A/N: A recent Skyrim session rekindled my love for Captain Lonely-Gale, and this story was sort of borne from that. These first chapters have been a nice distraction from the main fic I'm working on (Lily & Ash), and while I have the basic idea of the story laid out, I'm not sure how long this will turn out to be.

Note that this is more or less my created backstory for Captain Lonely-Gale, and it takes place around 20 years before the events of Skyrim. (Aka: Dovahkiin will not be present, and I'm probably going to take a lot of liberties with story canons. I'll try to remain lore-friendly though.)

If you take the time to read this please leave a comment about what you think! Comments and reviews are amazing, and go a long way to helping a story get completed! Hope you enjoy :)

Her eyes opened to the sting of icy rain on her face, spitting down from a dark, gloomy sky. The biting cold dulled the throb in her head, somewhat, though it did little to ease the pain when her memories returned.

Huleeya, she gritted her teeth as the ropes that bound her dug into her wrists before a hard hand gripped her jaw. "Ah, yer awake. Yer father'll be so relieved."

"What have you done with him?!" She spat.

The old argonian sneered at her. "Me? I've done nothin' to him." Huleeya's eyes widened slightly with understanding. "Oh. Oh oh oh. You don't know yet."

Heavy footsteps alerted them both to another presence, and she looked up from her place beneath Huleeya to see the ragged face of her uncle appear from below deck. Blood covered the front of his tunic as he heaved a body up behind him. Ata. Huleeya laughed when he saw her eyes widen in in shock.

"I think she's onto us, Casik," Huleeya sneered again, rising away from her.

"Untie her." Her uncle's deceptively calm words were nearly drowned out by the splash of her father's body hitting the icy waters portside of the ship. "We'll see if she's more agreeable than her ata."

xXx

"It's a pity, Caoimhe," Casik shook his head as she glared at him.

"He was your brother! How could you?" She sneered at him, her mind still struggling with the facts that had been presented to her.

But her uncle just shrugged. "He was a good leader, yes. But after your bitch of a mother gave birth to you, he became utterly useless. He grew soft. Became a coward. Spent our hard-earned gold to 'build a better life' or some shit," he spat the words, like they were offensive to him.

"Maybe he got tired of your whores and skooma," she seethed back, swallowing a swell of blood that had no doubt stained her teeth. Her comment earned her another backhand, drawing fresh blood as her teeth bit into her lip beneath the hit.

"Where are the logs, Caoimhe, and the maps?" Casik nipped the point of his dagger, still slick with her ata's blood, into her stomach. Not quite hard enough to break the skin, but she knew all he needed was to flick his wrist.

"Did you check his boots?" She bit back a wince as her uncle's composure cracked and she felt a trickle dribbling down to her waistline. Truth be told, her ata may have actually tried something like that at one point or another, and she resisted the urge to smirk at her now-late father's antics.

"Taliesin! Huleeya!" Her stomach sank when the two buffoons scrambled into the cabin at her uncle's shout. Taliesin. She didn't want to believe it, but there he was, in the doorway. Unharmed and apparently uncoerced. "I'm sure my lovely niece is missing her ata terribly," Casik's glare was cold and detached. "Reunite them."

xXx

She struggled. She kicked and hit and bit. Though she wasn't sure why. The cold, cruel Sea of Ghosts would be a much quicker death than staying on board with her deranged uncle and his lackeys, she was sure. But life's funny that way, she supposed.

Even still, the heel of her boot managed to catch Huleeya's gut, and then his groin, which left Taliesin unbalanced beneath her struggling.

"Caoimhe, stop!" Taliesin hissed, shoving her back against the railing. The man gave a quick, furtive glance over his shoulder at Huleeya, squinting against the rain still pelting from all directions, but his eyes were pleading when he turned back to her. "Your ata knew," he nearly had to shout above the crash of the waves and thunder. A groan and a curse told them Huleeya would be on his feet shortly. There was no more time.

Talisin shoved a thick, folded cloth over the neckline of her ripped tunic, digging it into the tight wrap of her breastband. "He told me to make sure you got this, and-"

"You fucking wench! I should gut you like Casik did your father!" Huleeya was up.

"Caoimhe," Taliesin hauled her onto the railing, clutching her torn tunic as she slipped backward. "There's a ship not far ahead. We'll pass them. Maybe they'll see you," he whispered against her ear, using his body to block Huleeya's line of sight. How lucky, she glowered back at him. "I'm sorry."

It wasn't okay, but she offered no parting insult, even has he released his hold on her. There was little comfort in knowing that her ata had trusted him, or that he'd been at least partially right to, since that trust ultimately hadn't stopped her from going over.

But life's funny that way, she supposed.