Sage chuckled along to her comment, nodding in agreement with a light hum as she stated it was a long while to wait. It did seem like a long time indeed. He knew it would fly by though, as they prepared for the coming child. The new member of their family. "I can't wait either," he murmured softly, sort of moving to press his hand against hers - the one resting lightly on her belly. "We'll have to come up with names, and get clothes and...whatever else we'll need," he noted in thought, cocking his head and frowning slightly, as he wasn't exactly sure what they'd need. A crib, but he'd have to bild that later, once they were back home. That sort of thing wouldn't fit on their canoe.

At her next comment though, he glanced back over at her, a smile forming on his face again as he nodded. "We'll just have to get gender neutral things," he noted woth a shrug. "Plan names for both and....go with whatever happens," he added lightly, reaching up to place an excited peck to her lips again, eyes sparkling. "I'll be more than happy with any of it," he added, wishing he could convey exactly how much this meant to him. He'd dreamed of a few things....impotant things, that had or hadn't come true. But a loving family was the one he'd most wanted, for all of his life, knowing it would never come true. And here he was, with Jora, and their baby on the way. It was coming together, and he could barely believe it all.

Sage couldn't help but smile up in response to her comment, resting his head gently against her hand. He did note the stubble though...he'd have to shave soon. A beard wasn't exactly great for a boat, so it was a habit he'd kept up over the past few years. Besides, a beard was a lot of work, and he just liked to not have hair in or on his face. Besides, it wasn't like shaving was a nuisance or too much work or anything.

"We have plenty of time to get everything ready," he noted gently. "For now, we should just focus on getting settled in," he noted lightly, kissing her back when their lips met and then moving off to sort of peer at the snacks they'd packed and make sure they had enough if they wanted to eat them later on. It was mostly for Jora, since she'd have cravings later on, and that would be hard on a ship ...but he'd definitely pick at them too.

It wasn't long after that, that things were starting to wind down as they got ready for bed. There weren't really showers or anything on board a ship, but they could still wash up a bit with a rag and such, a habit both of them knew well by then. He'd opted to shave before washing his face off, and then change afterwards, to make less of a mess. Normally he wouldn't care too much if he made a mess....but they didn't have much room, and this wasn't his ship. So he was trying to be at least a bit respectful.

Sage got ready for bed quickly, cleaning up and then washing up and changing into clothes that would be comfortable to wear to bed. It didn't take him very long to get things ready, including figuring out what time he'd have to go get their breakfast tomorrow morning and such.

When she spoke up, he glanced over at her with a smile, pulling his hair back into its normal messy bun, since no one would be walking in or anything at this time of night. There was no danger there. Besides ...it would be uncomfortable to sleep in otherwise. He wandered over to the lamp, humming softly as he blew it out and crept over to the bed, crawling over to curl up with her happily. "I think so too," he hummed, letting himself relax against her. It wouldn't be easy....but it would be good for them, he thought. "Just us," he agreed and promised after she mentioned taking things slow, without expectations or anything.

It didn't take long after that for him to slip into sleep...it had been a crazy day. An early morning, and a lot of physical work rowing here and putting everything away. A lot of mental work too, figuring out servant schedules and worrying about keeping up the act. That sort of thing. So he was exhausted. But it was in a good way, he thought.

Sage had slept well that night....the hard work from the past day had nestled him into a nice, deep sleep. It was refreshing, and there was certainly something wonderful about resting on a boat, breathing in sync with the gentle lull of the boat in response to the waves beneath them. The quiet energy filling the small cabin around them that he could feel, even asleep. All of it was just so relaxing, and peaceful. Even though their ploy was a risky one. Things could be more risky though, and they both knew it.

He was up early the next morning. He didn't like having to wake up with the sun and immedietly leave the warm bed, where Jora still lay resting to go fetch her breakfast, but that was part of the job. Well...the job he was pretending to have. He would have gotten her food anyway...it just wouldn't have been this early. But, alas...this was a servant's life, so this was what he needed to do.

He got ready quickly, replacing this hair and features with the servant's garb and style before heading out and down to the kitchen. The other servants were there, as well as some of the sailors, who managed to give him a bit of a hard time. He couldn't exactly fight back, though, so he left the kitchen with a few nice bruises, including one on his cheek bone. He'd try to hide it using his hair, so as not to worry jora...but hopefully nothing too crazy would happen if she found out. He doubted he could keep it a complete secret, especially if this sort of thing continued. He had her food though....and while he'd have to go back and see what leftovers there were for himself, he felt pretty good that he'd managed to get her a nice plate full of a pretty decent breakfast despite having to take a few punches. He'd handled worse.

Jora awoke slowly, stretching beneath the thin blanket as she let the peaceful lull of the boat’s gentle sway tug at her senses. The cabin was still filled with a soft warmth, the dim early light filtering through the small portholes. She noticed, though, something wasn’t quite right.

Sage’s side of the bed was already empty, the space where he had been nestled the night before now cold. She blinked a few times, trying to shake off the last remnants of sleep, before pushing herself upright. There was no sign of him except for the faint scent of the sea and the lingering warmth in the sheets.

He must have gone out early to fetch breakfast. She knew this was part of his charade, playing the part of a servant for their little scheme. But still, it bothered her.

The truth was, Sage didn’t belong in that role. He was too… well, himself to be anyone’s servant. There was a certain grace in the way he carried himself, even when pretending to be something he wasn’t. She’d noticed it, even in the darkest of moments. That quiet strength he had beneath the surface. Even if he didn’t always believe it.

She slid out of bed, the coolness of the wood floor beneath her bare feet grounding her. As she moved toward the small mirror, she caught sight of her reflection—a bit ruffled, hair tangled, but her mind already racing. Something didn’t sit right about this morning. It wasn’t just the absence of Sage—there was an edge to the silence that felt too thick. Too heavy. She couldn’t explain it.

But she knew something was wrong.

She changed out of her pajamas, moving swiftly but quietly, making her way up to the deck, where the crew would be milling about. The sailors always looked at her differently, as if they could tell she wasn’t like the others. She ignored them for the most part, but today, it felt like there was a weight in the air she couldn’t shake.

By the time she reached the galley, she found the noise of the kitchen far quieter than she expected. It wasn’t until she turned the corner that she saw him, standing just beyond the threshold, hands clutching a small plate of food—breakfast, she assumed. His hair hung lower than usual, concealing part of his face, and there was something about the way he was holding himself that made her stomach churn.

“Sage?” Her voice came out softer than she intended, concern threading through the single word.

There it was—a flash in his eyes that was almost too fleeting for her to catch. But she didn’t need to. She could see it clearly enough. The bruise on his cheekbone, slightly swollen, darkening by the second.

Her heart dropped.

“What happened?” she asked, crossing the space between them in two quick steps. Her fingers lightly brushed the side of his face, carefully, almost as though she were afraid the bruise would break beneath her touch.

Jora stood there for a moment, searching his face as if trying to pull the truth out of him. She hated this. He was always so damn good at hiding things—his pain, his fears, his weaknesses.

She knew, better than anyone, how far he was willing to go for the people he cared about. But this? This wasn’t something she was going to let slide.

"You might think you’re fine, but you’re not. And I’m not going to stand by and watch you take on all the weight of this plan alone."

Sage blinked at her, and for the briefest of moments, there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something soft. Something that told her, for all his strength, he wasn’t sure he was doing the right thing.

She stepped closer again, her fingers brushing the food he was holding. "Come on. Let me help," she said, her voice gentle now, understanding how much pride he had. "You don’t have to keep everything to yourself, you know. Not with me."

For the first time that morning, he met her gaze fully, his defenses slipping just a little. And in that small, quiet moment, Jora knew: she wasn’t just worried about his bruises. She was worried about the toll all this pretending would take on him.

And she wasn’t going to let him do it alone.

Sage had started to head back towards their little cabin space, walking slowly, taking the time to calm his racing heart and letting the redness around the bruise itself fade away a little bit. Of course, he hadn't expected to see Jora outside of the cabin, so when she called his name, he nearly jumped out of his skin before sliding a carefully neutral expression over his face.

"I got your breakfast," he noted, sort of moving to go past her and head them both back to the cabin, but she'd stopped him by then. Well...there went that charade. He had known, deep down, he wouldn't be able to hide this from her for very long. Apparently, he just couldn't at all. Of course, she wouldn't see the others, but still. She would know. "I'm fine," he noted gently, shaking his head. "It's just a small bruise." It was worse than a small bruise, and they probably both knew it. But nothing was broken or anything, so it was fine.

Of course, as she persisted, he let out a soft breath and glanced around to make sure no one was nearby. "We can talk in the cabin," he noted softly. "It's too risky to be caught seen like this out here," he added, moving in that direction.

Jora stuck by him the entire way back to the cabin, and wasted no time taking the plate from him and setting it down on the side table, asking again what happened once the door was closed and locked. She'd taken his shoulders and sat him on the bed too, brushing his hair aside and peering at the dark splotch on his face, pulling a soft hiss of pain from him before he started talking. "I'm the new guy, remember," he noted. "Lowest of the low, at the moment. The servants and sailors all feel the need to be in charge of someone else, since someone is in charge of them," he added.

Then he sighed. "And i don't want to jepordize this by tossing them all overboard or breaking their noses," he grumbled. They'd briefly mentioned it before...about how she couldn't seem any more protective of him than most people would be about their servants. "It'll get worse before it gets better," he noted softly, meeting her eyes steadily. It would get worse...an dnot just as they continued to hit him. They'd try to get control over him in other ways too....ways he wasn't about to let happen. He could wiggle his way out of a confrontation, but he just hoped nothing too bad would actually manage to happen. Because it very well could, especially since they figured part of his work was bedding her. It was just asking for trouble. But he wasn't going to fight any more than he had to in order to get away from them in the moment. He couldn't show anyone even a fragment of who and what he was.