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media: dungeons & dragons (personal campaign)
originally published: december 2022
word count: 7019
notes: a lovestruck reides tries to reconcile his feelings for aske with his desire to keep him safe.

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i.

you’re here again.

on this boat. this vessel. you know her name now: the desperado. her deck is sturdy beneath your boots, fashioned out of dark brown wood and radiating heat. the way she bobs upon the waves gives the impression of life; of an inhalation and its following exhalation. you breathe along with her. 

you’ve returned. 

the last time you stood here, you were under the light of the moon. stars burned in the night sky, casting their light down on the waves surrounding the vessel. everything was so… mysterious. overflowing with potential. you had to be careful. couldn’t be seen. couldn’t be heard. couldn’t even say your name. your secrets were, at times, on the very cusp of spilling out of you. but you knew better. for better or for worse, you knew better. you kept them down deep. 

now? now, the sun accompanies you. everything is clear. the skies of atemcester are impossibly blue; the surrounding seas blend into it, only a fraction darker. the secrets you held so close to your chest are out in the open - for the most part, anyway. what matters is that you are not afraid. you are taking up space. you are existing. you can say your name - can scream out every part of it, if you wanted. you know what must be done to protect your home, and you will be the one to do it. no matter what. 

you are determined. 

aske (that’s his name - aske, aske, aske; you sometimes say it just to hear it; to feel it on your tongue - it feels so much better than ‘the surfacer’ ever did) helped arrange this transportation. without his offer to talk to his captain, to brave the storm…  what would you have done? he’s saved you all over again. right now, he is hard at work - lifting barrels and crates; darting about the deck with the rest of his crew. the last time you were on the desperado, you didn’t see him do any of this. judging by the state he’d be in when he visited you down in the hold, you knew he was very, very busy during the day. tousled hair, calloused hands, brown skin flushed and freckled from the sun… tired green eyes that were still kind; still sharp. back then, you loved the way they’d shine every time he smiled. that hasn’t changed. 

you stand with your friends amidst the flurry of activity and try not to stare at him too much. a lot has happened between the two of you. a lot. aske does something to you that you can’t quite explain. you know that your friends pick up on your swooning but you just can’t help it. 

emotions are cumbersome things and hindsight brings a brutal honesty with it. your feelings for aske were glaringly obvious for a long, long time, and the realization is a bit mortifying. you were so blatant about it all - repeatedly denying your affections; playing aske off as just some friend even after admitting your, ah, romantic interest in him. by persana, you even called him handsome! and kind! and funny! you were all smiles with everyone else’s love lives - all cheeky comments and suggestive winks - but when it came to yours? oh, boy. you’re far from shy, but talking about aske sure did clam you right up. 

you once thought you’d never see him again; that he’d never want to see you again. aske smited those doubts himself when he readily agreed to meet up with you. and so your anxieties took an even more insidious turn. you convinced yourself that he’d hate you upon finding out who you truly are. that he’d deem you some naive, silly princeling who had no business using him, all those months ago. instead, he accepts your apologies regarding your secrecy. he cracks a joke about you being his prince, and, fuck, that alone has you appreciating a title that once brought you such grief. 

you’ve read a lot of books about love. (evidently, people have a lot to say about it.) to love is to go a bit mad, they’d say. you thought it was a very romantic sentiment, but deemed it unrealistic. how wrong you were. people already call you an eccentric. add love into the equation and the result is… well… 

it’s something. 

soon, the desperado will be underway. you’ll be on your way home again, your friends by your side. with them, you’ll save aquos… you’ll save your sister. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous, involving aske in all of this… but you’d also be lying if you said you regretted it. because you don’t. not at all. 

he waves to you and you rush on over. 

ii. 

you always knew that the hold was but a small portion of her, but the desperado is so much larger than you thought. boats are incredible; how did surfacers even think of them? the shipwrecks beneath the waves never seemed quite this big. 

you flit about on deck as you please, feeling the sun and the sea-breeze on your skin whenever you’d like. it would be perfect, were it not for the trials that await you both within and beyond the storm. you try not to think about it, instead focusing on the way the weather begins to cool. the chill in the air clears your head. it helps you think.

for the most part, your companions do well on their promise to assist around the ship - kilwin and jorah in particular. you try to, as well - but you’re not exactly muscular. you point this out very, very often. 

your ineptitude at physical labor goes largely unnoticed; the crew is more than capable. the ship is tightly run, though the captain tends to keep to herself whenever she’s not giving orders. you suppose the kraken is intimidating, but you’re not scared of her. she’s interesting. if she knew that, she’d probably do something to make you scared of her, though. so you keep your thoughts to yourself. 

you’re relaxing with some ale below deck when you catch sight of one of the crew members. clive. you’re wearing his pants. every time you remember, you have to fight off an urge to laugh. 

“oh, hello.” he grabs a bottle of ale from a cabinet. “you’re… aske’s…” he bites his lip. “...the one with the good taste.” he nods towards your outfit. 

“hello,” you reply. “yes… i am.” both aske’s and the one with good taste. “thanks.” you regard his outfit, too. it’s a bit fancy compared to the rest of the crew. the shirt even has ruffles. “you have good taste, too.” 

aske, who sits across from you, glances up from his book. the look he gives you is obvious - he remembers the pants ordeal. you haven’t even told your friends about it yet. it’s such a ridiculous little secret. 

clive, oblivious to the tale surrounding his former pants, perks up at your compliment. “why, thank you kindly!” he lifts his free hand and you realize that he’s holding a deck of cards. “would the two of you fancy a game?” 

your eyes widen at the offer. “i would,” you say. 

“i wouldn’t,” aske adds. “gods, don’t, reides. this crew will bleed you dry. they’re merciless.” 

“you’re just saying that because you always lose, chales,” clive says. “you’re downright bad at cards.” 

“i’m bad at cards, too!” you exclaim, already scrambling to your feet. your ale almost spills in your excitement. 

aske furrows his brow. “i’ll come along,” he says, closing his book. “someone has to keep an eye on… whatever this is.” 

clive makes an approving little noise, gesturing for the two of you to follow him. you oblige, grabbing onto aske’s hand as you do. he says nothing, letting you pull him along.

you run into kilwin en route to wherever clive is taking you, and you excitedly let him know that you’ll be playing cards. it’s his first time at sea, but you think he’s getting used it by now, what with how helpful he’s being around the ship. he wishes you luck - very sincere; very kind - and you continue on your way.

once in the new room, you find a spot around a table bordered by sailors and get settled. aske - true to his word of not wanting to play - drifts to a corner of the room, his book open once more. even if he’s not playing, you’re glad that he’s here. you don’t want to be too far from him. 

cards are dealt and you’re quick to realize that you have no idea what you’re doing. when you learnt how to play, there were definitely way less cards around. back then, jorah mentioned something about the deck not being complete - you’re beginning to understand what he meant. the other crew members help you out, though. they laugh along with you, teaching you as you go. you don’t win any gold but you sure do enjoy yourself. 

aske watches you the whole time despite the book in his lap. your eyes lock onto his and he smiles. 

“don’t you think you’ve taken your love of fish a bit far, there, aske?” one of the crewmates comments, gesturing between the two of you. he has a mischievous grin plastered across his face. 

“i’ll have you know, it’s very offensive to refer to a triton as a fish, jenkins,” aske retorts. 

a silence settles around the table. everyone looks to you - bracing themselves. jenkins looks like he tasted something particularly bitter. 

“oh, i don’t mind,” you say. if viglis were here, though… or, by persana, your father… you cackle. 

“he’s just saying that.” aske is clearly proud of himself; he shot down jenkins’ teasing with very little effort. “you’d be skewered by any other triton.” 

“well played, chales,” jenkins says, shaking his head - his relief evident. he begins dealing out the deck of cards again. “thanks for not skewering me, then, reides.” 

“no problem.” you smile at him. “i like fish, too.” 

“how’d you meet reides, anyway, aske?” clive asks as he scoops up his cards. 

“it’s a long story,” aske replies. 

clive frowns. “we’ve got the time, haven’t we? we haven’t hit the storm yet.” 

“it’s not like that,” aske replies. “it’s, uh… complicated. we’ll let you know someday. right, reides?”

we’ll let you know someday. you can’t stop smiling. 

“yes,” you agree. “someday.” 

iii.

you lean against aske, his skin hot on yours. he’s slick with sweat and you are, too. it’s early; too early for this sort of thing, most would say. but it’s not like you have the luxury of your shared room at the fish and spell. the two of you have to seize the opportunity whenever you can. the desperado has its nooks and crannies and you get very well acquainted with them as the days ago on.

this time, aske has taken you to the hold; your first home on the surface. a wall of barrels shields the two of you, just as it did so many months ago - but these ones are filled with provisions rather than fish. 

“are you alright?” aske asks. 

“yes,” you reply. “i’m alright.” you sigh. “i’m more than alright.” you feel like you’re melting into him. “i wish we could stay like this forever.” 

“you’re not the only one.” he kisses your temple and you close your eyes. 

“maybe we should move a hammock down here,” you murmur.

“i have a feeling that wouldn’t end well.” aske chuckles.

“you snuck a whole triton down here, once,” you point out. “a hammock is nothing compared to that.” 

aske laughs harder, kissing you again. it’s going to be hard to part ways. you’re sure that the goings-on in laverathia will keep you plenty occupied - but the thought of even leaving his arms right now is enough to make you cry, should you dwell too much on it. by persana, you really are going mad. 

time to get a grip. you open your eyes, nudging him gently with your forehead. “we should get dressed.”

aske heaves out a sigh. “do we have to?” he puts on a comically whiny voice as he asks. 

you laugh so hard that you snort, pushing yourself off him. “yes. we have to.” if you don’t move now, you worry that you never will. it’d be quite a commotion if someone were to walk in on the two of you tangled up like this. “look at you, making me the responsible one…” you fold your arms, huffing out an indignant little sigh. “i’m not good with responsibility, you know. i ran away from home and everything.” 

“i’m a rebel like that,” aske says. he stretches, rubbing the back of his neck.  

“do you think your captain is looking for you?” you toss aske’s shirt his way; it lands squarely on his chest. 

“nah,” aske says. “she’s busy right now. with your friend, in fact.” he tugs his shirt back on. 

“my friend?” you squirm around, trying to tie your sash around your shoulders. “which one?”

“jorah.” aske reaches over, moving your hair out of the way so that he can tie your sash on for you. “when i saw him going over to her office, i knew what i had to do.” you can hear the smirk in his voice. 

you blink. “wow.” you silently thank jorah for distracting aske’s boss and thus enabling the lovely morning that you’ve been having. you’d do it in-person later, too, but you have a feeling that jorah would rather not know the details of what you’ve been up to with aske. 

“yeah.” aske runs his hand through his hair in an attempt to tidy it. he does a terrible job at it, of course. “anyway, at least there’s no fish for her to slap me with this time around.” he pats one of the barrels beside them, grinning goofily. 

“you’re getting a lot of leverage out of that story.” you try to help with his hair. 

aske barks out a laugh, pressing his face onto your neck. “it’s a good one, don’t you think?” his lips move against your gills and you shudder. “i have you to thank for it, you know.”

“i do know,” you manage to say. you remember your close call down here; how aske claimed to laugh at his captain in order to keep you from being found out. it’s a hilarious memory. a cherished memory. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, hugging him close so that you’re chest to chest. “my hero.” 

he laughs again. maybe you shouldn’t have put your clothes back on yet, after all. 

iv.

“wait! wait - we surrender!” 

you make your way across the bridge connecting the two portions of the small island, your steps heavy. you’re furious - so furious that you can’t even begin to show it. it catches somewhere in you, so potent that it drowns in itself. you’re cold. entirely cold. 

briar - who has wild shaped into a massive snake - squeezes one of your shared adversaries. it seems like kilwin wants to interrogate the survivors. some ways away from you, the mage that you shot with harpoon and attempted to crush with bigby’s hand lays dead - finished off by ashara’s ray of frost. 

the group of you were being followed. the kraken noticed them; she alerted jorah and called for you and your friends. luckily, you were out of the hold before the news could break - but the emotional whiplash only served to heighten your rage. 

jorah tells briar to let go of the enemy so that she can speak. he obliges, but you flex your giant, magical hand’s fingers. you might not have much muscle on you, but bigby’s hand sure does. it’s muscle that you’ll put to use if even one thing goes awry during this interrogation.  

the group of you learn that the gang of them are mercenaries. a hit was put out on the desperado; they were paid to kill everyone aboard. ashara casts detect thoughts, trying to verify if their story is a true one - and you press them for more details. you don’t get any; it seems like they’re being honest. 

with everything going on, you find it difficult to muster mercy. luckily for the mercenaries, jorah and kilwin have an easier time of it. the group of you take the money that they received for the job and decide to let them go. you leave them with a final threat: to get going quickly before you fireball their ship. 

kilwin and jorah perform the surface’s funeral rites for the fallen mage and you can’t even look their way. you have no qualms with their decision; on another day, you might even offer to help. today, though? you’re still angry. so very, very angry. you never knew you could be so angry. those people wanted to kill you and your friends. they wanted to kill the crew of the desperado. they wanted to kill aske. it was hard enough allowing them to go free, knowing all of that. if they so much as referenced aquos, you would have ended them. nothing could’ve stopped you. nothing. 

you don’t care if that’s cruel. 

you’re tired of bad people hurting the ones you care about. 

you’re so very tired. 

v.

“it feels wrong,” you say.

aske looks over to you. “what does?”

“eating the candy that i bought for you.” the salt water taffy. the bag that you bought in atemcester is between the two of you, resting on the floor of the hold. 

you’re back again after your long day - your long, long day, made longer by the night watch that you were assigned. you’re not complaining; the kraken was right to give watch duty to all of you. a fresh new layer of peril was added to the voyage - because all the other layers were, evidently, not taxing enough. 

at any rate, your shift has ended. you got it out of the way as quickly as possible, finding aske right after and sneaking down to the hold with him. 

“it’s my candy,” he says. “i can do whatever i want with it. and i want to share it with my incredibly sweet boyfriend.” 

“sweet?”

“yup.” aske doesn’t miss a beat. “incredibly sweet. stunning, too. and good with an impressive variety of hands.” he flexes his fingers - no doubt referencing your performance with bigby’s hand during the battle. 

you roll your eyes, leaning against him as you laugh. he laughs, too, taking you into his arms and letting you rest against him. all around you, the ship creaks. the rain outside continues its steady thrum. 

 “uh… hey.”

“hey?” you glance his way, curious. 

“are you… okay?” aske frowns. “sorry. that sounds…” he shifts around. “i mean… attempts on your life! your home in danger!” he waves a piece of the taffy around for emphasis before popping it in his mouth. “a lot of shit’s going down. i know that you and your friends are up to some serious stuff, and, fuck, after that scuffle on the island… i’d be stupid to think that any of you were helpless. briar turned into a giant frog, for fuck’s sake. and, kilwin! he looks so unassuming and pleasant, but he can… blast people. with that… that light.” he sighs. “i don’t know. i guess i’m just worried about you.” 

you shift, grabbing hold of his hand. you can’t quite interlace your fingers with his, on account of yours being webbed and all, but you still hold on tight. he does, too. 

“i understand,” you say. “it’s… a lot.”

you’ll never forget how worried you were when port valor fell. amidst so much destruction, so much death… you worried for your very first friend. you adored aske before you even knew his name; you cared about him even when you were so very far apart. when you feel so strongly for someone, you take on their pain, too. you take on their fear. it doesn’t surprise you that aske is worried about you. in fact, in a way… it makes you happy. 

“i’m glad that you know about it, though,” you continue. “i… was thinking about that when we first boarded the desperado. i’m happy that you know the sort of person i am… and that you know about the sort of challenges that come with me.” what a grand amount of challenges those are. you swallow hard, thankful for the sugar on your tongue. it gives you the courage to ask a question that, otherwise, may have died in your throat. “...do you think that’s selfish?” 

“selfish?” 

you nod. aske stares at you, his expression blank as he chews on his candy. he doesn’t get it. you’ll have to try again. “okay, like - those mercenaries,” you say. “they were tailing the desperado. whichever asshole hired them told them to kill everyone on board.” 

“reides.” aske sighs. “they’re gone now. one of ‘em’s in the earth.”

“i know,” you say. “that’s just an example. when i asked for your help with getting to aquos… i knew it would put you in danger.” not in the form of the mercenaries, but certainly in the form of the storm. “i still did it anyway.” you feel very small. very guilty. “and i’m glad that i did it.” 

“i’m not some spineless weakling, y’know,” aske says. “even if i can’t make giant webbed hands materialize out of nowhere.” 

“i’m not saying that you are,” you reply immediately. “not at all.” he doesn’t need magic to be strong. “i just - i want you safe, aske. i want you happy. i told you before, didn’t i? chaos tends to follow me, and i… i always drag people into it.” the storm prince, at it again.

“so?” aske says. upon seeing the way your face twists, his arms tighten around you. “listen, reides. i don’t know about chaos following you, or any of that… but i do know that you’re involved in a lot of stuff.” he brushes your hair away from your face. “when people offer to help you with that stuff, they’re not being dragged into anything. they want to be there.” he pulls you in even closer. “it’s not selfish to be grateful for the company. you shouldn’t have to face any of this alone. hells, you won’t face any of it alone. your friends are with you. and… you know…” the tips of his ears turn pink. then red. “i’m with you.” 

“...thank you, aske.” 

“it’s the truth.” aske leans down, resting his chin on your shoulder. “i’m sure if one of your friends was in trouble, you’d go rushing over to help ‘em out.” 

“absolutely.” you already have. you always will. “i’d rush over to help you, too.” you’d help aske with anything. anything. if you ever find the person who dared to put a hit out on the desperado, you’ll kill them. 

aske grins. “i’ll keep that in mind.” of course he’s being silly at a time like this. “anyway, i’d rather be worried about you than kept in the dark.” 

“really?”

“of course.” aske looks at you as if you’ve just started speaking in some sort of foreign tongue. you didn’t slip into primordial by accident, did you? “reides, isn’t it obvious that i want to know everything about you?” 

it’s a revelation that just slips out of him. you’re not sure if he even meant to say it; he goes a bit rigid beneath you once he realizes how much it implies. 

you already know that you love him, though. you haven’t quite told him yet - not beyond becoming established as a couple- but you do. “i want to know everything about you, too,” you say. “even the small things. like… your birthday.” 

“my birthday?” aske repeats, incredulous.

“yes.” it was the first thing that popped into your head - but now you really do need to know it. “when is it?”

“it’s in goldsky,” aske says. “goldsky 4.”

goldsky 4?! that was quite a while ago. “happy belated birthday, aske!” 

he chuckles. “thanks. how about you? when’s yours?” 

“firstlight 16.” 

“happy belated birthday to you, too, then,” aske says.  

it’s technically your hatching-day, since your people aren’t born - but you nod. the terms are essentially synonymous. “...i also want to know your favorite food.” you’ll need to learn how to cook it. surface cooking is still very difficult to you, but you have a cookbook, now. it might be easier if you can follow a list of rules. 

“oh, that’s salt water taffy,” aske states. “you knew that already.” he pops another piece of it into his mouth, emphasizing his point. 

“other than that,” you say. “actual food. not candy.” how does one make salt water taffy, anyway? maybe briar would know… 

“hm…” aske takes a moment to consider his options. “i guess… it’s fish soup. spicy fish soup.” 

for a few seconds, you don’t say anything. “...do you really love fish that much?” 

“no!” aske splutters. “well - yes! but this is different. i have a good reason for it!” he strokes your hair as he speaks. “there was this one winter… the seas were rough and we were running low on supplies. we resorted to dipping in to some of the cargo.” 

“you did?” you can’t imagine the kraken ever allowing that. 

aske nods gravely. “it was terrible. but, ha. jenkins.” aske says jenkins’ name with a great deal of fondness. “that guy found a jar of spices. no idea where the hell he procured it from, but he found it. he whipped up this soup… it was fantastic. the first bit of warmth we had in weeks.” 

you smile. aske complains about his fellow crewmates very often, but his love for them is so obvious. they’re like one big family. “that sounds amazing.”

“it was,” aske says. “to go from feeling like i’d wither away to eating that soup…” he shakes his head. “i’ll never forget it. every time i eat spicy fish soup, i remember it. if only we could indulge in that sort of cuisine during normal voyages…” he trails off, thinking - then blinks. “anyway - wow. didn’t mean to get all sentimental on you.”

“i like it when you’re all sentimental,” you say. “it’s a good story. life can be hard at sea, huh?”

“yeah…” aske nods. “sometimes. i still love it.” 

“me too.” it’s nice to traverse a space in-between the surface and the depths. you and the desperado have a lot in common.

“how about you?” aske asks. “what’s your favorite food? other than salt water taffy, of course.”

you smile, curling onto him some more. “that’s easy,” you say. “oysters. fresh oysters.” it’s been so long since you had them. the ones on the surface probably don’t taste as good as the ones in the deep sea. “my mother used to collect them for me. she taught me how to shuck them, too.” 

“did she, now?” aske grins. “are you any good at it?”

“of course!” you grin right back at him. “at least, i am underwater.” it can’t be much different on the surface. “my mother was a scavenger. she helped gather a lot of food for aquos.” 

“a scavenger…” aske murmurs. “she’s royalty now, right? so…?”

you nod. “yes. she was a commoner before she married into the royal family. apparently, it caused quite the stir, back in the day.” you can imagine how the nobles at court must have treated her. she went through a lot of bullshit to be as respected as she is now. “she’s a wonderful person. i can see how she got someone like my father to break tradition.” 

“your father…” aske frowns. he doesn’t say anything else.

for a while, you don’t, either. 

“he must be going absolutely ballistic right now,” you eventually say. “i can’t imagine him sitting still while some beast took over aquos.” the last time you saw him… it was right before you got tossed into that tower. his anger terrified you. but his anger right now must pale in comparison to that. “he’ll be right at the front of our army, trident in hand.”  

“and here i thought the tritons were such peaceful folk,” aske jokes. “could it be that the people of the sea lied to me?” 

he’s trying to make you feel better - and he succeeds. you laugh, sitting up. “don’t bring up that horrible book right now. persana will hear you and he’ll get all huffy and offended.” 

“even with this?” aske reaches into his shirt, tugging out the pendant that you gave him a few days ago. the primordial embossed into it shines in the lantern light. “didn’t you ask him to bless it before you gave it to me?” 

“i did,” you say. “we’d be doomed if you didn’t have it.” 

aske chuckles. “y’know, your grudge against p. valencia is becoming kinda hilarious. it makes me wonder if i should try hunting down a copy of that book, myself…”

“don’t!” you lean over aske, planting your hands by his sides. “it’d be a complete waste of gold. you shouldn’t support such awful misinformation.”

“hm…” 

“i’m serious, aske!” you’re laughing, though, which implies otherwise. 

“fine, fine.” aske puts his hands over yours. “you’re… okay, right? with going back…?” 

“i’m okay enough.” you smile. “briar told me something recently.” when reides was panicking about telling aske how he felt, in fact. “he said that storms aren’t all bad. they can bring change – but it isn’t necessarily bad change. good storms can disrupt stagnancy, or get rid of things that shouldn’t be around. this threat facing aquos… it shouldn’t be around. so maybe the storm prince can bring a good storm, you know? to counter the impact of the bad one.” you sigh. “i’m trying to think about my life moreso in those terms, now. it’s a lot to deal with, but… it’s my duty.”

you sound like viglis. 

by persana, you’ll be seeing him soon. he’s bound to give you an earful. you wonder how he’d react if you told him about aske. 

“you can do it,” aske says. “i know you can. i told you before: you’re brilliant. you can do anything.” 

“now you’re resorting to flattery,” you say.

“flattery has yet to fail me.” 

you have no comeback for that, so, instead, you press your lips against aske’s. he tastes like salt water taffy; you smile into the kiss. 

“i want to try jenkins’ spicy fish soup, someday,” you say as you part. 

“sure.” aske rests his head on your chest, and you wonder if he can hear your heartbeat. “once i get to try some of those fancy oysters, too.” 

vi.

with each passing day, the desperado gets closer and closer to the storm. closer and closer to aquos. 

eventually, you steel yourself enough to cast sending. you direct the spell towards lotlyn, and you tell her that it’ll be okay; that it’s your turn to save her, now. you try to sound confident, but, when you hear her reply - small and scared and barely above a whisper, urging you to come quickly - you almost burst into tears. you’re glad to hear from her - your beloved sister who risked so much for you. you have to save her. you must. 

aske tells you that it’ll be okay, and his embrace is as warm as ever.

the mere memory of his warmth is enough to keep you stable; grounded, even when the desperado enters the storm proper. ashara once told you to tell aske that he’s your anchor in stormy weather. it’s turning out to be all too true. 

the kraken is a formidable captain. she’s out on the deck more and more, spewing commands with an unshakeable confidence. aske is busy, busy, so very busy - as is the rest of the crew. many of them are doing this for the gold, but you’d like to think that it’s also for you and your friends. that it’s for aquos - even if they don’t know that it exists. the time for card games and trysts down in the hold has passed. 

it’s time to face everything you once sought to run so very far away from. 

even within the storm, the night watch system remains in effect. during your shift, you have to tie yourself down so that you don’t go careening off the side of the ship. it’s difficult to see through the pounding rain and wind; a thick sheet blanketing the night. thunder rolls all around you. streaks of lightning stab away at the horizon. 

your watch ends and you’re drenched. you opt to rest in a room close to the deck, just so you can help if something goes wrong. the elements leave you exhausted and you manage to sleep despite your nerves. it’s not a deep one - restless and fragmented, it’s plagued by nightmares. you see your father’s face, contorted in rage. you see your people - members of the royal guard, of nobility - raising their weapons against you. you see eyes full of hate. you see the massive doors of a tiny, tiny room. the sights only go away when you hear a screech; a blood-curdling screech that tears right through your dreams. 

you jolt awake and see kilwin and ashara, both in the same room as you. stunned. in the doorway is someone who you, at first, believe is a triton - but then you see the long tentacles spilling from their skull. their mouth opens up - blooming, like a flower - to reveal rows and rows of sharp, sharp teeth.

that’s not a triton.

something has gone wrong. 

you back up from the creature, casting mage armor on yourself. sounds of combat fill the air around you, and you wonder if these are the things that wrought havoc on your home. as you feel your spell’s protective energy wrap around you, you know exactly what you will do. 

you will have your revenge. 

vii.

waves upon waves of beasts climb onto the desperado. 

there are more deep scions, screeching and clawing and biting - and there are sea spawn, all warped and repulsive. your blood spills, as does the blood of your companions - but you all do your fair share of spilling, too. the deck is covered in splashes of red and blue and black. the surviving monstrosities direct their attention to the ship’s wheel and you all rush towards it. 

through it all, you worry. of course you worry. some of those beasts are definitely below deck, and aske is below deck. but you remember what he said. 

i’m not some spineless weakling, y’know. even if i can’t make giant webbed hands materialize out of nowhere.

you have to place your faith in him. you whisper another prayer to persana, just in case: please, give us all strength as we slay the beasts that are desecrating your domain. please, keep everyone safe. please, please - 

“you picked a bad time to return home.” a purple-skinned creature is looking your way. long tentacles hang from its face, and it is covered in barnacles. it speaks both common and primordial and tells you about the state of your home. about aquos. about your family. each word it says angers you, more and more - you demand to know who they are.

kal’dazzum. the name is unfamiliar to you, as is nakros - the name of the vessel it has possessed. 

but you don’t need familiarity right now. 

you just need it to die.

the following fight is even more taxing than the first. a sahuagin joins the fray, and you remember all of the things you read about them as a child. the sahuagin have tried to wage war against aquos many, many times in the past. your family always thwarted them. your people always thwarted them. 

this time won’t be any different. 

you and your companions emerge victorious. upon slaying nakros, you see all of the monstrosities transform back into their original forms. even nakros’ corpse becomes that of a triton. the kraken emerges, scimitar in hand and covered in blood that is, thankfully, not her own. you have endless questions, but you can hardly focus. the sky has begun to clear. 

you’ve reached the eye of the storm. you’ve reached laverathia. 

the kraken allows you all to take a break before you depart - and so you sprint down the stairs, diving below deck. please, persana, please - 

you see him. 

aske. 

he’s sitting on a barrel, covered in blood - but it’s the blood of those monsters. he doesn’t seem wounded. he just seems tired. you rush towards him, giving thanks to persana. he clutches two scimitars - one in each of his hands. their blades are covered in blue blood. a part of you wishes that you saw him put them to use in slaying the sea spawn, but it’s a foolish part of you. the same foolish part of you that swooned when you saw him lifting up barrels, back when you first boarded the desperado. you’re quick to stifle it, as, if you saw aske in danger, you know you’d be too worried to think. 

it’s only when you know that he’s okay that you can survey the sight around you.

dead tritons. dead elves. dead dwarves. no longer sea spawn, they are their true selves once more. it pains you to see them. it pains you immensely. just what is this evil? what sort of being is this kal’dazzum? thankfully, the crew of the desperado is okay. clive and jenkins are busy with fixing up the damaged parts of the vessel. 

aske and kilwin help you with giving the fallen tritons a proper send-off. you return their bodies to the sea and you pray for them; you pray so much for them. persana is hearing quite a lot from you these days. kilwin and jorah get to work with administering the rites for the fallen surfacers and you lean against aske, trying to keep your breathing steady. everything is so horrifying, but you’re glad that he’s here. you’re glad that you’re here. you’re glad that you can do something about all of this. 

it’s so much better than covering your ears and running away. 

viii.

the hour passes. aske takes you to a quiet corner of the desperado once more.

“i know you have to do this,” he says, “but it still sucks to see you go.” 

he’s sad; very sad. you’re sad, too. still, you have to say it: “you love to watch me leave, though, right?” 

“...don’t push your luck!” 

“i’m sorry.” you laugh. “try not to worry too much about me, aske. it’ll be okay.” you have to keep telling yourself that it will be. 

“i think so, too,” aske says. “in the meantime, i’ll be sipping brandy in davenport, awaiting your heroic return.” he’s planning on taking some time off after this, thanks to the hefty salary that he’ll be receiving from this voyage. 

“remember to give your father the letter that i wrote for him,” you say, smoothing the front of aske’s shirt for him. 

“oh, gods…” aske grimaces. “i will, if you’re sure about it.” 

“of course i’m sure about it!” you want to introduce yourself to aske’s father very badly. you wish that you could go to davenport with him; that your introductions could take place in-person rather than on a piece of parchment. but a letter is better than nothing. “it’s a nice letter, aske. trust me - it doesn’t say anything embarrassing about you at all.” you wonder if that clarification will make aske suspect that it does. 

“can i at least read it before i give it to him?” 

“absolutely not.” you smile wide, and aske sighs - unable to suppress his own smile. 

“fine,” he says.

“i’ll contact you via sending when i’m able,” you say. “remember that it has that word limit, okay? try not to get cut off when you reply.” you also have a new spell: dream. you decide to keep it secret for now.

“i’ll try,” aske says. he rubs the back of his neck. “i guess i’ll see you when i see you.” 

before you can say anything, he pulls you in. 

you clutch onto his shoulders, the gesture honest and desperate. you don’t want to leave him. you know you must. his lips are on yours and your heart thunders in your chest. you will be brave. you must be brave. 

“i love you.” 

“i love you, too.” aske’s words tremble under the weight of that love. you understand all too well. it’s terrifying to admit it. to give someone else that power over you. but you’ll give it all to aske, and he’ll give it all to you. no matter the distance that spans between the two of you. no matter what each of you must do. no matter what happens to this world - so vast and scary and shitty and wonderful. 

you love each other. 

he hasn’t let go of you. not yet. 

you keep on clutching onto him. 

ix.

you take a deep breath of the salty surface-air, heavy from the surrounding storm. there’s no turning back now. some of your companions have already gone into the sea. they’re all safely under the influence of your water-breathing spell.

you kiss aske again - the gesture quick and confident and delightfully familiar. 

you leave his arms, running across the desperado’s deck. she’s no longer radiating heat, thanks to the storm that she’s traversed - but she’s sturdy all the same. you approach her wooden railing. you take a great big leap. 

you connect with the deep blue below and you let it pull you under. 

you miss aske already, but you don’t look back at the desperado. you don’t look towards the surface. there’s only one path to follow, now - and it’s one that goes forward. it’s one that will lead you right back into aske’s arms, someday. 

you will protect the ones you cherish. 

your love will give you strength.