A fresh start awaits Astrid at Southern Weyr.

Allusions of domestic violence


It is noon of the seventh day of the seventh month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.


Docks, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 21 Mar 2018 04:00



“Come aboard then.”



In dark morn and dusky eve fog lies grim and humid against the still waters of Azov Sea. Only the noontime sun burns away the concealing clouds of man's height, revealing that which lies beneath the mist- an awe-inspiring stone pier that stretches far into the inland sea, to the east of the line of orderly boat-slips for the locals and larger, open spaces for transport ships. Fishermen are often as common as seagulls upon the pier's length in particular, ill-concealed and ill-clothed in the loose dun homespun of Southern's natives.

Two sevendays ago…

Astrid was not a stowaway. She had offered the Captain several marks to board and for safe passage to the furthest port from Tillek Hold. The charcoal coloring of her thick knitted shawl wrapped around her willowy frame and contrasted with her pale complexion, and he could see the discoloration of skin around her right eye no matter how she tried to conceal her face. Her eye hadn’t swollen shut at that point but the older man could see that she had suffered some kind of injury.

She was dressed in drab colored trous and at least had on a pair of boots with a decent amount of tread left at their soles. She wouldn’t slip and slide all over the deck if she were up and about, and she didn’t look as if she cared where the vessel was bound to sail. He knew that she was fleeing something or someone, that was plain to tell. The way the young woman clung to a single bag made him guess whether or not she held all of her possessions against her chest.

He couldn’t take her marks. Instead, the Captain looked at her and the way she held the shawl tightly around her body — somehow he knew she had other injuries that she was hiding. He sensed her distress even though she hid it well from what he could see of her face and then asked for her name.

“Trina.” Astrid lied. How she could lie to the Captain shocked her and her body trembled in honest reaction. She didn’t want to lie to the man taking pity on her, but she had to give him a false name. If she were being followed, she didn’t want her real name to give away her whereabouts. “What is your vessel’s destination?”

“Southern continent. We’re fishing along the coast and won’t make it to port for at least two sevendays.” the Captain replied. “You’ll be stuck aboard as we go about our daily business.” He wondered if she knew what that truly meant — she wasn’t dressed for a fishing trip at all. Something else told him that the young woman didn’t care what she had to endure to leave the Sea Hold as quickly and as far away as possible.

Astrid’s pulse quickened at the thought of making port on the Southern continent. It’d take a while to get there but she would be grateful just to have the opportunity to leave. To get away from Tillek. Now. “That’s fine, good sir.” was her weak reply. She started to get the faint taste of metal in her mouth again and swallowed whatever amount of blood that was pooling against her teeth.

“Come aboard then.” As soon as she had permission, Astrid stepped off the dock and onto the fishing boat where a small crew of Seacrafters prepared to set sail. She still clutched her bag against her chest and stood in the way of things, unsure of where she should go. “Here.” The Captain returned with a poncho and held it out for her to take. “You’ll be needin’ this to keep yourself dry. Now make yourself small.”

She did just that. Astrid knew that the Captain took pity on her and she had no intention of getting in anyone’s way. It was only when she crouched and huddled against a large wooden barrel on the starboard side of the boat that she realized that they were moving out into the water, and that her side ached. Aggrieved skin rubbed against the thin fabric of her shirt. Part of her wanted to look back at Tillek’s port, but her heart was beating too fast for her to actually move. She was leaving it all behind. For good.

As she settled against the side of the barrel, she took the poncho and splayed it over her body to keep warm. She kept the bag pinned between her drawn up legs and chest and pulled the shawl against her neck to help stave away the cold ocean air. If she were to thrive on this trip, she would need to endure whatever lay ahead of the crew and the boat in terms of rain, wind, and rough ocean travel. Astrid pulled the shawl tighter around herself while watching the crew busy themselves with their tasks as their Captain navigated them out to sea.

She made herself small.

Present day…

“You take care now, Miss.” said the Captain. He helped Astrid onto the dock and followed her a few yards before turning to regard the boat. Two sevendays out at sea had earned them a fair amount of work and they were not finished with their voyage. They still had to set sail for Tillek. Only, first, the Captain made good on his promise to deliver the young woman to the furthest port from the Sea Hold.

Astrid took one long look at the Weyr before pivoting to look back at the Captain beneath the veil of her shawl. Her eye was swollen and bruised, but the worst of the injury had peaked only a few days ago — she was finally on the mend. “Thank you. Your kindness won’t be forgotten.” she rasped and hitched her bag up closer to her chest. The thick fabric of the shawl helped keep the cold air from reaching her skin and she yearned for a hot bath and a warm meal. She nodded at the sea Captain, turned, and started to make her way off the wooden dock.

The Captain watched a moment to make sure Trina knew where she was going. There was a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that hoped she would be all right on her own, yet somehow he knew this one was a survivor. “Was a pleasure.” He drew a deep breath into his lungs before turning to board his vessel where his crew awaited him. They were now setting sail for home.

Astrid stepped off the dock and suddenly realized that she was alone and very much without help. She knew not a soul at the Weyr and yet she walked onward toward the entrance with courage — she had no other option to feel any different. Here she would start a new life, here she would heal. Here she would find a new occupation and make her own marks to afford the things she always wanted. She was in control of her life now. No one else could force her to dress a certain way or handfast for security.

There was no need to look back, she wasn’t going that way. Instead, Astrid dug deep for courage, clutched her bag, and took her first steps inside of Southern Weyr.

A fresh start awaited her.

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