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From his first second aboard the Inevitable, Jacob's never saw a lack of people. The high seas was great and vast and seemed to stretch on for years and another man could call it lonely, but that man wasn't ever Jacob. The crew went in and the crew went out, the door always swinging with the entrance and exit, be it in casket or at the next port (leaving Jacob always wary of forming a bond with anyone short of Sarah or Captain Crow), but there were always people.
If ever there was one of them people that Jacob Holland could say he loved, it could only ( anymore, he'd think somberly, with a tightness in his chest and a prick in his eyes that he couldn't bring himself to name) be Maisie Brumble.
She was a ball of energy and a gallon of smile, unfettered enthusiasm and wit that could swallow the world whole if she wanted it to. No one could ever scare him or hurt him or fill him with sheer pride like the lass; he couldn't fathom how someone so small could grab such a tight hold of his heart in so little time. It was going on a year now - a year in their little home by the sea with the rope swing off a tree limb that he'd tied himself and a reading nook for when the kid demanded a story before he could even think of shuffling her off to bed and a real, really nice bed , which was at first too soft, but soon learned him why his shoulders always felt stiff on his old cot back on the ship - and her grip on his heart hadn't loosened a bit. In fact, it seemed tighter now than ever it was; a year ago they'd arrived to the countryside a freshly retired hunter and a stowaway who'd upended his life for the better, while today when he watched the kid chase her abomination of a pet across the yard, she was his daughter, as much so as if she were his blood . Which, again, scared him like nothin' ever did, but if… if the man who raised him could ever be believed, he supposed that fear was something that no parent were a stranger to. And it was well made up for the first time she called him 'da'.
(He may have shed a tear or two… or several. There were several tears.)
At day's end, he had his home and his troublesome lass and weren't nothin' on land or sea that could ruin this slice of heaven for him. If ever there was one of them people that Jacob Holland could say he loved, it could only be-
Knock, Knock knock,
one evening, knuckle on wood like a thunderclap. Jacob looked up from the book in his hand and the child in his lap, a frown creasing his brow. Maisie looked up too, on her feet like a shot in seconds. Before she could race to the door, he grabbed her wrist.
"Uh-uh, kid," he said sternly. "Bedroom until I say it's safe. Have your knife just in case." She looked like she wanted to protest, but unsheathed her dagger with a sigh and headed for her bedroom.
"Don't die," she said with a flourish of her blade. Her door clicked shut. He huffed a small laugh.
"Promise," he called back, mostly for his amusement.
Knock knock. Knockknockknock.
Ah, right.
He pulled himself from the pillow and blanket nest of the reading nook, grabbing a knife off of a nearby table where he had been sharpening it that day. Taking a deep breath, he slunk over to the door and slowly unlatched it, pulling it open tentatively with the knife out of sight.
An old man, scarcely recognizable in civvies, stood at the door. His worn hat was clasped in his hands at his chest, equally weathered and calloused fingers fiddling with the brim. One sorrowful eye met his own, and it took the wind right out of Jacob's lungs.
"Jacob," said Crow, hardly a Captain anymore. Jacob's words dried up in his throat, his mouth hanging open like a codfish.
"How- you're…" Jacob floundered for anything to say. Crow huffed a hint of a laugh.
"Don't tie your tongue in knots, me boy, I 'spect you'll be needing that for ta rake me over the coals." Jacob looked unimpressed, or at the very least he tried awful hard to look unimpressed. From the fall of Crow's small smile, it seemed to work.
"How did you find us? Me, I mean. How did you find me, alone , in my house?"
Crow batted a hand.
"Oh, come off it, Jacob, you've always been a dreadful liar. I know ye be hiding that vinegar lass in there too." Jacob's grip on the knife tightened.
"And- and I don't come here meanin' her no harm," Crow said, calloused hands coming up in surrender.
"Then why ," Jacob asked through gritted teeth, "are you here?"
Crow's eye softened, seeming to look Jacob up and down before coming back to meet his gaze. Jacob self consciously rubbed the back of his neck where his hair had grown long enough to be tied back with a ribbon that Maisie loved doing in a little bow every morning he let her.
"I…" the old man said, trailing off with the most uncertain look Jacob had ever seen on him. "I wanted to… to apologize, lad."
Jacob raised his eyebrows.
"You- what?"
" Apologize, Jacob. I'm…" His voice got soft. "I'm sorry, son. Sorry for everythin' I caused you and your girl. My head wasn't on right and it caused a lot of pain for any'ne in the crossfire, most of all yourself and your kid. I'm so sorry, Jacob." Crow looked close to tears, which Jacob, on principle, couldn't fathom, but there he was. The most feared and respected and beloved grizzled old hunter the world had ever known, crying on Jacob's doorstep, apology in hand. His head was… it was just spinning. Jacob grabbed ahold of the door frame with his free hand, at a loss.
"Why… why now?" he mumbled, unable to meet Crow's eye. He heard a long sigh.
"At first I was just too… lost , I s'pose. You have ta understand, Jacob; from the second I could crawl, I was raised to hunt. That's me whole life upside down, son."
"It was mine too," Jacob countered, fighting to keep the anger out of his voice. "I might not have been born on that ship, but it was everything I knew. I was in Maisie's blasted books right with you; I know how it felt."
"I know, I know," Crow placated. "I know I ought ta have listened to 'er, but you were always more of a listener than I was, Jacob. I couldn't see past the deadlight the Bluster stole from me and I'll be payin' for it me whole life."
Jacob sighed, offering the smallest hint of a smile. "Eh, don't give me too much credit. It took longer than it should've for me to hear her too."
Crow returned the smile for a few seconds before it fell with a sigh.
"When I worked out what a fool I'd been, I… I'm ashamed to say, I spent the next stretch so slobbering drunk, I couldn't tell ye what I'd devoted me life to. If not for Sarah finding me and forcing me sober a few months back, I'd still be in that hovel, if not already in the ground, and that's God's honest."
"Sarah helped you out of it?" Jacob asked, secretly never having been more relieved that Crow's first mate was the toughest and most stubborn bastard of a woman man ever saw. Crow barked a laugh.
"'Helped' suggests she gave me a choice- she dumped a bucket o' water on me head and dragged my drunk ass to 'er house. Said if I spewed on 'er floor she'd drop me in hell 'erself, bless 'er." Jacob laughed.
"That sounds right."
"When I was finally on me feet again, I started asking around for where you'd ended up. I tell ya, boyo, you really know how to make yourself scarce. Couldn't find a soul for months who even knew if ye were alive. By the way, Sarah says if she don't start seein' that lassie more often, she'll hunt ya down and steal 'er away." Jacob huffed a laugh.
"I s'pose it's been… awhile since we've been out."
"Finally found Ms. Merino who pointed me this way. Said she found ye by sheer luck when her fancy new trading vessel spit 'er out in a storm?"
Jacob shook his head fondly.
"Strangest visit from a friend you ever saw. I swear the woman has never known mortality."
"And I'd swear right along with ya," Crow chuckled.
There was a beat of silence where they just looked at each other, Crow's eye all full of pride and Jacob's eyes all hesitant hope.
"Kid," Crow said finally. "Jacob, I… I di'n't stop bein' fond of ya when it all went to hell, no matter what I wished otherwise. I've wanted to apologize since the second you were out o' me sight, I just-" He sighed, squeezing the hat in his hands in frustration. "I… still think you as my son, Jacob. And you ain't gotta feel the same neither. But… but I had to make sure I-"
Jacob wasted no time crashing into Crow with a hug. The old man froze for a second, arms aloft in surprise, before reciprocating. Jacob's fingers clung to the back of Crow's jacket, his whole body shaking against his wishes. He'd spent the whole year just so angry at this man, the man who had raised him and called him a son, but had cast him aside, actually fought him, the second Jacob asked him to think for himself. He knew, deep down he knew it was more complicated than that, but time could heal all wounds or add to their festering, and there hadn't a day gone by that Jacob wasn't struck by how much he hated him for it, for everything. He was ashamed to say that Maisie had woken up to his crying more than a few times. But this… this was better than he could ever have hoped. Crow rubbed his back like he had when Jacob was sick as a child while he cried (when had he started crying?).
" My boy, that's my boy…" he murmured.
"Thank you," Jacob whispered. "For coming back."
There was a second of silence where it sounded like Crow wouldn't reply before he said, "I had ta make it right with me son. I'd have died of shame if I didn't."
There was a click of a door opening from in the house.
"Jacob, it's been soooo long ," Maisie whined. Jacob ripped himself from the hug, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.
"Mais, I told you to wait until I said it was safe!" he reprimanded. She groaned dramatically.
"Aye, I know, but you wouldn't be talkin' this long if it weren't safe, and I'm booooored ." Jacob let out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Hey, wait- Jacob, have you been cryin'?' Her eyes narrowed as they locked on Crow. "Did you make me da cry?" She raised her knife.
"Whoa, whoa!" Jacob put up his hands placatingly, walking over to kneel in front of her. "It's okay, everyone's okay. No one is stabbing anyone - good form, though, lass," he said with a proud smile. She grinned back.
"So… Captain Crow is fine? He ain't here to…" Her hand came to her throat. " Do anythin'?"
"We're all safe," Jacob said calmly.
"I promise, I di'n't come here to do you or your da any harm," Crow assured her.
Maisie frowned, walking over to look directly up at Crow, arms crossed.
"Why're you here then?"
"To ask your forgiveness, lass," he said plainly. She looked up at Jacob, who had joined her with a hand on her shoulder. He nodded. "I weren't prepared for the truth, even as it was happenin' in front of me. I understand now, and I'm dreadful ashamed o' how I acted." Maisie's eyes widened.
"You really mean it?" Crow nodded with a smile.
"On my honor as…" He hesitated. "Well, as a tired ol' man tryin' ta do better," he said. Maisie grinned.
"I accept your apology," she said. "On one condition ."
He raised an amused eyebrow.
"And what might that be, lass?" She got a mischievous look in her eyes.
"I get ta call you grampa." Jacob snorted, dragging his hand down his face as Crow burst with laughter.
"I said I liked this one, di'n't I? A'right, lass, I s'pose I'll be your gramps, if you're twisting my arm." He scooped her up and put her on one broad shoulder where she fit like an ant on a boulder. She giggled all the way, smiling like the sun. Jacob watched her with a grin that glowed almost as bright, a far cry from the workshopped and sanitized thing he'd once used to charm many a young villager. He looked like a clumsy fool, like an unabashedly proud father, and he wore it well.
If ever there was any of them people that Jacob Holland could say he loved, it was these two, his grizzled father and his troublesome girl.