by Matthew Notch » Sat Jul 13, 2013 7:00 am
The air of death was gradually diluted with a peaceful breeze from over the shore as the evening finally shrank back into night. Sitting on the sands of the beach, watching the sun go down, and Orangebeard's ship following it on the horizon, Monsieur De Reirre reflected on his tumultuous time on this island he'd come to call home. The commodore was smart; he'd known early on that Matthau was a pirate, not of any consequence of course, but a buccaneer nonetheless. What he hadn't known is that Matthau was tired of the sea. As soon as his toes touched land, the night after that fateful battle with the murderous Phighthooks, he knew he could never be coaxed onto a vessel again.
It was hard to convince Orangebeard to let him stay. She'd grown awfully fond of his posterior and his readiness to obey and his posterior. But something changed when Nessie had been slipped that bag of gold. No one was sure who was where, and Matthau knew that, sometimes, a loyal pirate must act alone while he doesn't know who else he can turn to. He spoke up, in full hearing of everyone, and offered a few theories as to who was turned. This, in part, brought Nessie out of hiding, and the end result was victory after all for the Beards.
They celebrated when Nessie died, but not Matthau. Although he knew their friendship had been in vain, he never forgot Nessie or the times he'd shared with her. He knew that, after days at sea, a man's mind can do strange things to his motivations, and while he was ready to just settle down and forget the whole bloody business of pirating, Nessie took the next step, the darker step, and paid for it with her life. He couldn't blame her... much as he wanted to. And while his crewmates reveled in their victory, he sat away from the crowd and drank his rum quietly, a single tear on his weary face.
Orangebeard saw how this had affected him, and gave him a few coins and a flintlock pistol, slapping him on the posterior one more time for memory. "You don't let anyone take what's yours, De Reirre." The words seemed perfunctory, which is probably the only way Orangebeard could say them without falling apart, and Matthau was grateful, though his heart was heavy too. She sensed something afoot at the Jolly Bean and ran for it while Skyrim hanged in the square, leaving Matthau with his money and weapon and a lot of unsaid words. He would never see her, or any of his crew, again.
That night he sat on the sand, hoping to catch a glimpse of his old seabound home, and catch it he did. The Phighthooks were gone, and so was their captain, or so it seemed. The Commodore granted him a small plot to build a little house beside the ocean, so he could always look out, and on occasion, welcome his old friends if they should chance his way again. He reached beside him, staring into the distance, and picked up the only other possession he'd managed to make off with from the boat before the hanging: his old guitar. His mother had given it to him years ago when her hands had grown too weary to play it herself, and now he held it, feeling the pain of countless battles in his bones and the wear of salty air in his joints. Tomorrow he would wash his hands and his body and become a new man, but tonight he was still a pirate, and he sang a song for his friends:
O, little sailor alone on the ocean
Where does your star lead tonight?
The sun is descending below the horizon
And your boat will follow the light
O, little sailor alone on the ocean
Where do your feet feel all right?
There on the beaches where your ships find their moorings,
Or out on the foam and the tide?
You'll find, my sailor, your star
Shining like fire
Fire in the sky
O may your home be not far
Where you retire
And where you will finally lay down and die.
O, little sailor lain under the ocean
Wet as the day you arrived
Have you found peace in the deep? Has it found you?
Sleep now, may God close your eyes.
You'll find, my sailor, your star
Shining like fire
Fire in the sky
O may your home be not far
Where you retire
And where you will finally lay down and die.
It's Dangerous to Go Alone
"I desperately want Jiggery Pokery now."-- Pikajew
"I do feel that if she happens to favour attractive, successful, intelligent men I will be at a disadvantage."--Anglerphobe
"I have a beautiful sphincter and Mexico is gonna pay for it."--Kate