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Mathias put the mug down, steam rising into the chill of his office. He’d never been much of a tea person, but he had to admit Kul Tirans knew how to make it appealing. It warmed him up in ways coffee could not. Exactly what he needed on these long, cold, lonely days.
He looked at the drops trailing down his window, the rain so heavy he could barely see the city. It had been like that for a couple days, slowing down his work. Not because Shaw was sensitive to weather or anything like that, but because Flynn had been out at sea. If the skies had been this unfavourable in the city, he could only imagine how bad it was far from shore.
Not that he wanted to imagine that. The report before him all but forgotten, he stared at the pink flowers beside it.
Flynn staggered across the deck, the rocking of his ship swaying him side to side. The wood was still wet from the last rain they sailed out of, fast and heavy, leaving the ship, the crew, and himself soaked right through. He barely got comfortable with a cup of hot tea before the bell rang once more, and now he knew why.
A storm had been brewing on the horizon, straight in their path. Of course.
“Captain!” the first officer called, standing beside the helmsman.
“All taken care of, I see?” he smiled, moving a strand of wet hair off his forehead. It was still sticking stubbornly.
She gave him a thumbs up, both as confirmation and to point to the sailors already furling the sails. Everyone went to do their job without him needing to utter a single word, and he couldn’t be more proud. That’s what made a ship sail. That’s what brought her crew home.
Flynn moved to the rail, just in time to grip onto it when the ship rocked even harder. The storm was inching closer, and even with the Arva visibly turning out of its path, he wasn’t sure they could sail around it. The weather had been merciless the past few days, shifting so abruptly they barely had time to react. But so far no one had gotten hurt, at least no more than a couple bruises from being tossed around, and he intended to keep it that way.
“Melli!” he called, hoping to be louder than the rapidly strengthening winds. Their chill cut right through his wet clothes, stabbing him to the very bone.
“Captain!” she gave a quick salute, barely a second’s break from what her hands have been doing before that. The waters shifted as she directed them, turning the Arva like the Tidemother herself was helping shield them from danger.
Though Flynn held no illusion that Tidesages could control the actual weather. Melli did her best, and that was all he could ask of her, like anyone else on board. No ship ever made port by staking everything on a single crewman or woman. But he knew how well they worked together, like the gears in a clock, each part neatly in its place and making the others move.
Tides, how much he’d give for that cup of hot tea, or the warm bed that awaited him on the other side of that storm.
But even if they failed to avoid this squall – and however many after it – he knew they would make it through. His people were tough, seasoned sailors, and it would take more than a few days of bad weather to bring them down. His ship was of Kul Tiran make, the finest the seas have ever seen. Just a few more days and she’ll make port, where Mathias was waiting for him.
As raindrops began falling on deck, Flynn couldn’t help but smile, regardless of how close they were getting to the dark clouds. He wasn’t worried about seeing his beloved again, and he knew Mathias wasn’t concerned, either. Despite the weather and the cruel seas that separated them, Shaw would know the Arva was on her way home, for the sea stalks were secure on her captain’s desk.