[For Charles Vane] Capture the Queen

[happyfalcon]

True to her word, Anne had returned to Eleanor Guthrie's pub late the next morning after her..."discussion" with Charles. It had taken her some time upon waking that morning to recover the use of her legs. She didn't want to go wobbling into Eleanor's office, no. She would walk in tall and authoritative. Which was precisely what she did. Anne walked into the pub with two pirate guards from the Ranger in tow.

At first Eleanor had refused to see her, but Anne was not about to take "no" for an answer. She'd practically forced her way in, and made her case to Eleanor - making a political apology, which was hardy an apology at all. Anne pointed out precisely what she had stated to Charles the night before; essentially how Eleanor couldn't afford to lose the business brought in by the Ranger, and how the new lady of the crew had an eye for finer ships and treasures. Anne was an asset, and she was determined to prove it.

Reluctantly Eleanor had accepted Anne's not-apology, and things were smoothed over between the two women. Anne left the pub satisfied in her mission. The pirate guards followed after her, mildly impressed with her work. But then again, women were of course well-known for being cunning and manipulative; Boleyns even more so.

Anne was so pleased with herself that she didn't realize they were being stalked. Until it was too late. Someone sprang from the shadows and slit the throat of one of her guards, spraying deep red blood all over Anne. The other guard was grabbed, but he was larger and struggled against his attacker. But the distraction was all Ned Low needed to step up behind Anne and press his blade to her slender throat.

"There's a pretty bird. Don't try and fly away now, may have to clip those wings," his voice made Anne cringe, but she didn't struggle. One wrong move and her throat would be open faster than any sealed letter.

The pirate guard that had accompanied her broke free, but realizing there was no saving the lady without risking Ned slitting her throat - and being unwilling to deliver such news to his captain - he bolted. At the very least, he would get back to Vane and tell him what happened. Anne was Ned Low's prisoner, for now. Ned secured her wrists behind her back and dragged her back to the brothel in town, paying for a room before dragging Anne further, up the stairs and to the room he'd purchased. He was reluctant to take her back to the Fancy, lest her Captain take out his frustration on the ship in an effort to reclaim her.

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[getonwithitmfer]

The angers of pirate captains were as varied as the captains themselves. Some clothed their fury in self-righteousness, like James Flint of the Walrus, and some were savages, like Ned Low himself. Charles Vane showed little of his emotions during the best of times, and during the worst of times he was even more silent, more stony. But those who knew him best knew what to look for-- his eyes narrowed into slits, a certain vein that might throb at his temple, and the way his knuckles might turn white as he gripped the hilt of the sword at his hip.

When Charles emerged from his cabin after speaking to the lone man who returned without his partner or Anne, the cold fury that wrapped around him made every man jack on the deck of the Ranger step back in caution. With barely audible grunts, Vane selected a half dozen men to accompany him in a longboat back to shore.

Arriving at the brothel, Max was waiting a dozen steps from the door, entreating him to take his battle elsewhere. An icy glance in the petite woman's direction silenced her voice and the heavy pouch of coin that Charles dropped into Max's hands silenced her opposition. "Just try not to break too much furniture," she told him, her French-accented voice resigned but no longer upset. "It takes ages to get decent replacements."

With almost no regard for the idea that there might be rifles and pistols aimed at the street from within, Vane strode for the front door, kicked it open, and bellowed a single word.

"LOW!"