[Aynia]

Aynia stared down at the map. What they suggested made sense, and would make for the most appropriate course of action. The corner of her mouth turned up a bit in a small smile. She didn't miss the intonation in the Admiral's voice. She had a soft spot for those that struck their own way, and she could imagine having to bend the knee, so to speak, to someone else when you've been perpetually self sufficient would be more than mildly irritating. She was glad at the turnout for the council, however, and glad that the Admiral and the Bosun were here. She feared that she may injure the Admiral's pride with too much appreciation however, so she quickly schooled her face back into something more serious and raised her eyes to meet the Admiral's.

"You make sense, and I am more than agreeable to the suggestions." She took a sip of wine and locked eyes with the eye on the Admirals chest plate for a moment before looking away out of politeness. "As many of your ships that are most capable for the journey and that you're able to spare would be my request. Scouting reports are still coming in, and we know that sightings and attacks are beginning to spread. The farther they get the less control we have." She paused for a moment. "As for how long, I suppose it will be as long as it takes to save our skins. If we can drive them back early on, we'll all be much better off for it."

[The Bloody Bay Fleet]

Whether the Admiral noticed the air of appreciation the Queen was giving him, he showed no sign. He maintained his own air of stoic arrogance with his eldritch gaze. The Queen was apt in sensing his irritation of having to "bend the knee" to a power that seemed so detached from his own domain. He appreciated the freedom such recognition brought him, but was he much free now than before? The question was always at the back of his mind, and perhaps readable in his gaze to the Queen.

"My queen, our full navy shall be set to the task," MacDonnaugh said, becoming the Admiral's voice. "All seventy five shall patrol the coastal wastes for as long as you require us to. I would care to mention that shore leave would be appreciated if our deployment lasted more than a few months if that is amenable to you."

The Admiral spoke once more, though his voice was soft, almost dangerously so. "I can press more ships into service, though our navy is almost double the Crown's size. Could those alone suffice, with the support of your ships as well?"

[Aynia]

"I couldn't ask for you to deplete yourselves, only what you can reasonably spare at the moment. I believe that with combined strength we'll have good control over the seas and coasts." She paused for a moment to look at the map. "As for shore leave, those arrangements I would best leave to yourselves. You know what is good for your crews and I'm sure you know what you're doing." She cracked a small smile.

Ever the lady and plagued with good conscience, she spoke her thoughts. "I appreciate your service, and your willingness to offer aid. If I may be forward, I know that the fleet is made of proud and independent people." She looked at the Bosun before turning to the Admiral. "I hold respect for that. I have hope that our cooperation can continue and our friendships may flourish." She raised her glass a bit before taking a sip.

[The Bloody Bay Fleet]

"My Queen, we are a rather... well armed holdfast. Our merchant crew need no escort, and our ships are no longer... pursuing pursuing old habits." The Bosun said, trying to very delicately remind their benevolent queen of the Fleet's past. Not that a reminder was needed, of course, all of the Fleetmen and women wore their past almost literally on their sleeve, and the two men before her were no different.

"We can easily spare the rest of our, shall we say, proper navy to join in this effort. And may I thank you for leaving matters in our hand."

The Bosun bowed his head as the Queen regarded him, and when she turned to the Admiral, have the eldritch sidhé a set of complex gestures, and a facial expression that could be easily read as calm down you bastard, and don't screw this up for us.

The Admiral raises his own glass, "long may our friendship last, on weal and woe, under ominous skies, and over the hungry depths."

[Aynia]

Aynia beamed a genuine smile at his words. She opened her mouth to speak and there was a knock on the door. Her valet answered at her nod. Everyone knew that this was an important meeting. They would not bother her with trivial matters. After brief whispering back and forth, the valet appeared at the Queen's side.

"Your party for Chail is ready, my lady." The woman looked nervous to interrupt, but she knew how important the journey was to her Queen. Aynia sat her drink down and clapped her hands together, holding them in front of her as she spoke. "Bosun, Admiral." She gave a bow of her head at each. "Is there anything that you need from me? I am afraid that I must cut our meeting short, as I am needed in Chail as soon as possible."

After exchanging pleasant goodbyes the Queen left the room leaving the men alone together.

[The Bloody Bay Fleet]

The Bosun's shoulders sagged in relief as the pair are left alone in the room. "Well, we still have our heads, no thanks to you."

The Admiral bristled a little, "what do you mean?! I was simply trying to play hard to get, like you said." The Bosun sighed loudly, "I didn't mean to demean the Royal Navy! Uhhhh. No, we're not doing this, not after our victory. Aelfric, you were splendid as always." There was that same cheeky grin on Parcival's face as he took the empty wine glass from Aelfric's hand and placed it on the tray.

"Why, thank you, Parcival. I certainly thought so." The same smile was Mirrored on Aelfric's face as they shared a private moment. "Now, let us away. If I know Mackay, he's already started supper without us." Parcival gave out a quiet laugh. "Then we'd better hurry, that faun could eat the larders empty if he tried!" The pair of them left the room, rejoining with the entourage and slowly making their way to the docks, where a child led them to one of the worst taverns they had seen, but shanties of the Fleet rang out from it as though all were in high spirits.

Drinks were drunk, and a modest feast was had in the rough tavern. The landlord was paid well for their hospitality, and all rested well that night, all save one.

In the shadows of the night, a prisoner's throat is slit. A labourer chokes on their dinner and passes on at the table. And finally, a poor conscript was found deserting on the way to Drochaid Bront, and shot in the back by a crossbow. Those who were responsible for reporting these events were greeted by a sack of coin, and their papers found their way to a man dressed in a red coat and bicorn, whistling a shanty to himself.

The Bosun stood at the pier with the papers crumpled in his fist, looking out over the wine-dark sea with a wistful look in his eye. He opened his fist over the water, and his eyes glowed red as he spoke a single word into the night. A black shadow darker than night consumed the reports, and the sound of gnashing teeth could be heard. When the shadow disappeared, the papers were nought but shreds.

When the sun rose the next day, the Fleet's crew rose as well, jolly and jaunty, and returned to their ships. Albatrosses were sent with missives to other ships, and just as swiftly as they had arrived, the Fleet disembarked for their duties. The siege of the coastal wastes soon began.