[maikafanawen]

The small washroom had but one window that Meri Loliway could look out while she worked. It faced the street and people would stroll past on their way to work at the docks. She was washing the set of plates from breakfast contentedly when a voice low and grumbling drifted into the kitchen from the library "Rum in the chest costs a mountain of gold, going fairly well for three days old, yo ho, yo ho... Damn-it all Meri where's my drink!" Avershire, handsome and formidable, swaggered into the room, his shoulders leaning at an angle as he supported himself up on his gold-headed captain's cane. The woman bent over the washtub turned quickly, a lock of long, curly black hair falling into the water and sticking to her face when she tried to shake it out.

"Curses Avershire! You are not supposed to be out of bed!" She dropped her dishrag and pulled out a chair for the captain to sit in at the table and face the sea through the large window. "Four days you've been up with a worm and now you're thinking that a walk is right for your unsteady legs!"

"My landlubber legs you mean!" he spat and Meri kicked the leg of his chair.

"As long as I'm washing these forsaken floors I'm the only one that'll be spitting on them!" She strode over to the cabinet then and retrieved a glass and a bottle of lighter whisky.

"No!" the under par man said, rubbing at his temple, "I want the gold stuff." Meri narrowed her eyes at him but switched the bottles: she new better than to contradict her captain. Decanting a helping into the glass, she gave it to Avershire who drank it slowly, only consuming half of it in his first sip. Meri sighed before resuming her work.

"Squalls in the night with a thundering crash, Fire and foam-- MERI!" The lady dove out of the way, just missing being hit by the body that had sailed headfirst through the window behind her the pane shattering and glass going everywhere. It landed in the tub and after just a few seconds, the water inside started turning red from the man's blood. The woman leapt to her feet and grabbed the sword hanging from beside the door. Then kicking it open, she challenged the man running from the scene, pushing people aside on the crowded streets to get by.

"Come back you son of a bilge rat and get this man! He does not belong to me! He's your bloody garbage!" Swearing violently under her breath, she watched as his back disappeared into an alley.

"Like me to get 'im for ye ma'am?" a swarthy looking sailor asked coming up at a brisk walk towards Meri. She considered it for a moment but decided against it.

"S'not important," she declared, "but I could use help with the garbage if you've a mind for it."

"I certainly do," he offered politely following Avershire's woman into the house. With the sailor's help, they carried the body out the gutter and waited for the cart to come and get him while Meri mopped up the mess, hoping it wouldn't leave a stain. She thanked the man for his help and sent him off with a glass of spirits. Making friends was always a good thing to do nowadays anyways and he seemed smart and strong: two very good assets.

"Gutted through by morning…" Avershire sang darkly when Meri had closed the door. She shook her head and bolted the latch.

It was raining and dark when Avershire got home from The Beast's Lair. Meri was up, reading in the library, when he came in. She set down her book and walked to help the man off with his coat and walk him towards the fire she'd started in the hearth by where she was sitting. He discarded his wet shirt too and thankfully took the blanket she brought him, wrapping it around himself as he stared absently into the flames. Once his clothes were hung up in the washroom to dry, Meri returned and sat beside him on the settee. He was always so melancholic when he returned from the inn, and the woman found that the best thing to do was just keep him company.

After a minute or two he told her about the new restriction laws for those of corsair ancestry. It clicked right away in Meri's shrewd mind and she looked nervously at Avershire. He nodded at her unspoken question.

"They're all being given badges to wear. The scribes are hard at it. Tomorrow I've--" he paused and took a minute to drape his arm around her, "I've got to get mine. Roary said I won't be allowed to buy drinks without it at his inn." Meri shook her head in disagreement.

"Your pledge to Gondor doesn't free you of it? I'll wager Doran doesn't have to wear one." Avershire's eyes focused in consideration.

"I bet you're right," he said. Meri smiled and tapped his shoulder absently with her finger. "I bet I am too. We can go see him tomorrow and ask him of it." Kent nodded and yawned. Miss Loliway smiled again and kissed him lightly on his cheek. "You are sleepy now though, the rain and the fire have exhausted you." The corners of Avershire's mouth twitched as a form of smiling: the best he could muster since his captaining days came to an end. Taking from him his empty mug of hot tea and setting it on the end table nearby, Meri helped him stand.

Gripping his cane, he sauntered to the large bedroom where he and Meri slept. It was a large, comfortable feather stuffed bed draped with crimson curtains and covered in soft pillows. Avershire refused assistance to dress. So after ten minutes, he emerged from behind the changing wall, looking even more exhausted. He collapsed in the bed, making the frame and canopy shudder with his fall. His dark-haired woman smiled sadly, and doused the candle before climbing in beside him.

Meri's dreams that night were painful to bear. In one, the captain's illness returned and the doctor said he could not cure it. So she was made to spend a very long time beside his bed, praying for health. In the end though, he died, and she was denied a proper burial because of his pirate descent. In another they were back on the sea, sailing together on a terrifyingly small sloop, trying to maneuver it through a large squadron of Gondorian naval ships that threatened to capsize the small boat at any moment. Finally she slept peacefully and her dreams were uncluttered with frights.

“Put it on Avershire,” Meri demanded cooly. “I’ll not have you confronting Doran in the frumpy clothes ye’re used to.” She leaned against the frame of the bedroom door, arms crossed, and looking too handsome for her deep purple brocade gown. The captain sat, moping in a chair refusing to even look at the crisp jacket Meri had washed and pressed for him. “Shall I get your badge then?” she suggested coldly. The man swore and stood, ripping off his mussed shirt and pulled on a clean one and the jacket. He seemed in much better condition today and his woman was sure that was a good sign. Those badges may cause problems: problems they didn’t need.

The walk to the embassy took longer because of the traffic. The lines were still moving throughout the streets. It actually hadn’t occurred to Meri how many corsairs there were in Umbar. She wondered if they’d run out of badges.

Finally the gates came in view and the two walked up to them, Meri praying that there wouldn’t be too much of a problem concerning admittance. The guard was surprisingly alert and accepted the captain’s papers with congenial etiquette. Miss Loliway was glad to see a well-tempered man standing before the embassy. He perused the forms quickly before handing them back to Avershire.

“You may come in,” he announced. “Doran’s office is on the first floor south wing corridor , second on your left before the ambassador’s room.” The captain raised an eyebrow and looked sideways at Meri.

“I got it,” she whispered. Nodding, he led the way into the house.

“Twenty years service in the Gondorian Navy,” Doran mused, glancing over the papers. “Impressive indeed.” Captain Avershire and Meri Loliway were seated in highback chairs before his desk, waiting nervously for the verdict. “This is merit enough indeed I’d say. No, no badges are you required to wear. You have medals from your service?” he inquired. Avershire thought a moment and nodded.

“I have a few. A couple were taken from me though when I was--” he hesitated, “released.” Doran nodded sympathetically.

“I understand,” he said, handing the papers back to the captain. “I fear it may be that we are never taken as true equals here. There is a list of individuals who are not asked to wear badges and I shall add yours as well to it. You shall not be bothered.” He smiled and Avershire paused. That’s not exactly an honest smile, the captain mused. He had spent entirely too many years aboard a corsair frigate to not notice. But he collected his hat and bowed respectfully before offering his arm to Meri and leaving the office. He had what he wanted, it was not in his mind at all to interfere with whatever Doran was doing.

Back in the townhouse, Meri and Avershire were installing a new window when a riot broke out in the inn across the way. Swords were drawn and it was full blown. The guards arrived in a hurry but not before two Gondorians and four corsairs were killed.

The two worked faster on the window and thoughts swam in each of their minds. It is unlike sailors to stay idle for long periods of time but what was to be done? The answer would arrive later that evening while Avershire treated his woman to dinner at the Snifter and Song--an uptown inn on the higher streets of Umbar.

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[In progress]