Rocky Road 15: Wind in the Sails
Title: Wind in the Sails
Main Story: In the Heart: EPIC PIRATE AU
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Rocky road 15 (treetops), malt (PFAH: Summer: and the wind kicks up with the smell of rain), chopped nuts (EPIC PIRATE AU), cherry (no dialogue/description/historical fiction).
Word Count: 756
Rating: PG.
Summary: Summer's been waiting her whole life for this.
Notes: I'm going to try and make this AU semi-realistic, so please poke at any historical holes you see. Thanks!
As soon as they were properly under way, as soon as Summer couldn't see her parents waving from the dock anymore, she climbed up into the crow's nest and stared at the coast until her eyes hurt, trying to catch every last glimpse of England that she could.
They sailed from Plymouth. They always had, as long as Summer could remember, and she had memories of the ship tossing under her and her father tucking her under his oilskins, holding her up at the bow to feel the spray on her face. That was when she was very little, before her father retired and gave the ship over to her brother. Not that Aaron kept it long. Everyone understood that he was only keeping it for Ivy. Why, he hadn't taken a single ship in his whole five years as captain.
He'd done plenty of legitimate jobs, of course, but no one cared about legitimate jobs. Or so her father always said, with a laugh and a wink.
A pain clutched at her heart; she would not see her father laugh and wink for nearly a year. She put her hand to her chest and pressed, and thought of something else.
Summer had grown up in the shadow of the sea. She swam before she could walk, knew every deckhand and dockworker by name before she ever met some of her own kin. She could remember being on the other side of this departure, remembered climbing up the hill, her hand in her mother's up all that way, to watch the ship go sailing out. She wanted so badly, then, to go sailing away.
Now she watched the coast. She could, if she squinted, still see the rise of Plymouth, barely topping the trees, and the edges of the docks beyond the ragged coast. But she didn't look at it too much, because when she did tears welled up in her eyes and she had to blink very hard before she could see again. All that green blurred her eyes anyway, the dark leafy color of the trees tossing in the wind that bore them away from England, the lighter grassy color of the slopes down towards the water, interrupted by sudden shocking white before the grey-blue sea.
She would miss that.
She was running out of England to miss, now. The coast was slowly dropping away as they turned south towards the continent and the larger sea. They'd sail down the coast of France, turn and cross the sea from Spain, arrive in the Caribbean before the end of the summer and begin marauding. Summer liked the word "marauding," and she rather thought she'd enjoy the activity too. It was only...
She knew why she had to go. The trouble in London, the king's Papist leanings and troubling Parliament-- her mama and her papa wanted her safe away, and these days even piracy was safer. But she'd miss England, and everything it was; home, safe. Her mama, making bread, dickering in the market, gossiping with the neighbors, teaching Summer her letters. Her papa, going out with the fishermen in the mornings, bringing his catch back in the evenings, mending his nets in front of the fire, telling her stories of his privateer days. The dockworkers who ruffled her hair and called her "sweetheart" when she accompanied her father to the docks to see him off. All the people she knew, all the people who were kind to her even when she stumbled. She would miss them so much.
Summer turned around, stared out to sea. Today it was a hazy grey-blue, flecked with whitecaps kicked up by the wind. There was rain in the heavy grey bellies of the clouds above; she could smell it, like the old wet stones of the dock, or moss just opened undr the trees. They'd be soaked through before the day was over, but it wouldn't be too bad a blow, and maybe it would hide her state. She wouldn't want Ivy or Aaron to worry.
All those days staring out at the sea, watching it change from deep blue to pale green to slate grey and every shade between. She knew the rhythm of the sea and the sky better than she knew her own heartbeat, now. It felt like an old friend, but it wasn't hers. Not yet.
All those days watching the ocean, wondering where her sister and brother were and wishing to be there, she took them all back now, and wished she was home.
Main Story: In the Heart: EPIC PIRATE AU
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Rocky road 15 (treetops), malt (PFAH: Summer: and the wind kicks up with the smell of rain), chopped nuts (EPIC PIRATE AU), cherry (no dialogue/description/historical fiction).
Word Count: 756
Rating: PG.
Summary: Summer's been waiting her whole life for this.
Notes: I'm going to try and make this AU semi-realistic, so please poke at any historical holes you see. Thanks!
As soon as they were properly under way, as soon as Summer couldn't see her parents waving from the dock anymore, she climbed up into the crow's nest and stared at the coast until her eyes hurt, trying to catch every last glimpse of England that she could.
They sailed from Plymouth. They always had, as long as Summer could remember, and she had memories of the ship tossing under her and her father tucking her under his oilskins, holding her up at the bow to feel the spray on her face. That was when she was very little, before her father retired and gave the ship over to her brother. Not that Aaron kept it long. Everyone understood that he was only keeping it for Ivy. Why, he hadn't taken a single ship in his whole five years as captain.
He'd done plenty of legitimate jobs, of course, but no one cared about legitimate jobs. Or so her father always said, with a laugh and a wink.
A pain clutched at her heart; she would not see her father laugh and wink for nearly a year. She put her hand to her chest and pressed, and thought of something else.
Summer had grown up in the shadow of the sea. She swam before she could walk, knew every deckhand and dockworker by name before she ever met some of her own kin. She could remember being on the other side of this departure, remembered climbing up the hill, her hand in her mother's up all that way, to watch the ship go sailing out. She wanted so badly, then, to go sailing away.
Now she watched the coast. She could, if she squinted, still see the rise of Plymouth, barely topping the trees, and the edges of the docks beyond the ragged coast. But she didn't look at it too much, because when she did tears welled up in her eyes and she had to blink very hard before she could see again. All that green blurred her eyes anyway, the dark leafy color of the trees tossing in the wind that bore them away from England, the lighter grassy color of the slopes down towards the water, interrupted by sudden shocking white before the grey-blue sea.
She would miss that.
She was running out of England to miss, now. The coast was slowly dropping away as they turned south towards the continent and the larger sea. They'd sail down the coast of France, turn and cross the sea from Spain, arrive in the Caribbean before the end of the summer and begin marauding. Summer liked the word "marauding," and she rather thought she'd enjoy the activity too. It was only...
She knew why she had to go. The trouble in London, the king's Papist leanings and troubling Parliament-- her mama and her papa wanted her safe away, and these days even piracy was safer. But she'd miss England, and everything it was; home, safe. Her mama, making bread, dickering in the market, gossiping with the neighbors, teaching Summer her letters. Her papa, going out with the fishermen in the mornings, bringing his catch back in the evenings, mending his nets in front of the fire, telling her stories of his privateer days. The dockworkers who ruffled her hair and called her "sweetheart" when she accompanied her father to the docks to see him off. All the people she knew, all the people who were kind to her even when she stumbled. She would miss them so much.
Summer turned around, stared out to sea. Today it was a hazy grey-blue, flecked with whitecaps kicked up by the wind. There was rain in the heavy grey bellies of the clouds above; she could smell it, like the old wet stones of the dock, or moss just opened undr the trees. They'd be soaked through before the day was over, but it wouldn't be too bad a blow, and maybe it would hide her state. She wouldn't want Ivy or Aaron to worry.
All those days staring out at the sea, watching it change from deep blue to pale green to slate grey and every shade between. She knew the rhythm of the sea and the sky better than she knew her own heartbeat, now. It felt like an old friend, but it wasn't hers. Not yet.
All those days watching the ocean, wondering where her sister and brother were and wishing to be there, she took them all back now, and wished she was home.