Stranger Redemption (Davy Jones x Female OC)

II

Anya fell in step behind the Captain. She's not sulking about on his ship until further notice. Most of who she'd been brought up with, had already died or agreed to serve.

"And what of me until then?" She demands.

Davy's shoulders tense.  He blinks rapidly in surprise at her firmness.  He turns, ready to give a good tongue lashing when the first real breeze since she arrived brushes through the deck and she shivers.

Anya doesn't pay it any mind. But Davy does.

His eyes soften. Forgetting his harsh words... for now. "Someone get her a blanket." He barks.

"We don't have any blankets."

"I'm fine."

The crewmembers words mix with Anyas as they speak at the same time.

Davy turns to his crewmate and notes the piece of cloth hanging from the man's hands. Taken from the spoils of the vessel Anya was just oboard.

He rolls his eyes. Yanking the cloth from the other man's grasp. "This is a blanket, you moron!"

He throws the material over Anya's shoulders. She just stares defiantly.

Davy hums.

Interesting girl...  He thinks.

"Come with me."

He begins to make his way behind the stairs into a more private hall. Anya follows until she notices how much darker and quieter it is here and stops.

He turns. "You can stay here and take your chances with the crew if you wish!"

That's enough to convince her... for now.

She follows through a door into large room. A massive organ on the opposite wall takes her breath away. The room is a mess of books, candles and even a daybed or two. Another door to her right is shut, blocking what it holds from her view. This must be part of the Captian's quarters.

Davy threw some blankets in a pile on one of the daybeds. "You can sleep in here."

She regards him with curiosity. Anya has never been able to tame her curiosity. Or her desire to learn. As a girl, she would run til she was much too far past her family's estate line. Beyond the safe world her parents had made for her. Chasing some creature or another that had caught her eyes. Her mother would have to rush out in the carriage at dinner time and scold her. And when she could no longer explore; she read every book that was ever available to her. Especially after she got older and it was unladylike to go outside. Any speck of dirt on her skirts was met with disapproving eyes.

Speaking of...

"My skirts are soaked." She stated.

"That, is information I do not need Miss Wright." He snaps.

"It's Anya. And a moment ago, you were very aware of the effect the cold and wet has on me."  She reached out her hand toward a candle on the table, only for it to be snatched in his.  Or what he has that is most like a hand anyway. 

He regards Anya for a moment with a cold stare. Wondering just how brave this little bug was going to be during her stay here. Davy doubts she'll be able to pull her weight with the crew. Although she is indeed strong, he can sense it in his grip. She's still small, elegant... And the Flying Dutchman is no place for a lady.  It's his own handcrafted hell.

"Whatever we've pulled up from the wreckage should be outside on the starboard. The starboard is on ye ri-"

"I know which one it is."