This is part of an ongoing series - if you find yourself here without reading the previous chapters, you're probably going to want to go back and do that. Don't worry - we'll still be here when you get back :)
Alternative title: What a dick.
Hi all. First all, no sex in this chapter. These next few bits are going to be the sailor's movements on land as he gets his crew, then his ship, and then makes his way back to the Captain. I'll be marking this section, which we can think of as a bit of an intermission, as
Islands
. If you're not interested in seeing the sailor sans the Captain, skip these next few chapters and come back when you no longer see Islands in the description!
That being said, I think we're going to have fun running around and meeting some new characters. So, enjoy :) As always, comments and feedback welcome. Peace, stay safe, etc, much love.
****
How many times had I made this swim? The ocean welcomed me like an old friend, lifting its currents around my body and tapping against my soul like laughter. I let it, my arms pulling the water past my sides as I moved towards the shore, trying to forget that every stroke took me further from the Captain, not letting myself really, truly believe that I was heading home.
The sandbar was more or less where I remembered it, and I planted my feet in the shifting grains and stood, giving my arms a chance to rest. I turned my body back to get one last glimpse of the ship.
It really was a thing of beauty. I could see why the Captain was attached. The white sails were handsome, pressed up against the sky, filled with a breeze that took the Captain away, away, away, and he was the handsome thing, and he was the sky and I was not pressed up against him as I should be, as I belonged, because he was leaving. Because I had told him to go. I closed my eyes against the sight, but the memory was still there and I tried to breathe.
A force hit my leg and I jumped, my eyes snapping open. At the sight of my attacker, I found my breath again in the breeze and began to laugh.
"Syb!" I scooped the child up out of the water. She squealed, clinging to my arm and managing to settle curled up on my shoulder, somehow. I grinned at the precociousness.
I had thought this would be emotional, or maybe awkward. Three years is a long time to be away from your child. But it just felt - good. Right. "Did you miss me, little one?"
"Da, you got
big
!"
I laughed again, the noise squeezed out by her small arms and demanding eyes. "You're the one who grew, my little seal pup! Look at you!" I grabbed her off my body and tried to swing her around, but she just giggled and made her way back to my shoulders.
"And you put mountains on your back," she commented, patting my scars.
"You always told me I'd carry mountains when I died." Syb had told me many things. Syb would tell me many more things in the years to come. I was sure of it. That was one of the things she had told me.
"Yeah, Da. And now you're dead, and now you've got mountains." I smiled at the way she said it.
Of course
, she seemed to say. It always was with her, everything was just
of course
. The pain of my last three years, the shock of it, the twists of fate that had brought me to where I was, to being what I was.
Of course
. "When's the pretty man going to visit?"
"Hm?" The sudden topic change caught me by surprise, my attention on my footing as I slogged our bodies back to shore, trying to remember where the shallowest path was. It, like the sandbar, seemed to be more or less where I had left it. A lot was still the same, even after three years.
"The pretty man on the boat," my daughter was continuing. I made a wrong step that used to be right and almost dunked us. A lot had also changed.
"Ship, Syb," I corrected her.
I knew she was pulling a face without having to see her, and I smiled. "
Ship
, Da, when is he coming to visit?"
I turned my head to watch the ship leave the protection of the cove. "I wanted him to come today, little one. You know it isn't safe."
She thought about that for a minute. "It's important to keep him safe. I'll tell you when you can bring him."
I nodded, used to taking orders from - I suppose she was eight now. Was taking orders from an eight year old stranger than taking them from a five year old? I supposed I would find out. "Do you know when that will be?" I asked wistfully, knowing full well that if she had known she would have told me.
"Uvu says I'm not to prophesize without good reason," she said primly.
Uvu. I couldn't believe she was still using that name for him. "Uncle Val" had been too hard for her to pronounce, and somehow 'Uvu' had come out of it; ah, well, she had a way of making things hers. Same name, I thought, water back up to my chest, tickling at her legs, and she laughed to feel the wetness. Same name, same house, same actions. I wonder how he will be different?
"But," she continued, and I paid careful attention, "it won't be long. Before you marry him."
I smiled, feeling warmth trickle up through my stomach, my head floating up after it to rest on a pleasant haze. So I would marry the Captain.
"But after the next time you do the sex."
I tripped over nothing, surprise making me clumsy, and the infernal child laughed as we dunked into the ocean.
***
The house looked different than I remembered. I stood on the shore, staring at the doorway and trying to decide what to do about it.
"Da, you need to go in," Syb said for the third time.
I gave the place another hard look. "Is it the roof?"
"We haven't changed anything. Just burned the bits that were you, cuz you were dead and stuff. Come on, you need to come see Uvu."
Ah. That was it. My crest was gone from the walls; blankets that should have hung, embroidered with my name, were missing; the post where I had scratched a note was hacked from it's original position.
"Da-
aaaaad
."
I sighed and stepped inside. There was nothing to do; my name had been taken from me by the sea. I should not have been surprised that this would be the physical reaction, that my existence, my past, would be scratched away, but that didn't make it any less strange. Any less unsettling.