Sailor's smile

"You'll walk for this." The words echoed through Robin's mind since the moment Captain Rochards had said them. He hadn't yelled like she might have imagined; he'd smiled. When news reached him that Aunai had been talking of mutiny behind closed doors, the captain had stomped down from his quarters and dragged her out of bed by her long auburn hair. His crooked gold grin had burned itself into Robin's eyelids, torturing her on every blink.

Aunai had been confined to the captain's quarters and stayed there. Robin would never have guessed if the first mate had not bragged about it, with that ugly smile. Aunai did not cry out for Robin, justice, or revenge. There was dignity in that silence, though the captain's men called it cowardice.

Robin's hands were on a mop and bucket, but her mind was in the cabin with Aunai. No doubt she was hoping for a savior. Someone to speak for her, fight for her, even die for her. The real coward was not in the cabin, staying strong and silent. She was on the deck, pushing dirty water around the planks that Aunai would take her final steps.

"Hey, you were the traitor's little friend, right?" Robin turned to the voice with unseeing eyes. It was a woman, but all she saw was her snaggle-toothed grin. A toothless smile told her, "A smart sailor is loyal to no one but his captain, eh?" His nudge to her shoulder sent her on her way to the other side of the deck towards another toothy smile. "I love to watch 'em walk, but I love it even more when they need a shove."

Every yellow tooth and silver cap flashed at her, bit away at Robin's composure. It was almost a relief when they pulled Aunai from the Captain's quarters, to see someone's expression reflecting her own. Relief swiftly turned to pain when she limped out of the shadows. Her freckles had disappeared behind a motley of bruising, her bright green eyes squinted shut and swollen, and her bright auburn hair matted and ripped short.

Robin had been the one to bring Aunai to the sea in the first place. Two years before, when she was a braver fool, she'd lured Aunai with tales of splendor and opportunity. They'd dreamed of their own ship, a crew, and an open ocean of opportunities.

Life was a cruel joke. The splendor of life at sea was a trick of the light of youth. The opportunities dried up like water in a southern sun. And the open ocean was not full of adventure, but a watery grave waiting to swallow them all.

The crew jeered and showed their slimy grins as Aunai passed them. She walked with dignity, her head raised high and her feet moving on their own, though she limped something awful.

"Open it up," Captain Rochard demanded in his heavy drawl. Eager to see her walk, more than enough crewmen moved to open the latch of the gate door. "Not you," he told them, "you."

His words did not reach Robin's ears. She was too busy drinking in her final image of her friend. Aunai did not look at her; her eyes focused on the horizon, far away, with nothing but the ocean between them. Was it to save Robin from being implicated or because she thought her guilty of betrayal, Robin could not be sure. Robin could not be sure of her own guilty place in the farce.

When she was shoved forward, towards the latch, she got the message. Compliance was like a bad habit; painful but too familiar to fight. Her fingers fumbled at the latch, but the door swung open nonetheless. Down below, the ocean was daunting, slamming against the hull like angry fists.

The captain cleared his throat, as he always did before a speech, but Aunai did not give him the satisfaction. Too quick to track, she stomped on the feet of the men guiding her and shook them off. With nowhere to run, her boots carried her to the promised freedom of the sea.

Aunai turned to Robin before taking her final leap. For a second, she looked as she had on the first day they'd met. Her youthful features, bright and healthy. Her beauty was breathtaking, and all hers. Robin turned her back on her, too filled with grief to allow the moment to go on. When she turned back, the deck was a mess of confusion, and Aunai was gone. The only sign she'd ever been there was her wet bootprints, already drying in the sun.

Robin went to sleep in her bunk that night, to the sound of the crew celebrating up above. Next to her, lay Aunai's bunk, her blankets still strewn on the floor from when she'd been drug from her sleep.

"You'll walk for this." Those words had haunted her, and they probably always would. Robin had seen men thrown overboard; Aunai would have drowned, just like the rest. Or gotten torn apart like chum in the water. That would be a mercy. A quick death. However, Robin was too selfish, too weak to watch her die, so she left her an escape that would never work.

Robin would like to think that she'd used her last ounce of bravery the night before, a glimpse of the girl Aunai had met. But she knew it was not bravery that made her act.

Knowing she would not sleep after Aunai was taken by the captain, she'd stared at the swinging hammock above her and bided her time. When she was sure the bodies around her were taken by sleep, she slipped out of the cabin. It took her all night to do, but the effects of her decision would gnaw on her for far longer.

The rowboat was tied tightly against the sloped hull, invisible from the deck. Under the cover of night, Aunai could slip away unseen. All so Robin could sleep with the deniability, that Aunai could have been granted a miracle. She could be headed for land, where she'd live out her days happily. Or get picked up on another ship. Robin might even run into her one day. No doubt, she would look for her in every crowd.

When the sun rose again, she continued her friend's legacy. Aunai sewed the seeds of a mutiny, and Robin watered them with dedication. A raised brow here, a well-placed quip there, a missing item turning up in the wrong place; anything to rip the crew apart. Like flies, the smiles that had tormented her fell.

It took only two moons for the fighting to start. Robin lay on her back in the crow's nest, gazing up at the dimming sky, when the yelling started. She was so high in the warm dusk air that she could reach out and touch the heavens, but she did not. Instead, she listened to hell break loose below her.

When steel sang and gunpowder burned her nose, Robin was the only one smiling. Her wild grin stretched the muscles on her face until they burned, but she held it. She stood when the fighting dwindled and the blades finished their tune. The sounds of violence were replaced with voices, the splash of spent companions going overboard, and barrels of wine being cracked open. She watched them drink and laugh, clean their blades, and smile.

Her own face was still cracked open, stretching over a feral grin. They all showed their teeth together. And so did her driftwood bow, when she let her arrows fly. When the quiver was empty, she let her smile fall and her shoulders unwind.

Hand over foot, she climbed down to the deck of her ship. At the wheel, she looked out over the endless ocean. There in the distance, a dark shape bobbed on the waves, flickering in and out of view beneath the moonlight. Perhaps it was a rowboat, or maybe it was just a mirage that would disappear before the ship got to it. Or it's Robin's conscience rocking in the wild waves of her mind. The wind filled the sails, and enough regrets filled her mind to carry her to the end of the world.