Chapter 12 THE LOCKER NOVEMBER 1686
Britannia winced at the sound of her apprentice's cough.
The past few weeks, Flying Dutchman had only gotten weaker as the plague virus tore its way through her body.
She had no way of fighting it. No antibodies in her blood to capture the virus and eliminate it.
Most of her days were spent at Flying Dutchman's berth, doing what she could to ease her pain.
Flying Dutchman lacked the strength to clamp down on her end of the bond so Britannia knew just what her apprentice and soul sister was going through.
She could feel everything that she felt. Know everything she knew. A bond could be both a blessing and a curse this way.
Right now Britannia believed it more of a curse.
Every swelling boil, every rash, every aching bone, Britannia could feel on her own body.
She did what she could to lessen its effect by clamping down on her end of the bond so a majority of the feelings Flying Dutchman sent her way didn't get through.
Looking at her apprentice now, Britannia couldn't stop the worry that bubbled within her.
Flying Dutchman was the only ship she had. The only one she was close to. If she lost her…
Flying Dutchman coughed again, an awful hacking sound which only went to show how her lungs suffered.
"Britannia…" She croaked.
Britannia was at her side in an instant. "I'm here, what is it." She replied, brushing her nose against her side.
"Don't be afraid." Flying Dutchman begged her.
Britannia froze. The bond went both ways. Just as Britannia could feel Flying Dutchman's aches and pains, so Flying Dutchman could feel Britannia's frayed emotions.
"I'm trying not to be." Britannia replied. Desperately hoping to somehow reassure her.
"I know you're frightened. I understand why but please, I don't want you to be." Flying Dutchman begged.
"Should the worst happen…" Britannia cut her off there.
"Don't say that." She whispered.
Flying Dutchman glared and she fell silent.
"Should the worst happen," she began again. "I will be in eternal paradise. What is there to be afraid of?"
"Losing you." Britannia replied, blinking back her tears.
Flying Dutchman smiled at her.
"No." She said gently. "Never lose me. I'm always here." She touched her nose gently to Britannia's side.
The tears found their way from Britannia's eyes before she could stop them.
"Please, hold on…" She begged her, her voice breaking.
Flying Dutchman smiled. "Like I would dream of letting go." She replied.
Britannia cradled her against her side, kissing the top of her head.
Humming a lullaby, she rocked her apprentice to sleep.
Flying Dutchman began throwing up a black tarlike substance starting early the next morning.
She'd nudged Britannia harshly first thing.
"Hmm, wha?" Britannia muttered, raising her head off her apprentice.
"Britannia, move please." Flying Dutchman begged.
"Why, what's wrong?" Britannia asked.
Her apprentice didn't answer, she just raced off around the corner.
Moments later, an awful retching sound was heard.
Britannia closed her eyes and sighed. Puking was the next phase that the virus took.
One a sufficient number of the correct antibodies were produced in the blood, the body went about attempting to eliminate the virus.
This stage was usually the most dangerous. Most ended up dying of dehydration rather than the actual virus itself.
Flying Dutchman came back a few minutes later, struggling to keep an even keel. Her equilibrium was off, her high fever throwing her off balance.
Britannia raced forward, offering her side for support.
Flying Dutchman sent her a grateful glance, too weak to use words.
This only worried Britannia more and she remained by her apprentice's side for the rest of the day, not once leaving her to eat or drink herself.
Flying Dutchman noticed this and while it worried her, she wasn't going to try and call Britannia on it. The old ship was just too stubborn to listen when she was in this state.
Britannia watched as her apprentice turned a nasty shade of green for the fourth time that day.
Sighing, she placed a bucket in front of Flying Dutchman and supporting her head, helped her to throw up into it.
Flying Dutchman spent several minutes throwing up before she deemed herself done for the time being and rested her head back down on the dock, gazing up at Britannia with grateful green eyes.
"Now you just rest. No sense in wearing yourself out now." Britannia encouraged.
"T-take your own advice, Britannia." Flying Dutchman rasped.
"Hmm?" Britannia questioned.
"I haven't once seen you eat a scrap of food. You can't care for me if you just end up running yourself down." Flying Dutchman replied.
Britannia sighed. "I'm just worried for you is all." She replied.
"I know, but please try not to be." Flying Dutchman begged. "When you get worried you forget to take care of yourself."
"You're my first priority." Britannia answered.
"A flattering thought surely." Flying Dutchman chuckled. "But not at the cost of your own health."
Britannia shifted her weight against the edge of the berth, still uncertain.
"Britannia, please?" Flying Dutchman begged.
Britannia sighed, knowing she couldn't win this argument.
"Very well. I'll be right back." She promised.
"I know you will." Flying Dutchman replied.
They shared a brief nuzzle before Britannia sailed out in search of food.
Flying Dutchman was right to get on Britannia when she did. It'd been a full day since she'd eaten last and already, Britannia was feeling a bit weak.
A ship her size required a constant source of calories to keep her going.
Her blue eyes narrowed as she scanned the horizon for any food source.
A group of spouts told her what she needed to know.
There was a pod of whales a few miles from her position and Britannia quickly fell into a parallel course, drawing slightly ahead after a time once she'd established their direction of travel.
"Come to mamma." She whispered as they approached.
She crouched down in order to make herself less visible on the surface and when one whale swam close enough she snatched it in her jaws, quickly biting down on its spinal column.
It was a medium sized female humpback whale. In Britain, one would make a lot of money off a catch like this. Ambergris was always a valuable resource, in more ways than one.
Britannia carried her catch back to Flying Dutchman, who marveled at the size of it.
"You're really that hungry?" She asked.
"No, but we can always share." Britannia replied.
"Thanks but I'd just throw it up again." Flying Dutchman replied.
Britannia sighed. "I know." She said, nuzzling her gently.
Flying Dutchman purred, then stiffened.
Sighing, Britannia helped to lift her head as Flying Dutchman threw up again. This time lasted longer than most, about 10 full minutes.
The young fluyt was left gasping for air in between heaves.
"Easy now, easy." Britannia whispered, rubbing her muzzle against Flying Dutchman's side in an effort to help her breathe better.
Her worry grew with each heave her apprentice made. Flying Dutchman was weakening. So far, she'd had the strength of a youth to help her along but even that had its limit.
Britannia could only hope her will was strong enough to pull through this alive.
When through, Flying Dutchman raised her head to look at her mentor. When she found Britannia's gaze was turned away from her, either out of shame or fear, she grew angry.
"Look at me!" She growled. When Britannia didn't answer, Flying Dutchman's temper reached boiling point.
"HMS BRITANNIA!" She growled.
Britannia's head snapped around to stare at her apprentice, surprise and shock evident in her features.
"I know how I must look to you, absolutely pathetic in my feverish, puking state but please, control your emotions. When you're afraid, I'm afraid. More for you than anything." Flying Dutchman said.
"I'm sorry." Britannia said. She was sorry to have caused her apprentice any more issues to deal with.
"You know as well as I that if I do die, I'll join the Ancients. I'll be in paradise. Do you really think that's bad?" Flying Dutchman asked.
"No, but I just-I can't lose you…" Britannia whispered.
Images flooded her mind before she could stop them. Memories of ships who suffered from a broken bond. Most went insane and tried to kill themselves. Others were too afraid to live and too afraid to die and so lived out the rest of their lives in misery.
These very same images found their way over the bond and suddenly Flying Dutchman understood the truth behind Britannia's fears.
She wasn't afraid for her. She was afraid for herself. A selfish fear but an understandable one, if Flying Dutchman read these memories correctly.
She sent back waves of reassurance along their mental link, trying to convince her that such things would never happen. Not to her. She was too strong for that. She would go on.
Britannia persisted though, showing her apprentice a few locked away memories of her after she had lost her task force during the war.
She'd tried to drown herself in the bottle and had turned to any means she could to try and cope with her loss.
"What if I go back there again?" She thought. "It was so dark, and frightening…"
"You're stronger than that, Britannia. You're better than that." Flying Dutchman assured her. "That won't happen to you again and if you try it, I will stop you."
Britannia smiled at the determined tone in her apprentice's mental voice. Flying Dutchman hadn't lost her fighting spirit in the slightest.
"Even if I do die, I'm always with you." Flying Dutchman whispered.
"I know, thank you Dutchman." Britannia replied, resting her bow against her side.
That night, as Flying Dutchman slept, Britannia kept a close eye on her.
But it wasn't fear that drove her on now, it was love.