The Eye of His Dark Majesty

Tangled Tides

The first light of dawn crept across my face, warm and soft, pulling me from sleep. I blinked awake, finding myself alone on the stretch of sand, the memory of last night still settling into me like a quiet, cherished secret. Then I turn, expecting to see him beside me, but the space is empty, his cloak tossed aside. For a moment, I simply lay there, savoring the feeling that hummed through me—contentment, a sense of rightness. It was new, but something in me welcomed it.

I sat up, pulling my dress over my shoulders and glancing around. That's when I spotted him down by the water, already busy at work. Halbrand's back was to me, his figure lit by the first rays of sunlight, his hands moving with purpose as he carved something from the wood. I watched him for a moment, letting the scene come into focus—a boat, half-finished, taking shape beneath his hands. I was stunned; how could he have managed so much already?

Quietly, I stood and walked over, my footsteps light on the sand. I noticed he'd left his shirt discarded nearby, and despite myself, my gaze lingered on his back, on the muscles that moved beneath his skin, and the fresh bandages that still hugged his side. His scars weren't fully healed yet, and I could see him tensing slightly with each movement, but he seemed determined, absorbed in his work.

At last, he seemed to sense my presence and turned, catching me mid-step. His eyes softened, a small, knowing smile curving his mouth as he straightened up.

"Didn't mean to wake you," he said, his voice low and still a little rough from the morning.

"You didn't," I replied, offering him a small smile back. "I just... noticed you weren't there."

His expression softened as he looked at me, his face open and without the guardedness I sometimes caught. I felt a rush of warmth beneath his gaze, something both familiar and new.

"You're already halfway done," I murmured, nodding toward the boat. "How long have you been awake?"

"A while," he said, shrugging slightly. "Didn't want to sit around doing nothing. Figured I'd get a head start."

I hesitated, taking a small breath. "It's impressive," I said, glancing at the fine lines of the boat, the care in every detail. "I forget... you're a craftsman, and all. Good with your hands."

The words came out more shyly than I'd intended, and he gave a faint smile, glancing down at his hands almost thoughtfully, flexing his fingers. "That's one way to put it," he replied. There was a quiet pride in his tone that suited him.

He looked back at me then, his eyes lingering. Something filled the silence between us, comfortable and calm. We didn't need many words—it was enough just to be here.

I glanced toward the shore, considering. "If you like, I could find us something to eat," I offered. "I know it won't be much, but... maybe some berries?"

"That would be nice," he replied, his gaze still fixed on me. His voice was gentle, almost hesitant, and I felt something settle between us. There was still a lot we hadn't spoken about, things that hovered just outside this moment, but we didn't need them right now. He reached out, a hand hovering near my arm before he drew back. "Take your time," he added, nodding toward the grove nearby. "I'll finish up here."

I nodded, turning and heading toward the thicket, still feeling the weight of his gaze on me. The morning air was fresh and cool as I stepped into the shadows of the trees, where clusters of berries hung heavy on the bushes. Carefully, I picked the ripest ones, testing each with my thumb to make sure they were firm and sweet. I found a few clusters of edible leaves as well, pulling them together into a makeshift bundle.

As I worked, I let my mind drift back to the quiet moments between us, remembering the softness in his expression, the gentleness of his hands despite their strength. It was strange, this feeling of growing used to him being there. In the beginning, I'd always been guarded around him, cautious, watching his every move with a sort of suspicion. Now... now it felt as though I understood him more, like he'd let me into some part of himself he didn't share with others.