Prisoner of Tenerife Sea

Chapter 3: Awkwardness and memories

Harry rubbed the red indents encircling his wrists. He sat against the same pole he had earlier, waiting for the feeling to come back into his hands and feet.

Eboninea stood patiently with her hands relaxed at her side beside him. She didn't immediately speak when her and Louis made a reappearance, but now with the heavy silence; there was no hope like the present. With a soft clear of her throat, she spoke.

"Your captain is awaiting our presence in my quarters. Liam is keeping him company until I return." She informed Harry, watching him simply glance up at her and swallow. His eyes were dark with jade-colored hues; they shone like diamonds in the darkest cave in the seas and were perfectly outlined by fatigue due to his poor choice of defying her, but now he was calm. Harry had no choice he had reasoned many hours before; he was doing this so that Eboninea would spare his son's life. This all depended on his ability to do as she ordered.

Clearing her throat again, she smiled. His innocent hues were staring but his mind was many a mile away.

"Before we can conduct our meeting with Captain Sheeran, you must bathe and change before you enter my cabin. Louis will assist you with your bath. He will be there to assure your cooperation and make sure that there are no escape attempts. The metal tub I use is awaiting your presence by the arms area. It is already filled with hot rose water." Eboninea explained, reaching her hand down to help Harry from the floor. His spaced-out look turning to incredulous contempt.

Louis chuckled with good humor.

"The rose water will neutralize the stink. Your odor is offending the rest of us and you will wash it away for the love of God and country. You reek of cow shite and death. I heavily advise that ye take advantage of our hospitality while it is offered as there be not many luxuries on a pirate's ship." Louis furthered the captains explicate; reaching up and hauling Harry to his unsteady feet, holding him upright until he regained his balance.

Eboninea nearly laughed when she saw Harry's glare.

Louis had clearly wounded the first officer with his words.

No matter. The merchant was only a small part to a bigger scheme. She'd need his full cohesion to make everything run smoothly.

"Louis? Take Master Styles here to the deck above. There be some oils laid at the side for his hair. If more water should be needed, I will relieve Liam to assist. There should be enough though. Do make sure he takes full advantage of them as there seems to be blood everywhere on him. Fresh clothes are already hanging by the basin for when he finishes. When he is done; have him wash his face before dressing and then escort him untied to my cabin. He will dine with Captain Sheeran and myself." Eboninea ordered, leaving the two men to follow.

Harry walked slowly; his legs stiff from his restraints. Louis walked beside him, his hand gently gripping Harry's arm to keep the bloke steady. He was still unbalanced.

"I'm afraid the midday meal here is limited for the rest of your crew. You may thank a few subordinates on thy side for that. Apologies in advance as we will be dining on better provisions than your crew or thine." She explained, looking towards Louis pointedly. "That goes for you too, Tomlinson. You will dine with the crew today." She let him know, noticing his eyes drop down toward the floor. He nodded silently, his head diligently bouncing his soft wavering curls.

"Of course, cap'in. Your order will always be thy command my lady." Louis replied softly with respect, helping Harry toward the ladder away from the nasty animal smell. He wasn't that hungry anyhow. He never was as of late.

Her crew and Sheeran's would get only gruel and hardtack for tea. She and the other captain would dine on cooked swine and fresh fruits and vegetables. A loaf of bread had just been baked and the milk gathered from her own cows was used to churn butter. It was a simple meal, but one she would share with Sheeran and Styles.