Our Demise 🌈

5 - Strongest Weapon

Rory tried really hard to control his anger, but it felt like someone had stolen his soul now he no longer possessed Plague and Omen. The blood in which the two blades had been drenched, had always given him strength and he had never been separated from his weapons before. With savage swings, he scrubbed the stove and the surrounding tables. Three days had passed since his captain had taken his daggers, but with every hour passing by his blood started to boil more furiously. 

It was just fucking unfair. He did every shitty task on this godforsaken ship and they were still making fun of him. He longed back to the days on the Imo Gen, which had been his home for so long. He missed the crow's nest, where the wind was pulling at his hair and he was finding himself above every other man for once. Scouring the horizon to find land or other ships, knowing much depended on his alertness. He thought back to the time he had been in the nest with Finn, showing his friend how to sharpen his daggers. It was the only time he had voluntarily lent his weapons. Even with Finn's missing memories, he had trusted the boy. 

"Calm down kid." A heavy hand landed on his shoulder. "Ye don't have to polish the wood, huh?"

With a sigh, Rory's shoulders slumped down. He just didn't know what to do with his frustration. 

"Why don't ye cut the meat for me?" Baldur plopped a large amount of meat at the table, its shape telling him it had probably been a sheep. "I'll do the veggies."

From the corner of his eyes, Rory looked at the chubby cook. Because of the heat that filled the place, his blonde curls stuck to his face. The man showed him a disarming smile, appeasing him a bit. Baldur and Kidd were the only members of the new crew he felt comfortable around. Something gave him the feeling the man sensed how much he missed his daggers and purposefully wanted to hand him a knife to cut the meat to pieces. At last, he could respond to the dark feelings inside him, imagining it was Markus' body that he was slicing. Ever since Rory had set foot on this ship, the man had done nothing but try to humiliate him and draw him out. And when Rory could no longer control himself and wanted to put him in place, that fucker had walked straight to the captain. Now, who was the spoiled brat around here? He was a fucking snitch.

His fingers closed around the hilt of the knife. A sting of loss traveled through his body. Oh, how he wanted to hold his own daggers for just a minute... Never before he had been unable to touch them. They had been his talismans and without them, he felt cursed. 

"Ye know what weapon is more effective than a dagger?" Baldur asked, who had displayed a few carrots and started to chop them. 

"Well?" Rory grumbled. He kept his eyes focused on the meat that was still leaking blood. He had been in the galley before, so he knew what to do. Cleaning the galley was the nicest of his tasks, especially because Markus wasn't constantly lurking over him. Baldur liked to give him some extra tasks to keep him busy and Markus didn't seem to be in the mood to discuss his tasks with the cook. 

"A smile," Baldur answered.

Frowning, he looked aside. Baldur showed him a wide smile as if he was trying to prove a point. 

Rory huffed. 

"I'm serious boy. Markus is tryin' to get ye down. Show him he can't. Sing, dance, and laugh tonight. Act in a way he doesn't want ye to while he has no right to say somethin' 'bout it."

Rory thought about it for a while. Most nights were filled with music. Baldur played the accordion and Kidd a whistle, and there were more men who pulled up their instruments at night. Up to now, Rory had only stood around with a sulky face. His back turned towards the others, looking out over the ocean while he thought about Finn's fate and the many men that had died in the past weeks. It felt wrong to feast — and yet, he knew what Lee's answer would be. The fact that they were still alive was worth celebrating. Every day, according to him.