Mud Puddles [Jim Hawkins x Reader]

Chapter 9

Two days from the Medusa incident, The Fat Lady was sailing like a dream. A very mediocre dream at best, however not crossing the line into a nightmare. The deck had since been cleared of slime and scrubbed with soapy water until it glistened, and although the scorch marks along the hull couldn't be fixed while abroad, they had tried to buff away some of the damage with a broom covered in wax. It would be a bad look to arrive at the academy with a mutilated ship, especially since they stole the ship in the first place and disobeyed direct orders.

Jim and (Y/N) had only had two minor disagreements throughout the three days they had bern on board: one about Jim's chronic eye-rolling ("Jim I swear if you roll your eyes one more time I will personally extract them from your skull."), the other about (Y/N)'s subpar navigation, which apparently led them a couple of hours astray. She blamed it on the injury in her shoulder, to which the fault was partly due, and had been causing much discomfort. Due to the constant feeling of walking on eggshells around each other, tensions were high.

"Anything?" (Y/N) asked. Jim was scanning the horizon (at least, the etherium's horizontal axis) through an ancient spyglass.

The spyglass itself was a relic of a bygone age, or at least from the early stages in the ongoing war. Its walnut outer chamber had been acquainted with many hands, rough and kind, wrinkled and youthful, and each new grip moulded the wood ever so slightly. The inner chambers were gilded with rose gold. A small engraving was etched into the shiny metal: 'K. Blake'. The name was lost on both cadets -- no one had uttered the name of the deceased captain within either of their lifetimes, and doubtless wouldn't ever again.

"Seems clear," Doing one final sweep of the path ahead, Jim paused when he glimpsed a thin, hazy line. "Hold on," He muttered to himself and increased the magnification.

(Y/N)'s eyes followed his line of sight and then squinted to catch a glimpse of whatever he had seen. She could vaguely see what caught his attention and frowned.

"A solar storm." They concluded in unison. After looking at each other with a grim smile, Jim then raised the spyglass to his eye once more.

"I'd say we have half an hour," He estimated, running the calculations through his head. Solar storms were swift and vast; only a fool would try to outrun one and -- if a fool did attempt this -- they would be quickly swept off-course.

(Y/N) recalled their lesson back in their second year about solar storms, which she was glad to have paid attention to.

"Solar storms. You've heard of them, maybe you've been in one. Tell me, what is the most dangerous thing about this phenomenon?" Instructor Zepar asked the squad one autumn morning, and barely waited for the cadets to raise their hands before motioning to Nelson. "Kraft."

"Er-- the solar dust can blind crewme-men temporarily and the high wi-winds will, uh, blow any unfastened crew off the ship." He muttered into his uniform and the class strained to hear his soft voice. Broden Wilkes snickered at the stutter but was quickly silenced by a glare from the instructor.

"Correct, but you are missing one important detail. Any open sails will be torn to shreds by the storm and will leave you dead in the etherium." The instructor walked down the isles of desks and rapped on Jim's desk with a ruler in passing. He woke up with a start and yawned, earning a few giggles from a group of girls at the back of the class. (Y/N) rolled her eyes at the girls' airiness.

"This considered, do not attempt to sail during a solar storm. You will regret it. Solar storms can take up to 22 hours to pass, but sometimes only take 15 minutes. The best thing to do is to batten down the hatches, secure the sails, and wait it out."