by 
The slap of papers brought Cassius out of his absence. “Runner brought you this , cap’n.” Ralof’s gravelly statement punctuated the ‘gift’s’ arrival and his bad mood. “More revisions of regulations for operating, and Noble whosoever complaints about the men.” The Captain sniffed and pushed himself up in his chair. Straightening them, a glance at the top parchment caused him to snicker.
“The poor sod has rather a girlish penmanship, doesn't he…?" The younger man mused.
"Eh?" Ralof made a disgusted face, but then again he always had that look on his face.
He shook his head, "Something about one of the men having the gall to look at someone's wife, there's too much pleasantry bull-"
"Ca-captain?" He looked up at the tiny voice. Katrina stood with her head bowed and her hands behind her back. The poor girl's hair was a mess, but her blue eyes shone past the tangled black locks. If he looked hard enough, he could almost imagine a bright green. A whimper pulled him from his thoughts and he realized he was just staring at the four-year-old.
He let his cheeks draw up a smile towards the girl. "Aye... Come in, Katrina. It's alright." He kept his voice soft, welcoming so that he wouldn’t frighten her. Even so, her eyes were locked on his first mate - though he was large enough that it seemed the case most of the time with anyone. Very slowly, she let the door handle go and walked in a few paces. Reluctant and cautious steps.
He could just barely see Ralof sneer at her. "Hurry it up, lass!” He growled, “He ain't got all day!" She squealed in fear and dove to the side, backing up behind the door to hide from him. "What's wrong with you?!" It was like thunder had entered his cabin as he stomped towards her and raised his hand.
“Ralof!” He lept out of his chair, “Enough!” The man stopped short, and in the moment of hesitation, she ran to Cassius and hid under his desk. His eyes flicked down, then back up to bore holes in his first-mate. “She’s just a little girl!”
He grumbled again and left with a slam of the door. The patience for such a man dwindled with everyday Ralof lost his temper. He sighed, listening to the tiny sobs. The room was far too quiet to be filled with such a heartbreaking sound. He bent down to look under the edge of the desk. Her hands flew up to cover her head, as if ready for another attack. "Katrina…” He barely spoke, hoping not to make her scare her more, “Are you alright?"
"Is he gone?"
He struggled to hear the words, but he nodded in response. “Yes… He is gone.” A pause. Then, very gradually, she crawled out. He went to place a hand on her shoulder as she stood, but she flinched away.
“I-I’m sorry, captain… I di-didn’t mean it!!” Her voice wavered, heavy with emotion. “I didn’t mean to make him angry, I promise…” He could see her trembling as she took a few steps away from him. What had she been through that would make her so afraid…? His heart broke at the thought of such a tender hearted girl being harmed.
He slipped out of his chair and kneeled in front of her. “It’s alright, Katrina…. You didn’t do anything.” He gently placed a hand on her head, brushing the tangled knots. Once more, she flinched but now she didn’t pull away. “He was already in a horrid mood.” She was so innocent. She didn’t need to know the truth about his anger, just that she wasn’t the cause.
She nodded and wiped the soaked skin under her eyes. "I finished,” A sniffle only partially obstructed her speech, “Scrubbing the pots, just like you told me to, captain. I even did the mugs, too." Her eyes stayed down, away from his.
But He smiled. “Did you?” His heart eased when she nodded again. "I think that deserves a reward, don't you agree?" She didn’t move as if she was afraid to answer either way. He looked around and spotted a stool in the corner. He pointed to it as he stood, "Bring that here, please."
Without a thought, she trotted over. Every attempt to raise the short chair up off the ground ended in failure until somehow she figured out that if she balanced it just right, she could waddle over with it on her knees. Watching the gears turn in her head fascinated him to no end. “Good.”
He pulled out a key and opened a drawer, filled with bobbles from a past life. Some of his wife and daughters things. In the back of his drawer was a little box, painted gold. He grabbed a brush and roughly closed the drawer before he could linger on it. “Sit down, lass. We’re going to fix this hair.” He motioned to the stool and pulled his own chair to sit.bA tiny frown found his way onto his face as she stayed standing. "What's wrong?"
She looked at her feet and her hands found each other behind her back. "The ladies in town pull hard when they do it... but you won't, will you, captain?" He thought of the women in the taverns, knowing many things to describe them; not a one being gentle or caring.
“I promise.” Her steps were careful and her eyes never left his hand. Eventually, she sat and faced away, placing her hands on her lap. He barely touched her hair and she jerked right out of her seat. "It's alright Katrina, I ain't gonna hurt you." She nodded again, betraying her tears with a sniff. The flinch was much more slight as he started brushing her hair. "See? Everything's fine." The crash of waves on the boat was soothing.
He picked up a lock of hair to brush, but it stuck to the rest of the mop by tangles, "What happened to your hair?"
"The wind, sir. It was too stuffy in the kitchen so I went outside, but it mussed my hair."
He smiled softly and sighed, "Ah, the dastardly winds pulling at such pretty hair. The Gods must be jealous." He pulled gently at the tangles, careful when he caught a rough spot. She was so quiet; even when he snagged her hair, she didn’t make a sound. Still, he tried to be as easy on her as possible.
"Cassius?"
He smiled. "Aye?"
"Why is the wind jealous?"
A weak breath carried a soft laugh as he kept working on her hair. More and more of it was curling into place, ending just above her shoulders. "Because you're very beautiful. No one can see the wind, so it pulls at pretty girl's hair to make them less beautiful."
Again, she was quiet for a time. "The wind must be lonely."
"Nah. The wind has the seas to keep him company."
She quietly breathed and ‘Oh’.
He let the last curl fall in her face, "There." He sat up and placed the brush on his desk. He motioned to the far corner,"There's a mirror over there." She turned and looked, the room small enough that it was all the had to do to see herself.
He almost thought his eyes were playing tricks on him when she smiled softly at her reflection. "Look at how pretty I am!" It had been a fortnight since she snuck onto the boat and she still hadn't smiled.
He grinned, "Aye."
"I think the wind should be jealous!” ‘There she is’ He thought as his heart leapt up at the sight of her joy. “Look at my pretty hair, Cassius!"
"I'm lookin', Lass." A laugh bubbled up. Her happiness was contagious, so it seemed.
She bounced from her stool to hug him tightly, a great surprise to him. "Thank you, Cassius! You're so nice to me."
It took him a moment to collect his thoughts, but he bent down and hugged her tightly. He pulled back, almost expecting to see green where blue eyes met his. "Keep that brush around, I can hear the wind's jealousy even now."
She held the brush in her hand, staring at the old wooden memory. A quick glance around the room reminded her she was in the same room, only the most important part was missing. Cassius.
Held in her hand was just that, though. A memory. Back into the drawer it went, along with the abandoned, painted box...
