Chapter Text
Wind blew on their faces as the ship picked up speed, inching closer and closer towards land they could just barely make out. Indeed, the Dread pirate crew’s next stop was the Port of Sequin. Truly, a lovely multicultural melting pot of a portuary city. Chaotic, bustling and lively, it was an important hub for trade (and piracy, of course). The Dread Pirate Roberts had been there once or twice. Any self-respecting, well-travelled pirate had been to Sequin. If not for business, then for pleasure. “Hand me the spyglass, won’t you?” said Buttercup to Westley, leaning over the bow. She had traded her princess dress for more practical clothes long ago. She now donned a loose chemise and cotton trousers.
“Won’t be long, now,” replied Westley, handing her the instrument. Buttercup took the spyglass up to her eye and focused on the distant port. She had never been to Sequin before. Sure, she’d already visited plenty of ports with the crew, but not this particular one. Each new destination was a new adventure, and she couldn’t wait for the next one. It had been two summers now since they escaped Florin and King Humperdinck’s army. They were forced to live on the downlow as his search for them never ceased. All of them, Buttercup, Westley, Inigo, and Fezzik, were wanted dead or alive. They had considered changing their identities, but the only problem was Fezzik. He couldn’t change his height. Nor the way he looked. Nor the way he spoke. His very presence was a dead giveaway. Inigo had taken on the Dread Pirate Roberts name, but it could only do so much. Fortunately, he and other skilled swordsmen on their crew could fend off whatever mercenary wanted their bounty. Luckily, they were mostly left alone. The Dread Pirate Roberts was a force to be reckoned with: this was very well known across the seas. Moreover, rumours of what transpired in the Florin castle spread through the lands. Apparently, King Humperdinck only wanted to marry Buttercup to kill her. Apparently, he only wanted the throne to start wars. Apparently, he was a bloodthirsty monster who secretly ate children. Nobody was quite certain about any of these rumours, but it certainly lost the people’s favour for him. The crew had even become somewhat of a local legend.
“Didn’t you hear? That hero, Westley, died and came back to life to save his lover!”
“When the castle was stormed, the Dread Pirate Roberts himself was there, and he was on fire! My brother’s friend’s sister’s husband saw it for himself!”
“And King Humperdinck almost lost his nose and ears and feet!”
Alas, no matter how much the general population side-eyed him, Humperdinck had been crowned king as his senile father passed away. This meant that he had total control over Florin’s army. And so, the Dread Pirate Roberts’ ship could never stay in the same place for too long. No matter how long they stalled, no matter how much the locals wanted to protect them, Florin’s army would always find a way to them. Such is the way they have been living. Always on the run, always a fleeting presence. “Looks like Sequin’s getting rather… close,” said Inigo to Fezzik, stressing the last word. He readjusted his tricorn hat. Fezzik furrowed his eyebrows in search of a rhyme.
“I think it’s a nice port we… chose!” he replied.
“What will we encounter, in this new adventure?”
“Maybe some secret place… we will enter,” Fezzik said, proud of himself.
The ship docked with a great creaking noise. The crew dropped the anchor and went at ease, all chatting or making their way into the port. Buttercup dragged Westley into the busy port, all giggles and excitement. Inigo reappeared from the captain’s quarters, having changed from his captain outfit to a more comfortable, casual set of clothes. He looked at Fezzik and motioned for him to come along, then walked over the gangway onto the port. It groaned in distress under Fezzik’s weight as he followed. Buttercup and Westley were long gone into the crowds, now. Inigo put his hands over his hips. “Well, I hear Sequin’s wine is an absolute delicacy. Would be a shame if we never had a taste,” he nudged Fezzik. This was his way of saying “Let’s hit the taverns and get drunk! Immediately!” Fezzik was about to open his mouth and mention how early it still was, but the cool evening air had made him realize the day was already almost over. He mumbled “Fine,” then followed his friend into the town.
Colourful stalls and shops decorated the alleys. Soft warm light twinkled from candle-lit lanterns. The air here felt warmer and more humid than it did in Florin. The local population was out and about, perusing the market after a long day of work. Fezzik and Inigo passed by street vendors selling all sorts of foods. The smell was enticing, and Fezzik had slowed down to take a closer look at some of them. Pumpkin bread, spiced swordfish, smoked eel, and grilled lizards were presented before them.
And of course, there was never a place they went where people didn’t gawk at Fezzik. Wherever he went, people almost stopped dead in their tracks to stare at the giant, jaws agape. A street food vendor couldn’t help but be amazed at his height. When Fezzik tried to buy two fish skewers off them, they said “No, no, two skewers aren't enough for a robust feller like yourself. Take four! Special deal for you, my friend, four for the price of three!” Fezzik didn’t know how to feel about that, so he just accepted the deal. Mostly he was just used to being ridiculed and made fun of. He caught up to Inigo and handed two skewers to him. “You’re right, never a good idea to drink on an empty stomach!” he exclaimed as he bit down on the grilled fish.
They walked on in the market for some time, taking in the smells and the sights. Out of nowhere, Fezzik heard a feminine voice right in front of him: “Alright, take care! I’ll see you— ack!” A lady had bumped into him, her back turned to him. She swiftly turned on her heel and apologized to his chest. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry–” she cut herself short as she realized she was speaking directly to his chest. Her neck craned up to look up at his face, her mouth frozen open. She blushed and stepped away. “I’m so sorry!” she repeated. “I– I wasn’t looking where I was going.” She quickly bent down to pick up the fruits that she dropped from her basket.
She was dressed in skirts Fezzik had never seen in Florin. It did remind him of Turkish dresses, though. Her chemise had puffy sleeves. The golden-brown skin of her shoulders were exposed, and she wore a bandana over her dark, wavy locks. She had jewelry made of pearls and ivory all over, too. Most curiously, she wore a painted black dot in between her eyebrows. And worst of all, she was cute. Fezzik didn’t really know what to say. He was never very suave with women. He had barely ever interacted with Buttercup when they first met (more like when he first kidnapped her), and he still didn’t. Whenever a woman expressed interest towards him, which didn’t happen very often as most would just run away in fear, he’d always fumble his words and find a way to escape the situation. And now, he looked over at Inigo, trying to figure out a way to escape the interaction. “It’s– It’s no trouble. Um, sorry,” he said in his deep, accented voice. He wanted to slap himself in the face. Why’d he apologize too? The woman rose from the ground, her fruits in her basket. Inigo watched the two of them interact in the most awkward of ways. He didn’t miss the way Fezzik’s face flushed red. “Well! I’m off to the tavern, then. You have fun with your new lady friend, Fezzik, ta-ta!” he patted his arm and left so fast Fezzik had no time to react. He could only reach out to him and open his mouth. He cursed him under his breath and looked down again at the young woman. For some reason, she still hadn’t left yet. “My name is Nila! It means ‘moon’ in my language,” she suddenly said with a smile. “What’s your name, outlander?”
“F-Fezzik,” he answered.
“Oh, that’s nice. You have a very peculiar voice,” she said, trying her very best not to point out his obvious stature. She then slapped her forehead. “Oh, dear, I’m so sorry, you must hear this all the time…” she said, biting her lip in embarrassment. He frowned and rubbed his nape. It was, indeed, something he was rather self-conscious about.
“Well… I’m Turkish, but my English teacher was a Frenchman,” he said in his thick french accent.
“Um, I see. How peculiar… W-Well, ah…” Nila stuttered. She looked over towards where Inigo had gone. “I guess your friend really just abandoned you. Do you know your way around here at all?” she tilted her head.
“I– um, no, it’s my first time,” Fezzik said, feeling more and more uncomfortable. He felt the urge to run away. He’d have rather gotten lost than keep talking to her and inevitably blunder and put her off forever. Nila twirled her long hair.
“Then why don’t you join me for supper? I was just about to head home. I don’t live too far,” she offered, pointing towards a small shop across the street. “I– I insist. It should be my responsibility. You’re new around here. I couldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you because you lost your way…” she said. Fezzik’s mind went completely blank. He could only shake his head and muster an “Uh… Um…” He then looked up towards where Inigo left. Then back again at Nila. Then he speed-walked away, leaving her completely dumbfounded. She could only stand there and look at him make his way through the crowd.
“Rhymes, rhymes… Do your rhymes,” Fezzik muttered to himself as he walked. His brow was sweating, his heart pounded against his chest, and without Inigo, he just couldn’t calm down. “Sequin, Pumpkin… Port, fort… Boat, goat…” he ran through his mind. He could barely even tell where he was going. Only after thinking of his twelfth rhyme did he notice a tavern. Having nothing to lose, he went in, looking for Inigo. He was ready to burst through the doors of every tavern if he had to. Luckily enough, through some play of fate, Inigo just happened to be there, sitting at a table drinking with people Fezzik didn’t recognize. He froze at the sight of strangers for a moment, still skittish, but came up to him anyway. There was a beat of silence in the entire tavern as he entered (a usual occurrence for Fezzik). Inigo’s table was engaged in lively discussion, and it came to an abrupt halt as Inigo shouted “Fezzik! You dog, what are you doing here?” He rose up from the table with his arms outreached.
“You abandoned me! You left me all alone!” Fezzik bellowed.
“Now, now, Fezzik, calm down!” said Inigo, standing up and putting his hands on his shoulders. “I only did it for your own good!”
Crude, Fezzik thought.
“You know I get nervous! And you still left me!”
Bee.
“Fezzik, just have a drink, come on,” Inigo said as he shoved a mug into his large hand. “You’re being absolutely ridiculous. Here I was, giving you a perfect opportunity to talk to a pretty lady, undisturbed, and you threw it away like rubbish!”
“I don’t know how to talk to women!” Fezzik said, gulping down the mead in his mug. His nerves were getting to him, and he didn’t mind the liquid courage.
“Well, how will you learn if you never try?” Fezzik was about to open his mouth to keep arguing, but a sudden round of cheers from the other side of the pub interrupted him. Out of instinct, they turned towards the direction of the noise.
“Fezzik… Fezzik, look. It’s a drinking competition,” Inigo said, tapping on the giant’s arm.
“Yeah… Fifteen gold to the winner,” he replied, peering over to look at the sign advertising the competition. Fezzik looked down at Inigo and found he was already eagerly looking at him. “Inigo, it’s only fifteen gold… Is it really worth it?”
“Fifteen gold for free? Sounds like a bargain to me! Come on!” Inigo was already dragging him towards the action. Eyes were on the giant as soon as he approached. He caught the attention of a weathered-looking barmaid. Her eyes went wide at the prospect of having a giant participate in the competition. All the attention that would get… It could pocket her a few extra gold.
“Want in? If you win, the drinks are on the house,” she called out to him.
“I'll win,” said Fezzik with a nonchalant tone.
“Five pints in thirty minutes. It’s not gonna be easy, big guy!”
“I’ll win,” he repeated. Fezzik and Inigo settled at the table. The barmaid waved an hourglass in the air.
“Hear, hear! A challenger wishes to attempt the Rowdy Raven’s beer challenge! Not just any challenger at that, but a real giant, in the flesh! Don’t miss out! Bring your friends and family to watch!” she yelled over the tavern’s ruckus. A small crowd slowly gathered around them, and another barmaid came around and settled five pints of beer on the table. Inigo eyed the beer, then looked up at Fezzik. He said: “I’m almost jealous of you, friend.” The barmaid slammed the hourglass down and proclaimed the challenge had begun. The crowd around them cheered as Fezzik took his first swig. He chugged down the first beer, only for show. Then the second. The pints looked like small cups in his hands. By the third beer, he had begun to take his time. He’d done countless challenges and competitions like this before. People almost always expected him to win, and he always did. It was an easy source of extra cash to Fezzik. By his fourth beer, barely half of the sand had fallen. The crowd gradually grew bigger around their table. Surrounded by empty mugs, Fezzik took the last pint and drank. Patrons around him chanted: “Drink! Drink! Drink!” until he slammed his mug down and raised his arms. The crowd yelled and cheered and cried. The barmaid returned, and took Fezzik’s hand to put in it a sack full of coins. She raised it and declared him the winner for the night.
Inigo, held over by Fezzik, came stumbling out of the tavern after a long, joyous, drink-filled night. Fezzik wasn’t the least perturbed by how much he had drunk. Truth be told, he had an unusually high tolerance when it came to alcohol. He hated this about himself, he wanted to be able to get drunk without busting a hole clear through his pockets. Inigo was mumbling some nonsense that Fezzik just nodded along to. They walked over to the port, getting closer to their ship. Westley happened to be sitting on the dock, watching the waves. The air was cool, and it was quiet. That is, until Inigo yelled out “Westley!” in his slurred voice. Westley looked up to them and made his way over. He took over from Fezzik and chastised Inigo for drinking so much the first night they had arrived at Sequin. Fezzik stayed behind as he brought Inigo back to the ship. “Not coming?” Westley asked, turning back.
“No, no… I’ll walk around some more,” Fezzik said, looking back at the town.
“Not so eager to get back on the ship so soon, eh? I understand. Don’t get lost, old chap,” he said, walking up the gangway with Inigo. Fezzik took a deep breath and looked at the moon. It was brighter than usual. He didn’t let himself be on his own too often, there was always a certain discomfort to it. It reminded him of the time before Vizzini had found him, back when he was nothing but a circus act. In some ways, he was still a circus act. He couldn’t escape it. But when he was with Inigo, and now Buttercup and Westley, he felt a little less like a freak, and a little more like a person.
He walked down stone stairs to reach the beach. He had never seen sand like this before. It was light in colour, almost white, and it glistened like stars under the moon’s shine. He kept his head down as he walked, mesmerized. Wind blew around him and threw his thick, curly hair onto his face. He raised his head and swept it away from his eyes. As he did so, he noticed that he wasn’t as alone as he thought. A small person was standing in the shallows, their skirts bunched up. They were bent over with their arms inside the water. Fezzik immediately froze. This was that woman. The one he had bumped into earlier. The one he ran away from. In the most embarrassing fashion. What was her name? Moon-something? He tried to move backwards in silence, but he stepped over a branch which made an obnoxiously loud snapping sound. Nila looked up and noticed the hard-to-miss giant. “Oh! Well- hello, there! What a coincidence,” she said. “Fezzik, was it?”
“Fezzik, yeah,” he replied. He was still stiff around her. For a moment that felt too long, neither of them said anything.
“Can I ask what you’re up to?” she asked with a sweet smile.
“Y-yes, just… walking,” he stammered.
“Yeah… I get it. It’s quiet. It can get…” she waved her hands next to her head. “Noisy around here.”
Fezzik pointed down to the water where she was standing. “Erm– What’re you doing?” he asked. Nila looked down suddenly, as though she only then remembered she was knee-deep in the water.
“Oh, I’m– I’m gathering glow-grass. I’ve ran out of it at my shop,” she said. She then motioned him to come closer. Fear gripped Fezzik, but he inched towards her despite it. “I’m gonna show you something.” Nila pulled out what appeared to be seaweed from the ocean bed. She flicked it about to get the water off it, and approached Fezzik even closer. She held out the plant and he looked down towards it. She then pressed her thumbnail onto it and pulled it along the plant, making a deep groove on its length. The plant had started to glow a bright blue all along the groove. It was unlike anything Fezzik had ever seen before. Nila dipped her fingertips in the cavity, and they came out glowing too. She handed the glow-grass to him, and told him: “Take a look at it. Squeeze it.” He did as he was told, and was surprised by the bright, glowing liquid seeping out. It was like light in a liquid form. His hands were stained with it. He rubbed his fingertips to feel its thick texture. “It’s an ingredient I use in my potions,” she said. She hesitated reaching her hand towards Fezzik’s. She ultimately dropped it and squeezed her own arms. “Useful for casting light,” she said, looking down. Nila bent over and pulled more glow-grass, flicking the water out of them. She placed them inside a square of fabric within her satchel.
Fezzik was stunned. Did she say potions? Casting light? “Are you… a witch?” he said. If he wasn’t afraid before, he certainly was now.
“Oh, I prefer to call myself a magician, actually. ‘Witch’ feels more… um, malicious. I don’t sell curses or anything like that,” Nila said. “I also read tarot cards,” she smiled. Fezzik was still unsure. The only people he ever met who ‘read tarot cards’ were conmen. Still, he didn’t wish to offend her, so he kept quiet. “You know… if you have nowhere to be, I could read your cards,” she offered as she stepped out of the water. “Free of charge, of course.” Fezzik balked. He considered her offer, turning it over in his head. What did he have to lose? She told him she doesn’t put spells on people. He has nothing to fear. Only… he’d be alone with a pretty lady. Late at night, at that. Nila sensed his hesitation. She was afraid he’d run away again, like last time. She quickly held his stained hand with both of hers and said: “It’ll be fine. Trust me. I won’t bite.” Fezzik gulped and finally nodded. Despite the nighttime, the moonlight revealed his flushed face. Nila couldn’t help but notice and turned away, blushing herself. She undid the knot tying her skirts, letting them fall over her legs, and put her sandals back on. She motioned for Fezzik to follow her.