Nestor leaned back against the side of the ship. The air had the bite to it he normally associated with winter, but he just drew his jacket further around him. Inside the ship had grown crowded ever since Geralt had woken up, with many of the crew hiding in the city sneaking out to visit.

“Hey, Nestor! Is that you?”

He started, looking up to see a cloaked figure with a mask in the shape of an eagle walking towards him.

Samuel. Another of the crewmates and someone Nestor hadn’t seen in…months? Skies, had they really been trapped in Skystead for that long?

Nestor clamored to his feet. “Sam! It’s good to see you.”

Samuel shook his head. “Been a wild season, right? I’d heard that you got yourself captured, didn’t think I’d be seeing you for a good while yet! In fact, that’s your first jailbreak, isn’t it? Well, done!” He grabbed Nestor in a headlock and ruffled his hair.

“‘Course I would have gotten out much quicker, but we’ll cut you some slack for your first time. Now where’s Geralt?”

Nestor pointed at the ship. “Probably trying to escape the bunk room again.”

“Can’t keep that man down,” Samuel chuckled. “Good to see ya, buddy.” He hopped onto the deck and disappeared through the hatch.

Nestor settled back into his spot just to the side of the navigation windows. Geralt would probably be desperate to escape the onslaught of people by now. While social, he did much better in small groups than he did in crowds.

He was just on the verge of dozing off when the creak of the trapdoor opening startled him. He glanced up--expecting to see Sameul, or perhaps one of the other crewmates, but instead a woman with dark hair and a mask that covered the lower half of her face was emerging.

“I thought you might be out here,” Athera said.

Nestor blinked. “Is something wrong? Do they need me inside?” he stood. What if Geralt had taken a turn for the worse?

Athera held up her hands in a calming gesture as she shook her head. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just noticed you weren’t with the others.”

“Oh.” Nestor settled back down. “The ship gets stuffy when everyone is on it. I thought I’d give everyone some space.”

“Didn’t you live on this thing?”

There was a marked difference between a ship in flight where the winds themselves seemed to flow through the hallways and one stuck to the ground like an abandoned boot. Still, Nestor shrugged. “I guess I just got used to having less people around.”

Although he couldn’t see her, he could hear Athera’s sigh. She leapt off the deck suddenly, ignoring the ladder that no one but Elijah seemed to use these days. “Mind if I sit here?” she asked, gesturing to a spot beside Nestor.

He shrugged and she settled down beside them.

A strangely tense silence filled the air, broken only by the sound of the hippogriff Athera had brought tearing grass up.

“I still haven’t thanked you for saving Geralt,” Nestor said finally.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Athera shrug. “He saved me and Tarquin, it was the least I could do.” Her tone was almost too nonchalant, but he shook it off.

The silence stretched on further and he debated claiming that he was too cold. Skies, what did she want? He glanced over at her, only to find that she had started braiding some blades of grass together.

“I’ve missed being outside,” Athera said when she caught his gaze. “I’ve been inside for too long lately.” she hesitated. “Maybe I should take the griffins on an extra long flight tonight, the babies are old enough to start learning to fly.”

Right. Her griffin. The same one they had stolen in the first place. “Sorry about that,” Nestor said.

Athera frowned. “Sorry for wh--oh, no, I didn’t mean..” she trailed off. Across from them the hippogriff gave a contented chip as it apparently found grass to its liking.

“You’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you?” Athera asked softly. Her tone wasn’t accusatory, it almost wasn’t a question, but that made it feel so much worse.

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” Nestor tried for a confident sounding laugh, but it came out weak and pitiful. “There’s been a lot going on is all.”

“Nestor. The first time I saw you in years, you literally ran away.”

He swallowed. “I thought you were dead. You can hardly blame me for being surprised.”

Athera nodded and set down her braided grass. “And I shouldn’t have sprung things on you like that, but why are you avoiding everyone now? It’s not just me, Sylvie was looking for you earlier.”

He opened his mouth to tell Athera that Sylvie and the entire crew knew where to find him if they so choose, but he couldn’t quite form the words. Instead he picked his own blades of grass and began to wind them together.

“Look,” Athera said as she started to stand. “You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to. I know this is a lot, but don’t start ignoring your crew because of it.”

“Athera, wait.”

She stopped and fixed him with an expectant stare. He was struck in that moment how familiar her eyes seemed. Were they like his mother’s? Or maybe their father’s?

“What were mum and dad like?”

She froze and then settled back in the grass. “How much do you remember?”

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“I don’t know,” he whispered. “I don’t know how much is real and how much I’ve imagined.”

“Well…dad looked a lot like you, actually.”

“So I’ve heard,” Nestor shuddered as he remembered Alaric watching him with that almost hungry glint in his eyes. Athera’s expression fell and he forced the disgusted look off his face. “What about mum? Did she look like you?”

Her fingers twitched for the side of her neck and face. “I don’t think so,” she said through half closed eyes. “She was beautiful. She had darker hair than we do, and her smile could light up a room.”

Nestor nodded, trying to get his fuzzy memories to clear. He could almost see his mother, pouring over a dusty old book while a tall man stirred a pot of something over the fire.

“They were both so smart,” Athera said fondly. “You already know they were alchemists, but they were the best. The guild usually meant at our home.”

Right, the same home that had gone up in flames. The one that he had destroyed.

“They--Nestor, what’s wrong?”

Athera was staring at him.

Nestor drew in a deep breath before he realized his eyes were stinging. “I’m so sorry, Athera.”

“What do you mean? What’s wrong?”

“It’s my fault they’re gone,” he whispered. “It’s all my fault.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Athera gave a nervous laugh. “It was a freak accident. I’m just sorry I didn’t know you survived.”

“No, it’s worse than that.” Nestor clenched his fists and turned to Athera. “There’s something I need to tell you.” He told her. Told her about how he had snuck out of bed that night to look at the object their parents had forbidden them to touch, told her about the explosion and the flames that had raced up the steam pipe. He finished with how he had fled, not even thinking to try and save his family.

“Don’t you see?” he was nearly pleading with Athera whose face had become unreadable to him. “It’s my fault we’re orphans!”

“Oh, Nestor,” Athera choked out. Before he could respond she had seized him in a hug. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is though,” he mumbled into her shoulder. “If I had just stayed in bed…”

“You were eight years old,” Athera whispered. She held him closer before finally releasing him. “You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“I’m not a good person,” he choked out.

Athera shook her head vehemently. “That’s not true. You’re loyal to your friends and protective and clever.”

“I’m a pirate. I got Sylvie captured by her deranged uncle, I steal things, and…” he swallowed carefully to keep the sob that threatened to escape buried. “I got Amos killed.”

“Nestor…” Athera reached out to hug him again and then seemed to think better of it. “I’m proud of you,” she said finally. “I think mum and dad would be too.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” he laughed dryly. It wasn’t fair to chide her, she had already lost so much because of him.

“Well, it’s true,” Athera said decisively. They fell back into silence, but it didn’t seem as hollow as it had before.

A shout of laughter rang out from somewhere in the navigation room and Athera started. “Your crew is loud,” she said, scooting slightly away from the window.

Nestor smiled in spite of himself. “They’re excited.”

“And loud.”

Across the clearing from them, the hippogriff snorted. “See, even Leather agrees.”

“Leather?” Maybe it was a good thing Geralt had been the one to name the griffin kits.

“I didn’t name him,” Athera said quickly. “He’s from my village. He actually belongs to the woman who owns the catalyst.” The hippogriff slowly looked up from the grass and stared at them.

Nestor leaned away, feeling the hair on the back of his neck start to stand up. “He’s…different from the griffins,” he said at last. The creature snorted and went back to rooting around for grass.

“That he is,” Athera agreed. “It took Tarquin a long time to get used to him.”

“And you?”

Athera flashed him a tired grin. “I’ve got my griffins.” She sighed as she looked back at the creature. “Come on, it’s getting cold out here.” She offered him her hand and he reluctantly took it.

The ship was significantly warmer inside. Chatter seemed to echo through the hallway, mostly coming from the navigation room. Athera broke off from Nestor when he turned towards it and he stopped.

“Are you not coming in?”

She shook her head. “I’ve been living in the woods for eight years,” she said. “I don’t love crowds of people.” With that she headed for the tailend of the ship where the griffins were kept.

Nestor just shook his head and braced himself as he stepped into the room.

Nearly the entire crew had gathered. Elijah stood next to a couple of pots and dishes of food that had been prepared for the occasion. The moment he caught sight of Nestor, he beckoned him over while holding a cup of something slightly fizzy aloft.

“Boy, come get something to eat, I didn’t see you at breakfast this morning.” He handed Nestor a cup of steaming soup and fluffy bread that no one on the crew had the skill to make. A gift brought or taken from the city.

Nestor scanned the gathered crew. Aurelia and a couple of the others were chatting next to the large view window. Aurelia glanced in his direction and turned her head pointedly away.

“Don’t worry about her,” Elijah said softly. “She’s always been a stubborn one.”

“I’m not,” Nestor assured him.

Samuel was in the center of the room, swaying slightly on his feet and laughing. He held a mug of something bubbling and had his arm firmly wrapped around Geralt who kept trying to edge away.

“This man,” Samuel laughed. “Absolute legend. When are you planning on selling the little beasties anyway?”

“Sam, get off me,” Geralt protested as he ducked out from under Samuel’s arm. He looked much better than the last time Nestor had seen him. Although he had lost some weight and was a bit paler than he had been before, he was standing on his own feet and trying to eat an apple.

“Have it your way,” Samuel said happily. He took another deep sip from his mug. “We should all hit up a tavern,” he said thoughtfully.

“There’s too many of us, you idiot,” another of Nestor’s crewmates he hadn’t seen in months chided him.

“Maybe just me and you, Sara?” he said with a raised eyebrow.

She slapped him across the face, but her grin reflected Samuel’s own.

A smile was threatening to tug at Nestor’s mouth as well. It was like they had just finished a raid, all they were missing was Amos grouching at everyone to not make a mess. His smile slipped from his face as quickly as it had started.

Amos. They hadn’t even been able to celebrate their latest raid before everything had happened.

“Have I told you that the people you live with are loud?” Sylvie was standing beside him, regarding the room with a half raised eyebrow.

“I thought you wanted to join us. Don’t tell me a little noise is enough to scare you off.”

Sylvie rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “Whatever. Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you all morning.”

“Just outside,” Nestor said shortly.

Sylvie nodded, a slight grin beginning to appear on her lips. “See? It’s too loud for you too.” She glanced back to where Samuel was loudly explaining how to pickpocket. “Is he…always like that?”

“Just when there’s something to celebrate,” Nestor said.

From across the room, Geralt caught his eye and started making his way over. “You two, outside now,” he said.

“Wait, Geralt, you just--” Nestor started.

Geralt was already shaking his head. “I will go crazy if I have to spend another minute listening to Samuel’s escapades. Outside now.” He started off for the hatch, but Nestor couldn’t help but notice the way he kept one hand trailing against the wall for support.