"Scourge of the Seas..." - Piratetalia

The moment of silence that settled in between them was crushingly deafening. Gilbert's eyes glimmered his hope, and when Lukas gave his witty response, everything froze. Someone else had survived. Someone else had survived. He was so thrilled as a ball of hope flickered in his chest, swelling and nearly quadrupling in size, causing a few tears of joy to prick up in the corners of his eyes. Instantly, he lurched forward when the other drew closer and leaned down, pulling Lukas into the tightest embrace his frail, pale arms could handle. He didn't give a damn about the pain that enveloped his bruised and scraped shoulder as the Norwegian's warmth pressed against his bare chest. Lukas was alive. And that's all that mattered.

Gilbert dismissed what the other said about Ivan's cruelty, shaking his head as he pulled away from the embrace. Although, a cheeky grin spread across his face when Lukas spoke of other crew members being aboard the ship, "Really?" He breathed, eyes wide with hope and ambition gleaming in his previously dim, ruby irises, "I-I know Ludwig didn't survive the seige..." Gilbert spoke, voice faltering and breaking halfway through. However, he quickly regained his composure and continued, "But what about Berwald, Matthias, and Tino?" He asked hopefully, "What about Emil? Your brother? Did they survive?"

The albino knew this discovery of a fellow crew member wasn't going to save him. They were miles out at sea heading Gods-know-where, and a mutiny would be highly unlikely against the numbers Ivan held. But Gods damn was it good to see a familiar face after so long.

The wooden dinner tray's edges were beginning to leave imprints on her fingers and hands, for she clutched it so tight with a harboring fear that the Russian captain would reappear at any moment and deliver her the punishment she deserved.

But he didn't, and she managed to scurry back to the kitchens without further incidents, other than a few confused looks from crewman at her terrified expression. Her bare, dirt-sodden feet slapped against wood as she ran, slamming the door behind her with a bit of a rattle.

Alisia bent forward against the sinks, heaving to catch her breath. Her hands trembled. Had..had she truly stood up to Captain Braginski and lived? Truly? A fear swarmed her, a knowing that he would have a punishment awaiting her later. The thought of Braginski sent her eyes flying to the wooden dinner plate, set nearly forgotten on a table nearby. She still had to deliver him his dinner...if she didn't, he would surely harm her then. But...the image of the starving, tortured albino man had branded itself into her mind.

Captain Braginski would just have to wait on his food.

With a determined nod to herself, she grabbed the tray, and a wettened cloth and bandages for the albino's wounds, and swiftly made her way back down into the musty dungeon in which he was kept. She approached slowly, as he seemed to be conversing with the small blond man assigned to tend to him.

"Step aside," she ordered, kneeling before the battered man again and taking the wet cloth, dabbing his bleeding face and gaping cuts. "Hold still," she commanded softly, cupping his cheek with her free hand as he attempted to wince away. She was tender after, however, as she began to wrap his head with the soft white linen.

"I have a meal for you. Do not utter a word of it to Captain Braginski if you don't want to be whipped again." She pulled the tray towards his lap, removing the cloth that had covered it. "It's not much but... a small meal is better than no meal."