Chapter Text
The sun shone brightly, warm and kind, as Iris stood on her balcony and looked out over Nassau.
The town below bustled with midday business. She could hear merchants crowing, people bartering, the soft strains of a merry song plucked on a distant guitar.
And surrounding it all, larger than life itself, was the sea. Sparkling and clear and blue as a sapphire.
A warm breeze stirred the palm leaves of a nearby tree. Iris closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of salt.
Some might say Nassau was a place of villainy, a den of sin peopled by the worst of humanity. But in Iris’s eyes, there was no better town in all the world.
Especially on days like this one, when a certain ship docked in the harbor. These precious days when he would at last come home to her.
The sails were just now coming into view. The ship was still distant, but Iris could see a dark speck standing atop the bowsprit. In her mind’s eye she could picture him, shirt mussed, hair tossed by the wind, one hand holding tight onto the rigging, the other shielding his eyes from the sun so he could stare up at this very balcony.
Iris found she couldn’t stop smiling.
“Iris?” a voice called from behind her.
Iris turned.
Allegra, the keeper of her accounts, stepped out next to her. “The captain of the Rogue wants a meeting. He claims he has a raid planned, says it will acquire certain items of great value.”
Iris rolled her eyes. “If Snart already has the raid planned, why does he need to speak with us?”
“Well, he didn’t share that information.”
Iris gripped the railing. Of course he hadn’t.
“But,” Allegra continued, “If I had to guess, I’d say he does not have the funds to carry out his plans. There’s a rumor that the Rogue was somewhat more damaged than it appeared last month, and that at least one of their long guns won’t fire. He probably wishes for some sort of advance on the potential profits.”
Yes, Iris had heard that rumor too. “So he expects us to help foot the bill for a raid that he likely doesn’t know if he can execute,” Iris said, voice tight.
Allegra shrugged. “The Rogue is well known for its success. Might be good for us to keep it’s captain happy.”
Iris snorted. “Snart is more trouble than he’s worth. His eyes are always bigger than his stomach. He takes risks he doesn’t need to, simply because of his own greed.”
“Well,” Allegra cut in. “That could honestly describe most of Nassau’s captains.”
Iris stared out at the water again, at the ship making its way to the docks. At the faint figure she could picture gazing up at her.
A small smile lit her face. “Yes. But there are men who turn pirate for other reasons,” she said softly.
She could see the crew disembarking, getting into smaller boats and rowing toward shore.
He would likely be in her bedroom within the hour.
Allegra followed her gaze to the harbor, grinned in understanding. “Ah, I see. Trying to keep a clear schedule while the Lightning is docked with us?”
Iris laughed a bit. “I shouldn’t even try to deny it, should I?”
“No, probably not,” Allegra said conspiratorially.
Iris tried to draw her head back into business. “Can you tell Snart he can bring his proposal to me later? And try your best to hold off other business for the next three days at least.”
Her friend nodded. “I’ll distract him somehow. And I’ll have Kamilla open one of the bottles of that honey mead you like.”
Iris smiled in gratitude. “Thank you.”
She nodded, and with a smile, left Iris to her own thoughts.
She looked to the shoreline again. She could see him more clearly now, cutting a dashing figure against the water as he stood at the prow of the ship.
Iris quickly turned, went through the double doors into her bedchamber. He’d be disembarking soon. She only had a few minutes to lace herself into her best dress.
Her feet carried her down the stairs from her rooms, through the crowded rambunctiousness of the Weary Citizen. This tavern was her home, her pride and joy. But right now, her shoes barely seemed to touch the ground.
Iris ran out into the sunlight, through the busy cobblestone streets. She could hear a half hundred voices chattering around her, bartering, gossiping, fighting. But nothing on this earth would make her stop now.
Soon enough her feet hit sand. Her heels sank a bit under the give of it, but she continued on. She could hear the crashing waves, the swell of the sea. Iris scrambled up the dunes, came to the shoreline.
And there he was.
He stood at the front of the small boat rowing its way to shore, his long legs braced against the roll of the sea. His short auburn hair was tossed by the wind, his angular cheeks sun-bronzed. He smiled when he saw Iris, dancing eyes finding her own.
It had been a long time. Too long.
Iris found herself rushing forward. He leapt from the boat to meet her, his boots splashing in the surf.
On many other shores, this would be impossible. But this was Nassau, where the laws of empires couldn’t touch them.
They crashed into each other’s arms, their lips met. He tasted like sun, like salt.
She grinned as they parted, brought her arms up high to wind them around his neck.
His smile grew wider. “Iris ,” he breathed out, like a prayer.
She ran a hand through his sun-kissed hair. “Welcome home, Bartholomew Allen.”