It’s like a barren wasteland in here.

:|

‘I am fierce; I am vengeful

I am restless and keen

I’ll swallow you up

I’ll take what I need

I nourish the earth

I may steal from it, too

Your breath and your heart

Your spirit and crew

For I am your life

Your death and your King’

To the true-bearing Sailor

So said the Sea

—

Fenris could not recall from whom he’d first heard the poem. Some insignificant deckhand on a ship hired by the Magisters to cart them from the mainland to Seheron and back, most likely. Life at sea seemed difficult and the Nocen sea was notorious for its warm waters and turbulent storms, but Fenris had always envied those ships and the men on them —able to go where ever the wind carried them, bound not to men or earth, but to sea and sky; for everyone, he’d learned, was bound in some way to something. 

On the ships, Danarius would often allow him to roam about on his own; at the time, Fenris had not the desire to escape. Things were what they were. When the weather was favourable, at night he liked to sit on deck and watch as the sky, like ink, bled into the water at the horizon and sea and sky became one. The stars and the moon reflecting brightly, one a mirror of the other and Fenris could no longer tell, nor did he care, which way was up or which way was down.

The night and the world stretched on forever, vast and infinite and still, and in that moment… 

The feeling was similar to the one he received with each and every slaver’s heart he crushed bare-handed.

Intense.

Freeing.

Sliding gauntlet-less fingers along the gilded cover of the adventure book —he’d discovered it was not, in fact, a romance as Hawke had teased him before— he wondered if reading about it would be the same at all. 

He thought on the poem again and the picture it painted of one of the few places the warrior had found peace. It was adequate. He made a note to ask Isabela if she’d heard it before when the Pirate arrived, and set to finding his deck of cards. 

This time, he thought, Diamondback.

Because at least he had the face for it.

ilikebigboats:

ihateyoualliwasaslave:

Hm.

I’ll be by soon enough.

I will hold you to it.

ilikebigboats:

ihateyoualliwasaslave:

Should I apologise?

Not at all.

Hm.

ilikebigboats:

ihateyoualliwasaslave:

I thought I had.

You are stunningly literal at times.

Should I apologise?

ilikebigboats:

ihateyoualliwasaslave:

You may visit.

All you had to do was ask.

I thought I had.

ilikebigboats:

ihateyoualliwasaslave:

Unless you would prefer to write out each story and send them to me instead.

If I do that then I’m not leaving out the naughty bits.

You may visit.

ilikebigboats:

Are you saying you want me to come visit you?

Unless you would prefer to write out each story and send them to me instead.

(Source: ihateyoualliwasaslave)

ilikebigboats:

I’m so glad you think so.

I refuse to make another five useless trips to Lowtown in case you plan on disappearing again in the near future. Join me when it suits you.

(Source: ihateyoualliwasaslave)

ilikebigboats:

ihateyoualliwasaslave:

A little? 

Just a little.  For flavor. 

Hm. I suppose that shouldn’t be so bad…