The fire in the hearth crackled and popped. Nabi watched as the flames danced over the wooden logs in the hearth, her eyes following the course of the tiny embers that would take flight. They reminded her of fireflies, the small and beautiful motes of light that would bring her a measure of comfort in times of darkness.
"No showin' your face around here. No runnin' off smart to Kugane thinkin' the wrong things. If'n ya don't think of your OWN benefit -- which I'm beginnin' to think is the case -- then think of your loved ones, aye?" Anchor’s earlier words returned her as her eyelids grew heavy. The fatigue that was descending on her was no longer letting her push aside the memories of all the things that had happened since the night before. "And if you STILL find'in inspiration lemme remind ya that YOU decided this. Ya could have gotten away -- and ya chose not to. Damn daft broad."
Her answer had been simple. “I needed to see that you lived.â€
"AND LOOK WHERE THAT GOT YA!†That only made him more vexed. “With the one who's livin! Congrats on ya! There was the THIRD choice where ya took the damn horse ya was gettin' rattled around on and made straight away north--fuck all to this. Sod it all... ya live with your actions now, woman."
Nabi wrapped her arms around her legs as she brought her chin to rest on top of her knees. Anchor was right. She could have taken that horse and just ran from it all. Perhaps the thought might have occurred to her when she watched the Doman on horseback as his head exploded in Anchor’s choking grasp. She had already witnessed so many deaths, Anchor’s sword shearing through flesh, soaking her and everything else around him in blood. But when it was all over, Anchor’s eyes dimmed and rolled backward in its sockets as he collapsed onto the ground in a heap.
She still remembered the halting uneven breaths, his chest laboring to take in air in despite the blood that was rapidly filling it. The thought of running away while he was dying… it never came.
Nabi looked over her shoulder, to the chair where the pirate was now sound asleep. The elixir and the tea that she had made had done its work, easing his pain and slowing his thoughts to allow him to drift to sleep, despite his protests.
She had watched him sleep only twice now, and it was the only time when his face looked at peace. When he was awake, his deep red eyes always seemed to broil with irritation, ready to explode into a fit of rage. She remembered recognizing him when the bag was yanked off her head, standing behind the man who had taken her. A sob choked her breath in that instant, at the thought he too would be part of it all.
But then something changed in his barely controlled expression, and he stepped forward, drawing his sword. Nabi shuddered at the memory of the violence that followed.
She looked to her wrists where abrasions remained from the bindings that she had forcibly pulled her hands through. The glow from the hearth caught the glimmer of the thin circlet of silver and gold that wound around her wrist. A bracelet that her mother gave her years ago… one that she pulled off when she tried to mimic her mother’s art of healing using the earth. It had drained her with the effort but it was enough to stabilize his severe wounds that Anchor did not immediately bleed to death.
Trying to save his life, attending to his injuries, that was what she had focused on to force her emotions to stay at bay. She did her best to keep up the brave facade, clutching onto the positive things: that she was in Shirogane now and not on a pirate ship, that her family was still safe, and that she was not being sold off to some Doman lord. But now that she sat upon the rug in the small abode that was Anchor’s home -- a small apartment enveloped in a scent of wood and musk -- the weight of the day’s events was starting to settle into the pit of her stomach.
Just yesterday she was decorating her clinic for Starlight, and planning a dinner for her loved ones. And now, she was hiding from the world for the sake of her family, and counting on a man who had violently killed so many to keep her safe. He did not want her near, that much was clear. She had promised him as he slept that she would stay to see him recover, see him whole. But once Anchor was fit and able… then what? What would become of her?
Nabi had to believe that Brick sent her letters. To her family to let them know she was safe. And to Tserende and Shael to let them know what had happened. Tserende would search for her, she knew this. She had to believe that they would somehow figure this out. So that she could return home without worrying for anyone’s safety.
She just… wanted to go home.
Her hand rose to rub at her neck, where the memory of the strangling hold of the whip had left fresh bruises. She touched her cheek where the throbbing reminded her of the man that had started it all. She felt her fingers tremble against her face before she realized she was shaking. Hot tears fell from her eyes without warning; the view of the flames blurred before her eyes.
Nabi curled into a tight ball and cried where she sat, her quiet sobs only accompanied by the soft crackling of the fire.
"No showin' your face around here. No runnin' off smart to Kugane thinkin' the wrong things. If'n ya don't think of your OWN benefit -- which I'm beginnin' to think is the case -- then think of your loved ones, aye?" Anchor’s earlier words returned her as her eyelids grew heavy. The fatigue that was descending on her was no longer letting her push aside the memories of all the things that had happened since the night before. "And if you STILL find'in inspiration lemme remind ya that YOU decided this. Ya could have gotten away -- and ya chose not to. Damn daft broad."
Her answer had been simple. “I needed to see that you lived.â€
"AND LOOK WHERE THAT GOT YA!†That only made him more vexed. “With the one who's livin! Congrats on ya! There was the THIRD choice where ya took the damn horse ya was gettin' rattled around on and made straight away north--fuck all to this. Sod it all... ya live with your actions now, woman."
Nabi wrapped her arms around her legs as she brought her chin to rest on top of her knees. Anchor was right. She could have taken that horse and just ran from it all. Perhaps the thought might have occurred to her when she watched the Doman on horseback as his head exploded in Anchor’s choking grasp. She had already witnessed so many deaths, Anchor’s sword shearing through flesh, soaking her and everything else around him in blood. But when it was all over, Anchor’s eyes dimmed and rolled backward in its sockets as he collapsed onto the ground in a heap.
She still remembered the halting uneven breaths, his chest laboring to take in air in despite the blood that was rapidly filling it. The thought of running away while he was dying… it never came.
Nabi looked over her shoulder, to the chair where the pirate was now sound asleep. The elixir and the tea that she had made had done its work, easing his pain and slowing his thoughts to allow him to drift to sleep, despite his protests.
She had watched him sleep only twice now, and it was the only time when his face looked at peace. When he was awake, his deep red eyes always seemed to broil with irritation, ready to explode into a fit of rage. She remembered recognizing him when the bag was yanked off her head, standing behind the man who had taken her. A sob choked her breath in that instant, at the thought he too would be part of it all.
But then something changed in his barely controlled expression, and he stepped forward, drawing his sword. Nabi shuddered at the memory of the violence that followed.
She looked to her wrists where abrasions remained from the bindings that she had forcibly pulled her hands through. The glow from the hearth caught the glimmer of the thin circlet of silver and gold that wound around her wrist. A bracelet that her mother gave her years ago… one that she pulled off when she tried to mimic her mother’s art of healing using the earth. It had drained her with the effort but it was enough to stabilize his severe wounds that Anchor did not immediately bleed to death.
Trying to save his life, attending to his injuries, that was what she had focused on to force her emotions to stay at bay. She did her best to keep up the brave facade, clutching onto the positive things: that she was in Shirogane now and not on a pirate ship, that her family was still safe, and that she was not being sold off to some Doman lord. But now that she sat upon the rug in the small abode that was Anchor’s home -- a small apartment enveloped in a scent of wood and musk -- the weight of the day’s events was starting to settle into the pit of her stomach.
Just yesterday she was decorating her clinic for Starlight, and planning a dinner for her loved ones. And now, she was hiding from the world for the sake of her family, and counting on a man who had violently killed so many to keep her safe. He did not want her near, that much was clear. She had promised him as he slept that she would stay to see him recover, see him whole. But once Anchor was fit and able… then what? What would become of her?
Nabi had to believe that Brick sent her letters. To her family to let them know she was safe. And to Tserende and Shael to let them know what had happened. Tserende would search for her, she knew this. She had to believe that they would somehow figure this out. So that she could return home without worrying for anyone’s safety.
She just… wanted to go home.
Her hand rose to rub at her neck, where the memory of the strangling hold of the whip had left fresh bruises. She touched her cheek where the throbbing reminded her of the man that had started it all. She felt her fingers tremble against her face before she realized she was shaking. Hot tears fell from her eyes without warning; the view of the flames blurred before her eyes.
Nabi curled into a tight ball and cried where she sat, her quiet sobs only accompanied by the soft crackling of the fire.