Sorry for the long wait with this chapter, moving house was a pain in the arse. I had to cut this chapter down because it'd be too long with what I originally planned for it, but I am writing the next chapter already so hopefully you guys won't have to wait so long this time. Hope you enjoy!
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Over the next few days, Lena could just feel the eyes of the whole crew following her every move. Of course the word had somehow got out that she'd talked to a mermaid, whether she'd been seen or one of the sailors had overheard her conversation with Angela, she wasn't sure. She did trust that Angela wouldn't have let slip, however, without needing to ask the doctor.
At first it made her feel uncomfortable; the constant gawking and hushed whispers as she passed by on the top deck, as if they thought she couldn't hear it. Lena prided herself on being pretty confident, but knowing that her every move was constantly being scrutinised made her doubt. She'd further tightened her binding wrap since the gossip leak, hoping that it hid her well enough.
As she'd guessed, Reinhardt had been ecstatic. He'd clapped her on the back proudly and offered to give her more fighting lessons, just in case the sea witch came back for him. A small smile touched her lips as she thought back to their short conversation the day before…
She felt a large, bear-like hand almost shove her forwards as a deep, booming laugh filled the quarters. "That's my boy, Leo! Did you give her the old 'one-two'?"
"Actually-"
"HARHAR, of course you did!"
He'd pressed her for more on her tale, wanting to know the details on how she'd 'escaped' the mermaid's clutches. Lena had to snort at that. It seemed the story had expanded into a load of gobshite, now bordering on farfetched and exaggerated. Even after telling Reinhardt how it had actually played out- without including the little chat she'd had- the captain still insisted that she was being modest.
Both she and Angela had decided against telling Reinhardt about Lena's theory, at least until she had herself some hard proof to prove her claim. She didn't like holding secrets, but Lena could think of nothing worse that confiding in him, only to be proven wrong. Angela on the other hand had somewhat believed her to some extent, or at least she wanted to believe. She knew the doctor trusted her enough not to take advantage of that.
Lena felt her shoulders sag in shame at the thought of Angela's trust, the guilt weighing down on her like a sack of bricks. Least of all Lena wanted to do was to disappoint her. She hoped it'd stay that way after she revealed herself.
She recalled what Winston had said a few nights ago at the pub, and he was right. The longer she left it, the harder it would be. She sighed, thunking her head back against the mast.
The whispering had died down a touch, bringing her out of her cabin- or cave as she preferred to call it. She found herself sitting on the top deck, watching the crew bustle about with their chores as she sat elevated on a heavy crate; her legs swinging back and forth and her fingers tapping impatiently against the wooden box to a silent beat.
She waited for Angela to join her for the next trip into town. Since Lena had neglected her previous list of items to trade for, Angela was being sent to keep an eye on her as well as help. Though whatever the doctor was doing, she was taking her sweet time.
Lena looked around, taking in her surroundings. Despite the usual sunny weather in Ilios, it was a pretty overcast day. The sort of weather which would appear normal back at London. The sky was dotted with smoky grey clouds and the wind howled against the rocking ship; the sea roiling roughly against sides and the mast behind her creaked and shuddered. Only thing missing would be the rain, Lena mused.
Finally, Angela appeared through the double doors of the captain's quarters. Lena took in the other woman's appearance. The doctor's usual white lab coat was gone, revealing a smartly ironed, ruffled white blouse and a navy buttoned up waistcoat in its place. Even her black boots were shinier. Her hair also looked tidier, not a misplaced strand to be found. Her eyes appeared less tired, instead, her face was almost glowing; the black bags underneath her eyes a few nights ago had completely disappeared, taken up by a bright eyed gaze and a light smile.
Lena gawked at her in awe. Funny how the doctor could go from looking like a zombie without caffeine, to looking like a bloody serene angel. Give her a halo and she'd look exactly that.
How the hell does she manage that…?
Angela made her way over with a small wave, her boots tread lightly over the smooth wooden deck. "Ready to go, Leo?"
"Took you long enough!" Lena planted both hands on the crate, using her upper body strength to push her weight and leap from the crate she sat on, promptly landing in front of the blonde doctor without even a wobble. "You scrub up pretty well mind, trying to impress someone?"
Angela snorted softly. "Hardly. My work is my only focus, you know that."
"Oh, Angie… we need to get you out more."
Angela's eyes rolled as she stepped off the ship, beckoning Lena to follow her. "Come on, before the Amari's close for the day."
Lena hurried forward, falling into step alongside the other woman as they crossed the wooden planks of the platform, which the ship was docked next to.
Today, Reinhardt had given them the address of the local smithy, hopeful that with Angela joining Lena on her daily job, they'd actually manage to get what he'd asked for. He was far from annoyed at Lena, however the crew desperately needed the shipment of weapons they had ordered since arriving at Ilios.
They didn't talk much, save for some idle chit chat. Both women walked in a comfortable silence as they made their way through the quaint little town, strolling through the food stalls- with Angela having to literally drag Lena away from- until they found a building up ahead with a small, hanging white sign in the shape of a shield, featuring a painted black anvil with a hammer. The words 'Amari's Blacksmith' were written below it in black writing.
Lena looked down at the yellow slip of parchment she held, holding the address to their destination, then back up at the sign. She glanced at Angela. "Looks like the right place, eh?"
The doctor nodded, reaching a hand past Lena to wrap her slender fingers around the brass hoop, lifting the knocker before pushing it back down. She knocked three times, each one a hollow echo as the knocker slammed against its screwed down plate.
A few metallic clangs and a muffled curse could be heard through the wooden door, which suddenly swung open to reveal a tall, dark skinned woman.
She looked to be in her 30's; dark, piercing brown eyes swept over the both of them and full lips slid into a frown. Her dark shoulder length hair that framed her pretty face was adorned with braids, held together by several golden beads. Her attire consisted of a dark grey vest which clung to her muscled shoulders and front, black capri pants hugged her hips and black buckled shoes covered her feet. She appeared to be nursing her hand, the fingers now turning an angry shade of red. Something which Angela took quick notice of, her eyes narrowed.
The woman in the doorway cleared her throat, hiding her injured hand behind her back once she saw Angela frowning at it. "Can I help you?" a pleasingly smooth Arabian accent greeted both their ears.
"G'morning, love! Got a order for a Mr. Wilhelm?"
Reaching into her jacket pocket, Lena fished around for the order receipt before handing it over to the Egyptian woman. She looked over it, checking the name and order content.
The young Amari nodded once, remembering last week's order before addressing Lena. "Ah, Reinhardt?"
"That's the one!"
The woman smiled, making her seem a lot less intimidating. She held the door open for the two to join her over the threshold. "Come, my mother is just finishing his request."
The smithy was quite dark, save for a few candle brackets which decorated each wall, giving off a cosy glow. It was swelteringly hot inside, the steam rose from the hot coals which resided inside the large furnace pit covering the middle of the room. Weapons and tools hung from the walls and lay across most surfaces, giving off an overall messy look. Behind the counter sat a bookcase with a small collection of books, including a few mechanic favourites that Lena knew the names of. Plans and orders littered the workbench next to them.
Angela sidled up to the taller woman, while Lena stepped up to the bookcase, thumbing through the books on the shelves. "Ana is your mother?" Angela asked, earning a nod from the blacksmith. "You must be Fareeha, yes?"
"And you must be Dr. Ziegler, am I correct?" at Angela's questioning look, she added quickly, "My mother spoke of you."
"Reinhardt spoke of you. Seems to think of you as a master craftswoman." Angela smiled at the slight awkward look on Fareeha's face she got in return, as well as a mumbled "Old man exaggerates…" under the woman's breath.
The doctor huffed out a short laugh. "He trusts no-one else to craft his weapon orders, you must be rather good at what you do." And at that, the tanned woman smiled.
Angela's eyes scanned over the messy work surface and anvil to her left, the woman's latest project catching her eye; an impressively balanced steel sword with encrusted gold filigree swirls laid into the handle. A small iron hammer lay next to it. The doctor frowned, suddenly remembering the yelp from behind the door earlier. She looked down again at the young Amari's hand- which she continued to try and hide behind her back. Before Angela could say anything, the woman shrugged it off. "It's just a scratch."
Angela eyes narrowed as she grabbed the woman's arm, taking her hand in her own to bring it closer to inspect. She took in the state of the blacksmith's injured hand; the flesh looked battered and bruised, purple-black blotches marred the surface. "A scratch. Your hand is turning purple, Fareeha."
"It's fine."
"I'm patching you up."
Fareeha winced as she tried to pull her hand out of Angela's grasp. "No, I-"
This woman is so stubborn! Angela only gripped her wrist harder, but not enough to further injure Fareeha's hand as she dragged the woman over to the bench beside the desk, pulling out a small medipack she usually kept in her satchel. "Doctor's orders! I insist."
All the while, Lena just watched from behind, amused as the blacksmith sat down grumpily with a small scowl. She knew there was no point in resisting Angela, she'd already been down that route with her own injuries. Trying to hide them never got past the doctor, Lena found that out long ago. Smiling to herself, she focused her attention back to the bookcase, just in time as a familiar blue blur dashed passed the window beside it. Her eyes widened.
She jumped to the window, both hands and nose pressed firmly up against the gritty surface. Her breath clouded the glass pain as she craned her neck each way to see either side of the alleyway.
Surely it couldn't be…?
Lena glanced back over at the other two. Now the blacksmith was pointedly staring at the opposite wall, too embarrassed to look at Angela or what she was doing. The doctor had taken her hand and started kneading and prodding the palm and knuckles, trying to gauge a reaction from the other woman, but to no avail. Fareeha was determined to keep a straight face by the looks of it. Even though Lena couldn't see the woman's face, Angela's expression was clearly irritated at the lack of reactions.
Slowly and as quietly as she could manage, Lena skirted the wall; keeping her eye on the two woman in front of her as she scooted her way closer to the door with her back flush against the wall, hoping not to step on any creaky floorboards as she did so. Her heart hammered, beating loudly against her chest; so much so that she worried it would be heard from across the room. To her relief, neither woman paid any attention to the suspicious looking engineer trying to be stealthy as she reached the door. Still with her eyes on the women in front of her, she blindly reached around behind her for the door handle.
"You have my thanks, Dr. Ziegler…"
"Please, call me Angela."
Panic filled Lena like air in a balloon. Angela would almost be done and she'd never let Lena go out by herself after last time. This was her only chance. She took a quick frantic look behind her to find the iron doorknob, reaching for it to yank open the door quickly and quietly before slipping through the crack, promptly pushing and clicking it shut behind her.
Cold air blew across her red flushed cheeks as she stepped outside, leaning against the door behind her as she let out a relieved sigh. Lena hadn't realised how hot the smithy had been, the fresh air being a welcome change.
She looked around, looking for any sign of a familiar blue skinned figure through the busy crowds at the food stalls. She frowned, her eyes scanning the street around her. Would the woman be foolish enough to try and blend with that crowd? Probably not. It was more likely that she would keep to the shadows, on the very edges of town, in alleyways maybe? Lena hoped she was right as she pushed herself off the door, making her way down the closest one to the left of the smithy.