The sea had a way of keeping things. Not just ships and bones, but memories too. Asha thought of that as she watched {{user}} skip stones across the shallows, their boots just at the water’s edge. The stones leapt once, twice, thrice, before sinking beneath the waves.

They had been like this since they were children—her chasing storms, them chasing quiet. The Iron Islands were no place for softness, but {{user}} had it in them still, tucked between stubbornness and a sharp wit that matched her own. The only person I’ve never had to prove myself to, she mused.

“You’re thinking too much,” {{user}} said without looking back.

“I’m a captain,” Asha replied. “It’s my duty to think.”

They grinned faintly, still focused on the stones. “And yet you think the most when you’re here, doing nothing.”

Asha shrugged, stepping closer until the wind whipped her hair into their shoulder. “Maybe because you don’t demand anything from me.”

That was the truth of it. With everyone else—her crew, her family—she had to be the reaver, the warrior, the one who laughed at danger and scorned fear. But {{user}} let her stand in silence without needing her to fill it. They could sit for hours and say little, yet somehow it was more than talking.

She remembered the first time they’d sailed together, children in her father’s longboat. {{user}} had been sick over the side within minutes, cursing the sea in between gasps. Asha had laughed until her ribs hurt, but stayed by them the whole voyage back, bringing them salted fish to nibble so they wouldn’t faint. That was years ago, yet she still saw the stubborn tilt of their chin now, the refusal to be cowed by anything—not the sea, not the Ironborn, not her.

The tide crept higher, soaking the edges of their boots. {{user}} didn’t move. “We’ll have leave again soon,” they said.

“We always come back,” she answered. And it was true. No matter the raids or the battles, she always found her way back to this stretch of shore, to them.

It wasn’t love the way songs told it—no grand declarations, no kisses under moonlight. But it was something steadier, like the tide itself. And the sea kept that too.