A Forlorn Fortnight 【Complete】

[Nero]

Day 8

 

The restlessness that had plagued him for the previous seven suns had left him, for now. Daegsatz found his thoughts wandering without aid, without needing the act of drawing or reading or food to distract him. It was comforting to set his mind free for many bells at a time. Sometimes it was daydreams; thinking about where he would be if he made different choices in the past, thinking about how he would spend his future. Other times, it would be about his friends: if Garalt still kept a bottle of vintage port in his footlocker, if Nero and Roen were getting along, if O'taqa had finally learned which end of a cannon made the explosion.

 

Nero. What was his plan? Daegsatz' captain had taken care to leave his crew out of it; the one time Daegsatz had questioned it, Nero's response was evasive at best. The two of them had known each other long enough to pick up on such signals. Nero did not want to speak of it, and so Daegsatz did not ask.

 

And what about Roen? Daegsatz grinned wistfully. She was a strong woman; having someone like her on the Second Forte would have been splendid. Though, on second thought, perhaps it would not be a terribly good idea: not only did some of the crew believe that a woman on board a ship, especially a pirate ship, would bring nothing but bad luck--superstitious lot, as they were--but given the paladin's fair features, she'd more than likely be harassed to an uncomfortable degree. As disciplined as the Forte's crew were, they were still pirates at heart.

[Roen]

Well, at least she did not arrest him.

 

The meeting between Nero and Coatleque had gone about as well as expected, though Roen had hoped for more. Ser Crofte was guarded in her answers throughout the conversation, watching the smuggler with a careful eye. Nero was doing the same, gauging the Sultansworn. Roen doubted Coatleque to have come away from that meeting any more reassured about the pirate than before, and Roen herself had not added much to the exchange. She was still unsure where she stood with the smuggler after Lost Hope. The tension between them was thick enough to cut with a blade.

 

What disappointed Roen more than anything, however, was that Nero had not won Ser Crofte over; he could not give her a clear reason to try and advocate for Daegsatz’s release. When Roen had approached her about it afterwards, Coatleque seemed cautious and deflected her questions to Captain Jenlyns instead. Roen’s heart sank; her history with the Captain had not been the smoothest. Roen hoped that there was no ill will remaining between them. He had extended an invitation for her to return to the Order after the exoneration, after all.

 

It was with that hope that Roen had submitted her request to meet with him. Perhaps I will have good news for Daegsatz on the morrow, the paladin hoped.

 

But she had promised the Sea Wolf good news this day. So Roen had brought something else to offer to the Roegadyn in trying to brighten his day. She gave a small lopsided smile to the Lalafellin jailor when he gave her an odd look with a quirked brow. With the roll of his eyes, the guard let her through, not bothering to question the whys of what she had brought.

 

When she entered his cell, Roen patted her basket and greeted Daegsatz with a smile and a nod. She was determined not to let this visit be plagued by ill tidings or dreary reflections. “I have no news yet of your release,” she began with a quick apology even though her eyes twinkled with a hint of mirth, “...but I brought something else today. If you will humor me.”

[Nero]

Daegsatz raised an eyebrow, but gave a small smile. "It be heartwarmin' ta see yer spirits raised, lass." The Sea Wolf felt his own morale raise a bit; her somber mood yesterday had worried him a bit in more ways than one. It was not difficult to tell that Nero had not been kind to her on their outing; while the smuggler was more than capable of being cheery and friendly as a front, he bore no hesitation when it came to being sharp and venomous.

 

"Don't s'pose yer here ta tell me that they be finally lettin' me 'ave conjugal visits, eh?" The Roegadyn was typically too disciplined to engage in such vulgar humour, but there was nothing wrong with cutting loose every now and then. Especially given his circumstances.

[Roen]

Roen made a straight face at Daegsatz.

 

The Sea Wolf and the Hyur may have looked at each other with a deadpan expression for what seemed like ages before the paladin shook her head. “Um. Nay. Apologies.”

 

Roen narrowed her eyes as she spotted the smile reemerge on the Roegadyn’s rugged features. She cleared her throat and approached his cot, settling to a seat at the very edge of it. She laid her basket on top of her lap, her lips twisting as she reconsidered her plan for a moment.

 

“Well…” she chuckled nervously. “I hope you are not going to be disappointed then.” The paladin laid her hands neatly over the lid of the basket, her eyes crinkling with warmth. “I thought we could try something a little different today.” She pulled the linen cover away and drew out a small ornately decorated bronze box. Her fingers gently wound the small lever on the side, before she opened the lid. A delicate melody began to play, a slowly rotating cylinder starting to pluck the metal keys within.

 

“You told me you wanted to see me dance,” Roen gently laid the music box on the cot and rose. She turned around and grinned at Daegsatz.

 

“And your captain told me that your name means Soldier Dance.” The paladin dipped in a small curtsy then extended a hand to him. “So? I thought I would you show you, and you can show me what your name means.”

[Nero]

Daegsatz barked a laugh. "Lass, ye be a bold one indeed! Ye be thinkin' we dance in a gaol?" The Roegadyn gave an amused glance to the confinements of the gaol. It was a narrow cell; were the Sea Wolf to lay down across the width of the gaol, there would be just barely enough room for his head.

 

"Und'r ordinary circumstances, I be more than 'appy ta fulfill yer request," the Roegadyn said with a wide grin. "But me 'dances' be for what me name implies; soldiers, and war. It not be the delicate movements ye prob'ly be used ta." Daegsatz glanced about the gaol instead. "And 'sides, there not be room! It be terrible fer me conscience if I be responsible fer swinging yer head against a wall by accident! But if ye be willin', I be more 'an happy ta be a witness to yer technique."

[Roen]

Roen canted her head, a playful challenge twinkling in her eyes. Daegsatz did not know how stubborn the paladin could be.

 

“I have always liked dancing because it was much like battle, except without weapons. Gauging your partner, moving as he does...” She glanced about, noting the walls and the ceiling, the cramped dimensions. If the Sea Wolf was anything but a Roegadyn, she surmised they could do some basic steps. As it was, the cell did not give him much room to even move around by himself.

 

“Jojon gave me the same look,” Roen clasped her hands behind her back as she leaned back against the bars, glancing to where the Lalafellin guard had strolled off. “I told him you needed to stretch your legs, and what better way? He thought I was daft.” She gave Daegsatz a sidelong glance with a smirk. “Perhaps I am. But I bet I can convince him to have you walk about in the corridor.”

 

Roen pushed herself off the bars, clasping her hands in front of her. “Come now. It has been cycles since my last lesson, and it is always easier with a partner.” She gave the Sea Wolf a broad, hopeful smile.

[Nero]

Daegsatz rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, his face deepening with a slight glow. "I only be hopin' ye've already 'ad dance partners clumsier than meself," the Sea Wolf said. His next expression was a derisive snort. "Hyurs be too wiry an' thin, though. A real dance be an expression o' passion! It be raw an' unfocused, an intimidatin' display, a boast 'bout the fullness o' yer life, a war cry! Now, ye may be thinkin' such a thin' be barbaric, an' mayhaps it is." Daegsatz folded his arms. 

 

The Roegadyn waved a dismissive hand. "I accept ye challenge then, lass. Ye persuade th' guard ta let me get a bit o' exercise, and mayhaps ye be showin' me what yer lessons 'ave taught ye."

[Roen]

Roen grinned from ear to ear when Daegsatz acquiesced.

 

The paladin had come to know Jojon Serojon--the Lalafellin jailor--from her previous stay at the gaols. At first he had been aloof, exchanging a mere glance, or on rare days a word her way. But throughout her stay, Jojon had slowly warmed to her, likely noting the diligence of Ser Crofte and Natalie’s care as they visited her. By the time Roen was exonerated and was released from the gaols, he had actually given her a smile in parting.

 

Now that the paladin had taken up Ser Crofte’s role in visiting the Sea Wolf, Jojon had afforded her an extended bit patience, allowing her to bring in a skin of rum, food, books, and now even a music box.

 

But this? Well...

 

“Dancin’,” the jailor scoffed, squinting up at her. “Ye expect me to let a prisoner out of his cell so he can dance.”

 

“Well, it would be to stretch his legs really,” Roen rolled her shoulders, a cheerful smile given Jojon’s way. “But I thought I would show him some of what I learned from my childhood lessons." She gave him a wink. "And a far safer thing than practicing our swords. I assumed sparring would be out, aye?”

 

The Lalafell snorted. “Don’t be pushing yer luck, Deneith. It’s well an' fine enough I’ve been lettin’ ye bring all sorts of things in here.” He shook his small fingers at her sternly, key-ring jingling on his hip. Despite the frown he gave her, Roen thought she heard a hint of grim inevitability in his tone.

 

“Have you ever seen a Sea Wolf dance, Ser Serojon?” Roen teased, leaning in with her hands clasped behind her back.

 

Jojon paused, giving her a droll look. “I s’pose I haven’t.” When Roen answered with an expectant smile and opened palms, he rolled his eyes helplessly. “Yer lucky the Sworn gaols are empty for the time bein’. Else I’d never hear the end of this.” He walked up to the barred door and unlocked it with a key, stepping back and eyeing both the occupants with a warning. “I’ll be watchin’ the both of ye down the hall. He’s yer responsibility Deneith. If somethin’ goes wrong, it’s on yer head.”

 

Jojon tossed one more threatening glare the Roegadyn way before he made is way back toward the thick doors at the end of the corridor. There he turned and crossed his arms, watching expectantly.

 

Roen minded not the admonition as she nodded gladly. She stepped out of the cell and spun back toward Daegsatz with a delighted grin.

 

“Now. You were saying?”

[Nero]

Daegsatz shook his head ruefully. "I regret challengin' ye already, lass." He swung the door open The corridor was not significantly wider, but having spent a week in the gaol, the freedom of just being able to comfortably walk around was quite liberating indeed. The Roegadyn first took the time to stretch his arms and legs, grunting as he worked the kinks out of his knees and shoulders.

 

"Ye not be tellin' anyone about this, aye? I be 'avin' a reputation ta uphold. Anyone seein' me tryin'a waltz or what 'ave you an' there goes me intimidation factor. An' Nero not be lettin' me hear the end o' it if'n he finds out." Daegsatz nonetheless held a grin on his face as he held his hand out. "Ye be showin' me the steps, then?"

[Roen]

Roen took both his hands in hers, delicately, and drew him forward a few steps. She matched his grin as she released his hands, although hers still hovered in the air in front of her.

 

“My mother’s favorite dance was what she called salta. It was one of the first dances she taught me when I was old enough.” She could remember watching her mother and father as she hid behind the stair rails as a young child; they danced in the ballroom below, a heady combination of powerful precision and artistic passion. Her mother had moved effortlessly, gliding across the floor, the fall of her light silk gown barely caressing the marble as she spun about. Roen mimicked the movements as she remembered them.

 

Her mother and father would cross their arms as they stepped to the opposite side of each other, their limbs never quite touching. Their eyes remained on each other, always, their heads turning in practiced synchronicity even as their bodies did the opposite. They stepped across and then back, then stepped again in the opposite direction, their raised forearms meeting in the middle--hovering mere ilms away from each other before parting again. Their hands would approach each other again, wrist near wrist, as the dancers slowly walked in a circle. Roen recalled the loving glances her parents shared, here in this: their dance; so public, so private.

 

It seemed so long ago.

 

“And you do not touch," she said, though her voice caught a moment, stranded on an isle of wistful remembrance. She continued, banishing from her mind the ghosts of times she could never bring back to actual life. "It is a matching and opposing movements in proximity without actual contact that defines the dance.”

 

She paused, dropping her arms as she glanced to the Sea Wolf.

 

“Now you try.”

[Nero]

Daegsatz tilted his head, attempting to clumsily mime the movements. He'd never been exposed to the more delicate and refined pleasantries of Hyurs. Dancing of this sort was a very far cry from the usually inebriated flailing of limbs that typically served as a dance activity. The elegant movements contrasted heavily with the Roegadyn's stocky form as he attempted to replicate the manoeuvres. He crossed his arms, frequently glancing down at his feet in an attempt to gauge whether or not they were in the correct position. He felt a ruddiness rise to his face as he realised how foolish he must look.

 

Reaching the end of the routine, the Sea Wolf rubbed the back of his neck, clearing his throat. "Be a wee bit confusin', aye? What be the point o' a dance with no touch o' yer partner?" Nonetheless, he attempted to repeat the movements from memory before losing track of one of his feet, the rest of the routine escaping him.

 

"I be a poor pupil in th' subject, lass," Daegsatz confessed sheepishly.

[Roen]

Roen gave him a patient, warm smile. She tried to remember how her mother looked at her when she gave her these lessons.

 

“I was a much poorer student at my first lesson,” the paladin reassured him. She stepped forward and lifted the Roegadyn’s elbow and held her own arm opposite his. “Think of it as a sword fight. You are crossing blades, just not quite clashing against each other.” She then changed her hand, and waited for him to do so, crossing her arm with his, like blades in battle. She did it thrice more in slow motion to allow Daegsatz to follow.

 

“And then when the two meet and neither would give…” She held his arm up and hers, wrist to wrist. “Then you circle your opponent, preparing for the next move.” She slowly walked in an arc, and gestured for him to mirror her on the other side.

 

“It is much easier when you are just matching your partner, the crossing,” she said gently. “And it takes discipline not to get tangled. It is about knowing your partner’s movements and countering them. Complementing them. Moving opposite from each other, but together.”

 

The paladin smiled at Daegsatz as she went through the same motion again, slowly and deliberately so he could follow. She cared not for the exact details of his footsteps, only that he matched her. “It was the first dance I was taught, and it is still my favorite today.” She curtsied when they finished their circle.

[Nero]

Daegsatz shook his head. "If'n I be wantin' a sword fight, I think I rather just be engagin' in a sword fight," he said a bit helplessly. He slowly repeated the same motions that Roen had showed to him, the awkward stiffness in his movements receding somewhat as he mirrored the way she moved her arms and body. Three times he mirrored her gestures, slowly growing accustomed to the strange movements of arms and legs.

 

Daegsatz grunted as their brief routine concluded. "Ye be doin' this with Nero yet? It be a mighty shame if I be th' only one ta be made light of durin' our reunion." He hazily attempted to recall the movements he had just been making naught but a few minutes ago.

[Roen]

Roen’s expression quickly soured at the mention of Nero, though she tried to hide it as best she could.

 

“Ah. Nay. He and I…we do not do things like this.” She chewed her lower lip. The paladin turned toward his cell, crossed the threshold to retrieve the music box that had long stopped playing. She closed the lid, her fingers tracing the ornate metal carvings on it.

 

“We mostly argue,” she confessed quietly. “Then we argue some more. I would think something like this would only bring about more ridicule.” Her eyes narrowed, as if steeling herself against the imaginary barbs that would await her in their next meeting. "He is an angry man, your captain."

 

When Roen turned back around, it was with a forced, cheerful smile. “But I daresay, after today, you might be a bit more refined than he.”

 

“Even though I know you will never speak of it.”

[Nero]

Daegsatz coughed awkwardly, staring at the stone floor as he shuffled his feet about. In their carefree lessons of dancing, he had completely forgotten about the vitriolic relationship Roen and his captain seemed to share. Though Roen said they had argued, the Sea Wolf could not deny the similarities between the paladin and the pirate. They were both passionate people with a firm sense of justice. Both of them were kind in their own way--though evidently Roen had not been privy to the smuggler's compassion.

 

"'E wasn't always like that," Daegsatz said quietly, almost sheepishly. "When 'e came ta us as naught but a boy, 'e was 'opeful. 'ad a love of life, tried ta help when 'e could, the fishermen an' the beggars in Limsa."

 

Suddenly feeling exhausted, the Roegadyn plopped down on the floor of the corridor. The air had taken a heavy sense of melancholy. "'e used to smile a lot more, laugh a lot more...what ye be seein' now...it ain't Nero at 'is best." Daegsatz sighed, rubbing his temple. "'es changed. Garalt be seein' it. I be seein' it. 'e left Cap'n Vail an' went back ta Ul'dah near eight cycles ago...an' when 'e returned, 'e be diff'rent. Changed."

 

The Sea Wolf sent a forlorn glance at Roen, taking note of the paladin's stiffed, forced expression. "I be truly sorry that ye be 'avin' ta deal wit' 'im, the way 'e is right now. Nero be a good man...ev'n if'n 'e be tryin' ta bury it."

[Roen]

“I do believe he is a good man,” Roen replied quietly as she exited the cell. She lowered herself to a seat next to Daegsatz on the floor. “Else we would not be working together.”

 

She wound the music box in her hand and laid it in the Roegadyn’s lap, letting out a weary sigh. She opened the lid again to allow the simple metallic chimes to fill the corridor, to lighten the dark mood that had fallen between them. It saddened her to imagine that Nero’s childhood had been so hard, but despite that he had smiled and laughed freely as a boy. Even though she had only known the pirate for a few suns, she found herself mourning the loss of that bright spirit greatly.

 

Roen peered up at the Sea Wolf, some of the tension ebbing away. “And you do not need to apologize for him. I can take care of myself.” She rolled her shoulders. “Perhaps someday we can unearth what he is so desperately trying to hide.”

 

She glanced at the music box once more, before she rose to stand. “I think Ser Serojon is getting impatient with us.” Roen gave a nod down the corridor to the Lalafell who was glaring at them with arms crossed.

 

“I will leave the box here with you? Perhaps a small respite from the silence.”

[Nero]

Daegsatz tilted his head at the music box, eyeing it curiously. The idea of a sentimental gift was, even with all of his years, still a bit strange to them; Vail's pirates being pirates, gifts were not given often, and those gifts that didn't contain generous amounts of alcohol typically had some kind of practical value: weapons, an extra sack of gil, new boots, the like. The music box could arguably be defined as the antithesis of that principle. Nero would have certainly gotten a kick out of disassembling the thing, but the Roegadyn himself held no value for it.

 

And yet he kept it. Even the simple-minded Sea Wolf could see that it represented Roen's compassion. Daegsatz took care not to accidentally crush the fragile-looking box in his massive hand, and nodded at the paladin. "I'll be holdin' on ta it till me release, then," he offered as he lumbered back into the gaol, having caught the Lalafell's glare.

 

"Wish ye luck, lass. In whatever it is ye be seekin' ta do," the Roegadyn rumbled as he sat back down on the cot and watched her retreat.

 

Day 9

 

Nine suns. Much of Daegsatz' days in the gaol had been filled with idleness and boredom; those bells when Roen visited him were the only times he could expect to do anything besides lay in the cot. Even with all of the amenities she provided with him, the bells seemed to take years to pass. The stack of parchment in the corner had grown, the images on them becoming increasingly more elaborate as the Roegadyn made a conscious effort to soak up as much of his idle time as he could with them.

 

The music box, sentimental gift that it was, provided no comfort in the end, though Daegsatz was aware of its meaning. How much longer would he be in here? The question echoed in his mind with growing frequency. He was sure that sooner or later he would simply stop counting the bells and the suns, but he had not reached that point yet.

[Roen]

"An alliance between us… will not work. I have no use for those who cannot make the hard choices. Protect the people. Provide for them. Guard them from the wolves at the gates."

 

Roen still could not accept the words that echoed in her memory.

 

So...that is it?

 

Nero had ended their accord without warning. He sounded cordial even, and he did it casually, over lunch. It had left her speechless, stunned. She obviously had more hopes invested in their partnership than he had. She felt a sudden emptiness inside, as if some vital essence had been ripped out and left her to bleed out without a purpose. It surprised her--not just what he did, or how he did it, but her reaction to it.

 

When Roen entered through the barred doors of the gaol cell, she said nothing. She just greeted Daegsatz with a muted expression and a nod, making her way toward his cot and setting the basket of goods by his side. She just sank to a seat on the floor, her hands folded in her lap. The paladin stared at the basket for a long time before she spoke.

 

Talk, Roen. Just talk.

 

“I suppose you will be out of the gaols soon,” her voice sounded hoarse. “Either by your captain’s doing, or...perhaps if Ser Jenlyns feels generous.”

[Nero]

Daegsatz could tell from Roen's troubled expression that something had happened. Yet, though he wanted to ask, he had the uncomfortable feeling that it was something else to do with Nero--again. Something about constantly talking about his absent captain was beginning to make the Sea Wolf feel rather awkward, and so he avoided the topic.

 

"I be hopin' so. Seems far too long since I be seein' th' sun," Daegsatz said. "This visit ta th' gaol be everythin' I ever be 'opin' fer in a tour o' Ul'dah, but I admit I be tirin' o the city."

 

Daegsatz tried to think of more things to say, just to ramble, to distract the paladin from whatever uncomfortable thoughts she might be holding, but the Roegadyn was not nearly the same fast talker as his captain.

[Roen]

Roen nodded--an empty gesture at best. After an awkward moment of silence she forced a redirection of her thoughts. These visits should not be about her, nor should they be about Nero. She was tired of dwelling on doubts, or on the void of uncertainty that was her future now. She wanted--no, needed--to distract herself with something else.

 

“I confess, this is not the best view of Ul’dah,” she began with a forced but amiable tone. Her gaze drifted from the basket to the stack of parchment in the corner. She was avoiding meeting the Sea Wolf’s eyes. “Despite its faults, the city has a beauty all its own. I will show them to you one day, if you have not yet had the chance.”

 

She rose from her seat, coming to kneel next to the drawings. She was grasping for anything else to talk about. “Your home is Vylbrand, aye?”

[Nero]

Daegsatz shrugged. "After this experience, I not be sure that that a tour o' th' city be somethin' I be wantin' fer a while now." Though the Sea Wolf appreciated Roen's visits, sometimes they were unbearably uncomfortable. The paladin was very forthright and did not succeed very often in hiding her turbulent thoughts. Daegsatz shifted on the cot.

 

"Aye, Vylbrand be me home...th' weather be far fairer than 'ere. Though I s'pose the gaol skews me impression o' Thanalan quite a bit," the Roegadyn said, his attempt to carry the conversation forward coming out rather awkwardly.

[Roen]

Roen absently flipped through the pieces of parchment, though her eyes saw none of the detailed drawings on them. She was trying to keep her hands busy--no, her mind busy--but was failing miserably at it.

 

Daegsatz was not being much of a help, which irked her...but she was forced to admit that it could have been just her own frustrations boiling over that clouded her judgement.

 

The parchment was set back down with a quick slap, the paladin scowling. “It is probably best,” she blurted out without warning. “He and I never saw things eye to eye, anyroad.” She shot Daegsatz a sharper look than he deserved.

 

“Your captain has his way of doing things and will brook none other. No council. No mercy. No reconsideration.” She released a sharp exhale through her nose. “He and I were never meant to work together. We would have never succeeded.”

 

Even as she spoke them, Roen knew these were just words of anger fueled by bitterness. She thought proclaiming them aloud would make her feel better.

 

It did not.

[Nero]

Daegsatz wasn't sure how to respond to that. He had attempted to divert the conversation away from Nero for the paladin's sake, and yet it seemed that whatever had happened between them was severe enough for Roen to begin venting at him without provocation. 

 

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Not ta be makin' light o' yer circumstances, lass, but I be beginnin' ta feel like a parent bein' lectured by a schoolteacher 'bout 'is unruly child," the Roegadyn said. It was meant to be a joke, but on immediate reflection he sounded like he was chiding Roen for complaining to him. Daegsatz' face awkwardly split into an amused but compassionate grin. "What 'e be doin' now, lass?"

[Roen]

Roen’s face fell. She bowed her head, a hand coming over her eyes, her hiding her grimace.

 

“You are right,” she grumbled ruefully. “Every time your captain does something, I come to you seeking advice. Or an outlet. I should not. I should be asking him.” The paladin let out an exasperated sigh. “But he shares so little! And now he has broken off our agreement. He wishes to work with me no longer. I am too unwilling to bend to his ways, his ideals.”

 

“Our partnership lasted what...suns?” Roen let out a sorrowful chuckle as she glanced back to Daegsatz. “And you are in here because of it.”

 

The paladin sighed, her frustration giving way to regret. She gave Daegsatz a helpless look.

 

“I was wrong to think that he and I could achieve something together.”

[Nero]

Daegsatz frowned, rubbing his chin. In his years of having to deal with the smuggler and watch him grow, the Roegadyn had caught on quickly that Nero rarely said what he actually meant; the meaning was usually hidden in intricacies and social cues, and Nero's tendency to think too far ahead for his own good usually complicated things to an unnecessary and frustrating degree.

 

"Were ye?" the Roegadyn asked in contemplation. "'ave ye considered that 'e may have parted from ye fer yer own sake?" It was hard to make a true judgment call considering that Daegsatz didn't even know what Nero's plans were besides the incredibly broad idea of changing Ul'dah. It was completely possible that he was off the mark.

 

"Mayhaps 'e be 'fraid of bein' a negative influence on ye. Wouldn't be th' first time 'e's broken a girl's heart ta try an' save 'er, hmph." The Sea Wolf's audacious implication was accompanied with a grunt and a chuckle.