You Regain Your Senses

With a satisfied sigh, you rise to your feet and stretch, rolling your shoulders to ease the tension. “Glad to be of service,” you say lightly, pulling on your trousers and buckling them.

As you finish dressing, the bosun strides over to you. Her broad frame casts a shadow over the room, her expression unreadable at first. Then, she claps you on the back with a hand that feels like a sledgehammer.

“Thanks for makin’ my nieces women,” she says quietly, her voice rough but sincere.

You raise an eyebrow at the odd turn of phrase but brush it off. “Think nothing of it,” you reply with a shrug, adjusting your belt.

The massive woman lets out a booming laugh that shakes the air. “No, truly. And thanks for not makin’ a fuss when Aura tried to back out. If she hadn’t gone through with it after catchin’ the Captain’s hat, there’s a good chance she’d’ve had her throat slit in the night. It’s a harsh life we lead.”

Your nod is slight but understanding. The weight of her words lingers between you, heavy with unspoken truths.

The bosun gestures toward the door, and you follow her as she escorts you out. “Captain wanted me to bring you back to the brig,” she says, her tone apologetic, though her expression stays firm.

You blink, surprised. “The brig? Why? I thought I’d be staying with her.”

Her lips press into a thin line. “Can’t say much,” she admits, her voice lowering. “Just that you can’t stay with her tonight. And she doesn’t trust the crew not to try and steal a piece o’ you.”

You grunt in acknowledgment, the logic grim but sound. She walks briskly, her heavy boots echoing down the ship’s narrow corridors. You match her pace, feeling the air grow cooler as the brig looms ahead.

When you arrive, she gestures for you to step inside the dim, cramped cell. The iron bars glint faintly in the lantern light, and the faint smell of saltwater clings to the walls. You hesitate, but she gives you a faint shrug, as if to say, Orders are orders.

“Sorry about this,” she mutters as she pulls the cell door shut with a loud clang. She slides the heavy bolt into place with a practiced hand. “It’s for your own good, believe it or not.”

You lean against the cold wall, watching as she adjusts the lantern on her belt. Her eyes meet yours briefly, and for a moment, you catch a flicker of sympathy beneath her gruff exterior.

“Rest up,” she says, her voice softer now. “Tomorrow’ll be another day.”

With that, she turns and strides back down the corridor, the echoes of her footsteps fading into silence.

You close your eyes and let out a slow breath, the quiet settling over you like a blanket. Then, just as you begin to relax, a faint whisper cuts through the darkness.

“Are you awake?”

The voice is soft, hesitant, and unmistakable. Your eyes snap open as you turn toward the sound. “Anna?”

“Aye…” she replies, her voice trembling slightly. A pause stretches between you before she adds, “Do I still count you as an ally?”

“Of course,” you say without hesitation, your voice steady despite the uncertainty swirling in your chest.

She lets out a breath, the relief palpable even in the dim confines of the brig. “Then listen close,” she whispers, her tone growing firm. “I have a plan…”