Day 6 - February 24: Devoted (Iranji)
Word Count: 1000
Summary: I love how it took Iranji almost a full year to articulate why he's helping these two.
Iranji’s feet hit the deck with a thud, and he grunted as he felt the ship rocking beneath them. Port and Starboard appeared on either side of him with loud squawks, and then immediately flew up into the rigging to roost for the night. He nodded in thanks to Silas and then looked up at the sky to orient himself, checking to see which constellations were in view to get an idea of where the Prize was on the water. His shoulders relaxed when he saw a familiar skyscape, and he took a deep breath before heading to his quarters.
Nothing else he’d found in the world during his lifetime felt quite like coming back to his ship. A few things had come close, over the years, but the Glittering Prize remained the most consistent source of calm in his current life.
That didn’t make her the only source. When he got to what had been his door, up until about a year ago, he knocked firmly, to see if the other one was still awake.
After a few seconds, the door opened, and a blonde human woman looked up at him, smiling happily. “Iranji,” she said, voice soft.
“Hey. It too late?” he asked in common.
Tabitha shook her head and opened the door fully. “He’s not asleep yet. Come in, please.”
He ducked the doorframe and stepped into the small room, which in recent months had been completely overtaken with children’s things. His attention went first to the crib bolted against the wall, where he could hear soft noises that indicated the half-eleven infant inside was, indeed, still awake.
He hung his rifle on its rack and then began unbolting his pauldron. “It okay if I hold him?”
Tabitha raised an eyebrow at him. “You don’t want to get cleaned up first?”
He shook his head. “Nah. Will once he’s down.”
“Go ahead. But at least come sit and let me do your hair.” She sat down on the bed, crossing her legs, and gestured for him to sit down on the floor in front of her.
He took a moment to scoop Ira out of his crib, then smirked over at her. “That bad?”
“Look, I didn’t learn how to take care of your hair only to not do it,” she said with a soft laugh. “Come on. I know it relaxes you.”
He silently moved her way, taking care to hold her son close as he settled onto the floor as requested. The boy fussed, and Iranji immediately started murmuring to him in Zandali, rocking him gently until he settled again.
Meanwhile, Tabitha began running her fingers through his hair, occasionally pausing and retwisting parts that needed it. He closed his eyes and let himself relax as he felt her fingers work.
“I know you were iffy on growing it out, but I think the white streak is going to look really striking when it’s longer.”
“Thanks,” he said. He wanted to turn his head to smile at her, but knew from experience that she’d scold him for moving.
“It’s late now, but I can help you wash it tomorrow,” she said after a moment. “It’s a little dry, too, but I know you have oil. Priority on the wash, though. There’s… I’m pretty sure this is blood.”
“Probably,” he replied. “Not mine,” he decided to add for clarity before returning to humming to her son.
“Thank the Light for that,” she said. “More work with your goblin friends?”
Iranji chuckled and nodded. “That easy to tell?”
“Salvage doesn’t usually send you home covered in other people’s blood, so yes.”
They fell into a comfortable silence, he humming and rocking Ira to sleep while she sorted out his hair. The boy was a blissfully heavy sleeper once he actually went down, which Iranji always personally attributed to the way his ship rocked on the water. He always slept best here, so it made sense to him that everyone else would, as well.
Still, he hummed, just to help speed things along a little. Old habits died hard, after all, which is why he didn’t go quiet when the boy slipped off to sleep. Tabitha liked his voice, anyway.
A few minutes later, her hands fell to his shoulders. He turned his head, odd eye focusing on her in a silent question.
“So,” she said, voice soft. “Do you think that tonight I can finally get you to tell me about your family?”
He looked down at Ira, and didn’t respond for an uncomfortably long time.
“I’m sorry–” she began, pulling back from him.
He cut her off, though he kept his voice quiet. “Nah. I’ll tell you. Been ten years. It’s okay.”
If she were someone he was sleeping with, he never would have agreed to say anything. He didn’t like sounding either old or responsible to a bedmate, but the two of them had had a unique dynamic since the day they’d met. She was living in his quarters, and he was helping her take care of her son, so it was probably time for her to know just why he was so good with infants. It was going to take words, which were difficult for him, but at the same time… he would do anything for Ira. And she needed to know why.
He told her about meeting Elaina when he was twenty, and about their twin daughters, who had come along a few years later. The words came haltingly, but he found them.
She was crying by the end of the night, but that’s what happened when you talked about living through where the Cataclysm hit hardest. He caught her looking his scar over more than once, clearly drawing conclusions about just what had caused it, but she didn’t ask outright. He appreciated that, because he wasn’t sure he had enough words in him to cover that story, too. If her son hadn’t been sleeping peacefully in his arms for the entire conversation, he might not have even been able to finish talking about his girls.
He expected nightmares once they went to bed, but as happened so often these days, all he dreamed of was the open ocean.
