Waves of Passion

Aquila held the ship's railings tightly in her grasp as the rough sea buffeted 'The Meriah'. She'd been at sea for weeks now; perhaps months, but days such as this still caused her stomach to reel. Around her the crew seemed unperturbed. Sailors lazily hung in the riggings, or sat with their backs against the rails. Some looked to perhaps be working, but it seemed the whole crew had decided to take a break.

A voice called, commanding, strong, in a language Aquila did not understand. Captain Leit Tespar appeared on deck. The wind blew his thick wavy hair, making his dark blue piercing eye stand out ever more. The black slash of fabric across his right eye lay still and ever foreboding, the scar protruding from beneath staring out at her. The two swords slung across his back and the daggers at his belt caused a pang of fear to course through her chest, sending shivers across her body.

The crew quickly rose to their feet, trying to find something to look busy with. Aquila tried to stop the small smirk that tweaked at her lips as she watched the crew obey their captain, when the Captain's eye fell upon her.

She faltered and tried to look over the railing once more, hoping he had not noticed her stare.

"You are still unwell?" He asked, voice kind. She could hear his footsteps softly tapping against the deck towards her as her heart began to beat hard against her chest. Within seconds he was beside her. His head stood slightly taller than her own, the fabric of his shirt clung to his muscles as the wind whipped around him.

Aquila felt blood rush to her cheeks and she tried to turn away from him.

"It's nothing. Just a little seasickness. I'll be fine," she protested.

"Look to me," the Captain commanded.

Aquila hesitated. What if he saw her blushing?

She turned slowly, trying desperately to keep her eyes downcast. It seemed like an age as the Captain stood in silence studying her, his eye seemed to ravage her and she struggled not to cover herself, as if her thick cloak was not already doing so.

"Has my brother given you anything to calm you?"

As Aquila looked up she saw his brows crease, his eye focused on her with concern.

"No. No, I haven't taken anything," she stuttered.

The Captain sighed, "come with me," he suggested, before turning away from her and walking towards the Captain's cabin.

Aquila stood motionless for a moment before following him inside. This was not her first time inside this room. When she had been captured, along with Sir Salun, they had both been brought for questioning. Now Salun sat in the ship's brig whilst she was entrusted with the doctor, Captain Tespar's brother. She was a trained healer, and the arrangement made sense. The Captain would keep them safe and take them to their destination after running his own errands. In return she would help his brother heal the crew until they reached her destination. An easy arrangement. But one that still made her feel guilt.

The Captain walked over to a cupboard near the back of the room, seemingly oblivious to her plight.

"Please, take a seat," he beckoned.

Aquila looked around the room and chose the window seat. The Captain's desk sat in front of it, enveloped by light. The room was warm, comfortable. She sank into the cushioned seat far easier than she would have liked. Around her, the room was filled with shelves of parchment, tools for navigation and books.

A small smile crossed her lips. She remembered when she had first been brought into the room and left alone for quite some time. She had searched those books for some knowledge of the Captain's character only to find his taste in literature was vast, wonderful, and far more exotic than she would have thought a warrior to be capable of. She had been told her whole life that such men could not read, that they lacked the intellect, but nothing seemed farther from the truth aboard this ship. Every member of the crew was well educated, well read, and strangely mannered.

"Here, drink this," the Captain suggested as he sat beside her, holding a cup out to her with some form of red liquid inside.

"What is it?"

"It's nothing harmful. It will calm your stomach. An old sailors recipe," he explained, smiling ever so slightly, his sharp white canines peeking over his bottom lip.

Aquila tried to return the smile and took the drink from him hesitantly. Her mind reprimanding her with every step thought which passed through her.

'He's my captor, a traitor... I should hate him, should want to cause him harm. Why do I trust him? I'm an idiot.'

"You have settled? Aboard my ship?" He removed the swords from his back, causing his shirt to lift ever so slightly. A small glimpse of his muscled stomach and hip bone caused Aquila to start slightly as she tried to look away. He seemed oblivious to this as he leant back against the window seat and relaxed.

Aquila tried to think of an appropriate response. Yes, she was comfortable, but she shouldn't be. She liked the people aboard the ship but she should hate them. She was worried about Sulan in the brig but knew he was being well treated. So much contradiction.

"I have upset you?" The Captain asked. Aquila snapped from her thoughts and saw him leaning towards her, his eye once more full of concern.

"No, no, not upset," she stumbled over her words, "I'm just still so very confused."

The Captain smiled, "aren't we all?" He asked rhetorically.

"It's just..." Aquila felt the words rush to her lips as she sat powerless to stop them. "I'm your prisoner. Our countries are at war. Why are you being so kind to me?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, the scar under his right eye creasing slightly. "I was not aware I was at war with you personally?"

Aquila sighed, "you know that is not what I meant."

"But it is," he explained. "We are both from two different countries, they are at war with each other, yes? I am a warrior; I have and will fight your army until they cease to interfere in our affairs. Am I at war with you? No." Aquila stared in confusion, the Captain laughed gently at her before continuing. "You made no decision to go to war with my people, you are a healer. Your country is dishonourable towards you and would not give you the right to speak freely, let alone have a say in its politics. I have no quarrel with you. I decided to fight your country, but only because they attack us. If they stop, I stop. And I do not kill innocent, unarmed people. Hence why Sir Sulin is in my brig, and you wander freely across my decks."

"But, I am your prisoner," Aquila pointed out.

"No, you're a passenger until we reach your destination. You help my brother to give you something to occupy yourself."

They sat in silence for a moment, Aquila processing the Captain's words whilst he looked at her, his eye never faltering nor leaving her skin.

"Why have you taken me on as your passenger?" Aquila asked cautiously, she was not sure if she wished to hear his response.

"It is not in my habit to abandon someone in need when they are no risk to my people. And when one is so beautiful it makes it harder to ignore their plight," he explained, voice unfaltering, eyes never leaving hers.

She was frozen. She could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, her heart thumping in her chest. Her skin prickled, sensitive to the slightest movement in the air. Yet still, he just calmly looked to her. He was sitting too close, his leg almost brushing against her own, she believed she could feel the heat rising from him, smell his scent.

"I am betrothed," she blurted, not sure of what else to say.

"Betrothed is not the same as in love. Nor does it speak anything of freedom or choice. Your kind believes you have no right to your own life, no way to make your own decisions. My kind see you as free to do as you please with the same rights as any man." The Captain leant away from her, his jaw set tightly, his hands clenched. "You're free, I will return you to your people as it is what you wish but you're not betrothed upon this ship. You're free to do as you please, be who you please. And if you still wish to leave then so be it. But I want you to at least have lived a small portion of your life for yourself."

The Captain rose and walked to his desk. He leaned against it, seemingly studying some of the discarded papers, his face suggested agitation. Aquila's heart sank; she did not wish to hurt him, she just didn't know what to say, what to do. She tried to think as they did, to think of what he would say.

"Now I have angered you?" She half asked and half admitted. She looked down to her hands which lay clenched together upon her lap.

'She really was an idiot. This Captain, his crew, they'd done nothing to harm her. They were good to her and she had replied horribly to the Captain's flattery. Perhaps he was just being nice to her, trying to cheer her spirits.' She sighed heavily and closed her eyes.

A hand gently grasped hers, cold and calloused fingers wrapping around her own. She opened her eyes to see the Captain kneeling before her, her hands enveloped by his as he looked down at them.

"I am sorry. It was insensitive of me to say such things to you. I am not used to your people's ways and... they confuse me. Please forgive me." He put his forehead to her hands before releasing her and standing. "I'll leave you be, please, finish your drink, it will help and then try to get some rest. We may be in for a rough night." He turned away and headed towards the door.

"Is that why your crew have worked slower today? They are worried for a storm?" Aquila called.

The Captain stopped with a hand upon the door handle and turned to her, his face no longer angry but calm and collected. The shadows crossing below his cheekbones chiseling his face handsomely.

"It's why I'm known as a tough Captain. You never slack before a storm. That's how it wins," he half smiled to her before leaving her alone in the Captain's quarters, in his chamber.

Aquila grasped the drink in both hands as she tried not to think of his belongings spread around her. Her hands still held the memory of his touch. She couldn't help but blush stupidly.

That night the Captain had been correct. The storm rocked the ship viciously from side to side so that her hammock rocked uncontrollably below decks. Water dripped through various holes in the ships boarding and the constant shouts and affirmations of the crew and those in command echoed around her. But her stomach was calm. The drink had done its job and she was restless. Wrapping her thick cloak around herself she headed towards the ladders leading to the ship's deck.

The water hit first, huge waves of icy salted stone crashed against her, pushing her back and causing her to battle her way forwards. Next was the wind, freezing tentacles wrapping around her now shivering and soaked body. She half fell, half stumbled into the ships railings. Around her the crews calls were clear, but muted by the thunder and lightning. Bright light blinded one moment and then plunged into complete darkness the next. She was afraid and stupid to think coming on deck was a good idea.

"My lady, what are you doing here?!"

Aquila turned to see one of the crew tightly clinging to a rope that was lashed across the deck, looking around the whole deck was covered in a criss cross of them. She looked around dumbly when another wave crashed into them, pushing her tight against the railings and knocking the wind from her. A strong hand grasped her arm.

"You shouldn't be out here!" A strong voice, the Captain's voice cried.

She opened her stinging eyes and saw him standing beside her, his hand wrapped tightly around her forearm. The crewman had moved away, crawling through the ropes to the mast.

"I wanted to help," Aquila tried to call through chattering teeth.

"Then help below in the healers quarters, do not come up on deck," the Captain explained through gritted teeth. His fingers were hurting her, he was gripping too tightly.

"You're hurting me," she gasped.

The Captain looked to be about to speak when another wave crashed into them. She bit her lip as the icy water plunged over her head, her hands stung as she gripped the rope as tightly as possible. She tried to hold her breath, wondering when this wave would cease. But this time it didn't seem to end. She was being pushed to and fro, one minute she could breath, the next she was submerged. Her feet couldn't find purchase; she couldn't feel the ships railings. She pushed up for air and frantically looked around her, she could see light in the distance, the ship, she was not on it.

She coughed and sputtered as water filled her mouth. Her feet and hands stung with the sea's cold embrace, her heart hammered in her chest as adrenaline pumped through her body as she battled the sea, she was not strong enough, it was going to win.

"Reach out to me!" The Captain called, she could hear him, but she couldn't see him. She searched the water, all the while being pushed ever lower below the surface. Her chest was hurting; she was taking in too much water. Her limbs became heavy; she could no longer fight nor struggle. A strange coldness began to envelope her body as something hard as stone wrapped around her wrist.

When she woke her vision was blurry, but the room was warm, the ground stable. It did not feel like her hammock. As her eyes focused she recognised the green curtains around the bed. The pillows were soft and the blanket thick. She tried to sit up but fell back; instead she rolled onto her side and moved the curtain apart before her.

She was in the Captain's quarters, in his bed. She could smell his scent from the bedsheets, almost feel the curvature of the bed where his body would usually lie in it. She heard a cough and she jerked the curtain closed. She could not stop herself for long, curiosity caught her and she opened it just enough to see. As her eyes adjusted to the dark room and focused with the candlelight around her, she saw him. He was stood beside the bookshelf, glancing over its contents. He wore only trousers, scars ran across his back causing shadows as stringy as spider's webs to hover over him. He was thin but muscular. Not enough to be classed as a big man, but from the rumours the crew had told her, he was not a strength fighter. He was fast and agile. It didn't matter how large you were when you fought the Captain, they said he would always win.

She opened the curtains wider and pushed herself into a sitting position. She could see a thin blanket lying across the window seat, he had given up his bed for her. The candles around the room looked to have been almost burnt out, he was not sleeping. A piece of blue cloth lay upon the table and Aquila's heart fluttered.

'Of course he doesn't sleep with his eye covered.'

She looked towards him, he was still looking at the shelf before him.

"You should sleep," she commented.

The Captain seemed to stiffen.

"You're awake... I am glad."

"Only just," she commented. "You should be in your own bed."

A small laugh emanated from him. "You were half drowned, I think you needed a bed more than myself."

"And now you need it. Please, come here."

He hesitated, half turning to her before twisting towards his desk. He raised a hand to his right eye and made to walk towards his eye cloth.

"Don't," Aquila called, "please."

The Captain paused, he seemed conflicted. Aquila removed the covers from her legs, her clothes had been changed and she was in a baggy night dress which stopped just above the knees. She gently rose to her feet. She felt unsteady but soon she was tiptoeing towards him. His still, statue like form, stood where he had frozen, his hand still clamped over his right eye. Aquila stopped in front of him, his eye was downcast, refusing to meet hers.

She gently took his hand in hers, pulling it away from his right eye. It was also down cast, the scar which poked through its normal cover lay jagged and exposed across his eye. It looked angry, painful.

"Look at me," she commanded.

The Captain did not flinch, did not move. His eyes remained downcast, his hand limp in hers.

"Look at me," she repeated, her voice more forceful.

He seemed to sigh slightly. "You will not like what you see," he warned.

"Try me."

His eyes lifted slowly, his blue eye looked to her, scared and ashamed. His right eye was black, almost serpent like. A thin pupil pierced the darkness surrounding it. Together with the scar it was terrifying. But it was him.

Aquila smiled, "I don't see why you cover it."

His features softened before her, his lips slightly parted. The room seemed to grow distant around them. Aquila could feel her every intake of air before her world widened to his as she heard his breath, almost felt the heat rising from his body. Her free hand pressed against his chest, his heart racing against it. Her eyes studied him, unable to control themselves. A deep scar ran beside his left hip, on the other was a tattoo of a snake, intricately wrapped around itself, it brought a smile to her face as the snake's eye matched his own. She felt a warmth cover her hand and she looked towards it, almost confused to see it against the Captain's chest, but more so to see his hand pushed against her own.

A calloused hand held her cheek, lifting her face until the warmth of his lips touched hers. She inhaled quickly, her body stunned as his lips dampened hers. His hand let go of her own as it wrapped around her waist pulling her body closer to his. She could feel every muscle against hers, every ounce of heat escaping him and seeping into her. His lips worked with her own as her arms wrapped around his shoulders.

Her body was eager, it wanted him, she wanted him.

'You're betrothed; only your betrothed can have your body. This is wrong, he's my captor, I shouldn't be doing this.'

Her mind begun to race with thoughts when his tongue distracted her, gently licking her lips. She groaned as her mouth parted and his tongue slipped inside her mouth, he pulled her body ever closer, his hard chest pressing against her breasts. His knee slipped between her legs, his thigh pushing into her. Her body was ecstatic, it had never felt like this, how could it, sex was for the man; a woman would take no pleasure in it. Yet she felt a longing she'd only ever heard of in stories, her heart pounded loudly, her ears rang. Her mouth was full of his taste, her nose enriched with his smell.

'Betrothed...'

Something hard hit her the back of her legs as she was pushed against the Captain's desk, she had not even realised they'd been moving. His hands looped around her rear as he hoisted her onto the table, her legs parted with the movement as he slipped between them, forcing her body to lean back slightly as his groin pushed against her own.

"Captain," she whispered through her breath in the brief moment his lips left her own. "Captain, wait..."

"You know my name, use it," Leit commanded through heavy breaths as his lips brushed against her neck.

Her head tilted back willingly, she wanted this, she wanted him.

"Leit... Leit, I'm betrothed... I... We..."

He stopped and brought his face to hers once more, lips lightly brushing her own as he spoke, their breath mingling as one.

"On this ship, you're free. You do as you want. What do you want?" He asked, voice husky and low.

Aquila's mind raced, what did she want? Her body knew the answer, her hips gently thrusted against him subconsciously as his hands slowly, teasingly worked under her nightdress, crawling ever silently towards her upper thigh.

"Sex is for the man... I should not want it," Aquila explained, her mind trying to convince her body with little effect as her hand ran across his biceps feeling the tightness of his muscles, his strength.