{Warning: For those of you who've read LRLB, my other webnovel, you'll know that sometimes these chapters can get a bit unhinged. This is one of those chapters, but the bit is when I'm nearing the end. If you don't think you can take a suggestive scene, skip it. With that out of the way, enjoy!}
- - -
The party stared at Grango as if he'd just grown a second head for suggesting they send their goblin prisoner across to a burning imperial airship.
Grango held up his hands, laughing. "No, seriously! Look- Derrick's been behaving lately. He hasn't tried to bite or fight me at all ever since we've captured him, and he genuinely tries his best to do the right thing. I even saw him help in the kitchen the other day. He was quite good at cooking, too. Why not let him prove himself? It's exhausting keeping him under guard all the time, and honestly, I felt a little bad watching him eat rations in the corner while we had a hot meal last night." He shrugged. "We could use an extra pair of hands, and who knows- he might find something valuable on board."
Amon frowned. "I… question the ethics of sending a living, sentient being onto a flaming wreck."
Grango tilted his head. "Sure, but the ship's not engulfed. It's mostly stable, and the fire's down in the lower decks. The upper structure should hold for a while. Besides, it's an imperial ship- probably full of stuff worth salvaging. Better we get to it than leave it to burn."
He glanced around at the party, all of whom were giving him a mix of skepticism, alarm, and a look that roughly translated to: Grango, my brother in life, are you clinically insane?
He sighed. "Okay, okay. But how about this- let's ask Derrick. No pressure. If he agrees, great. If not, no harm done. Fair?"
There was a pause. Aralynn raised her hand first. "...I'm in agreement. I still don't care much for a goblin that ambushed us, but if he's really changed, I believe everyone deserves a second chance."
Grango turned to the others.
Perona slowly raised her hand. Amon followed with a resigned sigh. Hadarai lifted his hand last, reluctantly.
Like Grango said, the fire was still mostly contained. As long as Derrick stayed clear of the lower decks, the risk was manageable.
Grango unlocked the storage room, unfastened Derrick's restraints, and explained the situation.
As Perona looped and adjusted the same tether Aralynn had used the day before, she gave Derrick a once-over. "Are you sure about this?"
Derrick wriggled the tether more comfortably over his shoulders and flexed his wiry arms. "Yes," he said. "Derrick wants to help. No more prisoner. Derrick wants to be… servant. Derrick sorry for attacking frog and friends."
Perona tightened the last loop and gave him an uncertain nod. "Alright… good luck, Derrick." She offered a thumbs-up. Derrick returned it with a toothy grin, flexed his fingers, and scampered off across the gangplank toward the smoking vessel.
"Okay," Derrick said to himself. "Let's see what Derrick's hands can catch.[1]"
- - -
Derrick returned a short while later, coughing and hacking, his face blackened with soot and smoke. Amon quickly grabbed a cloth, wet it with water from his canteen, and started wiping Derrick down.
With a few more deep breaths and wheezes, Derrick recovered and proudly held up a heavy sack before dropping it at their feet.
Hadarai stared at the sack. He paused, then knelt down beside Derrick. "Grango said you've been trying to turn over a new leaf, Derrick. Are you sure you want to come with us? We'll do our best to feed you, clothe you, and keep you safe- but it might be better for you if we dropped you off somewhere you could rejoin your people. Think carefully"
Derrick shook his head firmly. He gestured at the party and spoke slowly, his Common Tongue halting and thick with accent. It was heart-warming, almost, as even though it was difficult, he did his best to express himself.
"Adventurers… were kind. Ropes hurt, yes. But no beating. No kicking. Adventurers gave Derrick food. Let Derrick talk. If Derrick goes back, will be punished for failing hunt. But here… fun. Derrick likes being with adventurers. Very." He tried to articulate his words, the language still relatively foreign to him as he made by with bits and scraps of phrases he had heard.
Aralynn narrowed her eyes.
[Comprehension Lv. 4 has been activated!]
[Comprehension has found that Derrick the Ever Faithful is telling the truth.]
…Well, isn't that surprising. Aralynn stood. "He's telling the truth." Aralynn breathed out softly before turning away and heading back to the quarterdeck. "I'm tired. I'll be in my room if you need me."
She thought back to the inspector that she was about to kill, now tied up on the main mast. "Sorry again for earlier, Hadarai- and nice to properly talk to you, Derrick. I look forward to our journey together."
Aralynn stalked off, closing the door of the quarterdeck behind her. Leaning against the door, she breathed heavily. I let my temper get the best of me. I can't allow that to happen again, she thought. Aralynn composed herself, walking to her room.
Remarkably, she was clear of sweat and aside from the droplets of blood on her, she didn't look like she'd been in battle at all. She was just about to enter her room when Cozith and Celran burst out into the hall.
"Ms. Aralynn!" Cozith shouted. "What was that? Did I hear cannons? Are we going down? And why is the cargo hold open???"
Aralynn looked at them with flat eyes. She laughed tiredly. "Go up onto the main deck. Perona can explain everything. You missed a heck lot, let's just say that. I'm tired, so… I need to rest." She opened the door.
"Wait- Ms. Aralynn, are you hurt?" Cozith registered the still damp and crimson droplets on Aralynn's lace-up shirt.
"Oh." Aralynn looked down at herself. "Don't worry, it isn't mine." She smiled.
Aralynn left Cozith and Celran in the hall, locking the door to her tiny room behind her and crashing on the bed. She stretched and sighed.
It's been a while since I've had a proper fight- I must be washed, she thought. That wasn't the main reason that she felt so tired, however. I… don't want to think about it again.
She rested on the bed for a few more deliberate moments before setting her rapier, revolver, Objection, and cloak aside in the cabinet.
She lay there for a moment.
Then, gradually, a strange feeling tugged at Aralynn. Her heart was pounding- that was to be expected, since she was just in battle. But this felt different, somehow. It's too damn hot. She tugged the laces open on her shirt, exposing her slender neckbones and her pale, smooth skin to the cool air.
The feeling kept rising in her chest and through her body. What is this? Aralynn tugged her shirt open, the sides of the white fabric slipping to reveal her sylphlike shoulders. Her wings spread on either side of her. It's still too warm, I-.
Her heart pounded as it threatened to burst. Her lips parted slightly as she breathed heavily and a light sweat rolled down her chest. Aralynn buried herself underneath her sheets, her face and chest burning with a new sensation that she'd never felt before. What's happening?
[1] (In case you don't get it, the reference here is to the common phrase of 'loot goblin')