The Flint

by L56895

Summary:

Nick needs to get away. What better way than to board the mysterious ship that's docked in town?

Charlie doesn't want to go, but a job is a job. If only he wasn't so sure it was all going to go wrong.

Notes:

• For roo_writes.

Because I can't help myself, here's a countdown for our countdown queen!

What am I counting down to? Nothing exciting. Don't take it seriously.

Different genre for this 100-chap fic! We're going for low-fantasy adventure this time round! Maybe one day I'll tick off every genre...

Chapter 1: Escape

The papers are heavy in Nick’s hand; rolled and bound with a leather string. His letter of recommendation, destined for the captain of the ship that’s towering above him.

The Flint . Some older fisherman in the town’s bawdy tavern talked about it in hushed tones. Its mission is a secret to everyone other than the crew, but Nick’s father – back in France with a mistress and a reputation – has influence. His signature flourishes at the bottom of the page Nick has clutched in his hand.

Nick doesn’t know where the voyage will take him, only that the direction is away .

Chapter 2: Translator

A job’s a job, Charlie reasons, as he grips the side of the ship and glares down at the waves below. They haven’t left the port yet – still waiting on crew from the local town – and already Charlie is feeling the effects of the sea.

There’s a bustle of burly men making their way up the gangplank with packs weighing heavily on their backs. They look at Charlie with strange expressions. He doesn’t fit, he knows. The translator to their brawn. Dead languages are his specialty, but he doubts any of them will appreciate the skill.

He’s resigned to loneliness.

Chapter 3: Insult

The deck lurches underfoot – a necessary evil that he’ll have to endure – and Nick watches as the crew who are still on the docks haul boxes of supplies towards the ship. There’s laughter all around and Nick lets his eyes trail until they land on a man on the deck. He’s looking around, bemused.

“Are you lost?” Nick asks gently. The man frowns.

“No,” he snaps. “I’m the translator for this voyage.”

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Nick blanches. “I didn’t realise we’d need one.”

“How exactly would you read the foreign maps without one?” the man mutters as he storms off.

Chapter 4: Menial

The first morning, the captain calls them all to the deck for training. Nick is posted at the ropes – his muscles screaming as he hauls sails and tries to keep track of every move made around him. 

The man from yesterday perches on a box nearby and watches him.

“You’re not going to make yourself useful?” Nick snaps. The man purses his lips and shakes his head.

“Nope.” He brandishes a quill. “I’m due in the Captain’s quarters shortly. Running through our route. Not menial work for glorified muscle.”

Nick puffs hard enough to force his hair from his eyes.

Chapter 5: Purpose

The captain demands attention. Even the arrogant, curly-haired arsehole doesn’t dare speak. Heavy boots hit the deck. Nick stops mopping.

“Crew!” the captain shouts. “As we set sail, it’s time for you to learn the true purpose of our voyage!” 

His voice echoes amongst the sails. The ship lurches as one man loosens his grip on the rope, before Nick grabs it tight and secures it.

“We seek the lost ship, Redmere. Its crew are gone, but the secrets it learnt will not be lost to history.”

Nick can’t help but notice that the curly-haired man pales at the news.

Chapter 6: Ink

The sea around them is inky and cold. Nick can see a lick of it through the tiny window in the crew’s living quarters. Some of the important people get cabins, it seems, but Nick huddles under a blanket on the bare wood.

Above him, someone’s pacing the deck; the night watchman.

He groans and rolls to one side. Behind a thin curtain, he can see the lithe shape of the translator moving around. Shared insomnia. Briefly, Nick considers knocking and asking if he wants company, in whatever form that takes.

Up on the deck, someone lets out a wail.

Chapter 7: Attack

Notes:

CW: mentions of blood and violence!

Nick scrambles, as soon as he hears the voice. There’s a sick, wet slicing noise and an inhuman gurgle. Nick’s heard that sound before.

A click, and the cabin containing the translator opens.

“Get back inside,” Nick hisses. The man glares.

No time, Nick thinks. He grabs the first blade he sees – glinting in the moonlight through the window – and creeps up the steps. There’s a dark, sticky substance on the boards. His foot squelches in it.

Then, someone grabs him from behind. Nick feels the air knocked out of him as he hits the deck. He swings the blade.

Chapter 8: Rope

There’s that gurgle again. Nick realises what it means too late; his blade has punctured the man’s chest and he watches, horrified, as the life drains out of him. He’s an intruder, yes, but that didn’t mean he deserved to die.

There isn’t enough time to think clearly. Someone grips him by the scruff of his neck and Nick feels a rope tug around his throat. He panics – arms scrambling – but the rope is pulled too tight for purchase.

All he can do is let it happen.

There’s a thump, the man yelps, and the rope around Nick’s neck loosens.

Chapter 9: Alarm

“Get up,” a familiar voice snaps. Nick tugs the rope from his neck and stares up at a pair of dark blue eyes.

“You—”

The translator pales in the moonlight as his eyes sweep over the still forms of the two intruders. Their clothes are definitely not from the docks – torn and tattered and a kind of fabric Nick doesn’t recognise – and the eerie shadow of their ship in the distance denotes them as pirates. 

Nick runs to the big brass bell to raise the alarm as the translator curls himself over the edge of the ship and vomits bodily.

Chapter 10: Hide

Nick grabs the man’s wrist and tugs him back towards the cabins. More voices are joining the fray now – crew risen from bed and more pirates heaving themselves up onto the deck. 

The wind’s been knocked out of Nick, and the translator’s in no fit state to fight. Nick drags them both past their yelling crewmates.

“Protect him!” the captain yells as soon as he spots them both. The translator’s face darkens, but Nick grabs him around the waist and bundles him back into his cabin.

The bolt is heavy when Nick draws it across. Safe, at least, for now.

Chapter 11: Meet

“You alright?” Nick asks quietly. The translator sinks down onto the wooden floor, his fingers finding the grooves in the slats and running across the ridges.

“No,” Charlie says, shivering.

Nick drops down next to him.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “For saving me. I’m sorry you had to—”

“Don’t mention it,” the translator snaps. It doesn’t feel like modesty.

“I-I’m Nick,” Nick murmurs. The introduction feels far too late. The other man glances up at him with hard eyes before his face softens.

“Charlie.”

His palm is warm against Nick’s when they reach across to shake hands.

“Thank you, Charlie.”

Chapter 12: Wound

Charlie’s hands are deft and gentle as he guides Nick’s head side to side so he can inspect the rope burn around his neck. They only have the moonlight – lighting a candle would attract too much attention and there’s still screaming outside the door. Some of the pirates have called to flee – shocked by the brute force of their crew – but the risk is still too great.

“Only superficial,” Charlie whispers, patting Nick gently on the cheek. “You’ll be fine.”

“Why are you so important?” Nick whispers. Charlie sighs.

“You’ll see,” he says sadly, and drops back against the armoire.

Chapter 13: Left

The intruders are gone. Either dead or fled back to the relative safety of their ship. When Nick and Charlie emerge from the cabin, some of the crew are covering bodies with sheets – making the sign of the cross at their chests – while others heave the bodies of the pirates overboard.

The captain nods sagely when they approach.

“We found this on one of the pirates.” He holds out a crumpled piece of paper. “Can you decode it?”

Charlie frowns as he takes the page from the captain.

“Give me time,” he whispers. Then, looking at Nick. “Stay with me?”

Chapter 14: Coordinates

Nick follows Charlie – the captain still on deck yelling at the rest of the crew to flush the wood with saltwater. A river of red water trails past Nick’s feet as they walk. 

Charlie’s door clicks behind them, muffling the shouts of the men outside. Charlie drops carefully down on a chair by the dresser and frowns at the page. 

“Can you translate it?” Nick asks quietly, sinking down onto the makeshift bed next to him.

“Of course I can. Give me—”

He pales. 

“It’s coordinates,” he says eventually, tapping part of the page with his finger. “And a warning.”

Chapter 15: Quill

It takes a while for Charlie to translate the rest. Nick peers over his shoulder as he works.

The letter is written in a scrawling, careful cursive – every word flourished with the flick of a quill. But someone has superimposed more over the top. That must be what Charlie initially saw. Nick doesn’t need to be an expert to be able to tell that it’s written by a different hand; the letters are blocky and shaky while the lines are thicker than the original. 

Whoever wrote it did it in a hurry.

Eventually, Charlie looks at him with worried eyes.

Chapter 16: Bedroll

The captain whisks Charlie away to his quarters when they emerge from the cabin and he sees Charlie’s expression. Nick wasn’t privy to details; Charlie had muttered occasionally under his breath while Nick sat there like part of the furniture, until he’d stood and left Nick without a word.

Now, Nick paces the deck. It does little to clear his head.

When he makes it back to the crew’s quarters, his bedroll is gone. The few belongings he had, too.

On a hunch, he returns to Charlie’s cabin. Someone has left it all on the floor next to the bed.

Chapter 17: Supper

Charlie returns when the sun is dipping below the horizon. Nick spots him from where he’s stirring the pot on supper duty – head bowed and a scroll tucked under his arm. Most of the men have been fed already and the fire is beginning to wane under the pot. Nick takes a cup of water to extinguish it before ladling out the stew into two bowls.

The door is ajar when Nick reaches the cabin; Nick knocks it open with his hip and enters slowly.

“I thought you might—”

He stops, flushed and self-conscious, at the sight of Charlie undressing.

Chapter 18: Gnarled

There’s a gnarled spot in the wood panelling of Charlie’s cabin wall. It’s the only thing Nick can let his eyes focus on as he listens to the soft swish of fabric that signals Charlie is still getting dressed. When Charlie clears his throat, Nick turns slowly to find him dressed in a floaty white shirt and breeches.

“Ink stains,” he murmurs by way of explanation. Nick hands him his stew without a word. He couldn’t form words even if he tried; the sight of Charlie’s pale, smooth chest is burned into his memory and he wants to savour it.

Chapter 19: Protector

They make port earlier than expected – an unscheduled stop according to the rumours that brew amongst the crew. Nick paces along the deck while he waits for Charlie to ready himself for the day.

“Nicholas.” The captain’s hand reaches out to grip Nick’s arm as he passes. “We’re taking on another man for the crew. You’re relieved.”

Nick feels the panic rise.

“I— Wait, I need to leave?”

The captain looks at him like he’s simple.

“No, you’re relieved of your duty to the crew. Your duty is now to the translator. You protect him with your very life, understand?”

Chapter 20: Watching

Charlie’s cabin is somehow harder to sleep in. The mess of bedrolls with the rest of the crew may be loud and smelly, but at least Nick wasn’t laying awake listening to the sound of one particular person breathing.

He rolls over to look at Charlie’s face. He’s less severe in sleep; his features softened. Tomorrow, he’ll return to being serious and secretive – storming back and forth between the captain’s cabin and his with Nick in tow – but for now Nick enjoys this other version of him.

Charlie’s eyes dart open – wide and terrified – seconds before something hits the boat.

Chapter 21: Tilt

Nick finds himself trapped under Charlie's bed as it rolls across the room and hits the far wall. It feels as though the entire ship has lurched sideways: things clatter off of the walls and the dresser as Charlie screams.

Nick grips the underside of the bed and heaves.

When he has clawed himself free, he finds Charlie clinging to the bedframe. There’s a cut on his cheek, while Nick can taste his own blood. He’s fairly sure that his head is bleeding.

Charlie clings to him when he makes it onto the bed.

“Don’t let go,” he whispers frantically.

Chapter 22: Fate

“I’ll drown, one day,” Charlie murmurs when the ship has settled and the screaming outside has stopped. They can both hear the pounding of rain on the deck – an unexpected storm – and the cries of the crew trying to righten the sails. Nick pulls back to watch Charlie’s face. The bed is still shunted against the far wall.

“What d’you mean?”

Charlie looks haunted.

“I’ve seen it,” he whispers. “In my dreams… in the stars. It terrifies me and yet it’s going to happen, eventually.”

Nick shakes his head.

“I won’t let it.”

“You can’t be optimistic against fate, Nick.”

Chapter 23: Fog

The door jams when Nick hurls his weight at it. Outside, a barrel tumbles away when they finally break free.

“Nick?” Charlie’s voice trembles behind him. “What’s happening?”

A thick fog has engulfed the deck. Some of the crew stumble blindly through the thick of it, while the captain has scaled up to the birdsnest with his binoculars.

“I don’t know,” Nick whispers, shielding Charlie with his body. “Stay close.”

Nick feels Charlie’s grip tighten on the back of his shirt. In the distance, lightning flashes across what Nick presumes to be the horizon. A candle nearby flickers.

Someone screams.

Chapter 24: Gaunt

When Nick reaches the far side of the deck with Charlie close behind him, they see why. 

One of the crew – who Nick remembers as a portly fellow who manned the stew most evenings while the rest of them hauled the sails – is suspended from the rigging. His face is pale, his eyes vacant. There’s no question that he’s gone.

Nick recognises his eyes – as empty as they are. On their first day at sea those eyes winked at him as he handed over a heaping bowl of food.

Now, they’re the only recognisable thing in his gaunt, skeletal frame.

Chapter 25: Grave

They bury the man at sea. Nick watches his clothes tumble, as if empty, down into the waves below. None of the crew speak as the sea swallows him up and carries him to his grave; the night shift work in silence, while the rest of them stand in mourning. 

Charlie has already retired back to the cabin. Nick guided him there when he saw the way he paled at the proceedings. 

Nick returns there when the crew disperses back to their own bedrolls. Charlie is curled up, facing the wall, when Nick shuts the door quietly. He doesn’t stir.

Chapter 26: Voices

The sound isn’t obtrusive – not enough to wake him normally – but Nick’s on high alert. So, when the cabin door opens with a muted click, he launches himself off the bedroll. Charlie is gone from his own bed when he looks back, and the cold draft from outside seeps in across the floor.

Outside, one of the night crew is crouched on the floor by the rigging, his hands clasped over his eyes as he rocks and moans.

“Stop it!” he snaps as Nick approaches. “Stop talking!” 

Nearby, another man giggles quietly, twirling his hand in front of his face.

Chapter 27: Bow

Nick finds Charlie at the bow of the ship, his bare feet dancing along the bulwark. He hums as Nick approaches – doesn’t even turn – and Nick’s heart leaps as he takes a step towards the bowspit.

“Charlie!” he whispers urgently. “What are you—”

Nick leans against the bulwark. Charlie’s eyes are glazed in sleep, his lips moving quickly as he mutters something Nick can’t understand.

The ship lurches in the water – the bowspit piercing the fog – and the movement threatens to throw Charlie off balance and down to his watery grave.

Nick reaches up to grab his nightshirt and tugs.

Chapter 28: Awake

By the time Nick has bundled him back into the cabin and slammed the door behind them, Charlie has come to. He blinks blearily into the glow when Nick strikes a match and lights a candle on the dresser.

“What happened?” Charlie murmurs. Nick reaches out to hold both his shoulders steady as he sways.

“You were up on the bowspit,” he breathes shakily. “I-I thought you were going to fall in.”

“I was dreaming.” Charlie furrows his brow and looks around, dazed. “I was in bed…”

“Something’s wrong with this ship, Charlie. Everyone’s— I don’t know what’s going on.”

Chapter 29: Morning

Morning comes, slowly, with Nick’s back pressed against the wood of the cabin door – his body a blockade of both sides. Charlie wakes him with a cup of water from the flagon on his dresser and he sips it gratefully.

“It’s quiet outside,” Charlie whispers, watching Nick carefully. “Whatever— I think it’s passed.”

Nick can’t put a name to the strange events of the night, either. He hauls himself to his feet, back screaming at him. When he opens the door, it creaks loudly.

Out on the deck, crewmembers are wandering, dazed but unharmed. Nick steps out, Charlie close by.

Chapter 30: Curse

“Captain…” Nick approaches the man with trepidation. He’s staring out across the sea, arms folded tightly across his chest. “What happened?”

The captain looks at him vaguely, nodding to Charlie behind him before turning back to the sea.

“I can’t be sure,” he says quietly. “Not until nightfall and we see the stars.”

“Sure of what?”

“We’re off course. These waters are too warm – they aren’t on any map. Not any map we possess, in any case.”

He looks at Charlie again.

“Are we cursed?” he breathes. “Are my men doomed?”

Charlie says nothing, but he tenses at the words.

Chapter 31: Husk

The crew watch them with suspicion. Charlie as the omen and Nick as his favoured pet, it seems. Nick glares at the men as they walk past on the deck, while Charlie shakes his head.

“I’m not cursed,” he says quietly. Nick glances up at him from where he’s stretching his legs out on the planks.

“I know that.”

“Just checking.”

There’s silence, broken only by the grunts of men as they work and the scrape of Charlie’s quill across paper.

Then, a gasp.

“Nick, look!”

When he heaves himself to his feet, Nick follows Charlie’s gaze with his own.

Chapter 32: Loom

Notes:

Two chapters today because life got in the way of me posting yesterday! If this one makes no sense… you may have missed one!

The fleet has been destroyed for a while, that much is clear. The skeletal husks of the ships bob quietly in the waves and there are no bodies in the water. Not even the bloated corpses of dead men.

There’s just stillness and the sound of birds calling.

The crew seem to have forgotten their grudge as they gather round the bulwark. The fog has cleared completely now, the clear sky revealing an island looming in the distance.

To get there, they need to steer through the graveyard of ships that have been left like a warning near the shore.

Chapter 33: Rescue

They’re heading to the island. It’s decided fairly quickly. If there’s a crew to be rescued, then the captain wants to be the one to do it.

The tattered flags that are whipping in the wind mark the ships as allies, and rich ones at that. There will be rewards for the safe return of any men left alive, they’re sure of it, and the crew buzzes with unconcealed excitement.

Charlie stands silently next to Nick as the men dart around fetching supplies and yelling. 

He stiffens, painfully.

“This isn’t a rescue,” he whispers to no one. “It’s a trap.”

Chapter 34: Row

The scouting party moves slowly through the water, their oars slapping the waves as the men grunt and heave their way across towards the shore. Nick’s muscles burn with the effort of it, while Charlie watches him carefully – his notebook held in his lap. What good it will do, Nick can’t decide, but the captain insisted that Charlie come – notes and all.

“What are we going to find here, Char?” Nick whispers as they bob on the waves. Charlie’s eyes widen.

“I don’t know,” he says softly. “I just don’t think it’s going to be good.”

The men continue rowing.

Chapter 35: Shore

Notes:

Another double update day because going back to work has exhausted me after summer.

Nick’s boots sink into the soft sand as they drag their rowboat up the beach. Charlie carries their pack while the rest of the men lug the hefty wooden vessel through tumbling sand until they can dump it at a safe distance from the waves. They’ll have to get back here before the tide rises, but Charlie estimates that they’ll have a few hours before that happens.

There’s no sign of life on the shoreline; no burnt-out fires or footprints in the sand other than the ones their crew have left. Nick keeps Charlie close.

Behind them, a twig snaps.

Chapter 36: Survivor

Nothing happens, for a moment. Then someone steps out from the greenery. He’s thin, his beard scraggly and his clothes ragged. When he speaks, Nick doesn’t recognise the words, but he feels Charlie leaning closer to hear. 

“One of the crew,” Charlie whispers eventually. “I think he’s been here a while.”

The man carries on shouting at us from the edge of the beach – eyes wide and fists clenched. Charlie takes a step back.

“I think—” he starts, before he’s cut off. He whips round just in time to see a knife at his throat, before the world goes black.

Chapter 37: Gagged

Notes:

Fixed a typo in the last chapter where I randomly switched to first person 🤣 this is what I get for writing five things at once.

Nick tugs at the fabric that’s been thrust over his head – thick, itchy and smelling of damp and seawater. The stench is choking, and he claws at it for air.

The man holding him might’ve been strong, once, but his time on the island has weakened him. He yelps as Nick slams his head back, colliding with the man’s face, before he yanks the fabric free from his face.

Charlie is a little way along the beach, similarly gagged, and being dragged away by the lost crew. Nick grabs a knife from his own attacker's hand and launches himself forward.

Chapter 38: Feral

Nothing matters, when Nick reaches the group. Not the screams, or the way their flesh resists the blade of the knife in his hand as he flails wildly.

Nothing matters, except getting Charlie back.

He’s grasping at the hood over his head and the rope around his throat. One of the men tugs it tighter as they try to drag him away quicker, and Nick hears Charlie’s strangled gasp. The sound rips at Nick’s heart.

Something warm and wet splashes his face. Another man screams wildly. Nick’s slashing at the rope around Charlie's neck when he feels someone grab him.

Chapter 39: Run

This time, it’s Charlie who grabs the knife. Nick is knocked down against the sand – his throat suddenly full of grit and salt – while Charlie grapples above him. 

Then, a heavy body hits the ground next to Nick and he feels Charlie’s hands tugging him up.

“Nick, come on. We’ve got to go.”

The rest of the crew are nowhere to be seen. Their rowboat bobs in the surf, untouched, but there isn’t time to see if anyone else has survived. Nick takes Charlie’s outstretched hand and lets himself be dragged up the beach and towards the thick, green jungle.

Chapter 40: Flee

Branches whip against Nick’s face, but he doesn’t drop Charlie’s hand. His skin stings – blood trickling down so his lips taste of metal – but they press on. They’re directionless. The only way Nick knows to go is away.

Charlie is fast, though. Faster than Nick expected. It’s a struggle to keep up with him, but he knows Charlie won’t leave.

They’re being chased. Nick can hear the pounding of boots and the shouts of the men in a language he doesn’t understand. Charlie will be able to translate for him, if they manage to escape. 

For now, they just run.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of 100 Chapter fics