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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Arriving on the Iron Islands with dread hiding deep in every bone of her body was hardly what she'd imagined during her chase for Yara. In Deema's head, it had been perfect. She hadn't confessed quite as much, Yara had been happy to see her and they'd arrive to talk things out. It was naïve, she realized now. Silly to think Yara would do that. She'd avoided everything when it came to any sort of feeling, pushing it away or covering them with anger. Sometimes that was the only thing that made sense.
Deema wished she could be angry. She should be, she supposed. Angry at Yara's reaction, at how she'd acted, at herself. She wasn't though, instead she just felt heavy. She wanted answers and certainty. Disappointment was the only certainty she had.
Still, as much as she did not want to and did at the same time, she was ready. Maybe being turned down would be a good thing, and she'd forget all about the Greyjoy.
With just a list, she stood on deck, watching as the anchor sank to the bottom of the sea and boats were loosened. She motioned with her head for Rich to come to her, pulling him away from his task of fastening the sails. "Make sure we have these things when we leave again," she said, handing him the list. "Shouldn't be hard to find. Devide the tasks, you know where to find the money. Have some fun while we're here."
"When do we leave again?" He tucked the parchment in his pocket. Deema looked back at the Islands, sighing. Another uncertainty. It was all up to Yara, and she hated it. "I'm not sure, I'll let someone know."
Rich nodded, looking unsure for a moment, as if he wanted to say something else, instead choosing to walk away and continue his work as Deema's eyes remained on the biggest building. She should be going, there was no point in avoiding it. If she went now or in two days, the dread would only grow bigger and bigger, and she would feel smaller and smaller. So as the next boat left for the shore, Deema could be found on it.
When she arrived on Pyke, staring up the tall walls for a moment, she wondered if it was a mistake. A part of her didn't believe in a good ending of this, a part of her wished she'd never said anything, had ignored the Greyjoy ship the first time around. Perhaps then, she'd be in Essos, sipping rich wine and picking a new ship, the last reminder of Yara gone.
But that was dumb, because Yara seemed to be everywhere. Behind any steering wheel, she could almost see the woman with her grin, over each map she could see her hanging with a puzzled but determined expression on her face. Each time she went to bed, she could see Yara in the corner of the room, looking at her. It was stupid and she hated it, but that's what she wanted, and even though it was a slim chance Yara would want the same, she would never forgive herself if she walked away.
So she entered the castle, because Deema liked to think of herself as brave, and gods did she need to be brave for this.
It was weird to be back, to walk between the cold walls, the silence loud as ever. She remembered her way through the corridors, still knew which ones to avoid because, at this hour, maids would be swiping through with full hands and bows and hello's Deema never cared for.
