch gives him a wicked smile, “You don’t have to do anything” her smug smirk infuriates him but before he can let his temper loose, she explains, “It doesn’t just work for you, let the girl use the compass and she will lead you straight to your precious ship.”

Tia Aura nudges her chin in Marianne’s direction and the answer is so simple Bog can’t believe he didn’t think of it. Now he has Aura on his ship for no reason, the bloody trickster.

 “Oh, and Bog” she says, lowering her voice further, “if you thought I wouldn’t recognize my own nephew, you are more of a fool than I thought.”

There is a threat in there somewhere but Bog doesn’t have time to work it out. He has promises to keep and ship to find. 

“Faye!” Bog hollers across the deck, “would you be so kind as to accompany me at the helm!”

Chapter Text

The morning after the ransacking, and the kidnapping of Dawn Faye, Port de la Luz was a sorry sight. 

Sonny had awoken on the ground where he had fallen after being struck unconscious the night before. The vision of Dawn being dragged away by pirates was still fresh in his mind. His heart had thumped loudly in his ears as he made his way through the street, dodging debris, in an effort to find someone who could help him, anyone. 

He found Governor Faye and Commodore Greene in a heated discussion, pouring over maps of the known islands in these parts.

“Please, we have to find my little girl” the Governor was on the verge of tears.

“First Marianne, and now Dawn. What would their mother think?” He shook his head in woe.  

Commodore Greene quirked his thin lips in a smile of self-satisfaction. Ever since Marianne had caught him with another a woman and had run off, he had been looking for a way to get back into the Governor’s good graces.  

Not that the Governor knew it was his fault Marianne had run away, but he had dissuaded Dagda from pursuing her. Roland had told him that she would come back in her own time. He had not thought three months would have passed before that happened. Dawn’s kidnapping provided the slippery Commodore with the excuse he needed to be granted access to a ship and crew and go out to hunt her down.  

With any luck he might find both daughters alive and well, although he had assumed the worst for Marianne. She had probably resorted to selling herself, and while it irked him that he wouldn’t have the pleasure of taking her flower he consoled himself with the fact no one else would want her and she would be forced to take him back. 

“We will establish their most likely course and-” Roland was saying, when he was rudely interrupted.

“That’s not good enough!” Sonny said, barging into the private meeting, and driving his axe down into the table where it cleaved a map.  

Roland gave the axe a perturbed look as though it had personally wronged him.

“Sonny!” the Governor cried out, grabbing hold of the boy’s sleeve, “if you have any knowledge on the whereabouts of my daughter, I beg you, share them!”

Sonny was startled by the Governor’s disheveled appearance. Marianne’s disappearance had taken its toll on her father; he seemed to have aged twenty years in the last three months. His desperate plea further caught Sonny off guard; usually the Governor wanted nothing to do with him, unless it was to commission a sword. 

“I” Sonny stammered, “I might have been the last person to see her. I tried going after them, but they knocked me out.” Sonny finished lamely. He avoided the beseeching gaze of the Governor who seemed to have hung all his hopes of finding Dawn on Sonny’s small frame.

The Governor’s reaction also struck ill with Roland who felt his chance to impress the old man was slipping away. He would not be upstaged, especially by some elf!

“Listen here, Sammy” Roland sneered, yanking on the axe handle. “You are not a military man, you are not a sailor, you are a blacksmith.”  

He made Sonny’s job sound like it was the worst thing you could be. The lowest of the low, but that wasn’t quite right. Military and naval officers needed people like Sonny. Without blacksmiths they wouldn’t have weapons. Without him the Commodore wouldn’t have his fancy new promotional sword swinging from his belt. A sword he didn’t deserve.  

Commodore Green continued to struggle with removing the axe. Sonny stifled his rising urge to laugh.  

“That Bog King, he talked about the Dark Forest” one of the men standing by spouted.

“Mentioned it, more what he did” corrected the other man when the Commodore shot them a nasty look.

With their blonde hair and matching uniforms the men looked nearly identical. 

“Ask him!” Sonny piped up, pointing towards the gaol, “ask him where it is.”

“No” the Governor said firmly shaking his head, and at last relinquishing Sonny. “I’ll not consort with some pirate on my daughter’s location.” 

A day ago Sonny would have agreed with him, but where Dawn was concerned he’d do anything. I’d die for her, Sonny thought.

The only thing Roland Greene looked down on more than blacksmiths was pirates. If he had known how much of a thorn in his side that half drowned boy was going to cause him later in life, Roland might have left him to the sea.

“The Governor is right,” Greene announced, still struggling with the axe lodged firmly in his table. “The pirates who invaded this fort left King locked in his cage; ergo they are not his allies.”

Sonny bit down on a retort. If none of these men would help him, he would find someone who would. Sonny walked over and calmly pulled his axe from the map table and turned on his heel, leaving the Governor, the Commodore, and his two lackeys gawking in his wake.   

Sonny turned his feet towards the gaol; it was time for desperate measures.

~~***~~

“So, all I have to do is think of Dawn?” Marianne asked with mild awe.

She had known that it was not a normal compass. She had caught Bog many times sitting in his room at the Inn, or out on the wharf, opening and closing the compass, sighing wistfully at its message. She had assumed, like so many others, the compass led directly to the cursed island and its treasure. 

“Aye” Bog said, “it’ll lead you to yer heart’s desire; whatever ye want most in the world.”

 He was standing so close behind her Marianne felt his breath tickle the back of her neck. Their current proximity reminded Marianne of how they had woken up together. She rubbed her thumb across the case of the compass, a curiously intimate gesture. The interlocking bronze design reminded Marianne of Bog’s tattoos.

For the second time in her short life, Marianne had awoken to find herself face-to-face with Bog King’s bare chest. The first time it had been a truly awkward affair. Startled Marianne had tried to divest herself from the tangle of limbs and bedding only to get her foot caught in the sheets. Her struggle had roused Bog from his sleep and he’d been embarrassed and horrified to find Marianne still in bed with him. He later confessed he had thought her presence had been a dream brought on by the rum.

This morning though Marianne had waked with more care and took her time appraising the sleeping form beside her. Bog King was quite the specimen. Scars, both deep and shallow were carved into his chest, and down his arms. His tattoos were of jungle vines and deadly looking plant life. The crowning piece was a briar-knot of thorns, right over his heart. The black inky lines formed a labyrinth that begged to be touched.  

Marianne had always been a good girl, keeping her darker desires for adventure locked away in her heart. She had been thrilled when Roland Greene had begun to court her. He was a fine man. An upstanding member of the tight knit community of Port de la Luz and a Lieutenant in the King’s navy, Roland Greene was a man others envied. He was the type of man any young woman should dream of marrying, and Marianne had. The proposal had caught her off guard though. In hindsight she supposed it shouldn’t have. After seeing him for what he really was Marianne had wondered how she and everyone else could have been so fooled. 

That morning Marianne had given in to the impulse to trace her finger along the lines of Bog King’s chest. His lips had parted on a sigh and his brow had furrowed not in pain, but more like he was trying to remember the feeling of her touch. His hand which had been resting loose against her side tightened its grip on her hip as if he meant to pull her closer. He had mumbled something that sounded like her name and it had set her heart to beating at a frantic pace. She had tilted her head ever so slightly, aligning her lips to his, they looked so kissable.  

Marianne looked up and saw piercing slits of blue gazing back at her.

“Marianne” Bog said, and it was a rough and deep rumble. It was also a warning, like the clap of thunder that comes before a flash of lightning.  

“Marianne!” Bog said again, harsher, bringing her out of her daze.

“It’ll work better if you open it” he said through gritted teeth.

Marianne’s face felt warm but she did as he asked and carefully opened the compass case.

The needle stared spinning immediately, and Marianne thought strongly about Dawn. Her sun golden curls, and the first time she had held her as a baby, those beseeching blue eyes. A flash, Bog has blue eyes. The needle slowed in its final circuit, nearly stopped pointing towards herself, and then swung up to a baring of North North-West. 

“Gentlemen!” Bog shouted to alert the crew, “m’lady” he whispered much more intimately against her ear, “We have our heading!” Bog said, having chanced a glance at the compass over Marianne’s shoulder.

Marianne jumped having forgotten Bog was behind her. The ship was suddenly a bustling place with Bog shouting orders and his roguish crew obeying them. Marianne was left at the helm with her thoughts. What had Tia Aura said, back in her hut? “Bog King does not know what he wants.” And just now Bog had told her the compass pointed to the holder’s deepest desire. Bog had been standing behind her when the needle almost stopped. It meant something, but Marianne couldn’t work out what. What could be conflicting with Bog’s desire to find his ship?

Sonny’s hopes rose with the sails. No longer idle he did his part, hauling ropes with the rest of the crew.

“Hang on Dawn” he whisper to himself, “I’m coming for ya!”

~~***~~ 

Dawn felt like a sacrificial lamb being led to the gallows. Stuff had brought her a dark and heavy dress to wear so she need not run around in her light blue night dress. The color, a rich plum, was much too dark against her creamy pale skin which saw so little sunlight. It was more like something Marianne would wear, Dawn thought absently, stifling a sniffle. She would give anything to see her sister again.

Captain Scales had also returned the golden coin to Dawn’s possession. It hung on a chain around her neck where it brushed against her breasts with great impropriety.  

“Ready miss” Stuff asks, and Dawn nods yes, even though she isn’t.

She walks across the dock, flanked by Stuff and Thang. She shivers in the cool fog that surrounds the mysterious island where their hoard is kept. Dawn draws herself up to her full height, walking with her back straight and head held high. She refuses to believe this is the end. She is not marching to her death. Dawn had believed at first that they would not sail so far away from Port de la Luz. She had naively thought that after the dust had settled and dawn came Captain Scales would send a dory to shore with a few men to negotiate a price for Dawn’s return. But Dawn hadn’t told them she was the governor’s daughter; she had been foolish and gave Sonny’s last name as hers. Why had she done that?

Dawn Alberich, she liked the sound of that, it brought a smile to her lips. Then she remembered the sight of Sonny running after her, trying to save her. He was her best friend she would do anything for him. It was obvious the last name had meant something to the crew, it had raised quite a stir in them. She smiled wider. Whatever they were planning to do with her it wouldn’t work. She was not who they needed. For whatever reason they needed Sonny, maybe to lift their awful curse, and maybe not. Either way she would keep his secret.

“What’re ye smiling at girly?” one of the crew asked her as he roughly bound her hands; soft smooth hands that had never known a day’s work.   

She didn’t answer; she just let herself be sat in one of the longboats. She would be brave, for Sonny, for her father, for Marianne.