Bathed in Blood

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Mark and I avoided each other, my eyes making sure to veer from his anytime I caught his own watching me. Seeing him warring over speaking to me. Probably to give a pointless apology, one where I would act as if I never heard him and go about my business. Of course, some of the men had noticed our coldness to one another, using this as fuel to take jibes at us. I was the main target of the jests. Our sleeping arrangements didn't help, either. Being stuck in the same room made things...awkward. Neither of us spoke. Neither of us would look at one another.

Silence. That's what lulled me to sleep at night. As well as the loneliness that accompanied when the odd friendship we had built started to dissipate. It became more prevalent during duties.

After arriving back to the ship, I was reassigned to only taking care of the deck. Scrubbing non-existent spots until my fingers bled and my skin blistered from overexposure to the sun. The flesh of my stomach ached, the gash still freshly healing. Yet I made no complaints. Gave no signs of discomfort nor fuel for the men to taunt me more. So I suffered in silence. Alone.

A week later, I was called into the captain's quarters. Being led down by a sneering Jones who looked at me like he would rather crush me under his boot. The men we passed seemed to snigger as I passed as if knowing something I did not. It put my nerves on edge. Making my heart thunder as I was shoved through the doors, whipping around to glare at Jones who only bowed mockingly before closing the doors firmly.

"Sit," rumbled the captain from behind me.

As I turned, I remembered the first time I had been in here. How close Morran had gotten to me and the fear that had gripped my heart. Especially when that breath had brushed my face and sent my body trembling as it did now. I met those beady eyes and nodded "Hello cap'n."

"I said sit," his voice was harsh as he pointed a callused finger at the chair before his desk.

My feet set to moving, placing myself in the chair and gripped the arms. Mouth closed in a thin line.

He stared at me, looking annoyed and angry as his nostrils flared. One hand rested on a rusted gold pommel of a sword, drumming his fingers on it, the rings on his knuckles clicking. The silence in the room pressing.

"Ya know why ya in here?"

"No," I replied honestly.

Captain Morran barred his yellow teeth, "'Cause of ya actions in the town square last week with tha' stupid boy."

Last week...what happened last week? Just then the gash on my stomach throbbed and I remembered the sound of the whip cracking through the air- then the burning across my abdomen.

"You call me here because I protected a boy? A week ago? And ya call me NOW?"

"I wasna gonna to, but me hands been forced," his voice was deathly low, his free hand spinning a coin on his desk, "Because o' ya actions the navy was called to our attention and we had ta...dispatch a few."

My stomach dropped, "You mean-"

"5 dead, and one a their ships spotted on our tails. All cause o' ya womanly weaknesses putting this whole crew in jeopardy."

"You're blaming me?" I breathed incredulously, shaking my head, "All because I didn' think a lil' boy deserved to be whipped in front of all those people for takin' a bloody apple?"

"Watch ya tone, missy," Morran threatened, "ya still a member of me ship til we reach ya fathers."

I stood, cheeks flushed and heart racing, "I'm not to blame for ya dense men killin members of the Navy! I'd rather had been left there than be stuck on this bloody ship, bein' lumped in with the lotta ya! My father hasn't been around since I could remember, I couldn't give a hell if I saw 'im ever again."

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