Fate - First Reply Candles on the Sea

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For a moment, it was all the woman could do to stare at the man, cocking a brow as if to find meaning in his eyes. Sure, there was meaning to be found around fingers, with or without the dagger, as much as with the tongue of which throats were getting coated in whiskey, ale and other beverages this evening.

A moment of silence ensued, Nerren simply staring, wondering what his meaning was without actually asking the question. Ed had somewhere to be at midnight, he said, and that she should come with. Was he being that obvious and explicit? Does he mean to bed me already?

It wouldn't be too early by any means, neither too late. Maybe he was simply masking his impatience. Either way, whatever the measure of his thirst, that was another game that would have to wait. There was still the matter of the dagger and more than one hilt mattered to her.

The drinks came. Shots of firewhiskey, to be precise, though Nerren delayed her drink, savoring the moment to take in her companion’s face, eyes into eyes. Words were ever semantics but maybe he had since been promoted from simply being a contemporary in her presence.

“Fun. Rough.” She shrugged. “Wasn’t much of a difference for us. In my village, the children were either building the buildings or toiling the fields if we weren’t out hunting or fishing. We found enjoyment in our work, rest assured.” Nerren leaned closer toward Edward, face hovering over the table inches from his with her own mischievous grin.

“At age seven I was attacked by three boys who didn’t like it when I beat them in a footrace. They beat me bloody so I dropped boiling oil on their heads the next day. At age seventeen I took a boy to bed who meant everything to me.” She waved a hand. “Or so I figured. I was silly. One year later I killed my first man after he stole my wagon and left me in the snow.” She raised her glass. “And all of it was fun.” Time to toast at that.

“To Teth and Nordengaard, this night and sunlight when it arrives, and may it melt hell.” She knocked her shot back, licked her lips, barely wincing from the burn within. “What might I like come midnight?”

Edward Lorain
 
Now that he could understand, at least in part. Not the building part, as Edward had already proven his building skills were lacking, but he knew what it was like to be put to work as soon as you could be on your own. A majority of the children of Teth served as busboys, powder monkeys, or just runners for crews when they were on land.

It was a cutthroat world where food was constantly being fought for. He had seen his fair share of young teens shiv others in order to gain food or coin. Even Ed had nearly died twice as murder attempts in his younger years.

"Sounds like they all deserved it. Good on ya."

He raised his glass in a mirroring of her toast, then threw the drink back, although he made a small face as the burn ran down his throat. Not an unpleasant feeling, but certainly packed a punch.

Edward could not help but smile and raise his eyebrows as he could only imagine what Nerren was thinking of. She may have been playing a little hard to get, but she was at least thinking about it which was a good sign. Sadly, that was not what he was referring to.

"Oh, don't you worry, we can partake in that after. But at midnight...let's just call it a show that you won't want to miss."

The Devil was calling due and there would be consequences for poor choices.

Nerren Harclaw
 
Had they all deserved it? Sure. Nerren was a killer from a younger age and some claimed that to be the same as murderer. Such a poor connotation when it came to semantics, perhaps, but such was the way of her environment and the warrior. One did not brave the cold white of the land or the cruel grey of the sea and not expect to get their hands wet. One was also a ruthless raider.

Frozen, in some cases. Nerren remembered when frostbite had nearly taken her fingers. Here she sat in this tavern, however, with ten digits intact at the hands and those toes. That meant just as many to tickle or kill this man with depending on the occasion. Time would tell.

Fun. That was one word, simplest in pronunciation. Whether you were from this continent or that one you could understand it. However, one person’s version of it tended to vary between each other. Nerren? Oh, she could bed this Edward Lorain in a heartbeat with or without a few more drinks if he wanted it, yet it seemed he was the one playing hard to get.

Then again, he did have her dagger, not that she expected him to have half a hand-axe in understanding that. Yet.

“What I don’t want to miss is a good time,” she replied, head tilted. With a bit of a buzz from drink that could bite, her blood was up but not by much. “If you can give me that at midnight then you can hang onto your dagger and your pants.” She sipped her ale, licked her lips. “For the moment, that is.”

Edward Lorain
 
"Well, I do aim to please. Don't worry it will be quite the show."

Ed laughed as he took another large swig of his drink, and his free hand began to tap along with the song playing in the background. It was getting late into the night, but he guessed they still had time for a drink or two.

Her mentioning of it again made him glance down to where the dagger rested at his belt. For what felt like the tenth time that night, he began to wonder about the significance of the dagger, but at the moment he was in no danger of being injured like earlier in the day so he must be doing something right.

First his business, then he could have some real fun, but he had to be sure to keep his priorities, some things just had to be that important.

"I promise we will get to the dagger and my pants, but I feel like I need to impress you before that all happens."

Nerren Harclaw
 
Honestly, the fact that this man had kept the dagger instead of sending it back to the woman who had handed it him was probably enough to merit his stance as a warrior. Perhaps that was a bit of an exaggeration on the part of the observer but wasn’t that warranted?

Morning had led to evening, light became dark, and within this tavern this man and woman shared stories of homeland and histories of their lives at that time. The music had shifted, favoring the string, and Nerren listened with another sip of her drink.

For a moment, she had all but forgotten the man in her presence, instead shifting her vision to other patrons. Men. Women. Human. Elven. Dwarven. Most were merry-making, drinking and chatting and dancing, standing or sitting before the bartender who was pouring.

None of them seemed to be unhappy if some were yet a bit out of their wits. Sure, you had the shady person in the corner smoking a pipe with a hood over the head, but no violence yet in the Drunken Clam.

Though there was a window that had taken Nerren’s gaze. Sailor. Raider. She wondered whether there was a difference for women like her. Warrior. War was within her ever since she was born.

“The sun is hot and the moon is cold,” she whispered to nobody in particular. And upon the rock I must be bold. “And I am no poet or singer,” she grinned as she returned her attention to Edward.

“Neither am I some desperate bitch,” she said. “If you can impress me with your prowess of using my dagger or yours without pissing your pants then consider me interested.” She finished her ale while her gaze was like a flail. "Else you better build a better ship or have some other skill."

Edward Lorain
 
As the day turned to night and the moon rose to its zenith, the drinks never stopped coming. However, although a glaze had taken over his vision, Edward still never entirely loss his sharpness. He got the chance to enjoy it for a brief time, in that he got to admire his drinking companion.

She was strong, she stood firm even with the merriment around her. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy herself, but while Edward was like the river that moved and weaved with the atmosphere, she stood like a rock braced against the waters. He could respect that even if it was opposed to his ways of living.

"Well, I've never been told I'm particularly good with a knife. Although, I'm sure I can find something."

A wave down from the tavern owner forced Edward to his feet with a sigh. He struggled to right his balance for a moment before he turned to Nerrin with a smile.

"Alright, time for the show. Right this way, to the docks."

Edward motioned for her to follow as he stumbled his way out of the now-active tavern and down the dark, largely abandoned roads.

Nerren Harclaw
 
Good. Bad. This man’s eyes might betray his knife, as his knife might betray his eyes, and perhaps there was a bit of a difference. He didn’t know the dagger at his hip that was from her but he didn’t know the game he was playing either.

Surely this guy was good at something if not building ships or with a knife. Yet there was a sailor in his eyes, of that much Nerren wasn’t mistaken, or else she would betray her better instincts to hell.

A soul of the seas could not afford to be too scientific or superstitious, however, so the reaver had since decided to be serendipitous. She could only hope that Edward Lorain had his words where his fingers were or, in other words, didn’t end up with a dagger up his tongue.

Ed fought for balance as he stood up but Nerren didn’t. She was used to this. This wasn’t some boast, though, but just a contradiction between this man and woman who stood so close yet so far apart in their partnership.

To the docks, Edward gestured, so Nerren followed just so. However, if this was ultimately some dumb strategy to take her to a back alley and take her, well, this poor being would be sorely mistaken. Maybe.

“Dangerous way to head for the docks, huh?”

The Nordenfiir reflected with her hands on her hips amid the weapons on each one. Though she didn’t know one shortcut from the next amid the residents. She was just a foreign guest under the circumstances.

“If we get jumped then I’m pushing you into the drunks."

Edward Lorain
 
Edward made his way down the road with the confidence that only a perfectly inebriated man could. He glanced back at her with a smirk before shaking his head and dismissing her worries.

"Some say dangerous, others say safe. Don't worry though, I don't get jumped...but if it makes you feel better then push away."

Some gnat must have annoyed him because he swiped at the air near his face, before focusing back on their walk down to the docks. While he was still stumbling slightly, his pace did increase.

"We may need to hurry. Oh never mind, they are still there."

As they turned a corner, off in the distance, the waters of the port were still visible. And sitting atop the waves were hundreds of the small model boats that children and Edward alike had made. Many of the vessels' candles had been extinguished throughout the night, but there were still some that remained steadfast even into the midnight hours.

Nerren Harclaw
 
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