Post by trandy on Apr 15, 2023 1:30:42 GMT
Caleb couldn’t get another word in before Alys had closed the door to his face, but her warnings and more importantly, the request for him to come back helped to boost his confidence in his own fucked up plan. He made his way down the hall to the captain’s quarters and knocked on the door three times - loud knocks.
“Sinead?” He called, waiting a few seconds to make sure she wouldn’t answer, before stepping into her room to find her just as he’d expected; in her hammock, completely passed out. Not even Sinead's paranoia could overrun the poppy’s milk Emer had likely given her, but even though he knew she wouldn’t wake up, Caleb was still very careful and quiet when he approached her.
She was beautiful when she was asleep. Perhaps in another life she could’ve been one of the women in beautiful dresses he used to watch in the castle’s gardens, but her skin wasn’t as delicate, with scars and sun marks reminding him of what she was. He could see the compass dangling from her belt, and with his slightly shaky hands he carefully removed it, expecting her eyes to open and catch him red handed at any moment.
If it did, if he was caught by those bright orange eyes, would she sentence him to death then? Or would she humiliate him again, tap his shoulder, tell him ‘well done’ and punish him with a freezing night behind bars?
With what he came for in hand, Caleb walked over to the window that was just big enough for him to crawl his way through and opened it. The cold air was already making him regret removing his coat to release his wings. He folded it and held it tightly to his chest, hopefully providing enough warmth for the journey. It was late, the ship was quiet and dark, too dark for anyone to see him as he dived down, out of the window, flying towards the ice peaks, following the red arrow on the compass.
***
The sun was starting to rise and his fingers were freezing when Caleb finally returned to the Hard Nox. He clung to the wood of the ship, carefully looking through Sinead’s window to make sure she’d still be there, and still asleep.
She hadn’t moved in the slightest. He opened the window and quietly stepped inside, tiptoeing to where the blonde was so he could return the compass, as if it’d never left. His cold fingers tried to attach it back to her belt, a difficult feat when his entire body shook violently, but then she moved; a tiny squirm that was enough to make his heart stop beating for what felt like a full second.
Fuck this, Caleb thought, leaving the compass as it was and flying out the window once again and going back in, this time through a different one that’d take him to his own bedroom. There was a coat of snow covering his hair, eyebrows and his lip had turned an odd shade of purple. He was about to jump in bed and cover himself in blankets, when he remembered it wasn’t empty. Her blonde hair was spread all over his pillow.
“Alys, wake up.” Caleb called, leaning in to shake her shoulder. With the adrenaline finally wearing off he could no longer ignore the ache in his bones, so instead of insisting and shaking her another time he kicked off his boots and curled up beside her, aggressively pulling the sheets while trying to stay at least a couple inches apart from her.
“Sinead?” He called, waiting a few seconds to make sure she wouldn’t answer, before stepping into her room to find her just as he’d expected; in her hammock, completely passed out. Not even Sinead's paranoia could overrun the poppy’s milk Emer had likely given her, but even though he knew she wouldn’t wake up, Caleb was still very careful and quiet when he approached her.
She was beautiful when she was asleep. Perhaps in another life she could’ve been one of the women in beautiful dresses he used to watch in the castle’s gardens, but her skin wasn’t as delicate, with scars and sun marks reminding him of what she was. He could see the compass dangling from her belt, and with his slightly shaky hands he carefully removed it, expecting her eyes to open and catch him red handed at any moment.
If it did, if he was caught by those bright orange eyes, would she sentence him to death then? Or would she humiliate him again, tap his shoulder, tell him ‘well done’ and punish him with a freezing night behind bars?
With what he came for in hand, Caleb walked over to the window that was just big enough for him to crawl his way through and opened it. The cold air was already making him regret removing his coat to release his wings. He folded it and held it tightly to his chest, hopefully providing enough warmth for the journey. It was late, the ship was quiet and dark, too dark for anyone to see him as he dived down, out of the window, flying towards the ice peaks, following the red arrow on the compass.
The last time Caleb had been in that room he’d watched Sliocht pierce a hole through his own throat. The furniture was back in place with a different table set than the one Snot had destroyed and he sat quietly at one of the head seats that hadn't been there previously, hand hovering his pistol while he waited for his host to appear.
The quartermaster of the Hard Nox didn’t know what to expect of the infamous Good Captain, but the moment he stepped in, wearing a shiny turquoise robe Caleb knew he was in the presence of the powerful necromancer. He knew what was hiding under that robe; surgical scars, that could be marks of what had been done to him or what he'd inflicted upon himself. Solomon King smiled at him, hand behind his back while the acolyte in white robe pulled the chair at the far end of the table back for him to sit. He dismissed them with a wave of hand.
“You’re one of Sinead’s.” He said, resting his hands at the edge of the table, wrinkly fingers with long dirty nails enlaced. “Why shouldn’t I just kill you right now?”
“Because I have what you want.” Caleb said, hiding all his apprehension with a guise of confidence. Solomon chuckled.
“And if you're here, I assume I have something you want. Is that correct?" Caleb smirked.
At that moment, the same creature that had accompanied Solomon returned, this time carrying a tray with a tea set. It put a cup in front of their master, pouring hot liquid from the silver teapot before doing the same for Caleb. A drow elf, Caleb noticed, with dark skin and even darker eyes. The fairy looked down at the liquid poured in his cup and his own reflection, waiting for the cultist to leave before saying his piece.
"I know you offered her a deal and she rejected it. I accept it." Silence. Caleb tried to read through the captain's expression but there was nothing, perhaps a hint of amusement.
"I offered a deal to a captain. Are you a captain, Mister-"
"Caleb O'Cain. I'm going to be, and that's why I'm here." Solomon raised his eyebrows, leaning back on his chair. The two stared at each other for a moment, Solomon taking a sip of his tea while Caleb's remained untouched.
"A traitor, I see. You'd stab your own captain's back, why would I trust you?"
"You don't need to trust me. You need a fleet to attack the floating lands, and I need a powerful ally." He took the roll of parchment out of his pocket and put it on the table. "This belongs to you, is that correct?"
Solomon smiled a wicked smile.
"It is. Thank you for returning it."
The quartermaster of the Hard Nox didn’t know what to expect of the infamous Good Captain, but the moment he stepped in, wearing a shiny turquoise robe Caleb knew he was in the presence of the powerful necromancer. He knew what was hiding under that robe; surgical scars, that could be marks of what had been done to him or what he'd inflicted upon himself. Solomon King smiled at him, hand behind his back while the acolyte in white robe pulled the chair at the far end of the table back for him to sit. He dismissed them with a wave of hand.
“You’re one of Sinead’s.” He said, resting his hands at the edge of the table, wrinkly fingers with long dirty nails enlaced. “Why shouldn’t I just kill you right now?”
“Because I have what you want.” Caleb said, hiding all his apprehension with a guise of confidence. Solomon chuckled.
“And if you're here, I assume I have something you want. Is that correct?" Caleb smirked.
At that moment, the same creature that had accompanied Solomon returned, this time carrying a tray with a tea set. It put a cup in front of their master, pouring hot liquid from the silver teapot before doing the same for Caleb. A drow elf, Caleb noticed, with dark skin and even darker eyes. The fairy looked down at the liquid poured in his cup and his own reflection, waiting for the cultist to leave before saying his piece.
"I know you offered her a deal and she rejected it. I accept it." Silence. Caleb tried to read through the captain's expression but there was nothing, perhaps a hint of amusement.
"I offered a deal to a captain. Are you a captain, Mister-"
"Caleb O'Cain. I'm going to be, and that's why I'm here." Solomon raised his eyebrows, leaning back on his chair. The two stared at each other for a moment, Solomon taking a sip of his tea while Caleb's remained untouched.
"A traitor, I see. You'd stab your own captain's back, why would I trust you?"
"You don't need to trust me. You need a fleet to attack the floating lands, and I need a powerful ally." He took the roll of parchment out of his pocket and put it on the table. "This belongs to you, is that correct?"
Solomon smiled a wicked smile.
"It is. Thank you for returning it."
***
The sun was starting to rise and his fingers were freezing when Caleb finally returned to the Hard Nox. He clung to the wood of the ship, carefully looking through Sinead’s window to make sure she’d still be there, and still asleep.
She hadn’t moved in the slightest. He opened the window and quietly stepped inside, tiptoeing to where the blonde was so he could return the compass, as if it’d never left. His cold fingers tried to attach it back to her belt, a difficult feat when his entire body shook violently, but then she moved; a tiny squirm that was enough to make his heart stop beating for what felt like a full second.
Fuck this, Caleb thought, leaving the compass as it was and flying out the window once again and going back in, this time through a different one that’d take him to his own bedroom. There was a coat of snow covering his hair, eyebrows and his lip had turned an odd shade of purple. He was about to jump in bed and cover himself in blankets, when he remembered it wasn’t empty. Her blonde hair was spread all over his pillow.
“Alys, wake up.” Caleb called, leaning in to shake her shoulder. With the adrenaline finally wearing off he could no longer ignore the ache in his bones, so instead of insisting and shaking her another time he kicked off his boots and curled up beside her, aggressively pulling the sheets while trying to stay at least a couple inches apart from her.