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That is a wonderful story, she is quite impressive and I really want a soft mattress, firm pillows, and mattress topper just like hers as mentioned above.

She had work to do.

She started with the beds. There was hers: soft mattress, downy blanket, firm pillows. Then there was Giana's.

and thankfully, I have gotten successful in finding the Mattress Topper deals to get all these bedding products at the sale price.

A little late, but it's here! I'm always surprised by how much my stories changes over the month. Every time I send it to a CP or editor I'm like: surely this will just be little grammar stuff to change. And then I get my notes back and they're always like have you considered this amazing new aspect to dig into? Well, this round of revisions was no exception. Last round of edits was all about adding some emotion and internalization, and this round was about detail and a ticking clock. I was very excited about Miranda's ticking clock idea to push the action forward. Ok, not at first because that sounds like a lot of work and I would like to stay at least close to the word limit. But after giving it an honest consideration, I realized that my story was looking for something to drive the action forward.

So here it is, the final draft of La Capitaine Retourne. Please enjoy. And if you want to read the first episode I wrote with Capitaine Margot Toulouse titled La Capitaine, you can read it here on the forum at https://writerinmotion.com/WIMForum/index.php?topic=146.0

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"Who's captain here?"

Boots thudded on the mossy pier. "Me voila." Capitaine Margot Toulouse touched the rim of her feathered tricorn, nodding to the man in the navy wool coat, his bronze buttons gleaming in the late-afternoon sun.

After months at sea, Margot still felt the phantom sway of the ocean beneath her feet.

"Capitaine." Lisbeth, Margot's second, joined her at the pier while the crew disembarked. "I don't like this tide. Too shallow. I'd guess we have only an hour before we're banked for the night."

Margot gazed into the cerulean depths as a church chimed out the hour. "Remind them we're here to restock food, not just rum." She nodded to the crew stomping down the pier and disappearing into the bustling marketplace. "We shove off in the hour."

Lisbeth shrugged. "I'll do what I can."

"Excuse me."

The two women turned to the forgotten man in his impractical coat.

"You can't dock here."

Margot scanned from his neatly tied locks to his shinny boots and decided he'd never spent a day at sea in his life. "This is the ocean. There are no rules."

"Now see here, as harbor master of--"

Lisbeth gave a quick shove, and the man careened into the water below. "I'll see they stay in line." She marched after the crew.

"And remember, we shove off in the hour," Margot called after her. "No exceptions."

Lisbeth didn't turn back, but Margot knew she was heard.

Just as Lisbeth would disappear into the crowd, a hooded figured swiped Lisbeth's purse. Margot tilted her head as she watched. She could use a quick hand. A petty thief was nothing special, but to get past Lisbeth was impressive. And Margot couldn't ignore a gut feeling.

She hurried after them, nearly losing the figure thrice in the crowded market, until she saw the dark hem of their cloak slip down a narrow alley. By the time she reached it, the alley was empty. They couldn't have gotten far. The church bell chimed the half hour. She should make her way back to the ship and oversee her crew...

Margot ran down the alley, dodging clotheslines and hopping over discarded refuse. She rounded a bend and was slammed into the wall, the wind knocking from her, and cold metal sharp against her throat.

"Why are you following me?" The cloaked figure was a woman. And a beautiful one at that. Full lips and a strong jaw. A purple scar tracked from the corner of her eye through her upper lip, leaving her face in a permanent snarl. Margot nearly forgot the dagger until something warm trickled down her throat. "Who told you about me?"

"No one. I'm here to--"

"There she is." Margot's response was cut off by shouting down the alley. "Grab the witch!"

The woman's head snapped to the men crashing toward them. The look in her eye told Margot everything she needed to know.

"To offer you a job." Margot reached for her sword. "I assume they're here for you?"

The woman lowered her blade from Margot's throat. "A job?"

"Go now." Margot turned her back to the woman, her sword raised. "Meet me by the docks. If you make it, the job is yours. Allez!"

The only reply Margot received was the swift patter of feet disappearing behind her.

The alley was too slim for a proper fight, but Margot would make due.

"Move, woman."

Margot lifted her sword higher. "That's Capitaine."

The man's sword was notably longer than hers. An advantage in any other situation. Sparks flew as his sword clanged against the stone walls, slowing his thrusts. Margot ducked low, slicing a gash to his thigh. He growled and backed a few steps, toppling into his comrades.

A blood-chilling scream echoed behind Margot. She needed to get back to the docks.

As the men untangled themselves, Margot leaped and caught the nearest clothesline. With a swing, she knocked them back to the ground, taking off to the market.

A growing crowd disrupted the normal foot-traffic, drawing Margot's attention. As she approached, a guard punched a familiar, cloaked figure in the gut. The figure fell out of sight. Panic churned through Margot's veins as she shoved her way to the front. By the time she broke through, the guards had pulled the figure back up and held her by each arm. "That's enough with you, witch."

"I've had enough as well," the woman ground out.

Her next words were muttered so low Margot couldn't make them out. At first unnoticed, and then growing like a fire, smoke billowed from the woman's cloak, her sleeves, her face, until the woman's body was nothing but smoke. Wisps circled her captors, slipping into their ears, their mouths, their noses; choking the life from them. They dropped at her feet, knees thudding on hardpacked earth.

Margot decided then, she must have this woman.

Someone screamed followed by more shouting as fog filled the market, nearly stifling the distant church bell chiming the hour. Margot entered the fray at a steady clip, never losing sight of where the woman last stood.

"What's your name?"

A face formed, her body returned. "Najwa." Her voice was a whisper in the chaos, meant only for Margot.

"Capitaine Margot Toulouse. I can promise you adventure and riches beyond compare." Margot offered her hand. "Come with me."

Najwa's hand was warm and calloused, her grip firm. "I will."

A smile pushed at Margot's cheek. "Tres bien."

Margot tugged, leading Najwa through the cacophony and back to the harbor. They had a ship to catch.

At the end of the dock, a sour-faced man with a damp jacket stopped them. On each of his sides stood a member of the royal guard, and behind his shoulder, Margot's ship slowly coasted from the harbor, the mainsail not yet raised. "You have been charged with disruption of the peace, illegal harbor usage, and assaulting an officer of..."

Margot stopped listening, her mind already working on a plan. "Can you swim?" She whispered to Najwa.

"If the need arises."

"Tres bien."

"And so, by the authority invested in me..."

Margot approached the man, who scuttled back nervously.

"Seize them!" he demanded.

The guards closed in.

"Merci, good sir, for your hospitality. And if you don't mind," she ducked under a guard's reach and pushed Najwa off the dock, "we'll be on our way."

Margot doffed her hat, bowing grandly, before following Najwa in a dive. After a hearty swim, they reached the rope Lisbeth lowered and were hoisted up.

Soaked yet satisfied with the day's work, Margot turned to her newest crew-member. "Welcome aboard, mon ami."