“Captain! Those two ships they-” the first mate halted in his tracks when he realized that the Captain was sitting with Mr. Helmer and their hostage. The Captain seemed to be in some kind of trance as he polished off his plate of food in front of him.

As the man slowly set his plate down, a wistful smile upon his face, the first mate hadn’t a clue what could’ve put the normally stern and cautious man so at ease… unless his cup was full to the brim with Troivackian moonshine.

“Err… Captain?” The first mate glanced around him then, and noticed suddenly that literally everyone with a plate in front of themselves was in various states of peace and contentment that was borderline disturbing…

“What is it, Ewan?” The Captain’s soft relaxed voice drew the first mate’s eyes back to his superior, though it was clear that the man was greatly disturbed.

“Those two ships that we noticed this morning have drawn closer, could it be that the Daxarian military has sent them to attack?”

The Captain stood, plucking up his small glass of wine and taking a small leisurely sip before holding out his hand for the spyglass. The first mate hastily handed him the brass instrument, and waited as his superior took a leisurely glance around.

“Ewan, lad, you need to rest. That vessel to our port side is a deep sea fishermen’s vessel, most likely coming out for a fine catch of mackerel. The ship to our starboard is a Troivackian merchant ship,” the Captain clapped a hand on his protegee’s shoulder as he handed back the spyglass. “Have a plate of food and take a seat. We’re talking about the tranquility of Troivackian nights to Mr. Helmer’s son here. A greater quiet you’ve never heard when your feet is set on the central sands...”

The first mate looked nervously towards the Troivackian Chief of Military who was regarding the Captain with a raised eyebrow and a rare, amused smile.

“Aye… Captain. I’ll put Lorne on the helm.”

Ewan left feeling completely baffled over his superior’s relaxed attitude… tensions had been rising every day their attack drew nearer, especially with the fire witch on board… but… why was everyone acting as though it were over? As though they were on a voyage back home instead of awaiting battle?

The first mate continued to ponder this as he walked over and informed the soldier currently steering the ship he had been assigned his break. When Ewan eventually made his way over to the two soldiers that had been tasked with guarding Mr. Helmer’s son, he noticed they too were staring around at their shipmates in confusion.

“I’m here for my meal.”

The two men turned and stared at him, both of them taking a moment to snap out of their evaluations.

“Here. Maybe you can tell us what the cook did to the food. I’ve not seen the soldiers this quiet since the funerals from the last civil war…” the larger of the two men explained, his keen eyes surveying the smiles and good natured discussions wafting through every group of resting men.

The observation made Ewan even more hesitant to take the food from them… but then again Mr. Helmer had been with his son when he had been cooking… there was nothing he could have done to it without being noticed…

Picking up the strange crispy potato… biscuit? Pancake? Ewan took a tentative bite, and after two seconds, he felt a breath leave his body he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. A breath that he felt like he’d been holding since… since he left home.

The flavor was comforting, and yet so deeply delicious that it was also rejuvenating…

Each bite he expected the concoction to become too salty, or too bland, but it never happened. It was perfect from the very first to the very last bite.

Turning his attention next to the cabbage, he used the blade at his side to tentatively try some of the meticulously sliced vegetable, and the moment his teeth sank into the crisp crunchiness…

New flavors teased him under the familiar ingredients of vinegar, salt, and pepper.

“Not you too!”

Ewan jumped. He had completely forgotten that the two Troivackian soldiers had been watching him, he had been so captivated by his meal…

How was it, food could make him feel so… good? He felt at peace and comforted, and yet he also felt… sated. Sated on a level he hadn’t realized had been deprived.

“I… I… have you two not had any yet?” the first mate asked, trying to return to the moment before this strange emotional journey.

“No… we can once we’re finished, but we aren’t sure we want to at this point,” the shorter of the men grumbled.

“You will want to try this. It… it isn’t poisoned, it just… it’s the best meal I’ve ever had in my life.”

The short Troivackian shoulder glanced at the dishes in front of him flatly then back at the first mate as though he had just claimed they were eating rainbows.

“Looks like cabbage and potatoes to me.”

“It is, but… it’s better. Try some now. It’s fine.” Ewan waved his hand encouragingly.

“Yes, Stanley, Bruce. You should try some, you’ve been on your feet all day.” Fin appeared behind the first mate, making him nearly jump out of his skin. “Sorry, Ewan. Didn’t mean to frighten you. Go have a seat and enjoy the rest of the meal.”

For whatever reason, without thinking about it, he gave a quick bow to the redhead before trodding off to take a seat. The action making both Bruce and Stanley glance at each other in surprise.

“Alright you two, I can take over for now, and after you’ve eaten we need to play a drinking game together- the Captain says he’ll even share some of his moonshine.”

The men immediately perked up in excitement, before remembering they were wary of the redhead.

“Why do people treat you differently?” Bruce asked with a frown.

Fin’s eyebrows moved upwards in surprise over the man’s candid question. “I suppose because I don’t behave like you all expect me to.”

“You got that right,” Stanley grumbled. “You should be shitting in your pants like every other Daxarian would be, instead you wanna feed an’ drink with us, but you don’t wanna become a Troivackian…”

“Why can’t we be friends while I remain a Daxarian and you two remain Troivackians?” the redhead asked with a friendly smile.

“Cause…’we’re too different, an’ we’re going to have to kill you, an’ most likely your friends and family and-”

“Most likely, but not for certain… A lot can change in a short amount of time. Besides, none of that is happening today, is it?”

The men both blinked and frowned in bewilderment.

“I… s’pose not,” Bruce answered slowly.

“Then for today, we know we can be friends.”

“So you can betray us later?” Bruce asked coldly.

“I don’t attack first, and I’m too terrible at lying to betray anyone. Isn’t that a relief?” Fin explained while pressing his hands into his pockets with a laugh.

Stanley’s expression darkened immediately. “Troivack doesn’t work that way. Only the weak trust.”

Fin’s smile faded as he stared at the two men appraisingly for a few minutes. “That must be… exhausting. All the time. Not having a single person you can build trust with.”

“We trust that we can’t trust anyone” Bruce explained with a growl.

“Well… that sounds like you’re a lonely, individualistic people… but let me ask you something… If you can’t trust people, and you must always stand alone, knowing that even the person standing at your side might stab you in the back… who is stronger? The army that trusts each other and isn’t looking to betray one another? Or the army that believes they will die by their loved ones rather than the enemy. Which would you want to be?”

Both men were quiet for a while, but the redhead waited patiently.

“I’d like to not be scared of anything. Even my friend turning on me, because I never trusted him.” Bruce declared proudly.

“Are you happy then?”

“Aye,” the two answered in unison.

“Well, then that is where we differ, and that’s alright. However, in Daxaria I can say our mortality rate is quite a bit lower than Troivackia's… and even if we are friends today and you have a knife in my back by the day after next, at least we will have had a nice time before then. Now, grab a plate, and get going, the sun is setting and we still have to clean the galley.”

Both the Troivackian soldiers glanced at each other, clearly ill at ease with the conversation, but one thing was certain…

Their dialogue had definitely made them even more mystified by the red haired cook.

*

Annika stared at Elizabeth Nonata from beneath the shadow of her cloak, and watched as the woman tilted her head trying to see who was visiting her.

“I want to know the name of the ships you used for smuggling in soldiers,” Annika lowered her voice in hopes of hiding her identity- even though the two women had never formally met.

“That information was confiscated by the King and is now a secret of the crown,” the assistant recited dully.

“Are they docked now in Austice?”

“That information was confiscated by the King and is now a secret of the crown,” Elizabeth repeated in the same flat voice she had used before.

“If a Troivackian warship saw that they were yours, would they see the ship as friend or foe?”

The assistant hesitated then. Finally releasing a long sigh, she leaned against the bars wearily as she looked at her mysterious visitor disinterestedly.

“Any idea where my dog went? He chased a black cat out of here a day ago when the Captain came down for questioning.”

“I have not heard about any kind of dog being around here,” Annika said truthfully.

‘Though I do know a certain pyromaniac black cat…’

“I see… find my dog. Make sure he’s alright, and I’ll tell you what you want to know.” Elizabeth Nonata shrugged.

“Ah… I will help you find your dog if you give me the information first.”

“That isn’t how I practice business. Good evening.” Elizabeth Nonata bobbed her head and began to shuffle back towards her cot, her chains jangling as she moved.

Annika stood there pondering how best to handle this… she couldn’t waste time hunting down a dog… Plus if she asked the Captain about it he would know instantly that she had been talking with a prisoner.

“Is there anything you want that I can bequeath more imminently for the information? A bath, perhaps?”

“Hmm… I suppose a reduced sentence is out of the question. The King was quite lenient given that I was not actively involved in treason… five year sentence for obstruction of justice and a few other trifle offences. A bath is generous, but… short term. I suppose a job once I leave as a maid somewhere might be nice.” The woman cited idly.

However, despite the hopeless note in Elizabeth’s voice, Annika then had her answer.

“Here is what I’m willing to offer you, Nonata. You give me seven years of servitude instead of five years in this cell, and you have a deal.”

The former assistant to the infamous Madame Mathilda sat up, her face openly dubious.

“For someone to make me a deal like that, you must be very powerful in either the court, or the underbelly of Austice. I’d like to know which end of the beast I’m dealing with.”

“I’ve made my terms. Asking for more is greedy.” There was a threatening tone in Annika’s voice despite her speaking softly.

Elizabeth visibly swallowed, then stood slowly. “I don’t kill people, or commit treason.”

“Fine.”

“I want nothing to do with human trafficking.”

“It is done. Now. Do we have an agreement?” the Viscountess asked, her voice beginning to rasp.

Sidling back over to the cell door, the assistant put her hand through the bars.

As Annika reached her own gloved hand out and grasped it, Elizabeth tried to yank her forward, but the Viscountess was far stronger and better trained than the woman who’d sat behind a desk most her life.

Elizabeth’s head banged against the cell bars, making them ring and a sharp gasp to leave her lips as she tried to move to instinctively clutch her head. Only, her hand was still in the vice grip of the hooded figure.

“I am not to be trifled with or taken lightly, Nonata. If you think to betray me, or flee from me after taking my deal, I will have you rot in this cell for ten years of your life. More if you think to try and pull something that harms me.”

The assistant’s eyes were watering from the pain in her head, but she slowly nodded.

“So we have an understanding?” Annika asked icily, her grip tightening yet again around the woman’s hand.

“Yes,” Elizabeth whimpered weakly, realizing the sincerity in her visitor’s warning but knowing it was still a chance she had to take.

“Excellent. I will return momentarily with a contract for you to sign.”

Turning on her heel, the Viscountess headed towards the stairs where she would commandeer a desk to draft the deal she had made countless of times with the staff members of her home. Though this one would be a little different… After all, Elizabeth Nonata was one of the best assistant’s in all of Austice. It’d be a waste to let her talent erode away in a cell…

“I know who you are.”

Annika froze, her foot on the first stone step leading back above ground.

She turned slowly to once again face the imprisoned woman, her heart suddenly skipping a beat.

“Oh? Who am I, Nonata?”

“I’ve heard about you… you’re… you’re the Dragon.”

A gradual smile climbed its way up the Viscountess’ lips, that Elizabeth only saw half of, and grew immediately frightened.

“That’s right, and it’d be wise of you to never forget that there isn’t a corner of this world you can hide, where you can be safe from me.”