Chapter Text
There is a reason that humanity ties the concepts of flight and freedom so closely together. To soar through the skies unbridled by obstacles of mountains, rivers, or borders, seems so appealing to those who cannot and those forced to walk the ground below.
They stare up at the sky forever with a sense of awe and longing and another unnamed, unknowable emotion that is just as powerful. A feeling like you’ve missed out on something you were promised to have, an ugly mix of injustice and hatred.
It is all too easy to become jealous of those who have that which you do not.
Birds are one such point of awe and envy. They sing day in and day out, dancing through the air in their never-ending waltz of freedom and survival. The songs they string together with seemed ease always manage to sound perfectly timed and delightfully tuned.
They live such fleeting lives, feeling the wind on their feathers and the sun on their backs.
Perhaps it is a feeling of vindication that comes when one finally manages to cage a bird, to bring it down from its rightful place amongst the clouds and clip its wings.
The melody a bird sings of loss is almost indiscernible to that it sings of freedom.
A young man with hair like gold and large feathered wings to match was soaring through a beautifully orange sky. The shadow he cast on the churning sea below him was nothing compared to the sheer enormity of the waves that grew, fell, and crashed into each other before disappearing again. A surge of air coming up off of the waves pushed Tommy higher into the sky, his golden feathers catching the wind and gliding like they were built for. He tilted his wings forward and dipped back down, a giddy smile breaking out across his face as he soared closer to the water again. He zipped across the face of the sea, running his fingers through the water and weaving between waves before they could form, almost as if he was surfing through the air.
As long as Tommy could remember, he had loved flying.
He had grown up alone in a dark forest, amongst all the strange creatures and ugly monsters that lived there. He was all too used to trudging through dense undergrowth and ducking under thick canopy for hours to get to where he needed to go. It wasn’t often that he had a chance like this. To just let loose and fly free through the dusky sky.
So when he did get the opportunity, he was always sure to take it.
The sun on his back was a welcome change from the dark cold of his home, and the golden and amber tones of the skies above him contrasted starkly with the dark grey clouds he was familiar with. He was still alone, but being alone in the sky felt more like liberation and less like the isolation he was used to. A sudden upward draft carried him back into the sky, and Tommy beat his wings hard against gravity to take him further and further up. He always felt an overwhelming sense of happiness when he was flying, and he couldn’t help but let out a flighty laugh and throw his arms out to each side of himself. In times like these, Tommy felt utterly free as he climbed higher and higher into the sky.
A gentle smile grew on his face, and the young man let his eyes flutter shut so he could just exist quietly in the moment.
What he didn’t know was that for the last while, Tommy had been being followed. He had wrongly thought he was alone, so he could hardly be blamed for failing to notice the boat rapidly approaching from behind him.
If only he had known that he had been spotted. If only he had known that he had strayed past the borders of a country ruled by an unforgiving man. Maybe then, things would have gone differently.
The teenager barely had time to register the sound of an arrow ripping through the air before it buried itself deep into his shoulder. Panic and surprise flashed through his mind, and his eyes flew open just in time to see the blood spray out in front of him. A strangled cry born of pain and alarm tore free from his chest, and he faltered just long enough to start free-falling towards the icy cold water. Tommy flailed uselessly as wet, cold agony pulsed through his arm while he desperately tried to regain control of his flight.
“Fuck- No no no!” He screamed. If the wind wasn’t stripping the moisture from his eyes, Tommy was sure tears would be streaming past him. Who the hell had shot him? Better yet, why in the absolute fuck had someone shot him?!
Only a moment passed before Tommy slammed hard against the churning sea, the sudden impact sending shockwaves through his body as he plunged under the water. He instinctively shouted in surprise (although the action was futile) and immediately regretted it when cold water flooded his mouth and nostrils. It took him a moment and copious amounts of effort to resurface, and he gulped down air as if his life depended on it – because it did.
Tommy struggled against the waves for as long as he could while his shoulder bled hot blood into the cold sea, and the salt against his wound made his suffering all the worse.
Waves battered against him and made it hard for him to keep his head above the water. He spluttered and started to sob violently as icy fear gripped his heart, and his salty tears melted into the ocean.
He had never learnt how to swim.
Tommy had never needed to know how to swim before.
Fuck!
Tommy could barely even float as the weight of his wings began to drag him down into the water. He yelled out in despair as exhaustion began to seep into his already tired muscles – He never thought he’d regret spending so much time in the air.
“Please- HELP ME!” He could barely think anymore as he screeched out the words, not even sure who he was yelling to.
Tommy’s frantic kicking started to slow as the minutes passed and his energy was sapped away. His head fell beneath the water again, and for a moment, everything was quiet. Underneath the surface of the sea, the water was calm. Light filtered through in beautiful rays, dancing over waves and piercing the deep blue cold around him. It was eerily quiet, aside from the crashing of waves above him.
He began to sink further and further away from the sun. The freezing water would’ve made fighting his way up impossible, even if he wasn’t injured. Tommy desperately needed to breathe, but his subconscious survival instinct overpowered his physical need for air. His lungs began to ache as he thrashed his legs weakly. Unfortunately, his efforts were for naught.
Darkness crept up at the edges of his vision as his lack of oxygen became dire.
It only took a few moments for him to start to black out, shaking, sobbing, and in absolute agony as his descent only grew faster.
He didn’t stay conscious long enough to realise that his attacker would become his saviour. Unbeknownst to Tommy, a large net was cast out over the spot where he fell, easily identified by the large pool of blood. The sides of the net trawled past him, trapping him between them before closing around him. As it drew him out of the water and up the side of the large wooden ship, somebody unseen on board shouted to the crew to get a cell ready.
When Tommy came to, the first thing he noticed was that pain oozed from the wound in his shoulder, almost as much as the amount of blood that he could feel dried to his back. He was bound around the middle by, in his mind, an entirely excessive amount of rope. It pressed hard on his chest, and Tommy struggled to take full breaths or move his wings with how tightly the rope was fastened.
The floor beneath him felt rough and damp, like wood, and it made his legs sting as what smelt like salt seeped into the scrapes and cuts he had on his knees.
Tommy hadn’t been awake long now. A powerful wave had rocked the ship hard, sending him flying against one side of the dank cell he was in. He cursed under his breath and opened his eyes – and was immediately struck by a pounding headache, unlike anything he’d felt before. Newfound nausea rolled off of him, and Tommy felt weak and sick. His head felt light, and looking around made him dizzy with blood loss.
He winced, drawing in a shaky breath to push through the pain and look around the new and unfamiliar environment he found himself captive in. It was dark and humid. Tommy hated humidity – it made the air feel heavy and disgusting. He desperately wished he was back home in his forest. It was never humid in his forest.
He scrunched his nose in disgust as the foul smell of rotting wood invaded his senses.
A single lantern lit up the area. It was the only saving grace for his confusion, and Tommy finally got a good look around the room he had woken up in.
Rusty metal rods made up the walls of his narrow cell, barring him from the rest of the room. There were quite a few stacks of boxes and barrels casting shadows up the walls, and looking around, Tommy noticed that the space was much larger than it had looked initially. He made a mental note of a set of stairs and a trapdoor leading up to another floor near the wall farthest from him. If he could just figure out how to escape from his cell, maybe he could escape up the stairs?
It looked to the avian like he was being kept in the storage area (He wasn’t quite sure what it was called; Tommy had never been on a boat before). The wooden boards that made up the walls looked thick and sturdy, but Tommy was sure he could smell the rot.
He was very familiar with the smell of rotting wood, as Tommy recalled that he often had to replace planks in his home to keep them from decaying.
It was quiet; too quiet, he thought, as he realised that the ship he was on must’ve needed many people to crew it, based on the size of the deck he was on alone.
Surely, it should be much louder on a boat, right? He had never been on one himself, but he was sure that that amount of people so close together would be noisy at least.
“Fuck off- where am I?” He breathed. He felt his throat scratch even as he whispered; how long had he been screaming for? Tommy nervously glanced down at his shoulder, which had pulsed with a dull stabbing pain at the memory. To his surprise, it had intricate and well-placed bandages all around it.
The sleeve of his shirt had been looked as if it had been torn off hastily to allow whoever had bandaged his shoulder quicker access to the wound.
Tommy struggled against his bindings for another moment, although he knew in his heart his efforts were in vain. He groaned in frustration and sat back against the curved wall behind him.
He hated how vulnerable he was right then; his arms and wings tied against his sides, his shoulder stabbed open, and his brain foggy.
Through the haze, Tommy thought that if someone had taken the time to bring him aboard this ship and bandage his arm, that must mean that they didn’t want him dead. The young man grimaced and leaned his good side against the bars, pressing his head against the cool metal. The cold that seeped into his temple helped tremendously to offset some of the pain from his headache.
Tommy was still so tired. Definitely even more so now than when he was in the water, he thought. A shudder ran down his spine as he remembered the icy fear he had felt at that moment, and he grimaced.
Occasionally, he’d hear walking or the muffled traces of conversation coming from somewhere above him. No matter how hard he tried to listen, Tommy couldn’t make out any of the words he’d hear.
And on top of all that, he was far too terrified to sleep, no matter how much his mind ached for the relief it would bring. Every time he moved, his muscles screamed and spasmed at him to stop – even breathing was painful.
And like that, Tommy waited. For how long, he wasn’t sure.
The sudden creaking of a door being opened snapped him out of his trance-like state.
Instantly, Tommy was back on high alert as a shadowed figure began to step down from the trapdoor he noticed earlier. He could see the night sky briefly before the door was shut. Had he really been here that long? The avian blinked hard a few times to try and bring the moisture back to his eyes after staring at the ground for so long.
He shuffled back in his cell so that his back was against the far corner from the person as they finished climbing down the stairs and began to step closer. It was dark, so he couldn’t identify any defining features apart from the fact that they were wearing a cloak as they swept calmly towards him. However, as they passed the single lantern in the room, Tommy could just make out wisps of dark black hair peaking out from the hood of the cloak.
Tommy was so scared that he could barely speak, and when he finally did, it came out as a hoarse whisper as the stranger stopped in front of his cell.
“Who the hell are you?” He grimaced when he heard how meek his own voice sounded.
The person outside his cell tilted their head to the side, and their frame shook with laughter. It sounded mocking and malicious, and it made Tommy feel small.
He felt embarrassment and anger swirl together in his chest, and his cheeks flushed. He was being laughed at – he was sitting here, in a cell, injured and scared – and being laughed at.
“I’m not scared of you!” Tommy snapped, his expression fierce and his tone sharper than before. He was lying, obviously, but his supposed captor didn’t need to know that as Tommy caught a glimpse of a toothy grin and felt his mouth go dry.
“Maybe you should be.” Came the reply in a smooth voice, notably masculine even though it was rather high. Tommy watched as the stranger reached for the hood of his cloak, obviously intending to pull it back. “Maybe you should be more wary of unfamiliar people in unfamiliar environments.”
As he spoke, he drew back the hood of his cloak. Tommy’s gaze was immediately drawn to a pair of piercing eyes, one sporting a gnarled scar that went straight down through his eyebrow. His black hair was unkempt, and his half-serious, half-amused expression told Tommy that he was not to be trifled with. Tommy felt frozen dread drip down his back as he processed the man’s words.
“My name is Quackity, and you-” He gestured towards Tommy. “-are not from around here, are you?”