This is something related to something that I have written up on a NC in my inventory for something that may or may not one day happen depending on various, ehm, variables, I suppose. I know that makes little sense, but I also know there's at least one person reading who'll understand, but else, I know I make little sense most often anyhow, so I apologize.
I work at one of the more 'fancy' sort of inns. It doubles as a tavern, yes, but for the right coin we wash clothes and such of those staying as well. My life is fairly simple, and I like it that way, always have, even though it has been disrupted once I would love for it to never be disrupted again.
I slip outside through the back, a bundle of clothes in my arms, set them down, then get to work with washing them. I'm used to hard work and honest living, which is what I strive to have since a long while. After all, if you aren't living honest then is there much of a point to living at all? I've been called 'stiff' by some of the regulars, but I don't see it. I work hard and try to do my best in life, and I make sure the gods know I try to do as they would wish, but how does that make me stiff? Just because I do not wish to become drunk and pass out on a floor does not mean I am stiff. I may be near enough to being damned, but that isn't enough to make me do silly things. And, besides, if I did such things I wouldn't be able to afford my own small hut; I'd have to live in the tavern with some of the others. I used to, yes, but after a good few years of work, I've managed to save up enough. Some extra I have I like to send home, just in case my family could need it.
After thoroughly washing the clothes, and hanging them up to dry, I go inside to help serve some of the patrons, as well as clean up a bit more. While I'm best at baking, that's not my duty for the day. The sun goes through the sky, soon enough the moon rising with the stars accompanying it as good friends do.
I blow some of my hair out of my face, and look around at the night crowd as I take a brief, leaning against the wall only, break. I've been working nearly non-stop all day and, while I could have quit for the day a while ago, it's best if I work longer...especially if I want to keep sending money home.
That's when I spot him.
My breath catches in my throat and my eyes widen as I watch a man, most definitely a pirate, walk in. He used to only have stubble on his face, but now it is a true beard; no wonder since it has been a few years since I last saw him. Thinking I must be wrong, I push off the wall and walk over to see what they'd like to drink. His voice only confirms my suspicion...and the amulet around his neck all the more. I smile pleasantly and head back to the counter to put the ordered drinks onto a platter, feeling tears prick my eyes and anger swell up in me. The amulet...the little wooden circle with magic symbols carved around the edges. He's the man who stole it from me. He may be the man who saved me, by pure chance, but he also took that precious item from me as 'payment'.
I'm a bit slow as I have to recollect myself and serve others as well, but as I watch him out of the corner of my eye, how he interacts with whatever woman who gets into arm's distance, I get an idea.
As the night wears on, the captain gets all the more drunk and 'friendly'.
"I'm a captain, ye know. You're not my usual type, but maybe ye'd like to come see me ship?," he asks, his arm around me and his lips close to my ear. I have to fight back the urge to gag.
"I love to," I respond, smiling to him, and, with that, we get up and leave the inn. I already finished my work for the night anyway, so at least it is not as if I'm passing my work off to someone else. I almost pause as I see the ship, it being the same as the one I had found myself on when I was eighteen. I'd rather not go on it, but if I want to get my necklace back after all this time, what choice do I have?
He leads me by the hand to his quarters, closes the door and goes to face his bed, starting to unbutton his clothes. He says something about working on my clothes in a moment, but I'm only half listening, my eyes moving around the room until they land on a telescope, that looks heavy enough. It's a hand held one, but it has enough weight on it as I realize when I pick it up and open it to its full length. "Take your time, it'll give more time for my thoughts to grow," I murmur softly in response. After taking a deep breath, I step over behind him and swing with all my might. He falls over onto his bed with a thump, and I allow myself to relax slightly then. I carefully roll him over as quickly as I can with his weight being more than mine, and pull his legs up onto the bed. The necklace lays against his bared chest. It's not as if I want the necklace for its purpose, not even the sentimental value it holds, but because I wish to bury it. The one who gave it to me, because of how his death came about, he was never able to be properly buried nor burned; the necklace must do. Once I hold the necklace in my hands again, I feel a smile form on my lips. I might have to leave the place I've made my home in for years because of this, but third time is the charm with everything, yes? Once I bury this and before tomorrow is over, I will move on again. Or, perhaps, I will send this necklace home for my family to bury or do as they wish with it. It would be better for it to be at home, even if around my brother's or sister's neck.
Now, to get off this ship before the captain wakes up or any of the crew happen to wonder if he really did pass out because of too many drinks....