Clara awoke in the dead of night. She could hear the ship creak and moan with the rocking of the ocean. She sat up in her bunk and looked around. She heard Peter above her snoring contently. Every one was asleep. She removed the dagger from under her pillow and placed it in the belt of her pants. She gave a quick yawn and stretch sitting on the side of her bed. She tiptoed past sleeping men and clutter on the ground slowly up the stairs and onto the deck. The chill breeze hit her with a shock. The night was warm, but she never got used to the cold breeze on the open sea. She had been aboard The Beleriand for three months already and still she could not get used to the sudden wind. She noticed as she crossed the deck that it was completely empty, such a change from the hustle in the day. She still couldn't believe how Peter had talked her into dressing in drag and joining a pirate crew. Her guise as a young man was easy to see through and instead of going as "Charles" after the first week she started calling herself by her given name. No one was the least bit surprised. Though there were a few men she knew to stay away from.
She rather liked it like this. Empty. She felt as though the ship was hers, there was no one to be wary of, the only time she felt completely at ease.
She stood for a time at the bow letting the chill numb her skin. Looking out over the black night time waters there was no city lights in any direction. She had learned by now how to tell a heading by the stars and knew they were traveling west to what? She did not know. Her mind began to wander and soon she got sick at looking into the Abyss of dark nothing around her. It reminded her too much of her future. She was to be married to a wealthy man, run her own household, make her father proud... but that was months ago. Now she was nothing but a Pirate. The darkness scared her so she decided to lay flat on the ground both arms to her side looking straight up at the bright specs in the sky.
Looking at the clear sky, feeling the motion of the sea below her, and the hard creaking of wood, she felt at ease almost happy. She felt strange, like her whole life was on a ship though she knew that she had been on a ship only once before this. She let her thoughts wonder past her caring. There was a small noise behind her. She thought it was the ships ceaseless creaking and thought nothing of it.
A man sighed behind her. She jumped slightly tilting her head to see who it was. "Didn't mean to scare you." It was Captain Jonathan Nightt. Clara didn't move and stared up, silent once again. "Your Mother..." He started slowly, "Used to do the same thing."
"You know nothing of my mother." Clara said irritated. He knew how touchy she was about her mother. She didn't know why he insisted on bringing her up.
"I wouldn't say 'nothing'" Jon said the usual smirk on his face missing. He seemed oddly somber, serious. Very different from his usual demeanor. Clara was silent once again. "You were born some time in December, 1620. Were you not?"
Clara sat up on her elbow and looked at him. "How did you know that?" She was surprised.
He stood still as stone looking out into the blackness that frightened her so much. He didn't smile or even look at her. "You never met her, have you? Your mother I mean."
She looked away from him and back up at the arching sky. "She died when I was young. I don't remember her too well."
He took a step toward her to rest his arm on the railing. "What do you know of her?"
"Why?" She said irritated again. "Its really none of your business."
At this Jon smiled looking down at her. "Sorry Madam." He said in a mocking tone. "If I hit a nerve I'll leave it be." He resumed is gaze over the waters blacker than the skys above.
"My mother was beautiful..." Clara said after a long silence. "She loved my father." Jon sneered at the last statement, but Clara ignored him. "I was born in England and when I wasn't even a year old my father accepted his position on the island. So we boarded a ship and set out. We were attacked by pirates...It is said that they killed everyone except my father and I. We alone were spared. I haven't the memory for her, but I had portraits around my old home. She had dark hair as black as the sea below us and her eyes as blue as the sea in the morning."
Jon contemplated her answer for a moment. "It's strange isn't it?" He asked her taking a seat next to her.
"Strange? How so?" she knitted her brow and looked up to him.
"Only that your mothers hair was as black as your fathers once was..." He sighed again and touched her dark red hair.
"And what's that supposed to mean?" She asked grabbing her hair protectively and sitting up.
Jon got to his feet. "You're the schooled one." He said simply. "Figure it out." He walked back out to the bow of the ship and looked towards the sky. All that was heard was the sound of the waves crashing against the hardened wood of the boat and the distant wind. "A storm is coming." Was all he said before he left Clara alone to ponder her heritage.
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