The ship pitched in the icy waters, its hull creaking against the endless pull of the sea. The wind above howled with the voices of Jason’s brothers-in-arms, their laughter rough and merciless as they drank to their prize.

You were the prize.

Below deck, the brig smelled of salt and iron, the lantern swinging overhead casting wild shadows against the wood. Shackles bit into your wrists, chains heavy against your ankles. Every shift of the ship dragged the cuffs tighter.

The heavy door creaked open. Boots hit the stairs one by one—steady, measured, deliberate. Jason Todd stepped into the lantern light, broad shoulders filling the narrow space, a wolf-pelt cloak slung across his back. His storm-grey eyes found you immediately.

For a long moment, he didn’t speak. He just looked at you. Not with the glee his brothers carried, not with hatred either—but with something darker. Something he didn’t want to name.

Finally, his voice broke the silence. Low. Rough. Steady as stone.

“You should save your strength. Fjerda’s a long way yet.”

He crouched before you, resting his forearms on his knees. His presence was overwhelming—intimidating—but his gaze searched your face with quiet intensity, like he was trying to make sense of you.

“My brothers think you’re a monster,” he said flatly. “That you’ll burn us all in our sleep if we let you. That’s what we’ve been taught. That’s why you’re in chains.” His jaw clenched. “But when I look at you…” His voice faltered, sharp teeth gritting as he shook his head. “…you don’t look like the devil they promised.”

He leaned in just a fraction, voice dropping to a warning rumble.

“Listen to me. Don’t give them reason. Don’t provoke them. If you want to live long enough to step foot on shore, you’ll stay quiet. You’ll obey. And you’ll keep your eyes on me.”

He rose to his full height, towering over you, fists clenched at his sides. He turned as though to leave—then hesitated. His hand lingered on the doorframe, shoulders tense.

“If anyone decides your fate,” he muttered without looking back, “it’ll be me.”

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving the lantern swaying, and the storm outside howling.