The smell of ale swirled around the tavern, carried there by the breath of its occupants. Tales and lies tangled together to create a tapestry of discord that wasn't easily unraveled.

Amidst the stationary men, barmaids scurried about, faces rosy with their efforts and hair lightly tousled. The night was just early enough that men drank without abandon, knowing tomorrow still lay a ways off.

From a table in the back, Isla watched the bustle of the tavern with a clear head and scrutinizing eyes. Beside her, Raif studied the array of sailors, artists, and labors, the only distinction between them was the color of the smudges on their hands. Hawk was at another table, already making friends for the upcoming display.

"How do I go about this?" Raif asked. "Pick one man and challenge him to a fight?"

"No, there is more to it than that."

Raif leaned closer to Isla, waiting. Isla expected a memory to surface, to find herself taken back to when her father was alive. To where he had sat with her, breaking down the logic behind what he had created and how to make the most of it.

But the weight of Raif's gaze kept her locked in the present.

"It is more than picking a single man and challenging him," Isla said. "You need to pick the right man. One that will appear the more likely opponent to win, but one you can defeat. This means a man who is two or three drinks in. Still in control, but without the clear head of sobriety." Raif nodded. "You can not challenge him to a fight, more than you think a man will simply wave off your challenge, knowing he does not need to accept."

"Then I insult him, angering him."

Isla shook her head. "No, insulting a man will bring about his wrath as well as that of his friends. You need to challenge his word, his character. That is when it becomes a stance between only you and him."

Raif took all this in with a thoughtful bob of his head as he surveyed the scene with new eyes. A table across the way was crowded with bearded men all laughing, it was a loud laughter that spoke of too many drinks. They were likely to fall over before they could throw a punch.

"Which man would you choose?" Raif asked.

"Easy, any of them."

This pulled Raif's attention back to her. He frowned in confusion. In answer, Isla waved her hand out across the room full of males which most were a hand taller than her.

"My pick is easy because every one of these men would see me as easy prey and the onlookers would never believe I could win."

Raif laughed disbelieving. "You can't be serious?" This caught Isla by surprise, unsure what he meant. "Truly, not all these men have barnacles for brains." Again Isla was thrown off. Raif gestured to her. "You're as intimidating as a coming storm."

Though she wasn't certain it was a compliment, something stirred in her chest. Something almost close to appreciation.

"They do not see me as you do," she said. "I have not had the pleasure of kidnapping all of them."

Raif laughed again this time with pure amusement.

"Their loss." He took a sip of his drink and eyed the collection for an opponent. "Was acting as a Fighter how you got that scar on your wrist?"

Isla gazed down at the faint white line on her skin. The mark that always brought Jakks to the forefront of her mind. Crossing her arms, hiding the imperfection, she looked out on the noisy tavern.

"No, that was a fight where winning meant more than money."

Raif said nothing, though his silence was heavy with curiosity. After a brief moment, he drowned the rest of his drink and stood, rolling his shoulders. Before he could walk away, Isla laid her hand on his arm, making him pause.

"If you can manage it, don't win until I give you a nod," she said.

Raif bowed. "As you wish."

As he strode off, there was a slight swagger to his steps as if he were trying to hide the fact that he was too many drinks in, even though he had only had one. Isla watched him as he carved a path through the tables.

When he had circled the whole tavern, he eventually stopped at a table only two away from where Isla sat. A crowd of men all weather-worn and muscular sat listening to their companion. Isla leaned forward, picking out the man's voice from the cacophony of the place.

"The Siren had hair as dark as midnight," he said, his tone gruff but infused with the lilting note of a storyteller. "Her eyes were like two black pearls."

He held his hands out in front of his chest. Before Isla could hear the exaggerated details of the Siren's other feminine aspects, Raif clapped a hand on the man's shoulder, cutting off his story.

"You're wrong, my friend," Raif said, his cadence slightly blurring with pretend drunkenness. "I've encountered a sea siren and know for a fact that it has golden hair and sapphire eyes."

When Raif flicked his gaze to Isla the full force of his statement landed. Though she showed no sign that his statement meant anything to her, she felt a faint stir of amusement.

But in her next breath, she snuffed it out.

"I believe you would be too weak to face a real Sea Siren," Raif continued.

The storyteller threw off Raif's hand and stood. "You calling me a liar and a coward?"

The man was a few inches taller than Raif and boarder in the shoulders. For a second, Isla wondered if she was going to have to aid Raif to keep him from being killed. But she remained where she was, hoping he understood what he was doing and hoping they weren't about to lose money.

Raif puffed out his chest with all the vibrato of a pompous drunk.

"I am," Raif said.

The men around the table had fallen silent, waiting to see what their companion would do. The storyteller looked caught between wanting to return to his drink and wanting to knock Raif's head off his shoulders. The decision was made for him when one of his friends spoke.

"Are you going to let him say that, Shep?"

"No, I ain't."

Shep grabbed the front of Raif's shirt and shoved him back. Raif made a show of staggering into a neighboring table, garnering the attention of those men as well. When he righted himself, Shep came out him, swinging for his head. To Isla's surprise, Raif let the blow land, sending him to the ground. Laughing, Raif picked himself up and raised his fists, his grin taunting.

"Still a liar," he said.

Shep roared and charged at Raif who blocked one punch but took another. As the fight took over more space, the conversations of the tavern were dropped, enjoying the entertainment. Like a ghost, Isla rose and drifted through the crowd, making comments to no one but for others to hear.

"I would not put my money on that drunk," she said. The comment making the men at the table before her nod in agreement.

"He looks like a nobleman, everyone knows they can't fight worth a damn."

"Shep will win as easy as breathing."

She moved throughout the place, never staying one place long, her words nudged the men's minds into avenues of easy money. Acting as her shadow, Hawk followed in her wake, laying down bets that were quickly scooped up. Through it all Raif fought with an over-the-top manner, his hits too wild, his reactions to swings too dramatic.

When Isla had made the rounds, she paused at the bar, watching. Even with all the damage, Raif had appeared to have taken, he didn't look much worse for wear. On the opposite side of the room, Hawk caught Isla's eye and nodded. She looked at Raif. As he was dodging a jab, he found her and she gave a single nod. He smiled.

Straightening, he faced his opponent. Shep came at him, but Raif parred the blow and landed a precise hit to the man's jaw, making him blink in surprise. In the second of disorientation, Raif ducked around him, wrapped one arm around the man's neck and kicked the inside of his knee.

Shep stumbled, half kneeling, falling deeper into Raif's hold. Frantic, he clawed at Raif's arms but Raif held on. The light dimmed from Shep's eyes and he went limp. Raif released him and the man slumped onto the floor.

Breathing hard, Raif snatched a glass from a table and swallowed the drink in one gulp.

The tavern was silent, the men unable to comprehend what had just happened. Still carrying the drunk act, Raif saluted the unconscious man and sauntered out. When the door banged shut behind him, the tavern erupted with voices all of them turning to their friends, trying to decipher what they had seen.

In the din, Isla slid the bartender money for the broken chair and slipped out into the night. The air was cooler than the interior but not much, the heat still clinging to the city. When Isla didn't spot Raif right away, she rounded the building and found him leaning against the wall. He touched the side of his head.

"Any serious damage?" she asked.

Raif dropped his hand and leaned his head back against the brick.

"Nothing, I haven't faced before."

"Do you frequently get into fights in taverns?" she asked.

The edge of Raif's lips tugged upwards in a half-smile. "As a friend of mine would say, not as often as I like and more than I should."

Isla tilted her head, apprising him. The sky was awash with stars and the pearly hue of the moon. From around them lanterns beamed in the darkness, the swaying flame casting elongated shadows on the ground. In the light, Isla could make out the scar that ran down the side of his neck.

"Is that were you got your scar from?" she asked.

Raif touched the mentioned scar, his gaze distant with a memory.

"No, that I was given by an eager Baron that believed I had relations with his wife." He crossed his arms. "It wasn't true. I make a point not to get involved with married women, they are too complicated."

Isla regarded him with interest, seeing how he was a complete scoundrel. After tonight and all she knew it seemed to her that he fit better among a ship's crew than among a court of nobles. The door to the tavern opened, pulling Isla away from thinking too much about this nobleman. Hawk appeared and the pair fell in with him.

"You did well," Hawk said.

Raif dipped his head in acknowledgment of the compliment.

"What can I say, the man was wrong," he said, his gaze finding Isla's. "I truly know what a Sea Siren looks like."

**********************************************************************

You need to find yourself a girl, mate.

AHHHHH!!! And he has!! *takes your hands and starts dancing around the room* Oh blessed buckles we have true progress!! *spins too much and falls too the floor dizzy*

Share! Your thoughts! Your exclamations! Your interpretations! Your plantains! You illustrations! You excitementations! Your happinesstations! Your squealizations! (Yes, I know half of those aren't real words but share anyway!) 💭🗯💬🤛

*Tackles Raif and gets shoved off* How are you not excited, Raif!

*He shakes his head at me and walks away*

Whatever! I'll be excited for the both us because I'm just that amazing and odd!! *runs around waving a pirate flag, tires out and slumps to the deck of the ship*

Now that we've all calmed down, I think it's time I addressed a question that I know has never once been on your mind: Joy, you're so quirky, odd, and strange, how have you never dated before?

Well, the answer is quite simple. Besides barely ever leaving my house, at times when I do leave my house to walk my dogs I wear baggy joggers, Ugg boots and a bright red, puffy jacket that makes me look like a walking stop sign. That's how I keep the suitors away. And the imaginary ones I beat away with a stick and my lack of wit!

Pytanie rozdziału (Polish): What is something that surprised you or made you smile this week?

Answer: for the first time I wrote a musical scene (where you write in stage directions, actions and dialogue for a musical number) for one of my mom's musicals and she said it was perfect! That one is a first for me!

Vote for starlight, comment on the shooting star, follow the glinting moon! (Wow, I'm sounding starry-eyed!)