Crimson Blade {inspired by Our Flag Means Death}

What We See When the Sun Rises

Small.

His eyes fall on one etching in particular that's been circled, his heart immediately trying to leap out of his throat: Luca? Lukah?

"Did I spell it right? I haven't encountered a name like that before," a soft voice croons behind him, and Luka's heart is pounding against his rib cage, desperate to be set free.

***

The first thing that Theo Crimsonblade sees when his eyes flutter open is Luka Littleton asleep in his bed, illuminated by the still-burning candle on the nightstand. The man's mouth hangs open slightly and even in sleep, his brow is creased in concentration. And maybe Theo's heart melts a little, but there's no one there to step in the puddle, so he's not sure if it actually counts. He sits up and stretches his limbs, his journal which was open on his chest sliding onto the couch next to him. He moves across the space and opens one of the stained glass windows behind his desk, feeling the warm breeze as it caresses his face.

A beautiful day is beginning, temperate weather in the cards it seems, as the sun begins to crawl out from beyond the horizon. Maneuvering effortlessly through the stacks of books and weapons that are everywhere, the master of this particular brand of chaos, Theo's feet move him silently past Luka, who's snoring lightly, and into his dressing room. He sheds his sleeping robe and dons his usual leather trousers, and chooses a flowing, long sleeve, white blouse that exposes the assortment of tattoos that litter his chest, to embrace the warmth that this day promises.

Theo crosses over to Luka once more, unable to stay out of his orbit for more than a few moments at a time, and blows out the candle that's dangerously low, opening the curtains a tad to let a little light in. The younger man must be a restless sleeper, as he has thrown off his covers in the night. Before he can talk himself out of it, Theo lifts the covers to tuck him back in.

Just then, there's a soft knock on the door and he turns to see Zizi's frame behind the frosted glass, "Refreshments!"

The silhouette disappears and Theo opens the door, carefully lifting the tray of drinks and bringing it over to Luka's bedside. He writes a quick note and slips it beneath the water glass, hoping the other man will choose to hydrate himself. After the strenuous events of not only the past day, but his month spent being starved on that boat, he needs it. Anger digs its claws into his chest, and he has to remind himself that that's over now. One last look at Luka's face, and then he's gone, retrieving his weapons belt and exiting the cabin.

As his eyes adjust to the full power of the morning light casting orange glows across the vessel, he takes in the faces of his loyal crew. His second in command, Zizi, is deep in conversation with Bart, signing furiously at him. He watches with fondness as Bart rolls his eyes and crosses the deck, patting Theo on the shoulder as he passes.

Theo catches his wrist and tugs gently. "Is Zi demanding jam with biscuits again this morning?" he asks the Irishman in sign language.

Bart sighs exasperatedly but smiles and responds "aye" in his native language.

"Even though she knows that we're running low?" Theo raises a teasing eyebrow at him.

"Aye," Bart confirms, gesturing with his middle finger over Theo's shoulder, to where he's sure Zizi is observing them, before walking away to begin preparing breakfast.

The captain smiles to himself as he strolls over to his right-hand and nudges her head with his own, "Old woman, you are driving him mad!"

Zizi ignores him, calling up to the crow's nest, "Miles! Go help Bart in the kitchen."

"Aye, ma'am!" They respond, clambering out of the bucket and sliding down the rope before disappearing below deck.

"How's our stowaway?" She asks, steering the conversation away from her misdeeds and to his.