Fire in our veins

Who do you really play with

 Erik didn't want to get up, especially in the middle of the night. He was tired and the last few days on the ship hadn't given him a moment to rest. Somehow he rolled out of the hammock he had been sleeping on, while at the same time not waking the crew. First he walked over to the water barrel and dipped his head in it. Cold water was one of the few things that could wake him up at this hour. He checked the hold first, and not because it was the most important. It was the closest, and he was only required to check that all the crates were in place. The hold was dark, the only light coming from a lantern he had taken from the corridor. Everything was as it should be, except, of course, the wine crate. He sighed exasperatedly, he hoped that before returning to the island he had explained to the crew exactly what he would do to them if he caught them stealing wine again. Had this been a different situation, he might even have forgotten about it and entered the missing goods as a loss. If it wasn't for the fact that there was Viggo on board, who was even maniacally going through all his reports.

He walked closer and placed the lamp in a safe place. The box was open, but not damaged as the crew usually did. The lid had been carefully undermined on all sides and, had it not been for the resulting crack, he would not even have noticed it. To be sure, he checked the side of the crate. On one side was a burnt symbol that he knew all too well. To be sure, he checked all the chests once more before he left. The cold air blew his wet hair away as he stepped onto the deck. The two hunters, who were the only ones on night watch that night, immediately straightened up when they saw him.

He stopped beside them for a moment and, after making sure nothing unusual was happening, leaned against one of the sides. The horizon was beginning to brighten and thus he could see the first rocks protruding from the sea. The island was getting closer and closer and so was home. A warm bed and equally warm food. No nightwatchers, dragons or those kids who had been making him miserable lately. And most importantly, she was waiting for him. He didn't know what he had done in his life to deserve her, but the very thought of seeing her again in the evening gave him strength.

With a much better mood than when he woke up, he went below deck. Perhaps that was why he was deluding himself that Viggo would still be asleep. However, when he saw a streak of light coming out of the gap between the door and the floor, he knew he would not be so lucky. The door, to his amazement, was not fully closed, which, given the diligence with which his chief did everything, was downright suspicious.

He wanted to enter the room immediately, but something told him to stop. What he was planning to do was foolish, even for him. Feeling a surge of courage, he walked as quietly as he could to the door and looked through the resulting crack. He expected to see Viggo sitting at his desk, or as was his habit, walking around the room. However, what he saw was something he personally did not expect. Viggo was neither sleeping nor sitting at his desk.

His chief wasn't one of the people he could have accused of being gentle. However, the way he brushed the hair away from Eira's face was downright tender. The way he looked at her or how he carefully covered her with the blanket she had to throw off. Erik felt as if he was watching something he shouldn't, but on the other hand he couldn't stop the smile that slowly grew on his face. Carefully, so as not to give away his position, he backed up to the beginning of the corridor and approached the door with his normal step. His smile widened when he heard the sound of a chair being pushed back. He knocked on the door and when the answer came he stepped inside.

As he expected Viggo was sitting at the desk, taking a few sips of wine straight from the beaker. In front of him were quite a variety of parchments to suggest that he had just interrupted his work.

- It's good to know that whether Helga or our guest tells you this, you still don't listen to the healer's recommendations. - He sat down opposite and grabbed a new beaker thrown in his direction.