Soldier, Poet, King

Chapter 13: Sedated

There are no more candles to burn aboard the Revenge. You wake to darkness and for a moment, before your eyes adjust enough to see the thin line of light from beneath the door, wonder if you are dead and have passed on into some form of limbo. A splitting pain shoots through your head and behind your eyes when you sit up and with curious fingertips find the barely closed gash at your temple, still sticky with drying blood and plasma. Shrugging on your jacket, you hear the creak of floorboards outside the door followed by a soft knock. Jim pokes their head in a moment later, eyes falling to where you had been lying down first before meeting your gaze.

"I didn't think you'd be up," Their voice is hoarse, the blood from yesterday still splattered on their face and neck, "Breakfast is ready in the Great cabin, if you're hungry."

"I thought we ran out of food last week?" You try to furrow your brows, wincing at the stinging that courses through the side of your head.

"I'm calling it breakfast to make it sound less gross. It's a seagull that Archie beat over the side of its head with a piece of wood. It's not even warm or anything, but it's that or nothing."

"I think I know how the bird feels..." Sighing, you follow them out and through the halls to the steps to the Main Deck. Broken picture frames litter the floor, shards of glass crunching underfoot as you make your way through the dim corridor that opens up to the recreation room. You notice the slight limp in Jim's gait as they walk ahead of you, dragging their steps slightly, "Looks like Archie slammed you pretty hard."

"O-Oh, uh, yeah, I guess," Jim pauses, pressing their lips together in a thin line, "She got the worst of it. My lower back's just a bit tweaky. I'm not used to holding back, so she got pretty banged up... B-But, we're gonna work on our sparring after breakfast since she wanted to learn that trip move I did on her so that'll be good practice for me."

"You care about her a lot, huh?" Jim's face relaxes at your remark, a shy smile teasing at the corners of their lips.

"Yeah, she's pretty great."

"She's different from Olu. More bubbly. It's nice seeing someone help you out of your shell."

"It feels freeing. Olu helps me accept myself for who I am and she helps me express that." Jim hums, their dark eyes twinkling as they gush.

"You're really lucky to have found that." Why am I envious?

"I'm not the only one who's lucky, you know," They look over at you, scrunching their nose as they smile, "I think you'll find that you're really lucky, too."

"What do you mean?-"

"We should go before there's no bird left. The first bite is awful," Jim calls from over their shoulder as they limp up the steps to the Main Deck, "And the second bite is just as bad."

"Well, shit, when you say it like that." You mutter, trotting after them.

⬩ ⬩ ⬩

The Revenge is in absolute ruins, far worse than anything you had seen done to her yet. The sails hang from masts in tattered shreds, torn to pieces by the violence of the storm. Rope hangs from every surface, tangled on the ground beside the shards of broken wood that are strewn across the deck. Blood stains have soaked into the deck and the grate, and you're careful not to step on it as you make your way through the mess. You have to duck your head down to get through to the door leading to the Great Cabin, as the main yard had come crashing down at some point during the storm. Your mouth opens in a horrid awe at the sight, the tangibility of the nightmare that had been last night feeling all too real.

"Don't look at it for too long," Jim says, leaning in the doorframe and watching as you take in the disaster, "It won't help, believe me."

"What happened to B-"