Rosie Wilson

Rosie takes a few days to get everything settled in her mind before she even considers bringing it up to Sabrina. All the things she wants, and the things she doesn't; what she has to have back out of the things she's given up, and everything that she's thrown aside for the better over the last year. She doesn't know if it's enough, will be enough, but she wants to try.

Nick, she thinks, might have wanted her to try. More than that, she loves Sabrina and Charlie too deeply to turn away from this. Whatever it becomes.

She and Sabrina agree to meet in the window of time between when Sabrina's finished at Leviathan and before Rosie has to go down to the restaurant in the evening. After a day or two of storms, the weather's cleared, the humidity all but gone with the rain; after getting them both drinks from a nearby cafe, it's easy for Rosie to find a mostly-dry spot of grass in the park where they can talk and enjoy the sun. That it also makes it easier for either of them to leave isn't worth thinking about, and she does her best not to.

She texts Sabrina her location, then settles down to wait, fingers fidgeting with the straw in her drink.

Somehow, she manages to stop the bleeding, that strip of sailcloth turning into as close to a lifeline as it's possible for a thing to be. A group of them get Jamie to the ship, to something approximating safety; the pirates have seen this kind of injury before, and know more than the rest of them what to do. It's so easy to let them take control of the situation, to salvage from it what they can.

Clothes splashed with blood, Rosie wanders belowdeck, passing hammocks and coils of rope until she finds a hidden nook in the ribs of the ship. It's narrow and shadowed, barely large enough for her to fit inside, but she climbs in and sits, folding her arms around her bent knees to make herself just that much smaller. She stays there, numb and silent and waiting for whatever happens next. Her eyes close, just for a minute.

When they open again, it's to the sight of a stark white ceiling and a fluorescent light so bright it almost shocks her. There's a slow, steady beeping coming from somewhere nearby, the strange sensation of tape against the back of one of her hands keeping something in place. She lies there in confusion for another moment more, then tries to sit up, the motion slow and full of so much effort she shakes with it.

"What..." she starts, looking to one side of the bed--the hospital bed, she's at a hospital now, somehow--and then the other. "What happened to the ship?"

A pack of them come by her cage in the corner of the throne room once her captor--their master--has lumbered off in search of other pleasures. Mistress-to-be needs cheering, their leader says, unlocking the door and hauling her out into the rough grasp of two others. Can't send you in like that, though, filthy little bird. She's tried fighting before, gained the bruises and the scratches to prove it; now, she simply lets them drag her off, shaking a little in fear and barely-suppressed misery, hating them for everything they've done to her and Charlie and all the rest of the people she's seen and heard suffer.

Hating herself, too, for being so stupid and giving in so quickly now.

First, they take her to a vacant room somewhere in the labyrinth of the castle, cold stone walls and a hard tile floor. She's stripped and scrubbed, doused in frigid water and manhandled with an unseemly relish, the goblins erupting in a symphony of cackles and hoots every time something they do results in a whimper or shriek. Once clean, they throw a dress at her, clingy and lurid red, the sleeves long enough and back high enough to cover the worst of her bruises. New feathers, birdie, one of them purrs, watching her shiver as she pulls the dress on. Prettier plumage, to make the mistress smile.

Two goblins had brought the cage--her cage, she's ashamed to think of it as now--down to the corridor; they push her back in and lock her up, then carry her through another set of twisting passageways to a warmer part of the castle, stopping in front of a carved wooden door that opens to the lead goblin's knock. Rosie only sees the barest glimpse of the woman inside, dark dress and moonstone-pale hair and a severe expression, but she recognizes her instantly.

"Sabrina!"