The ship had asked for seasoned and novice sailors to sail around from Antiva, through the Riallo Bay, along the shore line of the Amaranthine Ocean, down into the Waking Sea, into Val Royeaux. It was a familiar path, Celine knew, used to doing her smuggling runs between Bastion and Wycome, sometimes down as far as Denerim. Never the Northern Passage for her though. That was too much to take on at her age. Leave Venefication Sea and the Passage to younger blood, blood that didn't mind possibly being spilled by pirates, intent on taking cargo. Pirates, much like the ones that were running up on them quickly as they had made their way through the straight between Ferelden and the Free Marches. Pirates, that thought they had important cargo to be sailing, since they were flying Orlais colors. Pirates, that would probably decide that none of them could live.
It was days like this that she wished, dearly wished, she had spent the day at home there in Bastion, in her cottage, up on the cliffs, so close to Free March territory that she never claimed Bastion as her home, no, even though her cottage sat firmly in Antivan territory. No, there where the sea bit into the main land, she was able to ferry things across to the middle, to her partner in crime, Nolan, when she could. The rigger had caught up to them by the time she had shook the memory of Nolan from her mind. Another time, she needed to focus up if she was going to survive the initial onslaught.
Pulling her blades, she backed up into someone, knowing who that someone was, by smell alone, before she could see. Horus, you have my back in this, yeah? Ain't nothing on board worth dying for, you and I both know it, but these people can't fight like we can. Most of them were young men, their first time on a boat, that's how much of an easy run this should have been.
Horus grinned, his shapeshifter instincts already on high alert as he felt the familiar weight of his staff in his hand. The salty sea breeze mixed with the scent of Celine's presence was comforting amidst the chaos. He gave her a reassuring nod, his bright eyes glinting with excitement.
Aye, Celine, I've got your back. Nothing worth dying for, but plenty worth living for. These scallywags won't know what hit 'em.
He took a swig from his flask, the rum warming his insides, and then corked it tightly. As he felt the magic surge through his veins, he could feel his body tingling, ready to shift if needed. His healing abilities were prepared, but he was also ready to unleash the fury of the sea on these pirates.
Let's show 'em what seasoned sailors can do, he said with a wink, positioning himself to protect the young men who were clearly out of their depth. Stay close, and let's make this a tale worth telling.
With that, he readied himself for the impending fight, knowing that with Celine by his side, they had a fighting chance. Though truth be told he wasn’t keen on fighting, he’d much rather solve things diplomatically over a drink, but sadly not everyone could be sensible enough to agree to such terms and only knew how to fight.
AS the ship caught up to them, and knocked into their side, Celine toed a barrel of sand over, spilling it over the wooden planks of the deck. Blood was going to be spilled, so she'd need access to the sand to keep her footing sure. She had fought, before, on smaller vessels, where keeping her balance along side her more acrobatic feats had been more challenging, but when the blood started to pool, it would make for something even she couldn't overcome to prevent a fall.
She looped a bit of leather around each of her blades, then to her wrists. She wouldn't be throwing the blades, and even if she did, she knew how to do such even with the tether. No, she needed to be able to drop the blade and not have it skitter away from her, or if she got her hands bloody, needed to make sure she didn't lose the blade to slickness. Good, you can put me on it later if we live through this, just like old times, or over a cannon, I'm not picky. She winked at him as the smirk settled over her face.
Take the young ones below deck. The first pirate had made their way over the gunwhale and was pulling themselves up on deck as Celine pulled away from Horus' back, stepping forward and slamming one of her swords into the pirate's eye socket before they could get fully on deck. A foot to the pirate's face helped her pull the blade free, and push the now corpse back onto the next pirate below. Straight to boarding. They had to know this was a training run then. That, or they were going to try and take the ship. Her eyes scanned how many were trying to climb up, the count immediately reaching double digits, and she quickly went back to Horus, shaking her head.
They really don't need to see what's about to happen next. Take them down then come back up here. We're two against nineteen now. And that's just who they're bringing on for the boarding. As she talked, she saw the captain's cabin slam shut and heard something being dragged along the deck. And that useless "captain" should have been the first one I put a blade through. She quickly moved, sliding more of the sand around, and letting the first stirrings of adrenaline into her system soothe her into the calm she'd need to fight.
Ah, Celine, always the practical one, Horus said, giving her a roguish grin as he took a swig from his flask, seemingly unbothered by the chaos around them. He leaned casually against the mast, looking for all the world like a man enjoying a leisurely afternoon rather than facing a horde of bloodthirsty pirates. Sand on the deck, blades tethered... you've thought of everything, love.
As Celine moved to deal with the first boarder, Horus straightened, eyes narrowing as he sized up their foes. He watched her dispatch the pirate with a swift, brutal efficiency, and gave an appreciative nod. Nicely done, he murmured to himself, his hand flexing as if in preparation for something more primal.
When she returned to him, talking of the young ones below deck and their outnumbered situation, he gave a nonchalant shrug. Nineteen, you say? Well, that's a bit more than I'd prefer, but I've been in worse scraps. And as for our 'captain'... well, I never did have much faith in him.
He started towards the hatch leading below deck, pausing to offer Celine a lopsided grin. []qDon't worry, I'll get the young ones safe. And then, my dear, I'll be right back up here, ready to dance with our new friends. Just like old times.[/q]
He moved to the hatch, calling out to the others. Alright, lads and lasses, time to take a little trip below deck. Don't argue, just move. He glanced back at Celine, lifting his flask in a mock toast. And Celine, once this is all over... drinks are on me, he added with a wink.
Once the younger crew members were secure, Horus stepped back on deck, but this time his demeanor shifted. His eyes gleamed with a wild light, and his body began to change. Bones cracked, muscles bulged, and within moments, he had transformed into a massive bear. The hulking form towered over the pirates, exuding an aura of raw power and primal fury.
He let out a deep, earth-shaking roar, a challenge and a promise of the violence to come. Let's give 'em hell, shall we? his voice growled, resonating with the deep timbre of his bear form. He stood ready, a living wall of fur and muscle, prepared to protect Celine and their ship with all the ferocity of a beast unleashed.
Practical? She questioned, grinning as she watched him move. It was a dance neither of them were strangers too -- the dance of death. It wasn't something one forgot, especially not with as long as they had been in the life. But she was happy that Horus was the same flirt as he had always been. I'll throw the man overboard if we live through all this, and then we'll take his bed for ourselves. And the table. The deck, the wheel, I'll even let you tie my hands to the wheel this time.. You know, a proper celebration of being alive.
The bravado was stowed as she watched the heads of the younger sailors vanish below decks, heard someone tell them to pull the canons back in and close the hatches since they were full on into a boarding party. They'd be safe below, she was certain of it. She wouldn't have to have those children's blood on her hands, just these pirates that had decided that they looked like easy prey. And if there was something that Celine had learned early in life, looks could be deceiving. Especially when in a different life she had been an assassin, and a damn fine good one.
So by the time she heard Horus back beside her, heard the drop in timbre of his voice, felt the vibration of his magic ripple outwards, felt the smooth caress of fur beside her cheek, she had already fell three more of the onboarding hoard. They were down to sixteen left coming over the gun rail. Hell and a good trip there. She used his transformation, and the shock it caused, to step into a pirate, twice as big as her, her shoulder to his sternum as she struck both daggers into his stomach, over and over, making sure to perforate as much inner clockwork as she could -- he might live through her initial strikes, but he would be in for a painful, slow death, if he did. And it was much what he deserved, trying to take a ship with the median age of the crew being 22. Sure, many of them were adults in body, but this was their first time on a boat.
Thank the Maker that she and Horus had decided to take this run together -- old time's sake. Celine couldn't stay retired to save her life after all. She finished the one pirate, chucking him back over the gun rail as she turned to get the next. Fifteen to go. You're falling behind Horus! I know you're not one for murder as I am, but it's five to zero at the moment, Ser.
Aye love, one of us ought to try and be. He said with a chuckle. The wheel, you say? he chuckled, slashing at an oncoming pirate with his claws. Now that is a celebration worth fighting for. But first, let’s send these scoundrels back to the depths. With a roar, Horus fully embraced his bear form, fur sprouting and muscles bulging. His massive frame towered over the pirates, and his roar sent shockwaves of fear through their ranks.
Horus waded into the fray, his claws and teeth tearing through the enemy with brutal efficiency. You thought you’d find easy prey here? he bellowed, his voice a deep rumble. You’ve bitten off more than you can chew, mates!
He took down another pirate, his claws ripping through flesh and bone. Falling behind? Me? he called out to Celine, his voice carrying over the chaos. I’m just giving you a head start, love! Sure he typically preferred to solve things diplomatically, or just avoiding fights in general, but when the situation or cause warranted it, he wasn’t above ripping into people, especially if it came down to his life or theirs.
With a powerful swipe, he decapitated one pirate and then spun to knock another overboard. Six to five, and I’m just getting started! His laughter was a deep, resonant sound that mingled with the screams and roars around them.
The pirates, realizing their mistake too late, faced a whirlwind of fury. Horus reveled in the fight, his bear form a relentless force of nature. This, he roared, slamming another pirate into the deck, is what happens when you underestimate us!
As he dispatched another foe, he caught a glimpse of Celine, her movements a deadly dance. Seven to five, and I’m gaining on you! he shouted, his eyes gleaming with challenge. Let’s show these fools why they should have stayed in port!
Celine fell into the easiness that battle drew over her, the veil of ignoring the screaming that faded out, the bitter coppery smell of blood, the acid tang in the air of magic, the stench of shit from splayed intestines, and the salt that permeated it all. It was easy to narrow her focus down on just her breath, inhale, exhale, as she ducked a swinging paw, claws that couldn't stop for her as she tumbled into a crouch, daggers finding home in guts once again. She was moving for efficiency, and that meant taking whatever killing blow she could -- it also meant getting in closer than what she normally liked in a situation.
She enjoyed being on a ridge with a nice crossbow, or a brush by with a small vial of poison into a cup. Being forced to used her knives, to use her body in a way that it wasn't meant to move in any longer, was difficult. She would hurt for the next few days, would wake up sore and painful, would go to bed sore and painful. But she'd wake up alive.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Her daggers found home once again, this time between the second and third ribs, a twist, and then a jerk ripped a solid hole in the chest, but the heart had stopped beating moments before, the serration on the dagger having ripped flesh enough for her hand to follow through into the jagged hole she had tore, and now that her fingers were wet, she was more than happy for the tethers. Someone stepped a little too close as she worried the blade free from where a serration had caught on the rib, and she kicked out at them, even as the now dead pirate became dead weight on her arm, pinning her in place because she couldn't get the second blade free.
That was her problem, she always stabbed with both blades, so while she had one free, the other, stuck. Aye, you are, little help, knock this one off me will ya? She jerked her head to the side as the incredibly dead pirate had her staggering, thankful for the sand she had kicked over because she was losing the war with staying upright. Her only saving grace in all of it was that she was close enough to Horus to begin with that no one wanted to try and get too much closer to her to try and kill her. Always a plus. I'm going to have to wash this jacket so many times to get all this blood out. That or just finally dye it all black!
Horus, still in his bear form, glanced over at Celine with a lopsided grin that looked almost comical on his massive, fur-covered face. He swiped at the pirate pinning her, sending the corpse flying off her with a force that would’ve been impressive if it weren’t so necessary.
Aye, Celine, he rumbled, his voice thick with amusement. No need to get yourself tangled up in the dance. You know I prefer to lead.
He turned his attention back to the remaining pirates, his eyes gleaming with mischief. As for your jacket, love, black’s always been more your color, don’t you think? Matches that deadly disposition of yours. Besides, he added with a wink, bloodstains add character.
With a quick shake of his massive shoulders, Horus roared and charged at the remaining pirates, his sheer size and strength making quick work of anyone foolish enough to stand in his way. He swatted one overboard with a single paw, his claws slashing through another with a sickening crunch.
Ten to seven now! he called out to Celine, his tone teasing. Better keep up, love, or I might just steal all the glory.With a final roar, Horus slammed his weight into the last few pirates, sending them scattering. His eyes sparkled with the thrill of the fight, but there was a sharp intelligence there too, calculating and ever watchful.
Now, about that celebration, he said, shifting back into his human form with a smirk. He adjusted his hat, brushing off the blood and debris with an exaggerated flourish. You’ll let me tie you to the wheel, eh? Now that’s a proper way to toast to survival.
He offered Celine a mock bow, a hand over his heart, but the grin on his face was pure mischief. Shall we finish off these stragglers and find ourselves a nice bottle of rum? I’ve a feeling we’ll need it after all this… exercise.
Adds character? Celine breathed, her voice hitching in indignation, as the effects of battle started to wear her down finally. This was going to be one that she wouldn't forget any time soon, and probably would take a long time to recover from after. I happen to love the mauve of this coat, Horus! It matches my sanguine sense of humor! Her dagger jerked free of the corpse, and free of her hand when the bear paw took the dead pirate away from her, bodily. Thankfully, she had looped her leathers before battle, small blessings.
She fell back into the rhythm of dispatching bodies as blood splashed across her face, drenched her hair -- don't think about it -- she reminded herself over and over as she just killed. If she stopped to think, even for a moment, they'd die. She wasn't thoughts, she was just whirling death -- a snapped neck and another body over the side, a belly wound that would never see the light of day again and another splash off the side, and then one last major splash as the last ones went flying over the side of the gunrail and into the sea.
With as much blood as there was in the water, they'd not live unless their boat turned around and got them, a little tough, when the battery of canons finally went off, the young ones below taking decisive action to sink the other ship. Damns.. I would have liked that one for my own, ya know? She watched as they tried to swing wide finally, open sea once again between the two boats, giving her more than enough room to breathe finally. Aye, the wheel, provided you hold my hips up this time and not let them bang against the less pleasurable wood.. She gave up on the coat, and used the inside lining to finally wipe all the blood from her face. And a bath. I'll let you bathe me if you draw the water up for me..
Horus barked out a laugh, sliding his flask from his belt and tipping it in her direction. Mauve, eh? And here I thought it was more… ‘cherry cordial’ with an attitude. His lips twisted in a grin as he glanced down at his own clothes, equally stained and ragged from the skirmish. Blood, sea salt, and a bit of battle grime—they’re the marks of a well-lived life, aren’t they?
As the last stragglers tumbled over the edge and the cannon blasts sent their foes scrambling, Horus wiped his face with the back of his hand, surveying the scene with satisfaction. The thrill of victory and survival thrummed through his veins, though he was distinctly aware of the sharp ache creeping into his muscles as the bear's adrenaline wore off. Ah, and there’s the crew coming through at last! Bold lot—took their time, but they’ve got spirit.
He leaned on his staff, giving Celine a mock serious look as she mentioned the lost prize of the pirate ship. Would’ve made a nice addition, no doubt, he agreed with a wink. Could’ve named it something fierce—*Celine’s Wrath*, perhaps? Strikes terror and all that.
Straightening, he extended a hand to her, his grin only growing wider at her remark about the wheel. Your hips shall be in the finest care, I assure you, he promised with a mischievous sparkle in his eye. And for the bath, love, I’d draw a whole ocean’s worth if it meant sharing it with you. Come, we’ll rinse off this muck together and toast to another scrape survived. Just like old times.
With a flourishing bow and a theatrical swipe of his hat, he led the way, the thrill of battle settling into a comfortable warmth as the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting the promise of a quieter, more private celebration ahead.
Celine's hand slid into his as she slid along some of the sand, the laugh bubbling out of her first haltingly and then all at once, as she pulled him below deck, towards their new bedroom, since the captain had abandoned as soon as they could, she figured it was theirs now. She gave some orders here and there, to clean off the deck, to mop it clean, throw bodies overboard, and shove daggers through the throats of anyone still breathing. It would do them good, the younger ones, to get a taste of what it was life, being at sea, and sailing through these waters.
But she knew, probably as well as he did, as soon as they were clean it would be sleep, the adrenaline was wearing off and she was starting to shake from the effort to not sink to the floor and just take time to realize she was still alive. And once they were alone, she set about automatically filling the wash basin with magic warmed water, the door locked, looking for a bottle of rum to pass between them.
Celine shed clothes, and sunk into the water with her eyes closed, before the patted the water in front of her, an invitation. We took on 19 and lived, that's.. got to be a new record for us. Her voice was quieter than it had been before, when they yelled to have one another's attentions. Now, as the heat from the water set in, the groaned, I thought we were done for this time.
She eyed the bed, a narrow thing, but clean, and knew that was where she was heading next, as soon as she got done scrubbing the blood off both them. More rum, and then she'd take being held the entire time they slept. They could figure out the rest come morning time, Come on Horus, you've got clotted blood in your beard.
Horus grinned as Celine tugged him below deck, her laughter infectious as it filled the narrow corridors of their new ship. He followed her lead, his swagger as loose as ever, though he, too, felt the weight of the battle sinking into his bones. He watched her issue orders to the younger crew with a lazy sort of pride, taking in the sight of her commanding the ship with ease.
Ah, the smell of success and freshly mopped decks, he muttered under his breath with a chuckle, trailing behind her until they reached the captain’s quarters. He locked the door behind them with a flourish, as if sealing away the chaos of the world outside.
As Celine filled the basin with water and stripped out of her bloodstained clothes, Horus glanced around the room, finding a bottle of rum tucked behind some old navigational charts. Aha, just what the doctor ordered. He popped the cork with his teeth, spitting it to the side with a satisfied grin. He took a swig, then handed the bottle to Celine as she sank into the water, her body visibly relaxing in the warmth.
He looked down at his own battle-worn clothes and chuckled when she patted the water in front of her. Well, can’t say no to that invitation, love. He pulled off his shirt, revealing a myriad of scars and bruises from their many adventures, and shed the rest of his clothes with his usual carefree attitude before stepping into the basin with a dramatic sigh of relief.
Nineteen, you say? he mused, sinking into the water in front of her. Not bad, not bad at all. And yes, I’ll admit it—I thought this might be the one where we finally ran out of luck. His tone softened, a rare moment of honesty slipping through his usual bravado. But here we are, still breathing. That’s gotta count for something.
He tilted his head back, closing his eyes as the warmth seeped into his aching muscles. When she mentioned the blood in his beard, he cracked one eye open and smirked. Clotted blood, you say? Well, I suppose that’s part of the pirate charm. But if it offends your delicate sensibilities, I’ll allow you to scrub it off.
He shifted forward slightly, offering her easier access to his face, the playful glint in his eyes never quite fading. Can’t have me looking less than dashing, now can we? Not after surviving 19 bloodthirsty fools.
Look, I invited, and you know if would be a shame for you to decline the offer of a Crow. But you won't find me sitting here going 'I will make you an offer you cannot refuse', I like to save that for when you're balls deep inside me in the morning. She let her eyes roam his frame, unabashedly as he joined her, using the opportunity to slide under the warmth to get anything stuck in her own hair loose before she surfaced back up, cracking her neck as she did. Today was not that day, for that we can be thankful, and well, tomorrow, we'll count something different to be thankful for.
It was easy, with Horus, the bravado was for show, when it was just the two of them like this, but they exuded it on the battle field, the fact that the both of them knew just how close today had been, well. That would make for a good story around a campfire, the next time the Five met. In the middle of winter, in Arlathan forest they would meet and swap their tales of the year, and then each would go back to their respective corners of the globe until the next year, save when they'd meet one another for odd jobs here and there, like this had been. Maker help her if she hadn't had Horus with her on this job.
She shifted in the tub, leaning forward to where she could work at cleaning the blood out of his beard, to have a hand on him, a reassurance than they were still there, alive, sore and bloodied, but alive. They could do with a vacation, We should go to that little cottage up off the tip of Rivain for a week after this, spend some time in the water before we could sail across the bay into Antiva City, have some coffee, some rum, good food. She could check in with her family, see if they had something that needed to me smuggled down into Ferelden. She may be retired in the sense that she no longer took contracts, but she still helped the family smuggle things through her little inlet there at the border of the Free Marches. And it would give her time to not think about how they had almost just been dead. I think there were a couple balconies left in the City we hadn't yet had me bent over, we have to finish that tour, we're so close to having completed it.
She finished with the blood, as she leaned in and claimed a kiss, languid and slow, enjoying the feel of his lips against hers, the scratch of his beard, and the knowledge of what that mouth of his could do to her in the small hours of the morning, but it was more than just that, Celine couldn't remember a time, even when she had been an active Crow, when they hadn't indulged in one another after a battle, couldn't remember a time when she hadn't started feeling the low heat pool in her abdomen when she had his back pressed to hers, daggers drawn, and facing down death in a million different ways. Her desire for him had always been coupled with the knowledge that they were alive, had lived another day, another time they would meet one another in bed, until both were sated, only to find the next time they would almost die, and need to find a reason to live again with their bodies tangled up with one another. And as she broke that kiss, the heat between her legs and along her cheeks telling her she was more than ready she wondered if this was all there was for them, fighting and fucking. You want to run your hands all over my body first, or would you like me to soap you up before me? After all, she had offered to let him soap her up first. Then a rinse, and then we go straight to that cot right there, she raised a wet hand from the water.
Where you're going to hold me all night, naked. She grinned as she shifted in the tub, reaching behind him for the bar of soap there, and so tempted to say to hell with waiting for morning as wet bare skin slid along his own wet skin as she brought the bar close and dunked it into the water to start creating a lather. As you said, can't have you be anything but dashing, and I like being clean before I get covered in sweat and other liquids again.
Horus’s grin widened, a glint of mischief flashing in his dark eyes as he leaned back in the tub, thoroughly enjoying the way Celine’s hands moved with deliberate care through his beard. The tension of battle melted from his body as her touch lingered, her words wrapping around him like the warmth of the water.
Ah, love, you do spoil me, he murmured, the words low and teasing. I don’t know what’s more tempting—the promise of Rivaini waters or that grand tour of Antivan balconies. Although… we do have a knack for leaving quite the impression, don’t we?
He hummed appreciatively as her fingers worked the last of the blood and grime free from his face, his eyes half-lidded as he watched her. Her suggestion of retreating to Rivain tugged at something deeper within him—a yearning for a rare slice of peace. Still, the idea of Antiva City and its familiar chaos had its appeal too.
Rivain for the sea, Antiva for the scandal. Why not both? We’ve earned a bit of indulgence, wouldn’t you say? Though I’ll have to insist we add another stop to the list—a tavern in Llomerryn. Best rum on this side of Thedas, and I’ve yet to see you bent over a Rivaini barrel. He waggled his eyebrows at her, his tone entirely unrepentant.
The kiss caught him mid-thought, and for once, Horus let himself fall into it without a quip or a laugh. Her lips were soft and slow against his, the scrape of his beard meeting the smoothness of her skin in a way that made his chest tighten. It wasn’t just the heat that stirred between them—it was the underlying gratitude, the silent *we survived* that passed between every shared breath.
When she pulled back, his grin returned, lazy and languid, his eyes flickering with desire and affection alike. I’d say I deserve a turn at soaping you up first, seeing as you’ve already tended to my handsome face. Fair is fair, aye?
He reached for the bar of soap in her hand, his fingers brushing hers beneath the water. The sly grin on his lips never faded as he leaned forward, his body sliding against hers under the warm water, every move deliberate.
And as for holding you all night… he began, his voice a husky drawl as he lathered his hands. That’s not just a promise, love. That’s a guarantee.
His hands skimmed over her shoulders, the lather spreading as he began to wash away the remnants of the battle. His touch lingered, slow and thorough, as though savoring every moment.
Can’t have you going to bed anything less than pristine, now can we? he added with a wink. Though I’ll be perfectly happy to undo all this cleanliness by the time we’re through tonight.
The tension of battle was gone now, replaced by the quiet intimacy of shared survival. Whatever the morrow brought, it could wait. Tonight, there was only them—alive, whole, and entirely theirs.
