A young woman kissed by the sea finds herself stranded when her ship sinks. Luckily, she has quite a reputation, and luckily, there's another female pirate willing to give her a chance.
{Yara Greyjoy x OC}
I don't own the characters or the plot, t...
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The night had been peaceful, which usually was embraced, for most nights were spent working late hours on her ship or with her father. Now, Yara would do anything to not be alone.
She was still upset with her father, and Deema was nowhere to be found. She'd been working non-stop on the ships for days, and her muscles were too sore to continue into the night. So, it was going to be a night with her thoughts alone.
While she had returned to her ship without Theon, had brushed off the condolences, it affected her more than she led on. She'd had her brother back, only to lose him again. Lose him to a fate worse than death.
Despite trying not to, all she could think about was how that son of a bitch had managed to turn a Greyjoy into little more than an obedient dog. Every thought was worse than the one before, her memory replaying Theon screaming that he couldn't leave and getting them caught.
There wasn't enough damn ale on the island to make her forget what she'd seen, what she'd heard. All she hoped for was that one day, she would be able to close her eyes and not see his face. Not see the way he cowered in the kennel and screamed and got her men killed.
For the third time in just minutes, Yara left her chair once more, pacing through the room. She would have sat back down had it not been for the loud sound of something heavy dropping on the floor. Maybe on the stairs. She waited for a moment, the sound repeating once, twice. She tried to place it, but then it began to drag and came closer.
Curiosity won, and the captain moved to her door, ready to figure out what was inside her home. She'd barely taken three steps when the door swung open, a few candles blowing out by the force of the swing and the wind the figure took with them.
While she didn't look anything like her usual self, she didn't even need to blink twice to know it was Deema. Her blouse was ripped and stained red, her clothes were dripping, as was her hair. "How fucking dare you?" She sounded angry, her eyes were narrowed and her cheeks red, despite the cold she was enduring.
The woman stepped forward, and there it was again, the dragging. She glanced downward, only to see a boulder dangle behind her on a rope. Her wrists were tied, red, and bleeding. She looked like she almost drowned. "You made me like you, trust you," she snapped, the look in her eyes almost scaring Yara. "Just to do this?"
It took a little while before she understood what she was saying. "Right, what did I do?" She tried to remain calm, if only because Deema looked like she'd never be calm again.
Seething, the woman threw her arms forward, showing her bound wrists. "Tried to fucking kill me! You were bad at it, too."
"Tried to kill you?" It was ridiculous. Why would she try to kill her? How would she even do so, when she'd been in her room? "What are you talking about?"
