Rove
The Twisting Straits, East of the Grasping Isle
[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/554030201789743105/1028654515798409237/Grasping_Isle_Final_V1.0.png]
Map made by Mark Evegaars, writer of this story
Short Summary previous chapter: After traveling together for so long, the tension between Ayuen and Rove finally broke. Ayuen made the first move, which Rove reciprocated. After an intense first time, they continued to speak about their travels and plans for a while. They agreed to be partners, but giving each other enough space to do what they needed/wanted to do after their mission is finished. Ayuen even offered for Rove to be transported back to the Grasping Isle if he wanted to in the future. For now, they're both happy they found a kindred spirit in the other and are enjoying their first days as a couple.
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Leaning over the rail of the Yearning Maiden, Rove looked out over the ocean while the waves hit the ship with a calming cadence. His thoughts jumped from place to place, much like the waves crashing into the ship and disappearing into the blue yonder. They had been travelling on the water for a couple of days now since they had left the small port of Fool’s Point. His thoughts had been strangely cosy for the last while. Regularly, his mind crept back to Ayuen. That morning after he’d visited her at the inn, he’d found the woman still cuddled up against him, sleeping steadily with her head on his chest, her wings covering the both of them and a warm smile plastered across her face. It took him a precious number of seconds to fully remember what had transpired the night before, a sense of involuntary pride and adoration washing over him the moment he did remember.
Ayuen looked divinely gorgeous at that moment, her whole self seemingly at ease for the first time in a long while.
Like he discovered a while back, he genuinely had feelings for her. Much to his surprise if he was being honest. After looking at her for a bit, Rove had tried to get out of bed without waking her. Turned out that getting out of bed while wrapped up in wings and with your limbs all entangled in a mess was nearly impossible. For a moment, he thought he’d done it after a full ten minutes of slow progress. That was until he noticed Ayuen looking at him through half-closed eyes, a mischievous smile visible around those full lips. His cheeks were red as the sun rose through their window as he had gotten up. Her eyes didn’t leave him even once as he hurriedly got dressed. Ayuen took her time observing him not many any attempts anymore to hide her attraction. She lay naked on the bed on her stomach, and her wings lazily flapped on her back like the tail of a satisfied cat. Blazes be damned, if somebody told him that he would be in that kind of situation a month prior, he’d laugh right in that person’s face and offer him a one-way trip to the nearest healer. Ever since that wondrous night with her though, their relationship towards each other had taken a turn for the warm and positive. The two of them had set aside their differences now, taking the other’s views into kind consideration. It wasn’t an instant well-rounded relationship by any stretch of the word, but when was that ever the case? There was plenty of flirting going around anyway. Plus, sharing the bed with her the last couple of days had been both relaxing and had provided them both with a good bit of exercise. They settled in a rather equal relationship, each of them taking turns spoiling the other, leaving them both satisfied.
And well, seeing Trïeste and Sneak looking all confused about why they were that friendly towards one another all of a sudden had proven to be quite the amusing turn too. Rove did imagine that Trïeste knew what had happened between him and the Pyrn woman. Or otherwise would catch on in the next couple of days.
The sounds of conversation behind him stirred him from his thoughts and he saw Ayuen and Mearn step onto the deck from below. Ayuen’s and his eyes met, and her eyes glimmered as she saw him. She gave Rove a cheerful and friendly smile, one that he didn’t know she could do just a few days ago. Somewhat sheepishly, he smiled back with equal warmth. He wasn’t all that well-versed with women. Ayuen knew that. Blazes, Mearn knew that. Tended to tease him with it too all the bloody time. But it didn’t matter to Ayuen. She liked him all the same, even if he wasn’t a charming diplomatic princeling.
Rove wondered if Ayuen had told Mearn about their little night together. That ought to shut her up about that particular subject. Oh, who was he kidding? The conniving Herhhor vixen would have a dozen other things to poke fun about.
A rhythmic ticking on the deck behind him preceded old man’s Bren’s arrival at the rail next to the Herhor. The old man looked over the water for a moment, his grey beard flapping comically in the wind, much like the flag adorning the top of the ship’s mast.
“So, lad. Y’got everythin’ for yer trip?” The old man asked eventually, his stern eyes still focused on the waves. “Ye got a tough task ahead of ye. Even somebody like ye is bound to run into trouble.”
They had told Brenstead what their plan was. The poet had also opened up to him, Ayuen also sharing some details that were new to him after the both of them had gotten dressed. There was a chance that her parents could be used as hostages as they had been caught by the city guard mere moments after Ayuen had made her escape. Additionally, the one that most likely caught them was an old friend of Ayuen’s. Or rather ex-friend if the melancholy in Ayuen’s voice had been any indication. There was some bad blood between those two, but Ayuen didn’t want to elaborate too much except that it happened somewhere in their youth. Put that together with the probability that his mother could’ve sent more foes to Marlight to halt them, and you had a huge challenge that they had to work their way through. To be fair, it was going to take an astronomical amount of luck and planning to even have a ghost of a chance to get out alive, let alone succeed. Rove shook his head and narrowed his eyes, frowning angrily at the ocean. They knew that from the start, but even with their luck seemingly holding up decently, he wasn’t looking forward to things.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“To get everything in order as I would like it would take up another month at the very least. We don’t have that time, unfortunately, so we’ll have to make do with what we have now.”
He scoffed. “We’ll have to rely on our ability to improvise and adapt. Hope that we can sneak about unseen, make some allies inside the city and strike while the bronze is still hot. It’s not impossible, especially with Ayuen and Trïeste being locals. But still...”
Rove’s voice trailed away when he thought about the plan in his head once more.
“Sounds like yer odds aren’t with ye on this one.”
The old trader sounded empathetic, although he also heard a certain confidence in his voice. Confidence that Rove wasn’t completely sharing. He chucked and sighed, leaning a bit more on the railing as he spotted a group of flying fish leap from the water. He’d never seen those, so his attention was briefly on them before he continued the conversation.
“They certainly aren’t, old man. With the way we’ve burned through multiple lifetimes of luck, I’ll probably return with at least one arm missing. Maybe a few fingers too, for good measure.”
“Hah! Maybe yer new flame can fix those up for ye after yer done!”
Rove gave the grinning trader some stink-eye. “Maybe you should start finding somebody that can sow a tongue back in that cavernous mouth of yours after I chop it out from there.”
With a final ‘Heh’, Brenstead clapped a hand on his shoulder, turning around to walk back towards his champers. “Just do as ye normally do, lad. Ye haven’t got yer rep fer nothin’. I’ll be damned if ye wouldn’t make it work somehow.”
The man’s eyes fell on the two women chatting near the ship’s stern. “Ye got quite some allies with ye this time, lad. Trust the words of this here old man. Yer companions are goin’ make the difference. Call it an old wart’s intuition, heh. Plus, ye got some lovely nights with your poet in store to motivate ye.”
With one final nod and a grin, the walking beard with a heap of gold hobbled off below the deck, leaving Rove there on the deck, silently cursing the trader with a smile plastered across his face.
The man was right. They were four of them. A large enough group to get something done, and small enough to be stealthy about it. Ideally, they didn’t have to fight anyone. Ayuen, together with the Dawn fruit thing, had to get to her clan leader's corpse and revive him. If they went about this the right way, they should be able to do what they needed to do without any drawn arms. If arms were drawn en masse, they would have a major problem on their hands. He and Trïeste were good fighters, with Ayuen being able to provide some good backup. He hadn’t seen much from Sneak, but his reaction speed and the actions he took straight after Trïeste’s betrayal came to light did suggest some things. Made it seem that the old lunatic should be able to hold his own, at least for a little while. The biggest problem was the location. They were going to infiltrate a capital city. If they would be against, say, a small mercenary band; that would be fine. However, against several platoons of city guards, they wouldn’t stand a chance. Not for long. They’d get overwhelmed before they knew it.
Now, he wasn’t the most stealthy person around. His forte was fighting, planning and talking people down. Ayuen and Trïeste would most likely be fine due to Marlight being their ground turf. Sneak, on the other hand, he wasn’t so sure about. Trïeste had assured him she would keep him in check, but one little fuck-up and the gig was up. They’d be put six feet under with their enemies laughing their asses off above them.
Rove’s eyes darted towards the hatch going below decks. Maybe it was a good idea to pay the lunatic a visit himself. With a grunt, he pushed himself upright and walked towards the hatch. Before he went in, he allowed himself one more glance towards Ayuen. She was chatting merrily with Mearn, chuckling at an unheard comment the warrior woman made. The poet looked very pretty when she was relaxed. Pity that soon that smile would be forced off her face when they would go about completing their mission. Hopefully, it would return soon after.
Rove turned his eyes towards the dark gap in front of him. Carefully, he descended into the damp, creaking belly of the ship. Slowly, he made his way through the wooden lantern-lit corridor to the bunks Trïeste and Sneak used.
“…-nd why wouldn’t you use a blade, you halfwit?” The annoyed voice of Trïeste reached his ears even before he saw his companions. Did Sneak get on her nerves again? She better not cut him up. The half-Vysari woman might have reclaimed most of Sneak’s and Ayuen’s trust, but his trust wasn’t so easily regained after doing what she did. He found the door ajar and opted to listen in on the conversation.
“Swords are weird, Sneak thinks. Sneak told you before!”
Sneak’s voice was loud, sounding more high-pitched and panicky than usual.
“Makes Sneak feel all tingly and wavey. Like grass before the rocks smash it to bits.”
“You know you’re not makin’ any sense, right? Just tell me why you’re not using a longer blade. Those daggers of yours ain’t going to be enough, Sneak.”
“Sneak told you. All tingly.”
Trïeste sighed heavily and was rummaging through something on the other side of the wooden walls. “Arals be damned.” Rove heard her mutter, after which she raised her voice again. “Rove, maybe you can help? I know you’re eavesdroppin’.”
Damn it, guess he got caught. With a small smirk on his face, he stepped inside.
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By Pawel Norbert, Unsplash Licence