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just-zander · 1 year ago

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in which I tried writing how I imagine my fic ends, and ended up having a lot of feelings

basic explanation for this post: I'm in the process of writing the conclusion of my whole overarching storyline for my fics, and decided to try crafting how I imagine certain things wrapping up. I don't even know if this will stay "canon" but I'm posting it because I ended up really loving it. I'm hoping the gist of events leading up to these paragraphs is clear enough.

A long moment of silence passed between them. The only sounds were the whispering of wind as it passed through the gazebo and the distant, almost mournful crooning of a canyon burrower. The sunset was fading now, its fiery colors succumbing to the shadow of twilight. Such a brilliant conflagration, inevitably fated to give way to the coming night and the inexorable march of time…

Silver felt a pang of something melancholy ripple through him as he watched those bands of orange, purple, pink and gold dissipate, their vibrant glory replaced by darkness and the sleepy twinkling of stars.

“Do you feel trapped?”

Sarah’s question shook him out of his rumination. He turned to give her a quizzical look, and she averted her eyes as she fiddled with the blue fabric of her skirt.

“Sorry, I could have phrased that more delicately. I just… I want to know if there’s anything I can do to help you feel better if this situation has you feeling boxed in. I can’t imagine it’s easy, facing down being stuck in one place when you’re so used to going wherever you please.”

“Well. T’aint as if it’s the first time,” Silver answered. Even he could hear a weariness in his voice he wasn’t used to, as if some invisible hand had stolen away a portion of his usual thunder and left him quieter. But it didn’t surprise him. The memory of Ironbeard’s razor-sharp talons piercing through his ribs was still uncomfortably fresh, and though he didn’t remember much of what came after he knew his brush with death had been a matter of hairs’ breadths rather than inches. “Been gettin’ along just fine with one arm an’ one leg for years now. S’pose bein’ down a lung’s just another leg on the journey, eheh?”

“I know what you’re trying to do,” Sarah sighed. “Making me laugh won’t cancel out how much I worry about you, you know. And I want to know how you feel. You don’t have to go hiding behind jokes and upbeat quips. You don’t have to get into it if you don’t want to either… but if you’re anything like my son, you’re trying to protect me from uncomfortable truths. And I think we both know I don’t need any more protecting at this point.”

“I’d sooner worry about yerself,” Silver pointed out with a wry little smile. “Taken by force an’ carted off half way ‘cross the galaxy, then stuck with a band o’ rogues just t’ get home. An’ chased most of the way there by a right fiend o’ a pirate! Y’don’t just brush a thing like that off.”

“Yes, well, I’m not the one on strict orders to lay low and avoid unnecessary exertion for the foreseeable future, now am I?” She elbowed him gently. “You’re right, though. It’s not been easy settling back in. But I guess we’re in this together now, so it can’t be all bad.”

Together. Silver couldn’t help feeling strangely warm inside on hearing that. He made a show of studying the wiring on the back of his new hand and flexing the mechanical fingers, though it wasn’t all acting; he was genuinely impressed with the quality of his replacement prosthetic. It was a make and model he wouldn’t have been able to afford in his former life, but Jim hadn’t let him get away with making do in the aftermath of losing his old piece. Sure, it lacked all the bits and bobs he’d managed to install on the old hunk of hardware… but perhaps it was fitting to at least part with the weaponry. It had been heavy, a strain on his back and shoulders. And now he no longer needed to carry such a weight.

Out with the old, in with the new, right?

“Y’made a fine shipmate,” he told her, closing his hand into a fist before giving her wink. “Hardly anyone comes t’ mind I’d rather weather a squall alongside. An’ I’ll swear t’ that!”

A noticeable hue of pink bloomed in Sarah’s cheeks, nearly reaching the bags beneath her eyes. Said eyes shone as the skin around their outer edges crinkled with her smile, and as she laughed he could tell his sincerity had reached its mark.

The events of the past months felt like some sort of impossible dream. But here he was in the waking world, sitting on a bench in a garden his gifted treasure had helped create, beside someone who had gone from simply being a figure he only knew through relation to Jim to being an equally dear friend. Images passed in fleeting increments through his mind’s eye, from their tense initial meeting to their shaky alliance as she demanded he teach her how to work a sailing vessel. Then the many hours whiled away in the galley watching her ply her craft, admiring both her skill as a cook and her determination to contribute to the crew. Then… those fragile moments of vulnerability. His heartfelt apologies for all his sins, her despair over feeling powerless.

She’d told him he could be more than his worst moments to her. He’d told her she didn’t have to be more than herself to matter to him or to anyone else. That she wasn’t a burden. That strength didn’t always equal martial might, strategic savvy or one's ability to wield a weapon.

And now here they were, two battered and exhausted souls come home to roost.

Home? Was this place home now? Somehow the thought felt iniquitous. Undeserved.

“You made a fine shipmate too,” Sarah admitted, tilting her head a little. “And I think you’ll make a fine cook for the Benbow, once you’re recovered. If you end up wanting to stick around, that is.”

“Is that a job proposition I hear?” Silver queried, genuinely surprised.

“Do I really need to repeat myself?” Sarah fixed him with an oddly pointed stare. “Admiral Blake said it himself, you’ll need something steady to keep you out of trouble while you adjust to civilian life. And since you’re already here convalescing, it’s just the most logical thing I can think of. That is, unless you already have your sights set on greener pastures.”

“Hadn’t really given it much thought, t’be honest,” Silver confessed. He suddenly found it difficult to meet her eyes and settled on studying the buckle of his own shoe instead. “Not that I ain’t grateful for, well, all o’ this, it’s just… ah, blast it all.” He leaned forward and winced as the still-healing scars in his side pulled a bit. “I got quite a storied history, see, an’ most of it ain’t the sort o’ tales y’tell in polite company. A lot o’ things t’be ashamed of. A lot o’ reasons for a whole slew o’ folks out there t’ hate this old cyborg, an’ a lot o’ reasons me lingerin’ too long in one place might bring unwanted shenanigans.”

He risked a furtive glance at her and saw she was listening attentively, a concerned little frown pulling at the corners of her lips.

“That is, it just don’t sit well with me, puttin’ you an’ Jimbo an’ all yer friends in any sort o’ delicate position,” he hurriedly added. “An’ there’s the Cap’n and the doc t’ consider, an’ all their little ‘uns, all that bad blood betwixt the old crew an’ meself… I know they’re dear t’ ya, and you t’ them. It’s the same thing I told that boy o’ yers, last we spoke. Last thing I want at this point is t’ be the source o’ any more problems for this family.”

A part of him hated everything he was saying and wanted nothing more than to wheedle and woo his way into securing a position here, potential dangers and tension be damned. But he’d been learning to keep that part in check ever since he chose to give up his life’s dream so he could do right by Jim Hawkins. The gold-obsessed dragon and its selfish clamoring for more, more, more was now reduced to a little squawking wisp of a beast, barely large enough to do more than scrabble at the walls of his heart. And instead of fighting it off in disgust, he held it and soothed it with the assurance that this was the right thing.

“Do you want to stay?”

Her question set his mental train of thought to screeching to a halt on its tracks. Something told him this was what she’d been getting at when she opened up this line of discussion in the first place, and that whatever he chose to say in response, it needed to be as truthful as he could manage.

I think we both know I don’t need any more protecting at this point, her words echoed from earlier.

For a moment he nearly said what he thought she needed to hear. Some well-meaning line about how it would be best for him to move on after recovering, for everyone’s sakes. But then the wisp of a dragon nipped at him, reminding him of the exact thing he’d tried so hard to convey to her about selfishness during their time on the ship. About how she deserved to choose for herself, not merely bowing to what everyone needed her to be.

And so John Silver faced Sarah Hawkins without – for once – a shred of conjured bravado or deflecting charm between himself and another person, allowing himself to be the very thing he’d avoided for so many long and difficult years: honest.

“Aye,” he managed, his voice thick with feeling.

“Then that settles it,” Sarah declared with finality. “What was it you told me? Ah, yes. ‘Not every selfish whim is a thing of evil.’” She even feigned his accent, which coaxed a genuine chuckle out of him. “Be honest with me, because I’m being honest with you when I say this is something I want too.”

Silver paused for a moment as he struggled to come up with a response, his left eye misty and his throat tight as he flailed for any answer that wasn’t merely some kind of emotional babble. But then Sarah just scooted over and allowed herself to lean against his left arm, her eyes closing as she settled in. For a split second he was frozen in place, but then his body moved before his brain could catch up; he lifted his arm and she sank into his side, her smile widening. Carefully, as if fearful he might accidentally break her, he let his heavy arm settle around her.

He had a million questions to ask, but he knew they were better left for tomorrow or any of the following days to come. Days which now seemed much brighter looking ahead.

Once the thought of being stuck on a single planet had petrified him. But now, as he allowed himself to relax and peer up at Montressor’s star-studded nighttime canopy, he knew something in the winds had shifted. He could learn to love waking up and going to sleep beneath this sky. If anything, perhaps he already did.

#don't mind me just crying over here

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just-zander · 1 year ago

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Of Ships, Unmoored

The Benbow's hosting a wedding reception and for the inn's owner, the event brings up some less than pleasant associations. Post BaP probably (Silver's alive and pardoned, at the very least), just me putting some thoughts to prose that wouldn't leave me alone lol. Also yes, it's that Ethan from the deleted scene, now older and working there as a busser!

Hints of Silver/Sarah if you're so inclined but written to work just as well outside of that context, because they're amazing as friends to me too.

The sounds of music, dancing and chattering voices intermingled as the reception carried on. With BEN, Ethan and the newlyweds’ family members also helping with dishing out food and cleaning up any unforeseen messes, Silver was free to loiter as he pleased — and it pleased him to hover near the unmanned bar, where nobody seemed interested in bothering him with anything that wasn’t his business. He wasn’t exactly worn out, but all the preparation for this veritable feast had left him more than a bit depleted.

It wasn’t liquor or champagne he was after, but coffee, and thankfully there was already some brewed and waiting. As he helped himself to a hefty mug he caught movement out of the corner of his flesh and blood eye, a familiar flash of purple fabric. The grin which spread across his face wasn’t even slightly forced as he glanced over at his employer, gesturing toward the coffee pot as he did so.

“Fancy a bit o’ refuelin’?” he inquired.

“I really shouldn’t, I’m jittery enough as it is with all this going on. Thanks for the offer, though.” Sarah gave him a half-apologetic smile in return. “The first wedding reception we’ve ever hosted here and nothing’s gone horribly wrong yet. Color me surprised.”

“Day’s still young,” Silver mused, his tone wry as he watched BEN nearly trip over his own metal feet while carrying a platter laden with champagne glasses through the crowd of guests.

“Oh, don’t you dare,” Sarah sighed in mock exasperation. She pulled off one of her gloves and flicked it at him in good-humored rebuke, then eased herself into one of the bar stools. “Everyone’s having a great time as far as I can tell. Oh, and I’ve received so much praise for the food. All compliments to the chef, of course.”

“Well, ain’t exactly as if I were back there pullin’ it off all on me lonesome,” Silver replied serenely. He downed another gulp of his bitter beverage and gestured at her with the mug. “Gotta give your own self credit where it’s due.”

“Yes, but I haven’t been back there for hours cleaning up the aftermath of all that prep,” Sarah shot back. She shook her head. “Honestly. I kept trying to shoo Ethan back to the kitchen to help you with the dishes at the very least, but he got distracted. I hope it wasn’t too much of a bother.”

“T’was nothin’ o’ the sort!” He leaned on the bar, its surface cool and smooth against his left elbow, and gave a little shrug. “Besides… best to let the young out an’ about, eh? Leave the cleanup to an old cyborg who’s already seen his share o’ the sights.”

Speaking of Ethan, the boy was talking animatedly with the flower girl, and even from this distance Silver could pick up the blush of color in his cheeks. The sight of it elicited a knowing chuckle from the cyborg, and when Sarah followed his gaze she also let out a small laugh.

“I remember when I was that age. Kids can be such romantics.” Sarah’s tone was jovial, but as she looked around at the celebration Silver caught a hint of something melancholy in her expression. Not that his attention was particularly trained on her face, fair as it might be, but old habits were slow to perish and he had a habit of reading people’s faces to glean information one couldn’t discern from words alone – or so he told himself as he finished off his coffee and set the mug aside.

Without really bothering to think it through overmuch, he ambled behind the bar and gave the supplies there a once-over before glancing back over at Sarah, who was still eyeing the crowd wistfully. She wasn’t the type to drink any alcohol while shouldering her responsibilities, but booze was hardly the limit of refreshments here. And so he set about juicing a couple of purps, and when he pushed a small glass of the stuff toward Sarah it was enough to shake her out of her funk.

“Oh! You didn’t have to, really, I mean…” She turned on the barstool so she was now facing away from the reception, reaching for the juice as she did so. “Thank you. I won’t lie, I think I really need the sugar right about now.”

“Ain’t one much for weddings meself,” Silver admitted. “Too much ceremony, too many people. Can’t says I care for the smell o’ all them flowers either.”

“You sound like Jim,” Sarah teased. “When we went to Delbert and Amelia’s ceremony, he just couldn’t stop sneezing. He was so embarrassed! I felt so bad for him, but he endured it without a fuss. His father on the other hand, well, that man couldn’t wait to get away from his own wedding and he wasn’t even sniffling.” She took a sip of her drink and regarded the glass pensively as she swirled it a little. “Unsurprising, in hindsight.”

Ah. Mentions of her long-absent spouse were few and far between, but it didn’t surprise Silver one bit she’d be dwelling on the subject on a day like this. Usually he was adroit when it came to churning out upbeat responses to uncomfortable topics, but today his engine didn’t seem to be firing on all cylinders; worst of all, Sarah noticed the pause and took on an embarrassed sort of look, offering him a sheepish attempt at a smile.

“Sorry,” she managed. “It’s just… I guess I’m with you when it comes to, well, not being much for weddings.”

“No need for apologies.” Silver leaned forward with his arms folded atop the bar. “Heard enough about the matter from Jimbo to understand it ain’t an easy thing to bear.”

“I told myself before any of this got under way I wouldn’t go thinking about my marriage, and now look at me.” Sarah drained the rest of her juice with all the vigor of an old salt taking a shot of whiskey, then eyed him with curiosity. “What about you? I don’t think I’ve asked if you ever married. That is, if it’s not too forward a question.”

“Wouldn’t call it too forward or backward or any direction, really,” Silver answered with a wink. “I’m a ship unmoored, so to speak, have been all me life. Makes things simpler. No vows or pledges or any o’ that sort o’ thing… if ever I had a lifelong love, her name would be freedom.”

Even as the words left his mouth he found himself wondering how true they rang. Sure, he had been quite the drifter at one point, fiercely committed to his own independence and viewing anything that might tie him down as a threat to be avoided at all costs, but after all the myriad changes of the last few years he couldn’t quite relate to his former mindset anymore. Working here was initially supposed to be a mere transition, a few months of adjusting to civilian life before heading back out into the wider universe to keep on gallivanting around… but here he remained over a year later, still attached to his role as the Benbow Inn’s resident cook. Still tied down.

“I can’t blame you there,” Sarah remarked. “I get asked now and again if I’m considering remarriage, even had a couple bachelors ask around trying to sniff out if I’m available. But it just doesn’t seem worth the hassle anymore! I like the sound of being ‘a ship unmoored,’ honestly. I was such a young bride, and then I threw everything I had into being a mother and running a restaurant… why worry about marrying again when I finally have the chance to figure myself out?”

“Here, here.” Silver held up a purp as if raising a toast, then took a hearty bite out of it.

The music changed from slow and refined to quick and festive as the bride, the groom, and their guests all moved to start dancing in the spacious center of the room. The merry reel was enough to set his foot to tapping in time with the tune and it seemed to perk Sarah up as well, for she sat up a little straighter and drew in a deep breath before letting it out in a contented sigh.

“Well, I’m feeling better than I was when I sat down.” She turned to look at the dancers, then back at the cook. “Thanks again. For the juice, and for the listening. Sometimes things just… boil over and spill out.”

“Always handy an’ happy to help with any spills,” Silver told her. He placed his mechanical palm over his heart. “On me honor. Ain’t a mess in this galaxy you’ll find me afraid to throw myself towards.”

Sarah stood with a little stretch for good measure, taking a moment to smooth her skirt and make sure her hair was in place before relaxing. “I’ll be sure to remember that next time BEN drops a pot of chowder,” she said with a sly smirk. Then she glanced over at the dance floor, bit her lip, and finally drew herself up as if rallying her courage. “By the way,” she spoke up, “I seem to find myself in need of a dance partner… if you’re not too worn out from toiling away in the kitchen, that is.”

Her tone was nonchalant but her eyes were hopeful. That hope was enough to banish the weariness from his bones, and in an instant he felt flooded with a youthful vigor he’d almost forgotten. It would be easy to go scurrying back to the kitchen, back to the dish pit and the stacks of trays still in need of scrubbing, but then Sarah Hawkins would be disappointed and he simply couldn’t abide such an outcome.

As unlikely as their friendship had seemed once, it was now one of the dearest sources of joy in his life. Anything to add to that joy, to nurture it, well… he’d be a fool to turn it down.

“Why, I daresay I’m fit as a fiddle an’ up to the task.” He made a show of giving a little bow, flourishing as though he were performing on some grand stage. And he was, in a way; his audience of one mattered more than a packed-out theater by his reckoning. When he held out his left hand she took it without hesitation, and as his thick, rough fingers closed around her smaller and smoother digits he felt a delightful warmth flood through him. Then she was tugging him toward the party, laughing as she went, and then they were joining in like a couple of giddy children as cheers and laughter erupted around the both of them.

This, too, was freedom – the freedom to dance with one of his best friends in the whole world beneath the roof gifted treasure had helped to build, to open his roaring furnace of a heart and share all the zest for life burning there with others. The freedom to indulge in connection instead of shying away out of fear. It was a privilege he'd never take for granted again.

Maybe he didn't mind weddings so much, after all.

#stop it it's too cute #i smiled through the whole piece #beautifully done #treasure planet #john silver #sarah hawkins

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