The Captain’s Gambit - prologue
The streets of Port Royale were alive with the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Vendors shouted from their stalls, trying to outdo each other, while kids darted between the legs of the crowd, their laughter ringing out. The rich paraded in their fancy clothes, ignoring the poor who begged for just a glance. It was a place of sharp contrasts, where every day was a struggle for some and a celebration for others.
Remus Lupin watched from the sidelines, his gaze as deep as the ocean. The noise, the fake smiles, the whole charade of the gala—it all made him sick. It reminded him too much of a past he'd rather forget, of a life where he was nothing more than a shadow in his own home.
"Lost in thought, or just brooding for the fun of it?" James's voice cut through Remus's reverie, a note of mirth in his tone.
Remus turned, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "A bit of both, I suppose. This place reeks of false promises."
James clapped him on the shoulder, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Then let's relieve them of a few, shall we? Our friends at the gate are ready to play their part."
The plan was simple, yet daring. Two guards, indebted to the Black Sails, would sneak them into the gala. From there, it was a matter of timing and a touch of pirate cunning.
"And if we're caught?" Remus asked, though the thrill of the challenge already coursed through his veins.
"We won't be," James assured him, his confidence as infectious as ever. "After all, who would suspect a couple of well-dressed gentlemen like us?"
The corners of Remus's mouth quirked upward. "Famous last words, Potter." With a shared nod, they melted into the crowd, two more faces in a sea of many. The heist awaited, and with it, the chance to tip the scales, if only for a night.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------In the shadowed corner of a dimly lit tavern, the rest of the Black Sails crew gathered, their heads bowed over parchments and maps. The air was thick with the smell of rum and anticipation.
"Are we all set then?" Lily's voice was sharp, cutting through the low hum of conversation. She was met with a chorus of affirmations.
Marlene leaned back in her chair, a smirk playing on her lips. "Just think of the looks on their faces when they realize they've been outwitted by a bunch of 'savages.'"
Dorcas chuckled, her eyes dancing with excitement. "They'll be too busy crying over their lost jewels to even notice."
Barty and Evan exchanged a glance, the unspoken thrill of the upcoming challenge reflected in their eyes. "To the Black Sails," Barty raised his glass, "and to the sea, the only mistress who's never betrayed us."
"To freedom," Evan added, his voice a low rumble.
"And to family," Peter piped up, his usual nervousness absent in the comfort of his crew.
The toast was echoed, and glasses clinked in the dim light. They were more than a crew; they were a family forged in the fires of adversity, each member with a past they'd rather leave behind. As the final plans were laid, the camaraderie of the crew shone like a beacon. Tonight, they would dance with danger, and if fortune favored them, they would emerge richer in coin and in spirit.