Work Text:
Tristan had expected the ship they were raiding to be large, after all, it was one of the largest ships and crews out on the seas. The Inspection was notorious among seafaring folk for kidnapping children and holding them hostage, though they used the cover of Scientific Experimentation to get around and get funding.
But Tristan wouldn't be taking them down. Word on the streets was that the ship had already been taken down, washed up on some lone beach on a small island with the entirety of the crew found dead. No one wanted to go near it in fear of the creatures that might lie within, but Bee had insisted they give it a shot.
So here he was, sword strapped to his hip as he and Anastasia took a small rowboat from the main ship anchored several feet away from the island, the large, looming, wrecked Inspection sitting slightly tilted as it was docked on the beach, the sails scorched and burned and bodies in both the water and spread out on the beach with no way of knowing how many more were still on the ship.
"I'm glad we didn't bring Bee, she wouldn't be able to stomach all this," Anastasia mused, looking out over the water with her chin up. Stasia had never been one who was disturbed at the sight of mass death, which Tristan was grateful for so he could take someone with him on missions like this.
While Bee was wonderful to have around, she wasn't up for witnessing the violence that comes with the life on the open ocean, the poor honeybee was too much of a pacifist. And on the other hand, Allium never liked to leave the lower decks. Tristan wasn't sure what Allium was, just that they were a good repairmen. They didn't even speak English, even with Tristan attempting to teach them the language. So bringing Stasia along for these types of things was the safe bet.
"As much as she advocated for this mission, I agree, she wouldn't be able to handle it," Tristan mumbled in response as he pushed and pulled the oars to propel the boat forward.
"What even happened here?" Stasia asked, her voice breaking into an inquisitive tone as she backed away from the edge of the boat as a small spray of water splashed up, "I thought The Inspection was one of the most untouchable ships out here."
Tristan heaved the oars back again as they got closer to shore, "According to the information from the sole survivor who had the common sense to get out at the first sign of trouble, one of the captives aboard the ship got loose and absolutely tore into everything and everyone in sight. Made for a bumpy docking."
"I'm sorry, one of the captives?" Stasia laughed in that tone she had where she could seem impressed or stunned, he was never sure which it was. Though the slightly raised brow in her expression made the tone lean towards stunned. " One person took out the entire crew?"
"That's what the story says. If we can find any survivors we can ask them ourselves," Tristan shrugged. The boat jostled a little as it hit the sand of the shore, and he placed the oars at the bottom of the rowboat under the seats.
" If we find survivors, my dear Tristan, if ." Stasia hummed in response, "let's not forget to entertain the idea that no one will be out here alive ."
Stepping out of the boat, Tristan trudged through the shallow water along the shore to the front of the boat, holding a hand out for Stasia. Her hand met his, and she used her other hand to hike up her skirt, the flowing fabric bunching up so it wouldn't get wet. Her wings flapped a little as he helped her out of the boat, keeping her out of the water.
Once the two were both on solid ground again, Tristan let go of her hand, and the two walked side by side as they headed up towards the ruins of the boat.
The ship itself seemed to still be in good condition, so it would have been recent, at least within the last good couple of weeks, if not a few months ago if their source was right. The only real damage was the splintered wood from the crash into the shore, and the torn and burnt sails. Getting onto The Inspection wasn't too much of a problem either, since he had brought rope with him.
Tristan unraveled the coiled rope with the grapple on the end and tossed it several good feet into the air, the metal hook going over the railing of the deck and catching on the edge. He gave it a few tugs before he nodded, motioning for Stasia to go up the rope first.
"My, what a gentlemen," Stasia hummed with a slight smile as she gripped the rope. Despite wearing a skirt, she managed to get up the rope without much issue, and Tristan went up right behind her.
His boots echoed as he jumped onto the deck of the ship. Already, he could smell the rot of death everywhere, and while he coughed a little at the smell, Stasia seemed to have no reaction. Benefits of being an undead fairy, he assumed.
"I'll check the lower decks and the brigs, if you want to check the upper deck and cabins," Tristan offered, heading for the stairwell that led to below deck. Stasia was right behind him.
"You're going to leave a poor defenseless girl all on her own?" She pouted, but Tristan rolled his eyes when he recognized that teasing inflection in her voice.
"You and I both know you don't need me to protect you," He told her, looking back at her.
She laughed darkly, gripping the sword hilt at her waist, the scabbard for said sword hidden beneath the ruffled layers of added fabric to her skirt, the hilt just barely poking out just enough for her to grab when she needed it. "Ah you know me too well, Tristan."
Before he knew it, the two were split up with the promise of returning to the main deck within twenty minutes, the both of them lighting a lantern to see in the darkened ship. Just as he expected, Tristan found a few bodies rotting away along hallways leading down to the brig in the lower deck. He used his foot to turn over one body to get a good look, moving the man from laying on his stomach to laying on his back, and lowered his light to see better.
The man's eyes were blank, lifeless, and yet still held a lingering look of fear even weeks or months after death. A bruise was still visible on his forehead, either from an attack to his side or from when he fell to the ground, could have hit the wall or some sort of corner on his way down. Dried blood covered his clothes, which were still mostly intact despite the claw marks running down his chest.
Wait.
"Claw marks?" He mumbled aloud, face falling into confusion. What on earth could they have had on board that would have claws ?
The wood beneath him creaked and echoed down the hallway as he stood, and he could have sworn he heard deep, low growling from somewhere down the hallway. Keeping a hand at his waist ready to draw his sword, he slowly crept down the hallway.
A door was slightly ajar, and the low noise seemed to be coming from the wide crack in the door. Tristan readied himself behind the door, taking a breath as he gripped his sword's hilt at his waist, and poked his head around the corner to peer into the room as he raised his lantern to see into the room better.
He was expecting to see some wild animal that had somehow found its way onto the ship, a rabid beast lurking in the room. What he wasn't expecting to see was a person , only looking maybe at most a year younger than himself, staring back at him. Their brown eyes wild and frantic, hair down to their lower back and severely matted. They wore nothing but what looked akin to a potato sack, torn in various places. Scars, both old and new, littered their body from what he could tell, including two harsh scars on their face, one on their right cheek and another that crossed over their left eye, as well as dried blood staining both skin and cloth.
Startled, Tristan took a step out, so his whole body was in the doorway. Before he could call out to the individual, a harsh hiss escaped them, teeth as sharp as fangs bared at him as they scampered back under a table that was somehow still standing. The more he glanced around the room, the more he realized the furniture in the room had been rearranged to resemble some sort of den, and this feral kid not but a year younger than him had crawled back into it, their wild eyes never leaving him.
"Uh, hey. You alright there?" Tristan called out, but the only thing he got in response was a low growl, lips curling up a little in a snarl.
He let go of his sword hilt, and very slowly moved to set down his lantern. The person hissed at him again, and he calmly held his hands up. "I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm just setting this down." He promised, moving again to slowly put the lantern down.
When the person showed no sign that they were going to attack him, he slowly moved to sit down in the doorway to the room-turned-den. If this was their territory, they needed to show he meant no harm and not cross the threshold.
He sat hunched over slightly, just from bad posture. Meanwhile the essentially feral individual stood on all fours in a defensive stance, head hunched between their shoulders with their back arched slightly as their eyes never left him. And the longer Tristan looked at them, the more he realized they looked malnourished, lanky limbs hanging to their frame.
"You the only one here?" He asked calmly, maintaining eye contact with them. He got no response, just their growl softening slightly to be just low enough to recognize it was there rather than being louder. "I'll take that as a yes. Do you understand what I'm saying?" He asked hesitantly. Either this person was too far gone to realize what he was saying exactly, and that's why they wouldn't verbally respond, or-
Slowly, the person's head nodded, eyes never leaving their fixed gaze on him. "You do?" He repeated the question, and he received another slight nod. Good, we're getting somewhere, he thought to himself.
Tristan caught the slight movement of their eyes flicking down to the hilt of his sword. He followed their gaze, and he reached to slowly grab the sword. He heard them hiss again, backing up under the table more as they hunched in more on themself. "I'm not going to hurt you, look. Watch," He told them, carefully watching them as he grabbed the sword and detached the scabbard from his belt.
He presented the sheathed sword out to them, and threw it away from himself towards them. The clattering of the tough leather on the floor and the metal blade rattling in it's hold caused the person to flinch back, but Tristan just held his arms up, the sleeves of his coat falling to his elbows. "See? Now I don't have a weapon. I said I wouldn't hurt you."
Cautiously, the person crawled out from under the table towards him, and it was then that Tristan saw it. The person had a pair of matted wolf ears pressed to the side of their head, and a tail to match behind them, pointed straight out defensively.
A wolf hybrid.
He thought Bee was the only hybrid-type around, but clearly they were a hybrid.
No wonder the rumors described the attack as by a rabid creature.
Tristan just watched them as they approached the abandoned sword, their eyes meeting his as they snatched the weapon up, pulling it from its scabbard and aiming the blade at him. He just calmly held his hands up to show he meant no harm.
They narrowed their eyes at him, as if expecting any movement. But he just sat there across from them. If aiming his own weapon at him made them feel safer, then so be it. "I'm Tristan, Tristan Heartman," he introduced, keeping his voice quiet so as to not startle them. "You got a name or something I can call you?"
He noticed the slight tense at that, and he was worried he wouldn't get any verbal response besides maybe a growl, but the person across from them very quietly uttered, "Lee."
Their voice was rough and hoarse, most likely from misuse and abuse from the sound of it. "Lee," Tristan echoed, nodding, "Nice to meet you then, Lee." They didn't say anything further, just kept staring at him. Ever so slowly, Lee lowered the sword aimed at his throat, and he watched the blade from his spot as they set it on the ground again.
"Why are you here?" Their voice broke the silence again, a strain clear in their voice. Definitely misuse then.
"Well," Tristan replied, "When a ship crashes into an island in the middle of nowhere with the rumors of the entire crew being dead, people come to investigate. I'm here with my friend Anastasia, she's searching the rest of the ship for any survivors."
At the mention of survivors, Lee's eyes narrowed again and they growled. "Only me. Everyone else is dead." They said darkly, and Tristan held his hands out a little more to calm them.
"Okay, okay, do you know who killed everyone? Did you see what happened?" He asked, though he felt like he knew the answer already.
Lee raised a hand and pointed at themself, poking their chest a few times. "You killed them?" Tristan clarified, and he watched as they nodded. He almost didn't believe it, but in their defense, they held his sword up steady enough to tell him it wasn't the first time they had wielded a weapon.
"How about this," Tristan slowly moved to stand, and Lee immediately hissed a little and backed up, but he kept his hands out, "Let's get you out of here, yeah? I can take you back to my ship, we'll get you some actual clothes and food and you can be safe with us. Does that sound alright?" He held a hand out to them, an offering to help them up.
The two stared at each other in silence for several seconds that felt like it lasted hours. Lee's still wild brown eyes held a look of uneasiness, clearly not used to this type of treatment. Tristan just knew the wolf hybrid wouldn't survive on their own for long, not if the whole ship was as destroyed and torn up as this room was.
Then, ever so cautiously, Lee reached a hand out, taking Tristan's as he carefully pulled them to their feet. They immediately let go as soon as they were standing on their feet. Their gaze fixated on him as he moved, pulling his deep red coat off and offered it to them. Without a word, they snatched it up, pulling it around their shoulders as they wrapped themself up in the jacket that was definitely way too big on them.
"Follow me," Tristan started walking out of the room, and he could hear their bare feet against the wood following behind them.
Once they reached the top deck, Lee squinted as the bright sun hit them, and Tristan noticed just how pale their skin was, like they hadn't seen the light of the sun in years. "I see you got a little side tracked," He saw Lee's head snap towards Stasia's voice, who was standing up against the railing of the deck near where the rope was grappled to, "My dear Tristan, who's your new little friend there?"
"Easy," Tristan said gently to Lee as he heard a soft growl come from them, to which Stasia just raised a brow slightly, "Stasia, this is Lee. They're the only survivor onboard. Lee, this is my friend I was telling you about."
"All bad things, I hope," Stasia laughed lightly, pushing herself off the rail to stand upright. "What's a poor, little thing like you doing on such a big ship?"
Lee's ears just pressed lower against their head as they pulled his coat tighter around themself. Tristan approached Stasia, lowering his voice, "They're not much of a talker, I think they've been through a lot."
"I can tell," Stasia hummed, turning to head down the rope. She turned her head to look at the wolf hybrid, "Well let's get you back to our ship then. I'm sure our lovely friend Bee would be more than happy to get you some warm food and clothes that fit you properly. You're drowning in that coat." She laughed lightly again and dropped down, going down the rope and landing in the sand.
It was a hassle to get Lee into the rowboat, and then from the rowboat to the main ship was just as hard. Lee latched onto Tristan as the rowboat was hoisted out of the water, and he could have sworn he felt them tremble. He also didn't miss the held back laugh from Stasia.
"You guys are back!" A cheery voice caught them off guard as Tristan and Stasia helped Lee get out of the rowboat and onto the deck of the ship. The wolf hybrid flinched and scampered behind Tristan.
"Were you watching us, my lovely Bee?" Stasia smiled as she strode over to put an arm over the honeybee, who's wings fluttered excitedly as she hugged Stasia back.
"You guys were gone for a while, I was worried," Bee nodded enthusiastically before her eyes landed on the head just barely poking out from behind Tristan. Her eyes lit up as she let go of Stasia, "Oh! Hello! What's your name?" Tristan opened his mouth to say something, but he was cut off before he could. "Wait! I think I have- oh here!"
Bee extended her arm, her hand clutching the stem of a bright yellow flower as she held it out, a warm smile on her face as she presented the flower to them.
"Uh, Bee-" Tristan was cut off again as from behind him, Lee stepped out and slowly reached a hand out to take the flower. Bee seemed to smile brighter as they gingerly held the flower, bringing it closer to their face as they sniffed it. Their eyes lifted to meet Bee's warm yellow ones, and they gave a single nod, "Thank you.."
Tristan blinked at how quickly the once terrified and feral wolf hybrid went from growling and hissing at him to actually taking a flower from Bee without much problem. "Bee," He said, clearing his throat a little, "You think you could, uh, get Lee here some food and clothes that fit them?"
Bee eagerly nodded "Yeah! Come on, I'll show you Henry and you can meet Allium, and we'll get you some warm soup," she reached to grab Lee's hand, who flinched a little at the touch, but they let themself get dragged below deck.
"So," Stasia leaned up against the mast, crossing her arms over her chest, "We have a pet wolf now."
"I couldn't just leave them there, Stasia," Tristan told her, putting his hands into the pockets of his pants, "They wouldn't have survived on their own, I mean you saw them-"
"They killed everyone on that ship, didn't they. Since they were the only one on the ship?"
Tristan sighed, nodding, "They were very adamant and clear to me that they did. I didn't want to push them for more information, they were wild when I found them."
Stasia just hummed in response, turning her head to look towards the stairwell to below deck where Bee's cheery voice could just barely be heard. "Well you and I just need to keep an eye on them. I don't want them to snap one day and hurt Bee."
"Lee will be my responsibility, I'll make sure they won't hurt Bee." Their eyes met, and Stasia's darkened as her tone turned serious.
"They better not. I won't hesitate to stop them myself if it goes too far." With that, she turned as she pushed herself off the mast and headed below deck.
Sighing, Tristan moved to face the ship left on the beach, it looked much smaller at a distance. The horrors which their newest crew member knew would most likely stay with them and the dead littered in and around the ship.
"Let's just hope it won't come to that..."
