» Connor & Evie 1.0 «

[stayyourblade]

To say that Mr. Faulkner had been unreasonably unhappy about Connor bringing a woman aboard was an understatement. Unhappy didn't even begin to describe the old man's reaction when it had first been suggested. It was bad luck, wishing doom upon them, asking for trouble and all manner of other ill tidings which they didn't need. They could find them very well all on their own thank you very much. Fellow assassin or not, inviting Evie to come along on their journey to Oak Island in search of Captain Kidd's fabled treasure was too much.

Connor had listened, ever patient with his crew, before waving off each and every concern as nothing more than silly superstition. After all, there had been women on board before and nothing so terrible had ever happened. His own grandfather had even been lucky enough to have the services of a female quartermaster once upon a time. It would be fine.

Somehow, he hadn't pictured the trip going quite like this.

Almost from the moment they had maneuvered out of the bay where the Aquila remained docked during his stays at the homestead, the problems had begun. The wind was still and the water was slow moving, leaving them crawling along at barely a snail's pace. Then, despite the calm peacefulness of the ocean, Evie had suddenly developed what appeared to be some unexpected case of seasickness, retiring early on the second day to the captains quarters.

Paired with the fact that what should have been a relatively easy and quick journey had suddenly turned into a slow-moving slog, and everyone was in a rather foul mood. Connor had yelled himself horse giving various orders, trying to lift the spirits of his crew through the use of shanties and finally, alcohol.

He would have believed that perhaps Mr. Faulkner had been correct and having a woman on board really was bad luck, if he wasn't so worried about this particular one. Every time he saw her, she looked a little more green, and they were too far into the journey to turn around.

Thankfully, he had taken to keeping a small supply of peppermint tea for those times when the water was particularly rough and those who were still green had a difficult time handling it. Leaving the wheel in Mr. Faulkner's capable hands, knowing full well that he would be found and called back should he be needed, he had headed into the galley, preparing a steaming cup of the strong tea. Carrying it onto the deck, he descended the stairs, knocking once at the door leading to his quarters before entering quietly, not wanting to disturb her if she should be resting.

"I made some peppermint tea. It should help to ease your stomach."