Work Text:
“Tell me about her.”
The hour was late. Sabetha and Jean sat in the sign of the black iris, faces a similar color with the brandy on the table. Sabetha, for her part, was staring at her glass on eye level with it, her chin tucked into the crook of her jacket sleeve.
Jean would have leaned back in his chair, if he weren’t already leaned about as far back as he could without removing the front legs from the floor.
“About who?” Jean asked, picking up the brandy bottle.
“You know- oh. Shit.” She sat up, back arching and popping as she moved. “That’s right. Locke told me about her. I’m sorry.”
“I can’t accept your apology without knowing who you’re talking about,” Said Jean, pouring another ill-advised cup of drink, setting his face very poorly in a mask of genuine confusion. He never was all that good at lying to Sabetha, especially when he didn’t really have that much right to.
“Locke said- well, you know. He’s not a gossip. But he doesn’t speak for you, of course. You’re your own-”
“Beth.” Jean grunted. She was delaying.
“Locke told me that you met somebody. And that you lost her.”
Jean grimaced. He’d hoped that, somehow, Sabetha meant their patron, or Captain Drakasha. He knew better, of course, but that didn’t much help.
“It was less like meeting her,” He began, rolling his glass between his hands thoughtfully, “and more like finding her. Or her finding me, I don’t know. She- hah- she found us in a rowboat on the sea. Her and an entire ship of bonafide pirates. They’d looted out our ship already.”
Sabetha’s face of distinct shock kept him talking.
“What the Black Orchid does when she loots a ship is that she gives the crew of the ship a chance to join her. They put you on a sort of- a third shift of crew just for doing undesirable chores. And once you help her catch a ship, you become part of the crew. So, naturally, Locke and I stole them a ship.”
“Jean Tennan, you’re fucking with me.”
“Gods’ truth! We’re very dangerous men.” This earned him a slug on the elbow. “She was the first mate. She- she didn’t take shit from anybody. She knew Lucarno, quoted it in conversation. She was like. . .” Jean took a moment to think, trying to push past the veil of misery, to summon up the words to describe Ezri. “She reminded me of Camorr, almost. Like. . . full of wonderful mysteries, if you just were the right sort of person to escape the dangerous parts. Like you could get swept up in all the action and never stop.” Jean’s throat was growing tighter now.
“You did love her.” Sabetha whispered, sorrowful. She didn’t act surprised, but truly and deeply upset. She reached out and put her hand on his arm.
“I did.” He nodded, voice rasping against the use. He covered her hand with hers, and let his head drop. “She was amazing, Sabetha. I only wish you could have met her.”
“If we could have our wishes,” she sighed, looking at the table, “she could meet our Sanzas too.”
“I imagine they’re all sat somewhere, watching us royally fuck up together.” He said, in that wistful way that only came with speaking of the afterlife.
There was a long pause, both of them sat like that. Holding hands, letting the sorrow live, breathe, for a moment.
“Gods, Jean, I’m so sorry.” Sabetha gasped. “She- you couldn't have- You were on the sea of brass not three months ago.”
Jean nodded, weakly. “I haven’t had much time.” He said, softer than he would have liked. “Locke was sick. That’s all I had time to think about, then this stupid game, and- sometimes I think right after I wake up, that if I just walk through the right door, I’ll be on deck, and she’ll be pushing the crew around. I wonder a lot, you know? If we could have- if she hadn’t died, if Locke and I got the antidote. . . If we could’ve gone back to the Black Orchid. What would’ve become of all of us, you know?” Jean’s eyes were fixed on the floor.
Sabetha thought on that.
“I doubt I would have ever found you out there.” She half joked.
Jean left out a puff of laughter. Then one more, face breaking into a little smile.
“No, you would’ve found a way. The pirate life might have suited you. Though I doubt you’d settle for anything less than captain.”
Sabetha thought a little more.
“The thought does sound appealing, I’ll admit. If I’d caught wind of the idea a bit younger, I might have pestered Chains on the thought.”
“I’m convinced that Chains never set foot on a sea vessel if he couldn’t help it.” Jean grunted, rolling his eyes. “Think about it! Did you ever see him even think about putting himself or us on a boat other than the Floating Grave or a canal boat?”
“Gods above, you’re right.” She blinked. “Maybe he thought he pissed off Iono at some point.”
“I have no doubt that Locke and I did.” Jean muttered into his glass.
“Oh?”
“Landsmen pretending to be sea officers? That has to be one of the things Iono dislikes.”
Sabetha blinked, raising her eyebrows. “You did. . . what?”
Jean barked another laugh. “Gods. There really is too much to catch up on in one night.”
“Ah, I suppose it is late.” She deflated, her curiosity giving way to disappointment.
“Same time, same place next week?” Jean asked.
“Of course.”
Jean nodded.
There was a brief pause. “Locke isn’t being strange about me letting you come and see me, is he?”
“Ah, shit. I knew I forgot to tell him about something today.” Jean snapped his fingers. “Damn.”