The Sole Prince

Don't worry; I can take it. [part 1]

A wave climbs up the side of the ship, drenching Sage as it climbs on board. It has the intricate ability of grabbing Sage's hat before receding back into the ocean, thus pulling the black article into the depths of the sea, gone forever. The pirate curses out into the damp air, the rest of the crew around him barely able to hear the swear over the sound of the ocean attacking the ship.

Another wave comes and goes, rocking the boat from bow to stern, yet the captain holds his footing on the wet ground without a single sway. It should be over soon; Sage continues to mutter the phrase to himself under his breath. It should be over soon.

The worst part of the matter is that, at this point, there's nothing else Sage can do but wait. The storm seems to have reached a level of constant torment, after—how long has it been—forty hours. Forty fucking hours of standing on the deck, yelling commands to his crew that've prevented the boat from capsizing, and praying to the Gods of the sea.

And it's only now, after forty fucking hours, that Sage finally lost his hat.

Fantastic.

Thankfully, Eric is walking up from the aft, most likely coming from the triple cabin he shares with Celine and Scotty. The captain had forced him to rest a while ago, which means Eric's now energized and ready to take over.

"Damn, you look tired, Captain," Eric says as soon as Sage is close enough to hear over the storm, a friendly smile on Eric's face. Rain pelts down on the two men, Eric's new clothes already soaked. The captain doesn't even want to think about his own.

"I am," the captain says with heavy eyes. Just the tone of his voice confirms his answer. At least sleep shall come easy tonight.

"Luckily, I'm here and you can go get some rest." Eric smiles; at least one of them can increase moral. "And, who knows, maybe by the time you're up, the storm'll be over."

"I can hope, can't I?" Sage says with a weak attempt at a smile, running a hand over his face to rub his eyes then pull a swatch of stuck hair off his forehead. He tries to run his fingers through his hair as well, but it's too knotted to do anything productive. "Alright, I gotta sleep. Don't let the ship sink while I'm gone."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

And with that, the captain is walking off to bed. Just the thought of a mattress underneath his body instead of the drenched wood is heaven enough. He turns a few corners in precise, calculated steps, before he's pushing open the door to his cabin. He's greeted by the prisoner sitting on his mattress, his nose deep into a book.

"Good to see me, isn't it?" Sage whispers into the room, a sleep deprived attempt at a joke and a greeting. The prisoner looks up from his book at the tired, tired man. Did James— Did James stay up waiting?

"It is, actually," James says precisely, his t on the it hit sharp. The prisoner folds down the corner of the page he's working on, shutting the book quickly. "I didn't know when you were going to be back."

"During a storm, I never get a break until Eric and Celine already had one. Eric just got up, so now I finally get to rest," Sage replies with a tight smile, falling onto his own bed with a grown.

"That must be hard," James says, his tone caring. The captain forces himself to roll over with all his might in order to respond.

"It is." With the two words, Sage slumps back down. "Don't let me bother you; I'll be asleep in a second."

"You're not a bother. I'm glad to see you," James hesitates for a moment. "I don't think a dead captain would put the sole prisoner in a good position." Little by little, he's been getting more talkative. It's been around two and a half weeks since he was first brought here, and it's only now that James' holding conversations.