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“Based on your lattice climbing, I think it’s safe to assume you can make it to the top by yourself, yes?” His hand is warm against my back as I grip the rails.
“Yeah, I’ll make it.”
“Good, I’ll be right after you.”
With a deep breath, I begin my ascent, each rung of the ladder bringing me closer to my new reality. Upon reaching the deck, the sight is nothing short of overwhelming. Pirates of all shapes and sizes, in varying states of revelry, watch as Zephyr steadies me. Their mouths gape as they size me up. The white hair is typically the giveaway, but I’m starting to think they just might not be used to a woman on the ship.
Sebastian steps up behind me. Something changes in their expressions, creating smiles wide enough to reveal teeth and lively eyes. Someone whistles and it breaks the haze. His crew jumps and leaps, rushing forward to offer Sebastian claps on his back and singing his praises. It’s evident that they feared he wouldn’t return, but more so that they don’t just look at him as their leader. The tears that leak down some of their faces tell me they’re more than a crew. They’re his family.
Sebastian takes my hand, guiding me through the crowd. Our intertwined fingers feel oddly comforting amidst the chaos. Someone busts through a door, coming from somewhere below deck. A woman. She shares a striking resemblance to Sebastian, but where his dark hair is made up of loose waves, her’s is in tight coils, bound into a thick braid. A red bandana frames her face like a headband, revealing an oddly shaped ear, like someone has quite literally taken a bite out of it. This must be the sister, so there are differences too. Where he’s tall and muscular, she’s slender and barely over five feet. Where he has green eyes that are bright and stand out against his naturally tan skin, her skin tone is slightly darker and the color of her eyes matches with undertones of amber.
The woman’s teary eyes stare at us. She doesn’t move, even as Sebastian leaves me to close the distance, his arms held out, waiting for a hug. He stops halfway and I catch the tremble in her lower lip as she sprints toward him and barrels into his chest.
“You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?” she seethes, loud enough for the crew to hear. They chuckle in response. “When I said we’d honor him, I didn’t mean for you to enter the bloody gauntlet.”
“I know,” he says, smoothing her hair as he holds her to his chest. “But I’m here, Smee. I’m home.”
She pushes off his chest, meeting his gaze. “And you’re never leaving me again. Where you go, I go, from here on out.”
He hooks a hand behind her head, dragging her closer so he can kiss the top of it. Suddenly, she looks past him and right at me.
“Is this her?” she asks, her gaze unwavering as it travels from my head to my toes.
“Scarlet. Her name is Scarlet and she’s my wife.” His sister pushes away from him and starts toward me. When she gets a couple feet away, she bows, bending at the waist like a man would. In fact, she’s even wearing men’s pants and boots by the look of it. Her shirt is far too revealing and skintight to not be a woman’s top, but it still holds a masculine feel to it.
“It’s lovely to meet you, princess,” she says, standing back up. I can’t pinpoint the emotion in her voice, but I don’t think it’s hostile.
“It’s lovely to meet you too,” I curtsy, realizing I’m still not quite sure what her name is. Smee is what Sebastian called her. Is that her name or an endearment?
Sebastian’s voice cuts through the tension. “Smee, make sure she’s comfortable.” An elf with long blond hair comes up beside him. He’s obnoxiously tall, easily a foot taller than Sebastian, which is saying something. His long legs cross as he props his elbow on Sebastian’s shoulder but immediately removes it the moment a death glare is shot his way. The elf straightens in a snap and folds his hands together in his lap, but Sebastian maintains his glare a moment longer.
“Who’s that?” I ask, and Smee turns, propping a foot out as she crosses her arms over her chest.
“That would be a rat.”
“A rat?” I ask as my face twists. I’ve never heard of rat-shifters and definitely not that are elven decent, too.
“Not literally, he’s just on my shit list. His name is Nelvin.”
“Ah… I see.”
I jolt when Smee’s arm loops around mine, hooking at the elbow. My eyes dart to where her skin touches mine. These people, the pirates, are so informal about the way they greet others. I’ve barely touched anyone beyond my sisters or my father and even then, our physical interactions have been limited. I just met this woman and yet she acts as if we’ve been close our entire lives.
Smee leads me to what would be my quarters, going through the door she came out of. According to her, this is called the companionway and leads to the lower levels of the ship. We travel through a narrow hallway, composed of wooden walls like the hull of the ship until we reach a door with an odd symbol engraved on it. Pushing inside, I find a room that’s cozy and small. It’s private, with a large bed in the center and a wall dedicated to enclosed bookshelves. Glass window panes cover them, likely to keep things from falling off the shelves while at sea. Pictures and artifacts litter the shelves and a handful of books.
“Is this where Sebastian stays?” I can’t see him staying here. Things hold too much of a feminine ring to them, especially in the trinkets and bedding.
“No. He’ll be in the captain’s quarters, but he wanted you to have a space to call your own for the time being. You’re new to all of this and the pirate life can get overwhelming at first. He wanted to make sure you could escape it if you wanted to as you settle in.” Smee adjusts the pillows and smooths the comforter.
“Is this yours?”
“Aye, yours now, though. I’ll be in the next room over with Nelvin until you’re ready to move in with my brother.”
Nelvin and Zephyr appear in the doorway behind us, dragging my chest inside the room and placing it at the foot of the bed before leaving us alone. Smee doesn’t waste a moment, popping the latch on the trunk and craning open the lid.
My fingers slide over the glass plane in front of the books. “You have a good collection.” Eyeing the well-worn spines, I don’t recognize the names.
“We spend many nights at sea. Those stories are the only escape I get most nights.”
