Ahh, so this chapter might not be any good. I wrote it pretty fast in the middle of the night. But I was struck with inspiration, and I've been waiting for it for a while so I figured I would just bash it out. I really hope you enjoy this Samlaena content and a few references to the past that she mostly pushes away. I love writing this story, and I hope you love reading it. Please REVIEW and let me know what you think. :)))

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Celaena clutched the edge of the boat, cherishing the freedom of the sea salt she could taste in the air, and the wind whipping around her. She loved the wind; it was wild and soothing at the same time, strong and gentle simultaneously. It reminded her of people long gone, people that she didn't let herself think about. They had been travelling for a few days, and she knew there were many more to come, but it didn't stop the dread gnawing on her gut that seemed to grow as they neared Ardalan. Skull's Bay had been…not what she had imagined. But she was glad they had been sent there. Glad she had been able to help those people who would have been sold into slavery, glad that she and Sam had become, if not quite friends, then allies, and glad that she had tasted freedom, rebellion. Celaena knew she was a wild individual, a young woman of adventure and will, but these years with Arobynn, so much of her had been stifled. Including that freedom. There would be consequences, she would be stupid to think that there wouldn't be, but she had known that when she had done it. And she had still done it. It felt good. Despite the suffering it would bring her, despite the fact that it changed nothing. She was still the same person, the person who had done despicable things to feel safe, had become despicable things. But maybe she was a little bit of something else as well. Maybe she was a little bit brave.

The figure approaching her was identifiable by his familiar footsteps, and Celaena was almost surprised by herself that she didn't tense up. Everything that had happened, all the years of training, and she still tensed when people came up behind her. But not Sam. She tried not to think too long about what that meant. "Are you thinking about what he's going to do to us?" Not moving her eyes from the horizon, she felt him settle beside her, staring out over the choppy ocean.

"Yes, I was," she admitted, no shame, just brutal honesty. "It doesn't matter though," she added, "whatever it is, whatever he does to me, it will be worth it."

"It will," he agreed. "Celaena," his voice became quieter and she frowned a little at the shift in tone. "May I ask you a question?"

"No," she replied immediately, and he seemed to study her expression for a moment, before letting out a low breathy laugh, reading the humour in her face. It surprised her that he could read her so easily. Then again, they had been enemies for years; they were accustomed to each other.

"When you saw those slaves, when Rolfe presented them to us, you looked…" He trailed off, as though not quite sure how to finish his sentence, and all humour had left Celaena's own expression now, tense and masked. She paused, trying to find the right words, the right anything.

"So did you." She remembered the horror in his eyes, undetectable to the Captain, as they had examined the true intention behind Arobynn's mission for them. The disgust for what they were involved in.

"I was horrified. Sickened." She felt him glance to her, pausing before continuing, as though wondering how far this new friendship allowed him to push. "But the way you looked at them, with recognition. With remembrance." Neither of them spoke, letting the words settling over them, the implication behind the sentences. He was pushing, not because he was nosy, or because he wanted to push her buttons, but because he genuinely cared. It shocked her, her changed perception of Sam. They had grown up together, and before this point, it had been hate. She thought it had been hate. At least, it had been disliking. But now, it was like they had been friends this whole time. Like everything they had been through together was spun into a new angle. She wasn't sure if she liked it. The confusion that came with this level of tolerance. She didn't know how to handle liking Sam, when she had always disliked him. Then again, there were bigger things to think about right now. Like the man waiting for them on the other side of this ocean. Maybe once they reached that man, everything between them would go back to the way it had been. It would certainly be easier. Yet, the thought didn't settle easy within her. Ad so she decided to test this new understanding between them.

"When I was a child, before Arobynn, I was nearly forced to stay somewhere. To be under someone's control, to be viewed as some sort of prize camel, to be exchanged for the right price." Naturally, the price had been a little different, but she wouldn't go into the details. "It wasn't slavery, not even close, but I remember the feeling I got what I understood what was happening. When I realised I might not get a choice. It felt suffocating." Sam didn't move, not an inch, and Celaena didn't look to see his reaction. "It's not why I did what I did. I did that because what was happening was wrong. Because people are not a commodity to be traded and exchanged and sold. They are human beings. But when I saw them, it just reminded me of that feeling." It was the most she had spoken about her past in years. She didn't talk about it. It wasn't her life anymore. She was someone new. But she had discussed it out loud. Granted, it had been vague and closed, but she had done it. Because of Sam. Because part of her trusted this boy beside her.

"Thank you, Celaena," he said after a while, as though he could read her very thoughts of the significance of what she had just done. As though he was honoured she had spoken to him. Properly spoken to him. He murmured something about talking to the Captain, but Celaena's blood was pumping so hard in her ears that she hardly heard him. She just stayed stood, looking over the ocean. And then she grinned. Because she and Sam Courtland were friends. Not allies. They were friends. She had forgotten what that felt like.

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