[ danielle galligan, cis woman, thirty-two, she/her ] is that tortugaâs very own FIADH MURRAY ? the STALLHOLDER at THE SHAMBLES has been around the island for EIGHT YEARS, and they remind us of SALTWATER RUNNING THROUGH YOUR VEINS, THE PATTER OF LITTLE FOOTSTEPS, CALLOUSED FINGERS PUSHING A NEEDLE THROUGH FABRIC. people say theyâre WITTY AND GENIAL but weâve heard they can be IMPULSIVE AND GUARDED too. rumour would have it that they have a NEUTRAL view on pirates, but one thingâs for sureâtheyâd better get used to them.
the eldest of several children born to a rather poor family in ireland, fiadh knew from the start that she would have to live for others. at first she felt neither positively nor negatively about it, merely accepting it as an inalienable fact of life. she adored her younger siblings and would - and did - do anything for them, from putting them to bed to braiding hair to verbally eviscerating bullies. she also did what she could to help her mother and father scrape by, doing odd jobs and even selling her shorn hair on a few occasions. as a teenager she began to butt heads with her parents, resentment from being forced into the role of mother at such a young age brimming to the surface. they had never seen her as anymore more than a set of hands to ease their own burden, not to mention a mouth to feed that had best keep itself closed lest it say something regretful. fiadh often learnt that lesson the hard way, and she has the scars to prove it to this day.
knowing that she was bound for either the nunnery or a loveless and potentially dangerous marriage, fiadh decided to take her fate into her own hands. kissing her sleeping siblings goodbye with tears in her eyes, she stole away into the night and boarded a ship bound for god knew where. life at sea did not agree with her, and she gladly stumbled off the ship as soon as it made port in tortuga.
fiadh served at the devil's cask for a few years, finding a makeshift family in the people she met there but aspiring for something different. always handy with a bit of leather and a needle, she began to cobble shoes and eventually set up shop in the shambles. she knew that her little business would never make her a wealthy woman dripping with jewels, but she found more than enough satisfaction in making enough money to go by.
finding herself with child some years back, she carried through with the pregnancy with trepidation. it was love at first sight when she first laid eyes on her child, a daughter she decided to call maeve, and fiadh has been a doting mother ever since.
wanted connections:
maeve's father, please - i am open to anything and everything (hence why that section is so vague), but i crave drama
anyone who is/was at the devil's cask 6-8 years ago
friends - fiadh is friendly and loves to make new friends, particularly with people younger than she is because they remind her of her siblings
fellow parents/guardians of children her daughter plays with
his face was stone, contrasting with fidahâs dramatic playfulness. he knew this was coming and a part of him was grateful for it. he may never tell her as such but she was refreshing. fiadh would fuss, tease, and exaggerate. winston would grumble, deny everything, and pretend to be inconvenienced by it all. it was all part of their routine.Â
he rolled his eyes with all the enthusiasm of a man who'd rolled them many times before, "i donât know what your mates at the devil cask have been saying, but i havenât caused an ounce of trouble. if you've heard anything its slander." perhaps not entirely true. he'd woken up with a banging headache from the night before so... who could say.
as she started to go deeper into the dramatics, he huffed. his hip leaning into her stall as he crossed his arms over his chest," ah don't start with your lessons and so called broken heart, fidahâ he waved her off with a dismissive flick of his hand âwhat was i supposed to do? go bootless? i've got enough scars on me already." his tone remained gruff, but the corner of his mouth betrayed him with a twitch. she'd won that much.
winston shook his head as he reached into his coat and produced a small leather pouch, dropping it between them. "iâm the damn most trustworthy pirate you know" he muttered to himself. before he cleared his throat " it should cover the cost." he placed his chewing stick back in mouth and looked back over the bustle of the shambles. the pouch held more coin than fiadh would ask for. he knew it. but the boots he paid three ports ago went for more than she would normally charge him, and he wasnât going to let that bastard earn more from him than fiadh would. besides, he liked fiadh. the thought was obvious to him it hardly seemed worth saying aloud. good people deserved fair pay. it was as simple as that.
"mm," fiadh said, hands on her hips as she leveled winston with a searching look. "well, so long as ye treat them well enough while you're sober, i s'pose it's all well and good. they're all more than capable of handlin' themselves, so the fact that you're still standin' is as good a sign as any that you're bein' truthful." she tsked, quite enjoying the theatrics winston so loathed. "ah, but am i wrong? a lesson was learnt here, was it not? an' that lesson is that ye should stock up on boots lest ye find yourself somewhere fiadh murray is not." she remained where she was as he tossed the bag onto the table, hands still on her hips. gazing for a long moment at the healthy size of it, she finally returned her attention to him. "i have no doubt," she said in a knowing tone. this was one argument she knew she was incapable of winning - and besides, it was hardly charity; she did damn fine work, after all. with a delicate clearing of her throat, she plucked up the pouch and slid it into her pocket. "i'll even burn the old ones for ye - somethin' tells me it would hardly be worth strippin' em for materials."
despite it being her stall, to say paddy was there for fiadh alone would be a barefaced lie. undeniably, she had wormed her way ( a notoriously easy thing to do ) into his heart and now had firm ownership of a portion... but that was nothing in comparison to the piece maeve had her little hand wrapped around. she might as well have been his. as such, she was his first stop in their corner of the shambles. he dropped into a squat, both hands balled into a fist and held out for her to choose. decision made and celebrated, he handed over her prize ; a small section of fine, deep green ribbon. "maith an cailĂn," a playful ruffle of her hair was followed by a quick kiss to the top of her head before he straightened to direct his attention to fiadh. "some wee girl you have there, fiadh," nearing the stall, paddy placed both elbows upon it and his chin in his linked hands. a laugh escaped at her exaggeration, head angling to hear her better. "well now, that's a problem easily solved. i could chase ye 'round the island, if you like." he too straightened, only to crumple back into a casual lean. "no assistance needed. 'm just after the delightful company of my two favourite savvy sellers."
really, fiadh should have known that it was patrick; her daughter had a sense for the man the same way sailors could predict storms, and she was buzzing with excitement as he approached. she watched the two of them interact with a fond expression, and when maeve held up her spoils to show her mother fiadh smiled but raised an expectant eyebrow. "tapadh leat," maeve dutifully replied, offering patrick a gap-toothed grin. "aye," fiadh agreed, smoothing a gentle hand over the girl's auburn hair. "you know as well as anyone that the sweet little face hides the spitfire she is." when fiadh was younger, her mother had always intoned with a sneer: may ye have a daughter just like ye. it had sounded like a curse, and fiadh had feared such an outcome. yet here they were and maeve was all the best of fiadh, and the worst, and her own little self to boot. when fiadh passed the same sentiment onto her daughter, she would say it like the blessing it was. in the present, she snorted and shook her head at patrick's kind offer. the man had been like a brother to her from the start, and with that love came the usual sibling foolery. "i'll have a think, but 'm leanin' towards not. ye can have a turn chasin' this one around the island," she said, tickling maeve's arms until she laughed and squealed, running back to her dolls. "how do you fare these days?" fiadh asked, hoping her gaze did not seem too appraising.
"I take it you must not ever have a moment of quietness with her. Turning into a statue would not last long if she as spirited as you seem to be." His eye glanced over to the child quickly before back at the shoes. Kaito smirked, "it must have been meant to be then. The pair I have on have seen its last horizon i imagine. The sea and its water has done a number on them so if you havw any that can stand the weather, than I might be in the business of purchasing."
"ye make a good point," fiadh affirmed with a laugh. "but i wouldn't have it any other way." she followed the man's gaze to her daughter, the fond smile remaining on her face as she turned back to him. "have any of your own? i make children's shoes, as well. the wain even has me makin' 'em for her dolls." she beamed at the confirmation that she had a customer, clasping her hands together once more. "i can assure you, sir, my customers sing my praises till their voices go hoarse! been here a good while, have i not? i learned what works through trial and error. i only ask that ye not tell me what you plan to do whilst wearin' 'em," she added in a stage whisper.
winston had been waiting a long while to get back into port. not because he missed the taverns or the crowds but because his damned boots had been trying to cripple him since three ports ago. every day aboard ship had been tolerable enough. solid ground, however had become its own punishment. by the time he reached fidah's stall, every step reminded him of the mistake he'd made buying them.
"afternoon, fiadh." he nodded, taking his chewing stick from his mouth and tipping his hat to her. hardworking, honest, and somehow always wearing a smile, even when surrounded by impatient customers who seemed to believe boots stitched themselves. he respected her. not only that but she had seen him shitfaced more times than he could count while she served at the devils cask. a punishment in itself, well so people said. how shitfaced he truly got..he couldnât say. winston glanced down next to her and saw little maeve. sweet girl. bright eyes and curious enough to stare at him without shame. he briefly wondered if he had nieces or nephews around that age now. the thought didnât linger. "no need to apologise or get up on my account," he said with a weary sigh. "this might take a while, unfortunately."Â
"bought shoes from another cobbler a few ports back but they've fucked my walking." he gruffly said, "been waiting to get back to you, i know your work wont leave me bleeding and groaning." that coming from winston, was about as close to a compliment as most people ever received.
"afternoon, yourself," fiadh greeted with a cheeky grin, mindful to speak a bit louder than she would have otherwise. winston was one of the first people she had met in tortuga as a terrified young woman starting a new life for herself half a world away from everything she had ever known. though the man hardly exuded warmth and companionship, she had found his blunt and straightforward manner strangely appealing, and she considered him a friend; she liked to think he felt the same, but would never dream of pressing the matter. "aye, just as well, 'cause i retract that apology now that i've seen it's you," she intoned, though they both knew that she was in jest. "the winds pushed you back to tortuga at long last, eh? i'm sure you've not caused a mite of trouble since you returned, not a one." she didn't bat an eye at the language winston used - maeve had heard that and worse, and her innocence was still none the worse for wear. "mmm, and have we learnt a lesson here, winston? you've broken my heart by going to another cobbler, i hope you know. and here, i thought you pirates were honest, trustworthy types," she added, aware that she was laying it on quite thick by this point.
one of her favorite pair of shoes she usually walk on during sawbone days has been slowly weakening, it was beyond time to get it repaired and luckily she knew the perfect person to due such a job. "fiadh, hey." nya smiled warmly, waving hello maeve as well. "how've you two been?" it's always nice to see the mother-daughter duo, they needed to meet for some lunch at some point, rather than at sawbone. "i hope you don't mind, i brought my shoes? they need fixing." nya looked down at her purse, already taking out the coin to pay.
"hello to you, good doctor," fiadh greeted, admiration coloring her voice. the physician had always been so good to her, her genuine warmth and kindness seeming to extend beyond the duties of her position. nya had always indulged fiadh's frantic inquiries about maeve's various minor injuries and illnesses, soothing the mother's mind as she quieted the babe's cries. though bedside manner was a quality nya possessed in spades, fiadh was still a bit reluctant to darken her doorstep when it came to her own health. "right as rain, i'd say," she replied, tossing a wink in her daughter's direction before returning her attention to the doctor. "honest, i haven't had an episode in nigh on a fortnight. bit of wheezin' in the mornin', sure, but nothing too concerning, i'd say." she brightened further at hearing the other woman's request, eagerly taking the shoes in question. "ah, your coin is no good here," she insisted, waving her free hand as if banishing the money from her presence. "could you stay and chat a bit while i fix 'em, or must you be off to save lives?"
kaito walked through the stalls, meandering around as he looked to see what caught his attention. it seemed as if every time he came, the stall kept growing with more merchants. the scents of all the foods combined kept catching his attention until he heard a child. it tugged at his heart a little, a reminder that he had yet to see his son. he approached that stall to see what they sold. "you're allowed to sit. whatever it is you're working on must be of some great importance." he murmured. "currently looking but interested."
"ah, but too much sittin' and i'm likely to turn into a statue," fiadh laughed. "bit of a luxury sometimes, with the little one an' all, but she must just have my best interests at heart." she affected a solemn expression and nodded, clasping her hands together. "my good sir, take a moment and breathe it in." she took a deep breath and let it out again. "relish that your quest has at long last come to an end, for you have just found the best shoes in the caribbean - dare i say it, the world. i should hope you are interested, my dear man, for i speak without hyperbole when i say that a good pair of shoes can absolutely change one's life!"
fiadh hummed lightly under her breath as she worked, practically mesmerized by the movement of the needle pushing its way through the fabric and then out the other side. it was a fine day, somewhat cooler - well, less stifling - than usual, and the current bustling population of the markets seemed to reflect the temperate weather. maeve was playing close by, and fiadh could not help but smile at the way her daughter's dolls spoke to one another through her own tiny voice. the toys were simple and practically threadbare by this point, but the little girl's imagination would be more grand than even the most expensive playthings - or so fiadh had always tried to justify to herself. a shadow cast itself upon her stall, and when it remained for longer than a few seconds fiadh set her work down. she rose from her stool and helped herself to a stretch and a comedically exaggerated groan. "ah, you'll hafta forgive me," she intoned, flashing a smile at the newcomer. "been sittin' still too long, haven't i? how can i be of assistance?"
