Archive of Our Own ^beta

Emma has often been told she’s a natural pirate.

She’s fought like the armies of Oblivion were at her heel, drank herself silly more times than she can count, lied, stolen, conned, danced–she’s seen everything the sea can throw at a person and then some.

Alas, there’s a reason sailors are so often told never to underestimate the ferocity of the ocean, because for all her experience Emma has never seen waves like this before. Where on most evenings there would be dancing and mead, tonight there’s sea water. A lot of it. And worst of all, a panicking crew.

“Stick to yer stations lads!”

Jolene’s voice was barely audible over the rain crashing against the deck. Emma craned her head to see her, but only was able to catch a glimpse of pale orange hair before a particularly large wave sent her sister sprawling toward the edge of the deck.

“Jolene!” she screamed, struggling to keep ahold of the steering wheel, now slick with rain and seawater. Managing to wrap her legs around the steering column like a koala, Emma used every bit of her strength to wrench the wheel in the opposing direction, barely managing to right the ship.

“Any more o’ dis and we’re capsized!” Emma yelled to the crew, all of which were in varying states of disarray. An unlucky few were slumped against the walls, blood seeping from their wounds to mix with the saltwater underfoot.

The rest were scattered about, wrestling with the rigging both to steer the ship and hold themselves upright. Jolene was making her way toward them, limping badly. She seemed to yell something as she caught Emma’s eye, but it was impossible to hear her over the waves crashing against the hull.

Though they were all fighting their hardest, Emma’s gut twisted. She knew their ship as well as she knew herself, and it wasn’t made for this weather. Wave after wave carried debris, trees, rocks, even pieces of the hull as it splintered apart under the onslaught.

Looking into the distance, Emma froze–headed toward their starboard side was the biggest wave she’d ever seen, and there wasn’t time to maneuver away from it.

She could tell the crew had seen it too, because suddenly her men were abandoning the rigging and sprinting for cover. Jolene remained where she was, too badly injured to make it in time and too stubborn to give up all hope. Her sister stared down the wave with an expression of defiance.

Emma swallowed, continuing to wrestle with the wheel in hopes they’d turn enough that the wave would hit them diagonally rather than entirely on one side. There was always a chance, and if they capsized she didn’t know if any of them would survive in these conditions–the shore wasn’t far, but it was unforgiving terrain, jagged rocks and sheer cliff faces.

They’d be lucky to make it there at all, much less survive the process.

The wave was nearly upon them now. Its approach was deafening, heralded by thunder and the crash of smaller waves against the stern. Emma braced for impact, squeezing her eyes shut–

And suddenly, it stopped.

All in a moment, the ocean was still, the previously squalling wind reduced to a placid breeze. A lone seagull squawked overhead and then fell silent.

For a reason she couldn’t quite fathom, Emma’s blood ran cold. Hesitantly, she opened her eyes to discover that the storm had entirely disappeared–the water was as calm as she’d ever seen it. Even the sky was cloudless. But it was so quiet.

Her unease remained as Jolene broke into a brilliant smile, clasping arms with their crewmates and celebrating their mutual brush with death in the way pirates always do.

“Emma!” she yelled, waving merrily. “C’mere, we made it! I know ye always like the celebratin’ bit…”

Emma laughed uneasily.

Everything was perfect, save for the ice splintering in Emma’s veins. It was like waiting for a pin to drop–Jolene seemed so happy though, and she couldn’t spoil it for her.

“I’ll come down in a sec, once our course’s all set,” she said with a forced smile. As Emma’s eyes drifted to the horizon, it finally dawned on her. This scene was familiar. She knew just where to look to see what came next.

Three, two, one…

As if on cue, a rotten, creaking old ship leapt from the water, leaving the sea bizarrely undisturbed in its wake. The sound of singing and laughter spilled from its deck, full to bursting with battle-ready sailors–no, warriors. These men were armed to the teeth, brandishing spears and axes that already dripped with blood.

But they weren’t men. Not anymore, at least. She had seen this all before; the Lost Companions were finally here to claim their due.

The ghostly sailors were upon them before she could react, indiscriminately slicing through the crew and tossing the dead into the sea. It felt like time slowed as they reached Jolene, slowed…

—

Emma’s eyes shot open, darting around frantically in her dark room. One hand shot to her belt before she faltered, realizing where she was.

It was that Gods-forsaken nightmare again.

Every time, like some demented playback of their pirate days, where all she could do was watch as Jolene died, over and over and over. And when she woke, all she had to show for it was sweat-soaked bed sheets and a lingering terror that wouldn’t fade for hours yet.

The only thing that helped was… well, it was a bit sentimental. And altogether impractical. She was a hardened criminal, there was no reason she should–

Emma extricated herself from her blanket, silently padding over to the door and down the hallway. She opened her sister’s door ever-so-quietly, peering inside to reveal a peacefully slumbering (and very much safe) Jolene.

Heaving a deep, relieved sigh, she allowed the door to close behind her as she returned to her room. So long as her and her sister were safe, Emma was happy, whether they were pirates or not.