The Collector |Sequel to Collector of Odd|

VIII |Kriegspiel|

A taste of the crown is every man's desire

          Mirela had a way with blending in, it was all a game to her, miss direction was something she had mastered long ago. Maybe that was why she was able to avoid Jack's searching eyes well into the night. She had followed the idiot pirate, listening to the talk of mutiny with his crew mates, the way he was able to talk his way into problems had the gypsy wishing to through him overboard. He would have better luck with the sharks, she was sure of it, yet she also knew Captain Jack Sparrow did as he pleased. Thus, the gypsy avoided his chocolate eyes.

           Mirela was no fool when it came to Blackbeard, she had felt his anger before, and she knew this mutiny Jack had planned would not go the way the ship less captain expected. With a breathless sigh, Mirela watched with stormy eyes as the crew dashed after a war crying Scrum. Mirela tipped the three point hat upon her head further over her eyes, those angry hued orbs flickered quickly after the man she had followed to what she thought could very well be her death. Jack had none too quietly slunk down the hall Mirela had favored to hide in most nights on the ship. She knew he was heading for Angelica's chambers.

          The gypsy had found the one place no one would look for you, would be the place closest to the one you despised. So, the fiery woman had let herself night after night watch Angelica walk by her and to her chambers blissfully unaware of the danger lurking so close to her den. Like a fox, Mirela had broken into the hen house. Many a times she caught herself wishing to stick a knife into the woman's back, but Mirela held herself at a higher regard than that. If she were to kill someone, she would look them in the eye.

          Once the gypsy was sure Jack was within Angelica's chambers, the gypsy stepped out of the shadows, only to disappear around the corner and head for Blackbeard's own. With her face set in grim determination, the gypsy decided to do what she did best. She would play another dangerous game, a game that would either make or break her very soul. She did not knock at the Captain's door, nor did she try to be quiet as she slammed the oak door shut and locked it with an audible click. Jack made his move, it was her turn now, one that would save the mans life.

          "I don't suppose you've come to kill me?" Though the question was lased with irritation and mild curiosity, Mirela knew Blackbeard hadn't been expecting her to come storming into his chambers. His ocean blue eyes foamed at her with caution, reminding her so much of the night he had chased her with fire. The gypsy didn't dance airily around his chambers like she was known for, she did the opposite in fact. Putting the man on edge like he hadn't been before. She stood straight, her weight slightly on her left leg while her left hand rested atop the hilt of her blade. She was here to speak business, that much was clear.

          "Listen closely and take into consideration my actions. A mutiny is happening among your crew as we speak, and your daughter lies with the man who oversees it." Her words were like fire and ice. Licking at the very air Blackbeard breathed, yet touching his skin with a coldness that burned worse than the flames. The Captain of Queen Anne's Revenge looked over the face of the gypsy before him, her face held no emotion other than the storm that rolled in waves within her eyes. He knew she was a trickster, knew the woman he had tried to kill wasn't to be trusted, but something had always called to him about her. The way she was quick to anger, yet quicker to love. It was foolish, but he couldn't deny that it made her an honorable opponent. Some twisted part of Blackbeard was glad she hadn't succumbed to the flames, some tormented part of his soul longed to be kept in this cycle of misery.

          "Mutiny you say.." The sneer that pulled at his lips had Mirela giving him her own dangerous smirk. Whether he had taken her bait or simply brushed her aside about his supposed beloved daughter, she wasn't sure, but she did know she had many more pawns to sacrifice for the unaware Sparrow. "Remember Blackbeard, you may have hated my games, but it was you who tried to kill me." Her tone was a hiss, all fire this time, causing his chin to tilt upward in silent acknowledgment. There it was, the spark in his ocean eyes and she knew he'd taken his bait like a hungry shark. Men were all the same she had come to realize, some just more cursed than the others.

          The knock on his chamber doors prevented the pair from speaking anymore, though Mirela still had one move to play for the night. The gypsy moved silently across his chambers, her fingers ghosting across the table that seemed to always stand between them. She stopped at his side, her sandy orbs lazily flickered up to him before a wicked grin was flashed his way and she was striding away from him and further into his chambers. The gypsy eyed the deep onyx of the blanket across Blackbeard's bed, a bed that hadn't seemed to be touched in many moons. Without so much as a second thought, the gypsy kicked her boots off and stripped her sheath from her hip. The knocking sounded again. More urgent.

          "Are you going to get the door?" She almost purred the words, making sure her voice carried across his chambers and to Blackbeard as he watched her with narrowed orbs. The gyps simply flashed him her ever famous fox like grin and sprawled across his bed. As Blackbeard rested his hand atop the hilt of his sword, she noticed the subtle movement of the blade and then his chambers door was opening, and tan orbs locked with shocked filled pools of brown.

          Mirela's laughter would forever haunt the daughter of Blackbeard.