Eden resigned herself to her circumstances; she wasn’t leaving tonight. The sun had set and Atlas hadn’t so much as twitched. The hand that had earlier held her was still draped off the bed. That indicated his sleep was still at its deepest point, even nearly twelve hours later.

It was at this point with the moon so high that the handle finally jiggled and the door cracked open an inch. It was enough that the china cups tipped, falling to the marble floor with a satisfying amount of noise – the top cup shattering.

Eden immediately pushed herself up from the window and glided to the bed, settling herself on the end and neatly crossing her ankles together.

After a bit of shuffling beyond the door, and a bit of incoherent whispers, it was pushed open wider. She immediately counted two men, their bulk filling the gap of the door way, but listened to make sure the noise from their steps matched the number of individuals present. She did not hear a third set, and considered herself lucky.

They obviously saw her and likely Atlas too, because they slunk further into the room, eyeing its contents.

Eden remained unthreateningly neutral. They didn’t know who she was. If they were from the shipyard – and judging by those muscles they must have been – then their comrades memories had been effectively wiped by the mangradora. These men were coming in blind.

And in this case, her gender and lack of ominous cloak gave her a very unassuming edge.

“Hello,” she said calmly. “Can I help you?”

Both of their nondescript faces pulled into predatory grins, their eyes shining with perverted humour. They looked at one another, and then back to her. She tilted her head, spurring on their disgusting thoughts with a little show of naivety.

“A little less leg on this one than usual,” the one closer to her joked, lightly backhanding his friend on the chest.

“But a little more stamina apparently,” the other replied. “What, he making you fend for yourself, sugar? Ain’t no girl usually awake this time of night.”

“Yeah he’s pretty out of it,” Eden said, looking over her shoulder at the king’s sleeping form. “Truthfully I’ve been waiting for someone like you to show up… to help relieve the boredom.”

“Have you now?” the one in the back cooed suggestively, his bushy eyebrows rising. He seemed to be more susceptible to sexual suggestion and to her, so she decided to go for him first. When she lifted herself to her feet, she saw the way his eyes hungrily slid down her body. The red silken robe covered most of her scars, but it was so dark in the room that they likely couldn’t make them out anyway – especially how the ones on her face mixed in with her freckles.

“We’ll help you with yer business,” he said thickly. “Just as soon as we finish ours.” He jerked his head to the one in front, indicating for him to go to Atlas.

Eden felt the adrenaline rush as the moment warped into a scenario where she only had a few precious seconds. She passed the first man as he went towards Atlas. She reached out almost eagerly, appearing to be desperate for his partner to have his way with her.

When really, she was manipulating the sudden time constraint. Yes she was eager, but it was the wrong kind of eager… for them.

Knowing that the first man would likely turn around at the first suspicious noise, she kicked at one of the scattered tea cups on the way to his comrades arms, and sent it tinkling away. As suspected, the man heading to Atlas turned around for a moment to check.

“Oops,” she laughed quietly. “Sorry.”

He turned away.

She made contact with his companion, letting out a sound in the form of an unnatural giggle to further bolster the background noise. Her hand landed on his shoulder. The next deliberate contact was her knee driving brutally up into his groin. He bent in on himself with eyes bulging, spittle flying, cries failing. She turned her torso aside to avoid getting head butted by his body’s inevitable reaction. Then she brought the same knee up again, smashing it into his lowered face.

His head snapped back, jolting the nerves in his neck. She caught him as he slumped to the floor, unconscious.

Blows to the body were relatively quiet, and she knew that her strike to the man’s groin had left him feeling more like he wanted to vomit than scream. Luckily, the initial clattering of the tea cup and her laughter worked its magic. The first man did not turn around.

She crept up on him just as he was about to draw a knife from his waist. Not wanting that to see fruition, she snaked one arm around his throat and drew the back of his head into her waiting palm, pressing his throat securely into the crook of her arm in order to restrict the blood flow. She thought a little bit about nuts while he flailed helplessly. Choke-holds always made her think about cracking nuts.

It took very little time for him to begin to slump, but his desperation forced him to go back to his knife. She sank down with him as he weakened, positioning her thigh against the blade so that he couldn’t get to it. He clawed at her leg for just a few seconds, and then his body went slack.

She tied them up and gagged them, using the knife to cut some strips from one of the sheets in the next room over. It had a closet so she shoved them in, bound the door with more cloth, and then managed to maneuver the dresser in front for extra security.

When she was done she went back to Atlas’s room and stacked the remaining tea cups up behind the door once again. Then she headed over to the nook, twirling the knife between her fingers and whistling a deranged little tune.

******

Atlas finally stirred in the late morning, breaking her from the meditation she used in order to rest. She gave him a bit more time to get his bearings, and eventually he flipped himself over to look out the window, squinting against the light.

Eden rose from the sill.  “Hey. How do you feel?”

Atlas smiled, and just the tug of his lips was informative. “Good,” he said hoarsely. “I feel… really good.”

He pushed himself to sit up as she came to the edge of the bed.

“You’re still here,” he said, sounding surprised. “I thought for sure I’d have to hunt you down.”

"Now who's being overdramatic," she replied.

He laughed and scraped at his face with his hand. “How long have I been out?”

“Almost a full day and night.”

“Were there any… complications?”

She shook her head. “Nope.”

“Hn,” he mumbled, brows furrowing, eyes falling to the blanket. “That’s strange.” He shrugged and tossed them off, placing his feet on the floor and standing up. The way he straightened had Eden believing him when he said he felt better. His posture was taller, less weight on the shoulders, more balance in the legs.

But his body mass still had a long way to go. Eden swung around the bed to him, analytically scanning him over.

“How tall are you?” she asked, touching her chin. “And how old?”

“I’m a little over six feet... and twenty-two years. And you?”

“Hah, nice try,” she said, smirking and fiddling her fingers against her lips as she thought. “You’re severely underweight, and your body has rotted. I’m sure your magic will help you to recover much faster than a normal person, but you could help it by visiting the steam baths. Brontide knows what toxins you have floating around in there.” She waved at him. “By the way,” she pointed behind her to the table with the wine, “those are toxic in large amounts. I suggest you abstain.”

Of all the things she expect him to protest about, this was not it. “I need it sometimes. It helps…” he trailed off, unable to say the word.

“Numb you?” Eden guessed. He nodded grimly.

“I get that,” she said, a bit too softly to her own ears, “but sometimes you sink and sometimes you swim. Right now I need you to swim.”

Atlas looked at her for a long moment before asking, “Do you know how to sink?”

“What?” she asked, taken aback.

“Do you know how to sink?” he repeated, stronger. “Do you ever let yourself?”

Momentarily, she was speechless; caught in that dangerous position where she simultaneously thought about her brother and tried to flinch away from it. Her mouth was not working.

Atlas must have noticed her weakness, because he spoke in a hurry. “I only ask because you don't strike me as someone who ever sinks. You swim… all the time.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” she managed to respond, a bit tersely. The king moved past her, and she twisted to keep him in sight, her guard up.

“Maybe not but… it has to be exhausting.”

Eden set him with a glare as he picked up his shirt and threw it on. “This is getting a bit personal, don’t you think?”

Something about that made him smile, and it was surprisingly charming. “Well, that was my intent.”

“I see,” she replied. The tension in her chest lessened and she instead found herself fighting off a small laugh. When she got a hold on her stupidity she offered a more serious response. “Don’t hold your breath.”

“Why? It’s my choice.”

“Fine, hold it then. You’ll be holding it for a while.”

Atlas came to stand in front of her, seeming to take her words as challenge. Eden crossed her arms and stared up into his face, noting how bright his eyes were in contrast to before. It was like he was suddenly amongst the living again.

“Well, Freckles, if there is one thing you should know about us sinkers… it’s that we can hold our breath for a very long time.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Eden said. She didn’t miss the heaviness of what he was implying. “And I don’t mean to launch my defense prematurely but we have a lot of other things to do and discuss. Getting personal isn’t one of them. For example, well, I’ll just show you.”

They went to the next room over. Though confused, Atlas helped her move the dresser away from the closet doors. She unwrapped the cloth from the handles and flung the doors open. The intruders slumped out, groaning. It looked a lot messier in the light of day.

Atlas barely reacted. She supposed there wasn’t a lot that surprised him anymore. Maybe that’s why he took such an interest in her.

“You said there weren’t any complications,” he murmured, his gaze slanting her way.

“There weren’t.”

He gestured between the two men rapidly. “Wasn’t this complicated?”

Eden tilted her head, blinking owlishly. “Complicated how?”

Grey-green eyes bore into her, like he was waiting for more. It really hadn’t been much of an issue though, so she didn’t understand what it was he wanted her to say.

“So that’s the first thing,” Eden ploughed on, knocking one finger down as she counted. “Next, I’d like my cloak back, and I want you to show me the gardens and what you have stored there. You also said you would show me where these men came from. I also insist that you take my advice concerning the steam bath—”

“This is turning into quite the agenda,” Atlas commented lightly. “We should probably eat first.”

“Brontide! Are you serious?” Eden moaned, crouching to the floor. It wasn’t to sit. It was simply her succumbing to the injustice of the mission. “I’m never going to get out of here. I see the cycle now.”

“I mean, we could just skip it,” Atlas offered. She was sure there was light teasing there.

“No,” she lamented, rubbing roughly at her eyes. “Hunger is the enemy.”

“We have quite the number of enemies, don't we?” He held a hand down to her, not seeming at all disappointed. “Guess you’ll have to stay for now.”

Eden sighed up at him. Thetan was going to have her head when she returned, and that sent the pit of her stomach into a nervous, writhing mess. What would one more day change? Not much.

Conceding to that point, she hesitantly slipped her hand into his, and as he pulled her fluidly to her feet, the fear was briefly forgotten.