The Nightingale

Chapter Nineteen

When Natasha woke the next morning, sun was streaming through the windows and loud voices were penetrating the ships wooden walls. Her eyes were heavy to open and her body ached, a painful reminder of what had happened the night before. She sat up slowly, fingering the swollen gash on her head. Breathing in slowly, the movement causing a deep ache in her shoulders and across her chest, Natasha closed her eyes and rolled her shoulders back and turned her neck, trying to stretch out some of the soreness in her body. The gash across her head had dried but had only barely began to heal, and the rope burns across her wrists still stung with any touch or movement.

Opening her eyes once again, Natasha scanned the room, finding herself alone again. She wondered if John had come back to check on her, or Alexander, or even Jack, who she had barely seen in the last couple days. None of them were nearby, nor was their any sign that the room had been disturbed over the course of the night, although she could hear John's voice from outside and shadows moved in the sun that streamed in underneath the door. As she listened, she heard John's voice broken up by deep, mob-like shouts. Curiously, she swung her feet over the side of the bed and shuffled slowly towards the door and pressed her ear against it once more, listening for John's voice over what sounded like a riot outside.

"Let this be a lesson to all of you!" John bellowed "The girl is not a superstition, or a threat, or a burden. For as long as she is on board this ship, she is one of us, and you will treat her as such. Anybody else who has a problem with that is welcome to stay on this island." As the crew outside erupted into yells Natasha backed away from the door. She had heard John yell at his men before, barking out orders, but she had never heard him talk to them like this.

"Back to work! All of you!" John's voice roared over the sound of the mob and their complaints began to quiet into disgruntled murmurs as the cabin door swung open. Natasha stood still as John faltered momentarily in the doorway, as if he wasn't expecting her to be awake and standing in the middle of the room. He looked exhausted, as if he hadn't slept all night, and shadows of rage crossed his face. He was an entirely different man than the one who picked her up off the floor yesterday and wiped the blood from her face.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, but his words were frigid once more and made Natasha want to recoil. He had let his guard down last night, but Natasha could tell his was back up and reinforced even more than before, so she squared her shoulders as he crossed the room towards his desk.

"Why did you let me stay? If you knew it was going to cause so many problems with your crew, why did you agree to take me on board? Why did you agree to help me? Alexander told me that these men elected you, and that they could just as easily remove you ask captain. Why would you risk all of this to help me?" She crossed her arms over her chest, despite the irritation it caused on her wrists, and tried to stand straight despite the soreness in her back and shoulders from struggling against her attackers.

"You didn't answer my question." He said plainly, and Natasha stared at him incredulously, his behavior reminding her of her younger siblings and their stubbornness.

"And you didn't answer mine." Natasha stood completely still, waiting, and silence passed between them for a long moment before John finally sighed loudly, running a hand through his hair while still not looking at her.

"You were in danger." John's words were blunt, emotionless, and his eyes were cast down at the world map sprawled across his desk. Natasha scoffed out a laugh, shaking her head. That drew John's eyes up, and they were dark with anger.

"Danger? I'm in danger here!" Natasha held up her wrists and watched John's eyes flash between the two circles of raw flesh.

"The men will not bother you anymore. You have my word."