MELITA
Wondering if now was a good time, especially before digging into the ridiculous fathoms of impending drama, she rummaged through her sack, producing a very large bottle of vintage wine. “Before I forget, here,” and she passed it over – figuring it was a good year and hoping he wouldn’t ask how she acquired it (not that he’d care, probably). “Thought you guys could use it as like a wedding…celebration drink thing. Or whatever. For y’know. Putting up with all my shit for so long.” Or just to enjoy themselves. They probably deserved far more than the alcohol, but it was a start.Then, of course, came the story, or the framework, given that details still weren’t incredibly prevalent (no surprise there, given who Jack was). But the Captain setting fire to his own ship made her eyes widen – for it didn’t make much sense. “And he didn’t say…why?” She’d always known him to be a vengeful, spiteful creature, but could coolly handle his opponents and enemies with steadfast patience and cruelty. Not laying waste to his something he cherished.
And maybe she was a little hurt, somewhere in that well of her emotions, that she hadn’t been told anything at all. At least not from the Captain himself. Not that it mattered, she supposed, and she kept the little sulking pattern in the back of her mind. “And you’re good with all his nefarious shit being there?” It probably was nothing to him either – but King’s End hadn’t always been somewhere targeted for smuggling purposes; Frey demographics sure, but her eyes whipped upward, watching for her uncle’s reaction.
This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight
