Title;; Last Boat Not Least
Rating;; T
Warning;; headcanon
Summary;; This companion being vastly different than his last, Link wanted to hear more about the man. Learning more about the captain whose ego seemed to both inflate and deflate constantly. Linebeck never quite helped this by being constantly tight lipped about where and how he grew up. So in little details like this was the only ways Link could piece together Lineebeck's backstory. The trite man with grandiose ideas of his own existence.
"So how did you get this ship?"
The question protruded from the silence. A silent look from the captain of the boat checking to see if there was any sarcasm tinged within such simple words. A look let him know that it was not truly serious and that the young boy traveling with him, Link was not actually interested. Yet, instead pale blue's stared up at him curiously, earning a rather bemused snort underneath his breath.
The younger shifted, leaning over his Captains side. "Linebeck?" He egged on the question, head tipping to the side.
Linebeck eased his shoulders, deciding to accept this as an innocent query. Tipping his own head upwards, Linebeck puffed out his chest and placed one hand 'pon it, a smile, overconfident and boastful crossing Linebeck's (oddly pale) features.
"I made her."
He announced it as a great accomplishment.
A pause later, Linebeck awaited some sort of 'ooh' or 'awe' from such an answer, yet instead, he just continued to get a quiet stare. Huffing lightly, Linebeck turned his head away from Link, once again focusing on the ship. "Don't believe me?" He assessed. Link said nothing, just continued to watch in wait of however this story would continue.
"Well then allow me to tell you the full details!"
Link shifted, going to sit on the floor of the small indoor cabin. Linebeck seemed very insistent on this story time it would seem. Not that Link would complain, he had asked the question purposefully. Wishing to know more about this man whom he was on an adventure with.
This companion being vastly different than his last, Link wanted to hear more about the man. Learning more about the captain whose ego seemed to both inflate and deflate constantly. Linebeck never quite helped this by being constantly tight lipped about where and how he grew up. So in little details like this was the only ways Link could piece together Lineebeck's backstory. The trite man with grandiose ideas of his own existence.
Linebeck cleared his throat, pulling levers, flipping switches, before he finally turned to Link. The ship slowly chugging to a halt. This was for their protection, Link understood. Sometimes his plotted points held obstacles in their ways which required Linebeck's attention to avoid.
He was in story mode. A mode Link usually referred to whenever the sailor felt particularly good that day. Going out of his way to call himself greater than usual and bright up all of his great feats.
Smiling, Linebeck leaned back with his hand still placed warmly at his chest.
"It was eight years ago—"
Link made a face.
"—don't you give me that look! Despite my relatively youthful appearance, I have a few years more experience on my shoulders." Linebeck tipped his head down, chuckling. Link restrained rolling his eyes, still wishing to hear this story. "As I was saying. Eight years ago. I had just gotten a job at a repair shop."
This perked Link's interest. "Yes, yes, like that man you go to when we find those ship parts." Linebeck waved his hand, dismissing further discussion on who or where.
"Either way!" He was quick to pick up again. "I had just gotten a job at a repair shop …"
. . .
Linebeck had been in his mid-twenties. The man's attitude was quite different than it was now. Once he was uncertain and easily frightened, quick to run away from any sort of disagreement. (Link wanted to question how that was any different than now, but kept silent lest he would intercept the story.) During those young years of his life away from the old thrum of his home, he had to find a way of living. Something to give him a few extra rupees and a room at the inn. The small bag would only go so far after all, and Linebeck was certainly not the type used to needing to go without eating.
So, he searched.
Scrawny and so easily terrified as he was, Linebeck was dismissed again and again, certain safe jobs not hiring. (Link suspected that a few of them that required social interaction declined Linebeck for his attitude towards others.) So, slowly the young man's poor plight grew worse and worse.
His choices slowly dwindling to either a room or a meal quickly coming when a thickly built man came into the bar one evening. He ordered a drink. Linebeck ordered the same thing.
That had what earned him a conversation. What had earned him a job (and the last rupees in his wallet) had been keeping up with the built man's drinking.
That was how Linebeck told the tale. Link saw the slight shift in Linebeck's gaze however. The way he licked at his lips quickly, telling a different story, or so Link suspected. Though he did not call out the lie.
The next morning, Linebeck explained, he had been told to go to the shack near the edge of the island. A boat repair shop, and apparently a very prominent one in the town. So, Linebeck had agreed. Any question as to where or what island was quickly dismissed, ignoring it to instead keep talking.
His job was a relatively easy one. He was supposed to inspect the boats, find the issues and calculate the costs based on the cost of the ship parts. Linebeck did so with gusto, learning as quick as he could to earn a few rupees for his keep.
Yet, as the days turned to weeks, Linebeck was feeling restless
"I had been on the sea for twelve years," He explained a rather unimpressed looking Link, "As my first and only true love," Linebeck placed the back of his hand to his forehead, "I could not stand to be parted from her for so long!"
So, he began making requests of his boss. Small ones at first. Earning trust and prestige from the older man. He had earned quite the pretty rupee for their shop after all. Finding all the little nooks and crannies, knowing how to phrase it that boaters and fishermen would simply insist on paying to get it fixed. (This earned a little half-glare from Link, to which Linebeck merely ignored.)
His boss was a good man, at the end of the day, he even offered to help Linebeck. Teaching him new tricks of the trade. Not only in finding problems with ships, but also helping him learn nuances of the sea. Ways to upkeep a boat. Quick fixes that could be used for short periods of time while working on the bigger problem.
He was oddly well known among the town at this point. It was a good two years since he had first gotten there, and Linebeck was more than ready to have his own boat. He did not buy her. This Linebeck insisted sharply, arms crossing over his chest defensively.
He had learned from his boss the meaning behind a well-crafted vessel. Without the bulk or muscle left Linebeck in quite the predicament. So Linebeck worked on finding parts. Ship graveyards, parts that were no longer in use, anything Linebeck could get his hands on pre-made he fit together like puzzle pieces. Welding and putting together piece by piece until Linebeck had finally finished her.
A ship he could be proud of.
Something unlike anything anyone had ever seen before.
A steam ship, rare enough on the seas, with its own flare. Its own personality. His boss double checking his work … before declaring her sea worthy.
On that day, Linebeck, with his Boss' help, slowly sunk the boat in for her first time in the water. It was a glorious feeling … one of sheer accomplishment and warmth that just swelled in his chest.
. . .
"So I named her the S.S. Linebeck. After th' one who built her." Linebeck moved, settling a hand warmly on the ships cabin, gently rubbing the woodwork. The earnest care for a ship that was rarely seen for another person. "An' that's how she came to be."
"What was your boss' name?" Link chimed curiously.
"Not gonna tell ya, Squirt." Green eyes narrowed before he moved forward and, with a boot, nudged Link's leg. "Now up. Get outta here an' man that cannon. We've still got five hours'a daylight t'make it to the next island."