Heads up, this might end up being a bit cringe-y.

And if you do spot any errors, feel free to give me a heads up, and feedback on the entries would also be much appreciated.

Home

Part I

In the endless blizzard surrounding Chaldea, it became rather difficult to tell the time every now and then. Sometimes the snow would come down so thick light would be unable to reach the ground below, plunging them into artificial night.

Of course, this wasn't an issue as the organization provided a centralized time system to permit everyone in the complex to keep the same time. The rooms even came with their own alarms that could be activated and deactivated at the person's discretion.

It was quite different from what she had become used to. As a Captain she had been afforded private quarters, though her boys were far from proper and tended to bust in whenever something important came up instead of knocking.

On land, she had attendants follow her around everywhere and never was she given a moment's peace.

Court was no better, for she had to deal with all the nonsense that came with her position and having to live with the fact that everyone around her wanted something from her and more often than not just refused to say what.

For many, many, many years, that is what home was for her.

As such, she certainly liked that the room she was in didn't have it active and that no one would dare bother the residents unless it was a true emergency.

Sitting up, blue eyes glinted in the darkness as she stretched, enjoying the soft ache as strained muscles were woken.

Oh, that was nice. She hadn't felt that sore in a long, long while.

It was then she felt her stomach rumble.

She supposed it was typical to be hungry at this point.

Stifling a laugh, she looked to the dark mass beside her. She was sure her eyes widened.

"I'm hungry. I'll probably head out for a bite."

The mass stirred upon hearing her voice. It swelled, and shrunk, and rocked from one side to the next.

A muffled groan.

"Still tired?" This time she didn't stop the small chuckle, but she did suppress the desire to lean in closer. "Well, you did have a busy night, I suppose." Tapping a finger to her chin, she contemplated. "I think I can make some pancakes. Shall I make you some?"

Another muffled groan, though this one came with some movement and a bit of a struggle.

"It's no trouble. You work on getting unstuck, yourself."

A pleased hum.

One she returned with no small bit of affection. "Sounds like a plan. I'll see you downstairs then." She moved to get up, and used the dim light to navigate the rather expensive room. Slipping into the first bit of clothing she found - a robe, it felt like - she made sure to close it with her belt which she had half-stumbled into with her foot, she walked to the door.

Just as it slid open, white light flooding the room and illuminating what was apparently a rather large mass underneath the sheets, she heard one more muffled mumble.

"I know the way, don't worry." She waved back offhandedly.

Just as the door slid closed, she could vaguely hear the sheets rustle and more groans coming from the pile under the sheets. She smirked while trying to straighten her wild mane of red hair.

It looked like things might be a while more in there.

She contemplated going back in but thought better of it.

They had time now. Much more time.

She had been introduced to the immediate area quite soon upon her arrival. She had to be outfitted with her own quarters, after all. As such, she had a rough idea of the layout of the wing she was in.

Straight down the hall she went, thankful that the wing she was in was carpeted for she had forgotten her slippers back in the room. She walked down the stairs the lead into a landing flanked on each side by a hallway that lead to the living amenities in the wing. Straight ahead was the staircase that would have taken her down to the grand hall which linked this wing to the rest of the apartments.

The kitchen was on the right and was rather small for a base that was supposed to house several hundred staff-members, though made sense when she recalled that it was designed only to cater to the people living in the suites.

She whistled when she began rummaging through the cupboards, though, finding the place surprisingly well-stocked despite the supposedly-dire straights everything was supposed to be in.

Now, to figure out how everything worked.

"If you're planning to cook, I might be able to help you figure out how everything works." Came a voice from behind her. "I highly doubt the Commander would appreciate you burning down his kitchen on your first day here, Captain." There was laughter in the woman's voice, though it was suppressed.

"The help will be much appreciated!" She turned, blue eyes meeting purple.

Medea of Colchis was dressed rather warmly in a white standard-issue robe. She had a cup of tea in one hand.

Ah, Earl Grey from the smell of it. Possibly even from the Commander's stash.

The younger woman put down her cup on the island counter then proceeded to show her how to work the electric stove and where to get things she would need for pancakes, pausing briefly upon noticing the robe the Captain was wearing.

It would be minutes later that the Captain would finally be cooking properly, with the pancakes slowly cooking on the pan with her occasionally checking to make sure they were cooking evenly. Medea sat at the counter slowly taking her tea while another cup had been prepared by the witch for the cook in exchange for some of the cooking food.

She could feel eyes on the back of her head. It wasn't uncommon during life, and it certainly didn't bother her.

She liked this. It was quiet. The Captain certainly had no illusions about her life coming to this as she knew what she had gotten into long before she was summoned.

This was rare, though. It was nothing like court, or the ships, or her fleet.

It felt nice to be domestic for a change.

That was a nice thought.

Softly, she began humming a song, the music filling the quiet kitchen.

"The British Grenadiers? That's an interesting song to know." Medea eventually said when the Captain finished the song once. "Wasn't that song after your time?"

She nodded, still not taking her eyes off the food. One of the pancakes had just been moved from the pan to a plate and she had started on a new one to make the most of the space.

"I learned it while I had been with you lot. It grew on the lads and I and eventually the entire fleet started to sing it, too, some nights."

"The Commander?"

Again, she nodded, though this time accompanying it with a hum of affirmation before returning to humming the song.

It had been quite the adventure, that. Perhaps one of her most enjoyable if not the greatest. It certainly was hard to top singlehandedly stopping the Spanish Armada, but that trip had been a memorable one.

She remembers nights on the deck, showing him how to navigate. She remembers times with the crew and some of the other Servants - Medea had been there, in fact - and sharing food and drink and company.

The music had certainly been something to not forget.

She remembers charging up the sandbar to meet the enemy with their men, the Hind's cannons roaring in the background and peppering the area with iron, adrenaline running high as steel met steel and blood was spilled into the pacific.

"You know, when you arrived I wasn't sure whether I was to welcome you, or to welcome you back."

Now that made the Captain look, making sure to flip one of the more finished ones so that they could cook more evenly.

Medea was still seated, though she was cupping her tea with both hands now and staring into the amber liquid.

"Okeanos seems so far away now, though it's plain to see that you never forgot what happened." And that the Commander certainly hadn't went unsaid but was understood regardless.

'Welcome back,' huh.

The pace was certainly different here. There was no sea, and many times there was no sun. The room didn't rock from side to side and alternatively, there was no court intrigue that consumed the rest of her life on land.

Here, there was only the mission and she was free to live as she liked the rest of the time.

Here, she had the adventure she wanted with somehow more and less responsibility than before. The stakes were higher, but she was far from alone.

Like how she didn't have to bear the brunt of leadership alone - hell, she almost never had to lead at all.

And she was surrounded by more than just subordinates. The people in Chaldea weren't her crew, or her rivals, or people that would see her reign as queen crumble.

They were her peers, in all but name.

When the witch looked up it was to see the Captain smiling at her with the same grin the older woman wore when she walked through the portal and greeted the Commander.

Medea returned it.

"Welcome home, captain Francis Drake."

Passing the woman the stack of pancakes, Elizabeth the First replied:

"It's good to be home, Medea. Now help me set the table because we have people coming down soon and after the first night I've had, I'm sure they're going to be hungry."