Six months passed, and Saoirse was increasingly unsure if she wanted to slit Reka's throat or share her bed.
Both were possibilities. Possibilities that were entirely too achievable.
She had been sleeping in the captain's quarters ever since she took the knife, whether as a reward or a test or a power play she couldn't tell.
They didn't sleep together, nor did she have a bed of her own. She slept on the floor at the foot of Reka's bed like a dog. Better than her previous lodgings with the rest of the crew, but undeniably humiliating.
Some nights she was just happy for the nicer blanket and pillow. Some she silently wept at her demeaning treatment, still forced to do all the jobs no one else wanted even now that she was the captain's pet.
(Though, perhaps she had been her pet since she was brought on board, and it just took time for her to realize.)
And some nights, she took her dagger in hand and watched Reka sleep.
She couldn't kill her. It would serve no purpose, even if she could somehow fight off the entire crew. She'd be drifting alone until she died, and she would never see her skin again.
But she could think about it.
Reka had to want her to try, right? Some bizarre trial, so she could cackle about how they weren't so different after all before throwing her into the brig to begin the next stage of whatever she was planning. Give her a knife, give her an opportunity, and then just apply pressure until she snapped.
The ship groaned as it was rocked by the waves, and Saoirse rose from her makeshift nest in one smooth, practiced motion.
Reka slept rather soundly, for a murderer. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically, and Saoirse watched for any minuscule change in that rhythm as she stood at the end of her bed and waited for her eyes to adjust to the inky darkness.
She would not snap. She would not play Reka's game.
The ship swayed and creaked, and she took slow steps in time with it until she loomed over her captor. Her breathing remained constant. She didn't stir.
But what to do, to assert her victory? Not kill her, of course, but prove that she could have, that Reka wasn't as untouchable as she thought.
Sweat dripped down Saoirse's brow, her heart pounded nearly out of her chest.
A new scar, perhaps? No, no, that could just be interpreted as a failed attempt on her life. It was all worthless if Reka didn't know that she had won.
She slipped the dagger back into it's jeweled sheathe with shaking hands. Blinked the sweat from her eyes, and let her breathing slow to match Reka's.
With imperceptible slowness, she slipped the dagger beneath her captain's pillow. Lifted her head just slightly, in time with the rocking movements of the ship, to position it just right.
This would show her.
Saoirse withdrew as slowly as she had bestowed her mocking trophy.
And then she waited.
Watched.
Long minutes passed in the dark.
Nothing.
She walked back to the foot of the bed, steps disguised by the sounds of the ship.
More watching, unblinking, for the slightest evidence she had failed.
None came. Her victory was perfect. In the morning, Reka would understand that she wasn't to be fucking played with.
She waited for a particularly loud creak, and dropped to the ground.
"You know what the difference between us is, lass?"
No.
Saoirse sat bolt upright, and watched Reka pull the dagger out from under her pillow.
No! NONONONONO-
"Me, if our places were reversed, I would have killed you on the first night. Just for thinking you could fuck with me."
"How?" She hissed, furious.
"But you, you might want to kill me, sure, but you're a thinker. Killing me would feel good, and that's reason enough for me to do it, but you know deep down that you need me."
"I was perfect. How?"
"In a moment. See, that's what I think makes you so valuable. If you want something, you'll do whatever it takes to get it."
Saoirse barely listened, devastated by her failure. She- She had beaten her. She was sure. Reka struck a match and lit a lantern, having paused her speech to watch her wrack her brain for answers.
"Don't beat yourself up too much now lass. Here, congratulations!" She tossed the dagger back to her. "You've earned your rescue. Next time we dock, you're free to go."
Saoirse said nothing. This was pity, and she knew it, and after another moment of watching Reka grinned monstrously.
"But, I can see you really wanted to impress me. If you stay, lass, ohhh." She said, licking her lips. "We could be very useful to eachother, we could. I love a dog that's eager to impress. And, were I so impressed..." She purred, shifting forward to lean over Saoirse. "I could scare the secrets from your fisherman, lass."
Saoirse closed her eyes and whined.
She wanted her skin back. God damn it, she wanted to impress Reka.
"How did you know?" She asked, her voice small.
"You snore, lass. I don't sleep until I hear it."
"God damn it."
"It was a good effort." Reka said, smiling. "You know what? Since you tried so hard, you can sleep on the bed tonight."
She patted the edge of the bed, and Saoirse reluctantly climbed up and curled into a ball at her feet as Reka extinguished the lantern.
It was so fucking comfortable.
"Good dog."
