Sarinah took the opportunity presented to her to escape before the dawn, the words of her owner ringing in her ears from the night before. She’d confronted the fiery red head, with questions about her contract. It was clear to the brunette that the woman was not happy with question that Tristaan had raised, and that she didn’t intent to let Sarinah go without a fight. Frustrated, confused and lost, the young dancer had slept on it. Now with the morning, she fled the Queen to wander through the streets of the Rose down to the docks. It had been a few days since she’d seen the grey eyed wick from her room, and he had promised to show her how to look after herself.
As she walked, the olive skinned wick smiled a private smile, dressed in her tattered shirt and jodhpurs, arms wrapped around herself against the chill pre-dawn morning. They had slept in the same room, he on the floor and she in the bed, with no expectations or asks. It had been difficult though, her eyes open in the dark when they should be shut, listening to the gentle breathing of the man in the dark. Her heart had fluttered in her chest a few times as he tossed and turned, but eventually she had closed her eyes. On the morning, she woke safe and sound, true to his word. To see him leave had been almost sad, but it was made better with promises to visit him at the dock.
It was moony, really clocking moony, but the brunette couldn’t wait to see him again. If someone were to label it, Sarinah had a crush on Tristaan. He’d swooped in and saved the day, not only physically but also with his revelation around her freedom. Or possible freedom. He had had given her a friendly ear that not just listened but understood and helped.
Arriving at the dock just as the sky was beginning to change from black to a deep blue, the dancer approached a group of young children already up for the day, selling papers or hawking their own small collection of trinkets. They looked at the witch warily, and she offered them a broad grin, lowering herself to their level as she came closer.
“Hesta bochi, ent any of ye know where I can find Tristaan…” She faded off, realising she didn’t know the man’s last name. How clocking stupid.
One of the children, a young red-headed human boy jumped up with a smile.
“Yeah! He’s down that way, probably. I dunno if he’s still around though. Got himself in trouble with some big fella. All knocked up, but I heard he kicked his arse.” The other children giggled helplessly at the swear as the woman stood again. Their laughter followed Sarinah as she nodded her thanks and moved towards the direction he’d pointed her, brown eyes searching the dock hands for the familiar dark haired wick.
Her smile had dropped a little, concern in her stomach turning slowly. What if the wick had left? Or worse. What if Scarlett or Hawke had sent someone to ‘talk’ to him after last night. The smile turned into a frown as she looked around, hoping for the former over the latter.
As she wandered, the sky lightened a little more, sunrise creeping ever closer. Crews were moving from their ships to the cargo on the busy dock, and back again, a few eyes glancing at the witch with sky grins or even a moment of vague recognition.
“That’s Mistress Dove ain’t it?” One of the younger men said as he handed a box to his colleague on the gangplank of their ship. The other, an older greying sailor looked over and chuckled.
“Aye, it is. Don’t see her down here, should go and see if she’s off the books. Might finally afford some of her....time.” They laughed again, as they continued to work, smiling at the witch as she walked past.
“Mornin’ Mistress Dove. You look lost love. Might be something we can help you with?” The younger man called out with a grin, not impolite but not entirely sincere.