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Here Be Dragons [ Forsaken Dreamer and Terucin ]

Terucin

Planetoid
Joined
Mar 18, 2015
A brisk wind blew across the ocean, causing clothing and sails alike to snap and wave occasionally. The skies had cleared and the waters had calmed since the storm yesterday, which had been a violent one indeed. Crewmen scurried to and fro as they made minor repairs to what they could now that the sun had risen and they had light by which to work with. The ship had managed to only sustain minor damage, except for one mast, so the captain had altered their course to make landfall soon.

The captain in question stood at the helm, casting his gaze over the crew as they worked, and also over his ship. He had fought hard and killed to get this ship, and had fought hard since to keep it. Over his young life, the captain had owned several fine vessels, some grander and others shabbier, but none had felt quite as right to him as this one, his pride and joy. He grimaced in displeasure at the broken mast, berating himself for having not repaired it properly last time. It had broken in a previous storm, and he had thought that he made a suitable replacement. However, it had still fallen under the force of the last storm. He would be sure to not make the same mistake again.

A crewman ran up just then and opened his mouth before clamping it shut with an audible click of his teeth. Snapping a belated salute, the crewman opened his mouth once again.

"Captain Al'Verth, thar be wreckage ahead, off the port-side bow!"

Captain Sverdar AL'Verth turned slightly to directly face the man who stood a few feet away, who was nearly trembling in an attempt to stand up straight as could be. Sverdar resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the man's choice of words. Did it do them any good to prove the stereotype of how pirates spoke? He didn't know, but many of the crew stubbornly held to the speech style and viewed themselves as proper pirates indeed.

Sverdar himself considered himself a pirate by trade, rather than by nature. He had been born to a widowed mother and a father he never knew. His old man had managed to get himself blown away during a raiding party against a rival village just before Sverdar was born. He had received more of his traits traits from his mother, however. He didn't have the blonde hair or barrel-chested frame of his father, and instead was lean of body and long of limb. His hair was black as night, and his skin tanned like his mother's people. He had grown his hair out and kept it tied back in a ponytail and kept his facial hair to a well-trimmed goatee. On one hip he carried a sword, and on the other hung two pistols.

He wore close-fitting clothing that had been made so that it didn't restrict his movement despite fitting close to his body. He kept to dark colors, his shirt being a dark grey while his pants were black. His boots were leather and he kept them regularly brushed and shined, as well taken care of as could be. It was a neverending task, cleaning his boots, but one he took pride in. At times like these where it wouldn't be a hindrance, Sverdar wore a trenchcoat where the only vestiges of color could be found. The coat was black while the hems of the coat were lined with gold scrollwork. With the warmer weather about, Sev wore the coat open, the wind occasionally picking and snapping the material.

"Am I to take it that the wreckage is fresh, then?" Sverdar asked, trying to keep his boredom from seeping over into his voice. He also made sure to hide any contempt he felt for the crew around him; many of them didn't consider him a very fit captain as he gained control only by killing the last captain. He wasn't going to win any popularity awards, that was for sure.

Nodding quickly, the crewman almost looked comical with only one ear that seemed too large for his head; the other had been blown off by grapeshot in a scuffle a few weeks back. "Yes, sir, er, captain I mean," the man replied uncertainly.

Sverdar nodded and glanced at the helmsman. "If you would be so kind as to guide us towards the wreckage?" Sverdar asked calmly. "Maybe we can salvage something of value from the disaster of the storm last night." Hardly waiting for the nod from the helmsman, Sverdar strode across the deck to stand at the very front of the ship, the bow. Ahead he could see something in the water, and it wouldn't be long before his ship came aside the wreckage. This wasn't the life he had envisioned just a few years ago, but maybe his fortunes would change soon.
 
Tessa and the ocean had never shared a particularly close bond. Or rather, Tessa and water. In childhood the girl had nearly lost her life to the river just outside her village when she had fallen into a fast-running river swollen from recent rains. She had survived the encounter thanks to a passing fisherman and his son, but there was never much love lost between her and large bodies of water since.

Of course, sometimes taking to the ocean was inevitable at times, and she had grown out of the irrational fear of the ocean from her childhood and replaced it instead with a vague unease. Upon turning nineteen Tessa had been offered a place among the students of a fairly well-known academy, but an ocean lay between her and her goal. She had wasted no time in securing passage on a ship set to embark on a month-long journey to a port city relatively close to the academy. There would be a stop along one of her country's other port cities on the way to pick up a shipment of supplies that were unavailable in this one, then three and a half more weeks would see her safely to her destination.

The first portion of the journey went by with little incident. Tessa remained in the cabin she had been assigned to pass most of the time, emerging for little more than meals and short breaths of fresh air. She did, however, leave the ship for several hours when they had been docked to pick up supplies.

Once Tessa had grown accustomed to the infuriating motions of the ship, she began to emerge more often, even striking up conversations with the three other passengers on the journey, a wedded couple from the pit stop and another girl, this one from a town several leagues from her own. The company even took the edge off her discomfort, and within a week after turning toward the open ocean she had grown comfortable enough to be able to forget her unease for a while.

Nearly two weeks into the journey, she had woken to the sound of shouting and a muffled drumming sound filtering in through the ceiling. She left her cabin, still in the plain white dress she slept in, climbing up onto the main deck - and abruptly retreated back below deck. What had been a perfectly calm evening had turned into one of the most violent storms she had ever seen. The fear she had left behind weeks before returned almost immediately full force as she returned to her cabin, pacing back and forth in the small space as she waited for the storm to pass.

Several minutes later Tessa flinched as a loud crack sounded, followed moments later by a floor-shaking thud. In an instant she had fled the cabin, having decided that she might well be better off braving the rain than listening helplessly to unknown horrors happening on deck. By the time she reached the deck she was very nearly seasick from the movements of the vessel as it listed to one side, then the other. The mast had been claimed by the storm already and now lay along the length of the ship, and what seemed like the entire crew was on deck. The ship leaned to the side again, but this time it was different. A massive wave had pushed up against her side of the ship, certain to flip the entire vessel, and almost before she realized it she had let go of the railing dozens of feet above the water, plunging into the water far below.

She came up above the water again clutching a large piece of what looked like part of the siding of the ship, pulling herself onto the slab of wood that was just large enough to accommodate her. Looking back, she could vaguely see the ship slowly sinking below the surface of the water, the underside of the vessel bobbing back and forth with the waves, already quite a distance away from where it had overturned.

Tessa clung to the driftwood as the minutes passed, and as quickly as the storm had come, it was gone, as was the ship. A light rain still fell, but the waves and sky had calmed.She could still see pieces of driftwood around her and toward where the ship had finally disappeared, but no other survivors as far as she could see. Exhausted, she let her head drop onto one arm, slipping into unconsciousness almost willingly.
 
Sverdar stood impassively, watching the wreckage draw ever closer. Behind him, he could hear his crew running around trying to frantically prepare for salvaging what they could. The procedure itself was simple enough: members of the crew would be lowered in rowboats down the side of the ship. Once lowered, they would jump into the water and begin searching for any valuables or items worthwhile, and placing them into the boats. Once the crew had managed to gather up anything that might be worth something, they could climb back into the boats, and be hoisted up. It was the quickest way to salvage anything, and Sverdar didn't feel like spending longer than needed here.

"Alright men," Sverdar called out, glad for one thing he had inherited from his father: a very loud and resonating voice that could clearly be heard through most noises and distractions. He had a partial accent from his mother, but that came as no surprise as she had raised him. "Let's make this quick and easy. If it looks to be worth something: grab it. If it is heavy and we need to drop weight later, you and the item you loot will be tied together and thrown overboard."

As he spoke, the ship came to stop next to the wreckage, letting the anchor drop to hold them in place. The sails had been furled and now most of the crew stood ready to go overboard. Staying behind would be Sverdar, and enough crew to pull the others up and make small adjustments to the ship should they need to prepare to leave quickly. There had been a number of times where another ship had come along and Sverdar needed to prepare to either sink the ship or get his the hell out of here.

"Oh, and do remember that your pay depends on how much we can manage to plunder. Do try to do a good job, yes? I would hate to have to tell your fellow crew members that they didn't get paid as much because you decided to hide some piece of treasure away for yourself." Sverdar grinned slightly, then gestured quickly to the crew. "Now get going!" he roared, and the crew jumped to it. Sverdar stood at the bow of his ship, arms crossed to overwatch the entire procedure.

Minutes later the sound of pirates thrashing through water and wood could be steadily heard as the ship was torn apart. Sverdar sighed heavily as he watched; it would seem that this ship hadn't been a treasure-laden vessel that would make them all rich. He just hoped to find something to make this all worthwhile.

One of the crew still aboard the ship gave a sharp cry, drawing SVerdar's attention. He turned to see what had caused the sudden cry and saw the culprit immediately. While most of the crew was off the starboard side of the ship, where the wreckage was to be found, it seemed bits of floatsam had drifted away from the main ship. Laid across a plank of the hull, a figure was draped unconsciously. Sverdar briefly considered leaving the person, not wishing t have to feed another mouth, but you never knew who someone might be. He could tell it was female unless some male had decided to grow their hair out and wear a white dress. Daughters of rich families could be ransomed back for handsome amounts, and those who weren't rich could be sold into slavery.

Sverdar called over his quartermaster, the one to be in charge when the captain wasn't around. The large man was one of the few that Sverdar trusted, mainly because he had saved the man from his death. In return, the quartermaster was unwaveringly loyal to Sverdar, something that was invaluable with a crew like theirs.

"Torgun, if you would kindly hold my possessions until I return?" Sverdar asked, taking off his coat, weapons, and shoes. Anything that would weigh him down would make it harder to retrieve the female. Grabbing a rope and tying it around his waist, Sverdar then dove off the ship and into the water. With strong and steady strokes, Sverdar quickly cut through the water and over to the unconscious figure. He reached out and gently brushed the wet hair back from her face, and checked to see if she was still breathing. Glad that she was, Sverdar wrapped one arm around her and swam back to his ship, where he was quickly hauled up.

"Torgun, place the girl in my quarters for now and set a crew member to watch her. I don't want to the others to have free access to an unconscious female who might be worth something." Sverdar stated briefly before returning to watch the salvaging of the wreckage. He would attend to the female later, when he had the time.

Tessa, as the crew didn't know her, was placed into Sverdar's own quarters. The walls were adorned with hand-sketeched images from all ove the world, all places Sverdar had been and decided that he like enough to draw. One wall was lined with counters and drawers, which were bolted to the ship and latched closed so that they didn't open during rough seas. Agsinst another wall was a large African-mahogany desk, a personal favorite of Sverdar's. He had taken it from a rival captain, and took no small pleasure in having it. The desk was littered with papers of various kinds, from maps to numbers and figures for payment, to Sverdar's personal notes on the crew and voyage as they went. From four points on the cieling hung lamps, which would provide light into the cabin during the night. The back wall was composed of windows that ran the top half length of the wall, providing a view out behind the ship. A large bed dominated the center of the wall, where Tessa was placed. The bed was one of the few places that Sev had speant a large amount of money, for both the matteress and pillows were lavish and extremely comfortable. The covers to the bed weren't as impressive, but sevred to keep Sverdar warm on cold nights, or to be thrown aside in a hurry if needed. To the left of the bed was the only break in the windows, where a door stood. It lead to a small blacony at the rear of the ship.

Outside the door to the Captain's Quarters a crewmate was placed, with orders to keep watch over the prisoner and report back as soon as she woke.
 
Tessa woke slowly, one of her eyelids just barely cracking open, followed by the other one. She no longer felt the persistent lapping of the ocean waves, though the slight rocking that accompanied them remained, albeit more subtly than it had been when she had last been conscious. Beside that, she was no longer clinging to her piece of driftwood - rather, she was lying on something vastly more comfortable, her thick dark hair splayed out across the covers beside her. She sat up with a jolt, one hand flying to her head to soothe the painful throbbing of head rush that came immediately after. A brief glance down revealed the lavish bed she had been left on, and once the dizziness following the head rush had gone, she looked back up to more closely inspect the room she had woken in.

She surveyed the room carefully, grey eyes scanning across every object in sight.The cabin was certainly an improvement from the one she had spent the last two weeks in. It was at least four times the size of her own, and decorated far more richly than any room she had seen on the ship she had been traveling on. Surely Tessa had run into an extraordinary measure of luck and been picked up by some rich merchant, or possibly some charitable aristocrat from the nearby maritime country. There were, after all, precious few alternatives, each more unlikely than the last. The decorations lining the room certainly indicated, at the very least, that whoever this vessel belonged to possessed at least some significant measure of fortune.

Tessa pushed the bed covers aside, the hem of her still slightly damp dress swinging softly just below her knees as she turned to peer out the windows the bed was placed against. There seemed to be no one on the balcony that could be seen through the windows, and she had no particular inclination to try the door on the other side of the room. Regardless of who had pulled her from the water, she had no doubt the person responsible would show themselves when they were ready. She began to walk after several moments, crossing the space between the bed and the wall before turning around to begin again as she paced the room, settling into a slow rhythm as she waited.
 
As fate would have it, the crew member that had been assigned to watch over Tessa was the same one who informed Sverdar earlier about the wreckage of her ship. He had been lightly dozing at the door when a faint, but steady, rhythm had woken him from his slumber. Frowning slightly, he stood and stretched, before gently cracking the door open to peer into the cabin. He took in the sight as the young female pacing back and forth repeatedly. He had never been a handsome man, not with ears or the single ear now, like his or the lifestyle he lived. As such, the few women he had ever been around had been ones at the bar, or ones who he had paid to be with him. A female so young and so different was refreshing to the crew member, and he chose to ignore the fact that he had at least ten years on the girl. He pushed the door open wider, and stepped through before closing the door. The captain didn't need to know about this just yet, after all.

Once in the room, the man was slightly taken aback that the girl was nearly the same height as him if not a few inches taller. He was smidge or two average height for most males, not many besides the captain tended to be taller than him. To have a female potentially able to look down at him set him on edge a bit. However, she had a certain beauty to her that drew him in. Her dark hair was longer than most seem to keep it, and he could almost feel the urge to reach out and touch her hair, to pull it. The last part of the thought caught him by surprise, before he shrugged it away, thinking it had been too long since he had been with a female. For now.

"Excuse me, miss," He said, attempting a warm smile. Of course, the look wasn't exactly amazing. His hair was thinning and was unkempt. His skin was weather-beaten and scarred in places from the fights he had been in, and covered in parts by bits of dirt and tar. The man's teeth were at least straight, but yellowed. His clothes were loose, but ill-fit the man, and were stained in places from food or blood, and unevenly patched in others. "I hope that I be not interuptin' you. I be the one who was set to watch over ye, should ye wake and need anythin', as it may be." He unconsciously tried to smooth back his hair with one hand, which didn't do much to help his looks any.

Now, he hadn't come in here with too many thoughts of what to do with this girl, but that had since changed. She was young and had clean skin, alluring features, and he felt himself justified in thinking that as she was running around in just a nightgown like that, she was flirtatious and wouldn't say no to him. No one who would go around dressed like that would be against some fun, after all. She started this, he was just following the hints he saw, such as what she wore, how her hair was loose and in some wild abandon, and how it had been her who woke him. It was only logical, to the crewmember.

"If ye don' mind me askin', how d ye be feeling after your little nap?" The man was attempting to sound kind and welcoming, to let the girl think he meant well and was a friend. He didn't mean her any harm, after all. He took a step toward her, with a smile, in what he thought would be a kind gesture. That's what people always did when calming another, was to get closer to them, right?

~~~~~~~~~~

Sverdar Spat seawater from his mouth as he stood on a rowboat. Having already been soaking wet from saving the girl, he had decided to dive down and see what he could scavenge or find. It also did some small good to see the captain working with the crew, instead of always standing over them and barking orders. His hair was tied back with several ties down its length, and he was quite tired of the taste of salt. He had found a few things, but nothing that seemed of great value or importance just then. heaving a large piece of wood out of the way of the boat, he gave the order to wrap things up and for the crew to start makin their way back to the main ship once they were done searching in their immediate area. Once aboard, there would be still more work as they sorted and identified what had been found and salvaged from the wreckage. It was shaping up to be something of a long day, and Sverdar just hoped that nothing happened to ruin his currently good mood.
 
Tessa paced restlessly, her bare feet beginning to tap a little more loudly against the wooden floor as she moved. Nearly ten minutes had passed since she had woken, and despite her knowledge that she was, in fact safe from the ocean that had claimed the rest of the passengers and crew on her sunken ship, the distinct absence of anyone else or the indication that anyone else was even nearby was distinctly unsettling. Perhaps whoever had put her here had forgotten about her and wouldn't remember her until they returned for the night, or perhaps they simply hadn't had the time to check on her. Neither possible reason was particularly comforting to her.

The girl stopped pacing after another minute had passed, turning her attention instead to the sketches lining the walls. The drawings were skillfully done, and she even recognized one or two of the depictions as some of the more distinct landmarks that were known to be trademarks of her own country. She inspected a sketch the unnamed artist had done of the mountain range her village lay at the foot of a little more closely, scanning every detail of the drawing with the faintest hint of a frown.

No doubt when the ship she had been on failed to arrive at port in the next three weeks at most, word would be sent of the missing vessel, and if she failed to report at the academy she had accepted her offered place at, her place would almost certainly be filled with another. Her hand moved up to grasp at the small wolf's tooth she always wore around her neck, a small keepsake her childhood best friend had given her years ago as a good luck charm. When her fingers closed on nothing but her own skin she glanced down to see the necklace missing.

A quick survey of the bed yielded nothing, as did a brief search of the floor she had covered since recovering consciousness. The small tooth was nowhere to be found. If her fall from the ship's failing had not torn it from her, it had slipped off at some point between waking in the middle of the storm and being recovered from the wreckage and been lost among the waves. More likely than not it was drifting along the seabed by now or resting in some fish's stomach, she decided with a grimace. She returned to her pacing, her feet returning to their rhythm.

Several more minutes passed before she heard a voice from the direction of the door. Tessa spun to face the source of the voice, not having heard the door open or the man standing before her enter. Suddenly she was painfully conscious of the state she was in. She was wearing nothing more than a small dress that hardly counted as proper clothing and didn't count at all as anything she should have been seen in by anyone who wasn't family. Her hair was tousled almost beyond recognition, and she still smelled of salt water.

She glanced over her visitor briefly, taking in everything from missing ear to the grimy clothing. Something didn't quite add up. There was little to no possibility that this could be the man that lived in the cabin she had been placed in, and something about the way he smiled at her made her more than a little uneasy.

"I feel fine." The words came out sounding a good deal more shaken than she would have liked, and Tessa mentally kicked herself for sounding so ridiculously like some helpless child. She moved back as the man took a step forward, tensing instinctively. Her eyes flicked from him to the balcony door, then settled on the door behind him briefly before returning back to him, a hint of wariness in her look.

"If you would be so good as to bring me to your captain, I would be quite grateful." Good, that was a little better. Now she sounded a good deal more confident, as it should be. And, after all, why shouldn't he oblige? If he had been set to watch her until she woke, there must be someone who wanted to see her when she did wake.
 
The man managed to not laugh in the girl’s face as she requested that he go fetch the captain for her. There was no love lost between him and the captain, as the man viewed the younger man with some contempt. After all, you could never trust those type of people. No one trusted them, and the man saw no reason to accept the captain as such. It was just another person who would soon die in the position, and probably by a lower-ranking crewmember.

He attempted to give a sympathetic look to the girl, something he wasn’t used to. He felt a minor pang of protectiveness towards the girl, but it didn’t last long. She was just so tempting right then, when she sounded so uncertain and slightly helpless. What else was he to do except take care of her? Indeed… take care of her.

“I be glad that you are feeling fine. It was worrying when ye were found,” the man lied, trying to sound like he cared about her wellbeing. “However, I be very sorry. The captain be off-board right now, and won’t be returning for a little while. I am here to… take care of you. On the captain’s orders, you see.”

He was betting on the girl not knowing was going on right now in her situation. She couldn’t know that he wasn’t supposed to be there, or that Sverdar was only a shout’s distance from the ship right then. He decided that now was the best time to take his chance, while most of the crew was away, and more importantly: the captain.
 
Tessa eyed the man warily as he continued to talk, his attempts at reassuring her failing spectacularly. She did not much like the news that the captain had left the ship, and she liked the crewman he had supposedly ordered to "take care of her" even less. There was something about the way he spoke and looked that felt decidedly menacing despite the words that she expected he meant to sound comforting. She would have given up very nearly anything for the familiar weight of her necklace.

"I need no taking care of - I should be perfectly fine here until your captain returns," she replied carefully. "Alone," she added on as an afterthought. By now the girl had no illusions about exactly what he meant by "taking care of." If this man was acting on the orders of the captain himself as he had said, she would be no safer out of the reach of this man than she was now. She almost would rather have been left floating in the ocean than brought back from the certainty of death only for this. As she spoke she began to shift slightly, edging slowly along the wall, all the while never taking her eyes off the man standing at the door. Perhaps if she was able to distract him with the feeble attempt at a dismissal she would be able to slip past him and out the door - maybe even take her chances in the ocean if she couldn't get her hands on at least some way of defending herself.
 
The man, noticing the girl's attempts to both make him leave and slip out, decided to end this little charade. He drew a long knife that he kept at his hip* and pointed it at the female.

"What, ye not be wishing to stay?" He asked with a smirk. "Naw, can't have ye leaving, not yet. See, I haven't seen a young slip of a girl like you in a long time, and it's been even longer since having one thrash about between me legs. I couldn't bear the thought of you leaving so soon."

The man advanced forward toward his target, now much more confident now that he had his knife in hand. Now he had control. She would do as he said, as he wished.

"Now I won't hurt you. Not if ye listen to me and don't try nothin' funny. No screaming or trying to run. I don't want to cut ye open, but I will if I have to. Now, why don't we make this nice between us?"

~~~~~~~~~~

Sverdar growled in annoyance as he pulled a length of wood from his shoulder. He had gone back to help a few members with an expensive looking chest, and the wood that was above them had decided to fall. The other two members were unharmed, but Sverdar had been pinned against another plank of wood by his shoulder. Having since been freed, his mood had soured. His shoulder was bleeding, and his favorite shirt had been ruined. He didnt want anything else to go wrong for a while.

*I am so sorry about not mentioning this earlier. Normally I do a much better job of keeping track of what a person has or looks like, I promise!
 
Tessa flinched back at the sight of the blade, the blood draining from her face as she listened to him talk. She might have been brave enough to try to run if he hadn't had the knife. He looked slow enough so that she would have been able to slip past him if she moved fast enough, but she wouldn't take the chance of running directly into his knife instead of out onto the deck. The balcony was no better of an option. From the look and sound of him, he had been a sailor for years. He knew his way around a ship far better than she did, and bringing him out into the confined space of the balcony would have only made it easier for him to get a hold of her - and for her to fall overboard.

She backed away from him as he came forward, her back hitting the wall behind her as her wide eyes scanned the room, searching fruitlessly for an escape route from her situation. Turning her attention back to him, she lifted one of her arms slightly as if it would shield her from either him or the knife in his hand.

"Fine. Just...put the knife down." The words were hardly audible as she pressed back into the wall, the hand resting at her side grabbing at a fistful of her dress. If she could just convince him that she would do as he asked, there was always the chance that she could persuade him to abandon his knife. Then even as close as he was now, she might have at least a better chance at escaping.

((No worries friend! I sometimes forget descriptions too ^_^))
 
The man laughed coarsely, shaking his head slightly. He stepped closer to her, relishing the entire situation. "No, nothin' like that is gonna happen, you see," he replied, shifting his grip on his knife. He knew this was the source of his power right then, what would have her listening to him, to keep her going until she was begging him to continue. It wouldn't be long now. "I'm not that stupid. If I put this down, you might get it in yer head to try somethin' funny. No," he leaned in close to her, his warm breath running across her skin. "I do think I'll be keeping a hold of this for now."

He took a step back and gestured at her with the point of his knife. "Do feel free to continue, however. Things don't have to be bad between us. I can promise you that you'll like this if you keep listening to me. It will be better for both of us." He leered at her, his gaze running over her slim figure, his imagination running wild with what he would soon be seeing. Finally something worthwhile while aboard this accursed trip of theirs. "Or if you prefer, I can help you out of that. We can take it nice and slow, just one piece at a time."

The man was so engrossed in watching the girl and letting his imagination run wild as his arousal grew, that he didn't hear the door open behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sverdar frowned slightly as he made his way towards the door to his cabin. The first thing he noticed was that there was no crewmember here to wait for his return or to report back should the girl wake up. Second, the light pouring in from under his door was partially blocked. He threw his shirt over one shoulder, having removed it earlier once it had become obsolete, and quietly opened his door.

He took the scene in and glanced directly at the girl. He put a finger to his lips, hoping she was smart enough to stay silent. He stepped into the room and drew a pistol from his hip, aiming it directly at the back of the man's head. He threw a small wink at the girl to reassure her, trying to convey that he wasn't going to kill the man. He didn't need her to start freaking out that someone was about to be shot or to show any emotion or reaction just then.

"Excellent idea, Scuttlebutt," Sverdar stated, having heard the man's last words. His tone was dry and light, but there was a dark undercurrent there if one knew what to listen for. Sverdar wasn't as happy or amused with the situation as he appeared. "I suggest we start with your ear, then."

~~~~~~~~~~

The man froze, knowing the voice that spoke. While it was quiet and calm, it also had a way of cutting through any amount of noise, and resonated through the room. Tinged with a slight accent, there was no mistaking it: the captain had returned. The man dropped his knife and turned, freezing when he noticed that there was a pistol only a few inches from his face. He started to speak but closed his mouth with an audible click of his teeth when he saw and heard Sverdar cock the pistol.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sverdar looked directly at the woman, over the man's head. "Now, you see, I am terribly upset, my dear Scuttlebutt. You have made me fall into a distinctly cliche situation, one of which I have no wish to be in just now." Sverdar didn't break his gaze from the girl for a moment before looking down at the man. Noting the man's look of confusion, he heaved a sigh. "Allow me to explain: your name is Scuttlebutt. I am the captain of this ship. The cliche is there is a damsel in distress who was just saved by a shirtless savior." His eyes narrowed slightly and pressed the gun directly against the man's forehead, before returning his gaze to the girl. She was a few years younger than him, he could see that instantly. He wasn't sure how old she was exactly, but he wouldn't put her at more than five years younger than him, at the very most, but probably not quite that much.

It did annoy him that he was a savior just then, returning in the nick of time to save the girl, and without a shirt on. He didn't pretend to imagine himself as a horrible dread pirate or anything, but he also knew himself to be no knight in shining armor. Granted just then he was mainly just wearing his pants and a shirt slung over one shoulder, but the point was still there. He absently wiped water from his face that dripped down from his still-soaking hair.

"Might you have a suggestion of what is to be done with our dear friend here, miss?" Sev asked, the dark undertone lightening partially when he spoke to her. "You certainly look creative enough to come up with some idea, I'm sure."
 
Tessa pressed back even harder into the wall as he moved even closer, her spine grinding against the wall almost as if she would be able to pass through the wood if she tried hard enough. She didn't even try to repress the shudder that ran through her as she felt his foul breath on her face. As unpleasant as the man had seemed when he had been across the room from her, he was twice as unpleasant now, not to mention his offending odor. Instinctively she raised her arms to try to cover at least a little of herself from sight as he looked her over, even if it was only the dress she blocked from view.

She froze entirely at the man's suggestion, though something in the corner of her eye caught her attention - a movement in the direction of the door. All too eager to look away from him, she turned her gaze past the man and to the door, which he didn't seem to mind. Perhaps he took it as just another one of her attempts to search for an escape route. Her eyes landed on the person who had just slipped into the room, staring into his eyes with nothing less than raw, desperate terror. For just a moment she feared he had come to join in, but his movements suggested otherwise. Forcing herself to return her eyes to her attacker, she stared back at him silently, waiting the agonizing several moments it took for the stranger to get closer.

Perhaps under different circumstances she might have found the newcomer's suggestion almost amusing. Now, however, Tessa was still frozen against the wall, her mind racing with the myriad of possibilities of what could have happened had he not come into the room at that very moment. He had something of an air of authority about him, one only the captain of the ship would have, and judging by the tone of his voice, not only had he known nothing of what her attacker had planned to do, but he wasn't pleased with it either.

Once Scuttlebutt had turned to stare down the barrel of the pistol the captain held, Tessa slowly peeled herself off the wall, releasing a breath she hadn't even been aware she had been holding with an audible, shaky sigh. Now that the immediate threat had been removed and she had the space to think she could hear her own heartbeat in her ears, pounding louder and faster than she had ever thought possible. As the captain continued to speak her heartbeat gradually slowed, and she let her hands unclench slowly from where they had been fisted tightly at her sides.

"I..." She started to answer him, her mind racing through an assortment of jumbled thoughts, none of which she could tell apart from the others. "It doesn't matter," she finally managed to say, shaking her head slightly in response to the question. "Do what you will; I only ask that I don't see him again." She hardly cared what he did with the man, so long as he was kept as far from her as possible. She had seen enough of him already, and he had certainly seen more than enough of her. The encounter, short as it had been, had left her drained both emotionally and physically, and as far as she was concerned, what happened to him was of minor importance to her.
 
Sverdar looked at the girl for a few moments, before turning to Scuttlebutt. "Mmm, pity Scuttlebutt. It would appear that you charms did not woo the lady of your affections," once again his tone darkened. "This does mean that I no longer have an obligation to pity you." As he spoke, he stepped forward, forcing the smaller man to step back. Soon Scuttlebutt* was pressed against the wall, not unlike Tessa a few moments ago, with Sverdar's pistol still pressing against his forehead. "You entered by cabin without permission, endangered the well-being of my crew and, worst of all, nearly cost us the only chance we had at making any money from all this!" With a swift motion, Sverdar withdrew his pistol from the man's forehead and fired a single shot at the man. Scuttlebutt collapsed, clutching the side of his head, where his remaining ear had been seconds before; now there were only strips of bloody flesh. "And I've wasted a shot on you. Leave, before I decide to take the cost of fixing all this out of your hide."

Between curses of pain, Scuttlebutt scurried out of the cabin, slamming the door behind him. Sverdar watched with a raised eyebrow, before turning to face the girl. "Captain Sverdar Al'Verth at your service," he said, his tone empty of the dark undercurrents from before. "You are aboard my personal vessel, the Highwind," with this, Sverdar shrugged slightly, wincing as he remembered his shoulder. "You were found in the water, and brought here so that if you were worth anything, you could be ransomed back,"

As he spoke, Sverdar made his way over and around his desk, from which he pulled out a bottle with a dark liquid, and a small glass cup. He uncorked the bottle, pouring the liquid before refitting the cork into the bottle and stowing it away in his desk. He took a small drink before returning to his earlier line of conversation with Tessa.

"If you are found to be of little to no worth or mention, then you will be sold instead to whichever institute or organization is willing to pay the most for you," he paused to eye her for a moment, but with a distinctively different look than the man before him. It was one of appraising and judgment, not one for seeing how nice she looked. "I cannot have you staying on my ship. I am no angel sent here to protect you, and there are plenty others who will try for you again. Unless you can actually handle yourself," with this he gave her a dry look as if to say that he figured she was no hand-to-hand expert. "Then you are a liability and a cost. If you can prove to me that you are meaner and harder than the men on my ship and can hold your own, I might let you stay."

Sverdar drained the last of the liquid before setting the glass down and throwing his shirt onto his bed. He made his way across the room towards the cabinets against the opposite wall, which took him directly past Tessa. His was still bleeding from his shoulder, and had decided to ignore it. It had been stupid to do such, but he needed Scuttlebutt to leave so he didn't show any weakness, and after that he needed the drink for the pain. He had been punctured through his shoulder, so he had to stem the bleeding fast.

"I'm sorry if I sound rough, but I am a pirate. It's in tales all the time that we aren't supposed to be nice people." He crouched down and opened a door to pull out bandages and some cleaning solution. He didn't have a clue in the world of how to stitch close a wound, so he would have to settle on changing his bandages. Often. "Though, I can afford you some proper manners. It's only fitting that I'm not an entire asshole to my first guest," Sverdar stood up, looking down slightly at the woman, surprised to see she wasn't tremendously shorter than he was. "I am pleased to meet you. Might I know your name?" he asked politely, before sinking down to sit, having to lean up against the wooden cabinets behind him for support. He hated cleaning his wounds, as he didn't like how the pain stung longer than it should for everything. Sword cut? Hurt for a while, then only hurt if you touched the wound or moved wrong. Made sense. Get punched in the nose? The pain would fade soon enough, and maybe be tender for a short while later. Clean a wound? Shit would sting when you touched it and for a while afterward, each time it was touched. Made no sense.

((*So fun note here: I made Scuttlebutt up as a joke of a name and did not originally intend for that to be the poor sod's name. However, it seems to have stuck, and now he is known as Scuttlebutt. I love this already))
 
Tessa watched silently as the captain returned his attention to Scuttlebutt, her own eyes remaining fixed on the man until he disappeared out the door. Once he was out of the room and all that remained of him here was several drops of blood on the floor she relaxed somewhat, folding her arms as she looked back at Sverdar.

Quite contrary to what she had expected, her relief quickly fell flat as he informed her of his plans. Exactly what had happened became clear to her fast enough. This was no friendly merchant - rather, she had been picked up by pirates. Which, if the tales told of them were even close to true, was very nearly, if not just as bad as if she had been left afloat in the ocean. He had never planned to save her from anyone - from what he said, the only thing he had been concerned about was that crew member of his damaging her worth, which was already small enough.

She had very little skill or experience with fighting of any kind, and if Scuttlebutt had been any indication of what the rest of the crew were like, she was no more likely to be able to hold her own against any of them as she had been against him. She was less than eager to stay on Sverdar's ship any longer at all, much less for any extended period of time. True, he seemed to have no interest in her in the way he had said his crew would, but he had told her in no uncertain words that he saw her as nothing more than a means to make a little more money, which, to her, was no better.

Tessa backed off a couple steps as he passed by her, keeping a safe distance between herself and the bloodied pirate. Grateful as she was for what he had done a moment ago, she trusted him little more than she had the other man she had met in the time since she had woken up. He looked to have taken quite a blow to the shoulder. Maybe deservedly so. The gash certainly looked deep enough to be causing him a good deal of trouble, and what he had pulled from the cabinet was by no means what he would have needed to tend properly to it. She had learned a fair amount about medicine growing up - not nearly enough to be able to claim to be an expert, but more than enough to give her enough knowledge and experience from stitching up those with small enough cuts to know that trying to bind an open wound, especially one that large, was asking for trouble.

"Tessa Halliwood." She gave him a curt nod along with the name, her expression darkening a little. "But at least do me the courtesy of being as honest with me as you were a few moments ago. I didn't ask to be any guest of yours, but considering I only am in order to make you money, I see no point in you being falsely polite if you have no desire to. Particularly if you follow those tales of yours, and more so if you have as much of a death wish as you seem to." Tessa nodded at his shoulder. "Trying to tie that up without closing it first will leave you with a scar if you're lucky - and maybe infection besides. It's a small wonder so many of the pirates I've heard of die so early, if they all have a knowledge of medicine as lacking as you appear to. You tell me I'm unable to take care of myself, yet you don't even seem to be able to do the same for yourself. I've never needed to be able to fight, but I see no such excuse for you."
 
Sverdar's laugh resonated warmly throughout the room as he looked up at the female. She had a good deal of fight in her, he could see. She might have been terrified moments before, but if he was to guess, she had been attempting to make plans while cornered. He didn't know why this pleased him about her, but it was nice to know that there were people willing to fight against the odds before them. It was something Sev was very familiar with.

"No one has spoken to me like that in a very long while, miss Halliwood," he said in amusement with a faint shrug. "I don't know if it's because I scared them, or they stopped caring." He paused for a moment before continuing. "I would like to clear up a few things first, however. I rarely do something if I do not wish to. In the case of the gallant Sir Scuttlebutt, it was more in my interests to save you than to avoid the cliche I was placed in. So if I am polite to you, that is because I wish to be, that is all. You might be here only to be sold, but I have no desire to be cruel. You're still a person, after all."

He pulled a swab of cotton out of the cabinet behind him as he spoke, wincing slightly at the pain caused by his shoulder, but it didn't stop or slow him any.

"As for the second, you are not wrong: there is no surprise that many of us pirates die so young," He glanced around his room before returning his gaze to the female standing over him. She was intelligent, he could instantly tell that. It was something he had once been used to, years and years ago before he ever set sail. "However, there is one last point I would argue against with you. When I was speaking earlier of taking care of one's self, I was then referring to being able to keep yourself safe from others, to handle yourself around people, and the like. It was a specific example, such as speaking of a certain species of bird. You are referring to taking care of oneself in general terms, such as staying alive, which is a broader and overlapping category, such as speaking about birds as a whole," He sighed and shook his head slightly. Why was it so difficult to keep his thoughts coherent and on-track? It had once been so easy to speak with intelligence. "I would have been speaking about how penguins are unable to fly, while you are arguing that other birds can fly just fine where the penguin can't, and so why would the penguin be counted in talks of birds, when it can't fly? Yes, I don't know a blasted thing about medicine or patching myself up, you're right. However, I can survive through fights, in cities, on the open ocean, on deserted islands, rough seas, and many other locations," he frowned slightly, looking directly ahead as if lost in space. "I'm rambling. Haven't done that in a long while," he looked back up at Tessa. "Sorry, I'm sure someone as learned as you has things she would prefer to be doing besides listening to some pirate as he bleeds out."

Sverdar then dabbed some of the cleaning solution on the end of the cotton swab, before he began to try and clean the wound out so that he could at least bandage the miserable hole.
 
"There are a good deal of things I would prefer to do besides listening to some pirate," she agreed. "Unfortunately, however, none of them are exactly possible from here, so it seems I have little choice but to listen to his excuses and justifications." Tessa lifted her chin a little as she watched him prod at the wound. It didn't surprise her that he was unused to being spoken to in the way she spoke to him. Not, of course, that she had had any problem with how he had handled Scuttlebutt, but she could easily see why there were so few who talked to him in that manner. She hadn't missed the dark undertone in his voice several minutes before, and no doubt serving under him was an experience she wouldn't envy anyone doing. But she had had more than enough of the pirate captain's infuriating insistence on being "polite."

"You tell me the only reason you took it upon yourself to save my life was so you could sell it away again as if I'm nothing more than some commodity to be auctioned off at port, then in the same breath you tell me you think of me as a person. You know just as well as I do exactly what kind of 'organizations' pay the most for people like me and what happens to them so you're either lying or deluding yourself. You can't have it both ways, and I suspect you know that perfectly well." Tessa was well aware of what went on in the large port cities, and sometimes even in the smaller ones near her own village. Traffic would be high, the port would be full of men who had been at sea for weeks, sometimes months at a time, and all of them would be in search of girls to warm their beds for a night before they left for sea again. And more often than not, quite a few of the girls populating the brothels had been traded in exchange for a pouch or two of gold coins.

"I never said you survived in the same way I did. I'm perfectly aware that you're vastly better at protecting yourself in a fight than I am. You can survive as much as you like in those fights of yours, but that means nothing. Maybe you haven't been killed in battle yet, but all you need to do is run into one infection. Then you might not be so confident in your own ability to survive." Tessa bent to pick up the roll of bandages, tapping her finger against it lightly as she inspected it. "That cut of yours needs stitching, and I need safe passage. So either let me fix your arm and leave me at the nearest port to do what I will, or do both of us a favor and drop the pleasantries."
 
"You're awfully stubborn once you've set your mind, aren't you?" Sverdar asked dryly, glancing up at the female. It was interesting to watch her, as she lifted her chin and other small nuances. She was definitely from a different life from his, a softer one, in ways, and harder in others. He idly wondered if it could have been a life he would be able to survive, or if he had been a pirate for too long for such things to be possible anymore. That was the greatest possibility, and he was unsure of how it made him feel just then, so he chose to ignore it for another time.

"Have you ever been sold before, miss?" he asked quietly, dropping his gaze to stare across the room. "I have it on the best authority that it is not a wonderful experience. They degrade you, tear you apart from the inside out, and take away what they think makes you who you are," he paused for a moment before continuing. "Your free will, your ability to speak or think as you want, how and when you act, how you act, how you look, who you are, what you are called by, and so much more. It's no different if one is a slave, a servant, or a prostitute. They all end up the same. In that similarity, however, there is one thing you're overlooking. It's no different than what we filthy and soulless pirates out here face when in the middle of a terrible storm or facing down the point of a sword, having just watched those who you once knew slew around you. It's hope. It's an undying resolve to give up, to let someone else win," he lapsed into silence for a short while. "It's funny because that spark of resistance can seem to be extinguished. A person can be completely devoid of hope or drive to escape. They have accepted their fate with utter certainty and prepared themselves for it, whether it be an execution or another client to whore themselves out for. Yet, if just one thing comes along to kindle that spark, it flares anew. I saw a prisoner once, being lead to her execution. She had steeled herself for what was to come, had given her life away. For just a moment someone gave her hope, then stole it away," he looked up at Tessa at this. "That cry of pain and anguish was far worse than any pain we might feel in our lives, miss Halliwood."

With this, he pushed himself up slightly so he was sitting a bit straighter. "It really doesn't matter in the end. People never really give up. It's what makes us human, at the very core of it all. Perhaps one can be viewed and sold as a commodity, but they are no less a person for it. They might be shit upon, abused, and even killed. But they never stop being a person, whatever the circumstances," he laughed softly. "But then, I suppose it's just me deluding myself again, isn't it? Some pretty fairy tale to make the bad man able to lay his head down at night and sleep, to not feel so bad," Sverdar shook his head slightly in amusement. "No, I suppose that's the ay of the world."

He fell into silence once more before shrugging his shoulder. "Feel free to let me die, then, miss Halliwood. With my arm near useless from this anyways, at least part of the crew is likely to entertain thoughts of a mutiny, at the very least. I'm not certain how well I can manage against them right now, much less if they can convince anyone else. It's the way of the pirates. So, let me die, and hope you live. Save me and hope you live," He returned his gaze to her once more. "I cannot promise that we will make landfall, much less that I will be able to fulfil either my promise or much less your proposal. If you want honesty, then here it is. No sugar coating, no threats," he paused, remembering a thought that occurred to him. "And stop telling me to drop the pleasantries. I can be damn well polite on my own ship if I wish. Especially to the one who controls when I die, for the immediate future. Sure is a kicker, isn't it?" he laughed softly. "My life in the hands of the one I just saved to sell. Oh, if the crew could see this now." He absently wondered why he was talking so much, and realized that his vision wasn't as clear as it should be. The blood loss was getting to him. He had to fix this soon. "Look, make a choice, or I'm going to bandage myself up and limp along until I lose my arm or get shot. I don't have time to sit around and bleed out." He reflexively fell back onto a more gruff demeanor, as it was a habit after so many years. He couldn't remember that it wasn't something that would work on someone like Tessa, someone who already disliked him and was very willful.
 
"I didn't ask you for an in depth description of exactly what it is you've decided to force on me." Tessa had sobered visibly at his small monologue, her hand tightening on the roll of bandages she still held. "Nor did I ask you for anecdotes. Do you really think it matters to anyone just how much 'hope' they have if they already live in hell? Going along with the way of the world is exactly what I tried to do. I despise sailing. All I wanted to do was get this journey over with, then I might never have had to set foot on another one of those death traps you call ships again."

"I'm perfectly aware of the risks involved in sailing. In case you've forgotten already, the only reason I'm here is because the ship I was on was caught in a storm and sank. You seemed sure enough that you would be able to make land when you were telling me all about how you plan to make money off me. Why should it matter to me that I'm a person by definition if what you just said would happen ends up happening? What I am may be a person, but neither you nor whoever is willing to pay you a handful of gold for a body takes that into consideration, no matter how many times you claim to. Dictionary definition is completely irrelevant if someone disregards it. But changing your reason for going to port won't change whether or not you make it there. If you were going to have no problem with it an hour ago when it would make you a little money, you certainly won't have a problem now, particularly if you take care of that cut of yours properly." She released the bandages, tossing the roll at him with perhaps a little more force than she had intended.

"For someone who speaks so much of hope, somehow I doubt you're quite as resigned to your own death as you've been making yourself out to be; you don't want to lose your life any more than I do. If you're so worried about having a mutiny on your hands, you clearly care about staying alive. Your life isn't any more in my hands at the moment than my own is. If you want me to save that arm, all it takes is giving up a few pockets of gold that you never would have seen had I not been on that ship. The ship still would have been hit by the storm, you would still have ripped apart that shoulder of yours, and, most importantly, I wouldn't be here to stitch it up. You have nothing to lose by it, and yet you still insist on taking the route that leaves both of us as good as dead." Tessa was almost tempted to try her hand on his shoulder regardless. It had never been in her nature to ignore an injury, and he looked none too well for all the blood he had lost. Perhaps once his life was more immediately in danger he might reconsider, but at the moment she wasn't particularly willing to give him more control than he already had. She shifted to lean against the wall, fixing him with an impassive stare.

"Forget about it if you like. Bandage yourself up and bleed to death or deal with your mutiny if it happens, and take the chance that you'll end up dead in a week or two. Or let me fix it and leave me in peace. It's up to you."
 
If the situation had been different, Sverdar could have found himself becoming enamored with the willful female. He didn't believe in love at first sight or any of that shit, but he felt that over time, had things gone differently, he could come to like her. Maybe. While it was amusing and refreshing to have someone able to stand up to him and not fear it, it could also become troublesome. Yet, trouble didn't exactly sound like a bad thing, either. He had lived through trouble most his life, and this was the best it had looked before.

Damn he had to do something about that bloody shoulder.

"Aye, death traps, indeed," Sverdar said softly, matching her impassive stare with an apathetic one of his own. "And despite the death, you would rather berate me and throw words in my face," He shook his head slightly, which was a bad idea, as the world swum and spun. "Look, you being left in peace would always have been part all this. I don't own slaves, so you wouldn't have been forced into that on my ship. I don't need a servant, much less one others wouldn't listen to, or one so willful. I wouldn't have locked you up or chained you, not unless you forced me to. So feel free to have a stab at my shoulder. You... have given me much to think about," he said honestly. Blast, if she kept this up, she would have him reconsidering selling her. He had to be careful around her.
 
"Well. It certainly is comforting to know that you would have had some small measure of human decency. Does it really surprise you so much that I am, as you say, throwing words in your face? I can't blame you for a storm, but as of ten minutes ago I can blame you for anything that happens to me on your ship - and for what happens directly after I leave it. What else did you expect me to do? Attack you - perhaps take a stab at your shoulder a little more literally? Try to run? Maybe just let you sell me off like a piece of meat? No, I'm not nearly that stupid."

Tessa stopped for a moment, watching the pirate curiously. The blood loss he had suffered so far was almost definitely beginning to show, and regardless of what she thought of him, she wasn't in a hurry to let him pass out from lack of blood. She had already seen enough of what happened when the captain wasn't around to hand out orders, and the risk just wasn't worth it. The answer he had given her would do for now; she was rapidly running out of patience, and he looked to be nearly ready to drop. At this point she had not only already been rattled enough by her short encounter with the crew but now had been engaged in some sort of debate with him, and though she had been unconscious for what must have been hours, through the night and part of the day at very least, she would have jumped at the chance to sleep. To his credit, he had bent over backwards to keep his argument afloat. Something about him made it easy to exhaust herself trying to argue with him, and it was infuriating, frustrating at the very least.

"Let me see the damn thing, then," she snapped, moving forward to pick up the roll of bandages that now lay on the floor between them. "And tell me where I can find a needle and thread. Preferably before you die of blood loss, if you don't mind. It isn't in my best interests in any possible way for you to end up dead, and you would know a good deal about acting in your own best interests, I suppose." He was clearly running out of time, and there was no possibility he would change his mind if he died. So she would give him what he needed now and continue to 'throw words at him' later.
 
Sverdar chuckled softly, reaching over and tapping a cabinet door with two fingers to designate where Tessa could find a needle and thread. He couldn't tell if it was from the loss of blood or because he had been away from people like Tessa for so long, but he found her endlessly interesting s far, despite the fact that she was hell-bent on arguing with him and attempting to shiver her view of everything on him. He found it oddly alluring that she was so wilful and unwilling to just give up because he might have a good point or argument, instead her argument evolved and moved forward, every fluid and changing so that there was always something else to bring up or point out against him.It should have made him furious or thrown him off or whatever was the natural reaction to opposition, so why was it he found himself patient so far and not bothered by her antics?

"I never said that it surprised me that you were throwing my words in my face, or that it was even unexpected," Sverdar replied quietly as he stared ahead at a random drawing across from him. Anything so that he could try to keep focusing and conscious. "I'm just pointing out that you are doing it. Stupid of me, I'm sure you would say because you are obviously aware of what you are doing. Like you asked of me, what else is to be expected of you in this situation?" he shook his head slightly.

He found one small part that he could be annoyed about, though it was towards himself instead of this girl who had come into his world with such a calamitous crash. He found himself at least partially interested in her by first impressions, of these past few minutes. He had lived now for several years for himself and against others, often having to kill and harm in order to live and forward his lot in life. His hadn't been a happy and warm life, but it also hadn't been the worst possible. But he had been alone for most of his entire life, so shouldn't he be bothered by this girl who was so intrusive in only a few moments? He wasn't, and it annoyed him with himself about her.
 
"You tell me. I know what I'm doing, but you don't seem to quite grasp the fact that I'm not pleased with what you're doing, or why that might be the case." Tessa turned to open the cabinet he had indicated a moment before, reaching inside to come out again, a needle pinched between the fingers of one hand and a small roll of thread grasped in the other. After nudging the cabinet door closed again she moved to sit on her heels at his side with a scowl. "Now sit still, don't move, and do try not to feed me more of that nonsense you clearly think is logic."

She reached over to snatch the cotton swab he still held from him, batting his hand away from his shoulder to give her room to finish cleaning the gash, perhaps pressing down a little harder than necessary. She had taken a dislike to the pirate in the small amount of time she had known him, and that dislike had been battling with some small part of her that remembered what he had done before he had revealed exactly why he had brought her here. Perhaps if she had known nothing of his true purpose she might even have grown to like him. Right at this very moment, however, she was willing to help him, because it served her purpose, and perhaps because he had done the same for her just a little while ago. Still, it didn't quite stop her distaste from showing. Of course, she would do nothing to endanger his life - or his consciousness, for that matter, but that by no means meant she had to be gentle with him.

"Fortunately for you," she said after several moments, tossing the cotton swab aside to land on the floor in front of him, "you've already taken what looks like a rather painful cut. So of course you won't mind a little prick." Armed with a small length of thread, the needle went straight for his shoulder. Tessa pointedly ignored him as she silently worked, pulling the knot on the final stitch tight with a light tug.

"Have a look." She set the needle down beside the cotton swab and retreated from where she had been bent over his shoulder for the last minute or two, settling back on her heels to observe her handiwork. "That is what it should look like before it's bandaged. Less risk for infection, and less risk of opening again."
 
Sverdar chuckled, trying to keep from moving too much despite his body shaking slightly from the laughter. “Oh, I do understand that you are unpleased by my actions, who I am, and what’s going on, and why you are unpleased. It just doesn’t do much to sway me, is all,” he responded before lapsing into silence once more. Part of it was because he didn’t have much left to say, not when he was as uncertain as he was. He didn’t understand what she expected of him.

Anyone claiming to be completely selfless was nothing more than a liar or deluding themselves and others around them. Ask anyone who helped another about why they saved a person or helped or another or did any good deed. Their answers would range from because it was the right thing to do, to they would feel bad for not doing anything, to even that they felt good for helping. It all came back to the person helping, and how they felt about themselves. Save another person? It was the right thing to do because they would feel bad later if they didn’t and felt good for helping and didn’t want others to think badly of them. All about a person feeling good, a supposedly selfish thing to focus on. Any good deed had an undercurrent about the person wanting to feel good, and that they liked feeling good and the feeling that ensued. So why was it that saving a person was seen as a better course of action than trying to gain personal wealth for the exact same person, because it would make someone happy? Sure it was arguable that one course lead to someone not having to harm others, but it was a naïve view to think that the entire world could survive without someone getting hurt in some way or another.

The other part was because Tessa began tending to his wound, and with a deal more force than might strictly be needed. Sverdar didn’t voice any sounds of pain or protest, probably because he would have done much the same had their situations been reversed. He was far from one to resign himself to his fate, so he had no grudge against Tessa for doing just that.

Once she had finished, Sev glanced at his shoulder, examining the handiwork. It was certainly better than he could have ever mentioned and if Tessa was telling the truth it might save his life. He grimaced slightly, before returning his gaze to her. “I owe you for this,” he managed grudgingly, rolling his shoulder slowly and carefully to test it. “I hate to admit it, but no matter how much you might be worth to someone, it wouldn’t mean a thing to me if I was dead,” he stated, resigning himself to the fact that he was in for another tirade or accusation, or if he was lucky just a snarky comment or two.
 
Tessa watched him carefully as he examined what she had done with his shoulder. She had indeed been telling the truth - had he gone much longer without pulling the cut together he might have been lost to blood loss, and if he had bandaged it right there without waiting for her to do so, he may well have been claimed by some infection, which was none too rare in conditions that he seemed to work in. She fixed Sverdar with a glare, almost as if she were daring him to find something wrong with her work. It was leagues ahead of what he would have been able to do without her help, and she suspected he knew it as well as she did. But, perhaps a little to her disappointment, he said nothing of the sort. She almost wished he would find something to complain about of find fault with. It was clear enough that she had at least made some headway in her attempts to convince him to alter his planned course of action, though she would miss no opportunity to continue berating him for the choice he had made that seemed, to her, so barbaric and inhuman.

"You do owe me for this," she agreed. "And I'll be happy to collect in the form of a change of mind and perhaps even an apology, if you can possibly manage it. It won't even cost you any gold, and from what you've told me, money is something you have quite an affection for. But for now, you can stop that. Unless you'd prefer to tear the thread or skip the bandages, of course." She raised a hand to halt the movement of his shoulder, holding it in place for a moment before picking up the roll of bandages from the floor. He had already claimed that he knew how to bandage the wound on his own, but she had already begun work on it. And no doubt she would be able to do it a good deal better than he could, particularly with two fully functioning arms instead of one. There was no reason she should leave the job half finished since she had already made the decision to start it, regardless of how much she might come to regret it later.

"You'll have to explain to me at some point exactly what it is that you find so amusing about toying with someone else's life." Tessa scowled at his shoulder, nudging his arm up several inches to give her room to run the roll of bandages under his arm. "Stay there," she muttered down at the arm, returning to her pointed silence as she buried the wound under layers of bandages. At this point she was more addressing his shoulder than she was him; she found it a good deal easier to speak more civilly when talking to a damaged arm than to the person it belonged to.

"There." She handed him the now smaller roll of bandages, one end of the knot she had tied still connected to the roll, before looking back up at him. "I have nothing to cut that with; you can do it yourself."
 
Sverdar felt as if his head was spinning while the world turned around him, and his vision had begun to take on a greater blurred aspect. He could remember that all these were symptoms of blood loss and the ensuing low blood pressure. He clenched his hand slightly, then opened it slowly. He managed to keep his breathing steady and constant. If Tessa knew as much as she seemed to, she would know what to look for to see how serious of a condition he was in. He had to keep his breathing steady and avoid moving too quickly. He hated to admit it even to himself, but he did owe the girl something for saving his life. He might as well recover quickly so the crew didn't get it into their heads that anything was wrong with him. One of these days, he really needed to find some loyal and trustworthy crewmembers to hire.

The thought caused him to laugh softly, before realizing that Tessa was there still, and had even spoke to him. Great, now he had trouble focusing on what was right in front of him. This was shaping up to be a day of fun after all. Though he had been right about the snarky comments, to no great surprise. It fit with her so far, and was expected from everything that had happened.

"I can promise no amazing feat of words or lengthy piece of work, so I hope you aren't expecting a well-spoken apology," Sev stated dryly, his gaze finally coming to rest on a specific picture instead of just a random one. "However, I apologize for my earlier assumptions and rudeness, especially including the assumed course of action of trying to sell you," It was one of the oldest pictures on his walls, showing signs of age and slight damage from contact with sunlight for periods of time. "I'm not certain of what will become of you now, however, as any port you were planning to sail to will certainly notice what my ship is and those there will try to arrest me. A bit of a predicament, in all honesty," In the confines of the page were drawn the lines and curves of a simple house. There wasn't much to it, just an isolated single-story house with a few trees and a hammock out front. It was rather nondescript and unadorned, which was at odds with the other drawn images on the walls, each of which seemed to be drawn with an excruciating amount of detail and care.

He drew a knife from his boot, a common holding place for such an instrument from Sev's experience. He cut off the bandages, just above the knot, before returning the bandages to the cabinet next to him. "Amusing with toying with another's life?"" he asked softly, looking at Tessa without much of an expression, just some form of distant emotion. "I don't have an answer that will please you or have you accept me anymore. The best I can say is that by this point in life, it might just be a learned behavior." He hadn't expected that sort of request from her, and had never really examined his actions in the same light that she did. "If you're willing to bear putting up with me for a bit longer, to help me stand so I don't injure my shoulder from sheer stupidity, I can always regale you with tales of my misdeeds so that you can dislike me further before this is all over. I'm fairly convinced that you wouldn't want to hear much else, after all."
 
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