treading water | halbrand & isildur [on hold]

2 | númenor

HER ROYAL HIGHNESS NIMRIEL ELASHOR OF THE NUIN-NEN REALM, FIRST OF HER NAME, VOICE OF THE TIDES, DAUGHTER OF HIGH KING MALON ELASHOR, CROWN PRINCESS OF NARAMYR.

The sound of roaring thunder echoed in Nimriel's head as she woke suddenly. It took her a moment too long for her to realize she wasn't still trapped on the raft in the raging storm, and her body rolled to the side quickly, seeking out the ocean and the safety that came with it on instinct.

But her body didn't hit the water — it hit the hardwood floors of a ship. Nim let out a high-pitched groan while clenching her eyes shut, focusing on the pain in her extremities that woke her right up. Then she opened her eyes while moving onto her back.

Up above her was a wooden roof rather than the sky. And in her peripheral vision, she saw several cot beds, some of which were hanging like hammocks to fit even more. By the gentle way the floor was rocking beneath her and the distant sound of waves not too far off, Nim at least figured out that she was on a boat.

It took another second for Nim to also realize she could hear someone laughing. So, she sat up on her elbows and spotted Halbrand sitting on top of one of the beds that'd been next to the one she presumably just fell out of. And he was the one laughing, greatly amused by the whole falling ordeal.

"Shut up," she grumbled, narrowing her eyes at him.

Halbrand managed to stifle his laughs while putting his hands up in defense. Then he slid off the bed and made his way over to her. "Morning to you too," he said, looking to be in a much better mood than he had been on the raft. He held out a hand to help her stand, which she took gratefully.

"You're looking better," Nim noted once she was on her feet. Though she released his hand, she didn't really put any distance between them. Most of his natural color had returned to him, meaning he must have eaten and drunk something to look healthier. And his hair and clothes were dry as well.

"As are you," he noted. As he spoke, Halbrand raised his hand and brushed his thumb across her forehead. Nim nearly flinched at the contact, not expecting his calloused finger to feel so gentle against her skin. "Head wound's all healed up."

"Head wound?" she questioned, not really remembering the broken piece of the raft knocking her out. But she vaguely recalled being lost to the sea. Galadriel must have pulled her back out. "Well, so long as we're in the ocean, our injuries heal very quickly."

"That's almost as nifty as the trick you pulled on me," he said, glancing at his arm that she'd healed the day before.

"So, where are we?" Nim asked, looking around the sleeping chambers of the ship. Based on the number of cots, there were clearly many crew members that must have been above them and working on the deck. She'd never actually been on a ship — just watched them from a distance.

"Not quite sure," Halbrand admitted. Then he reached for his cot and pulled out a bowl of food, holding it in front of her face like a prize. "Though I don't suspect we'd be given hot food and beds to lie on if we were prisoners."