Iron Hearts Ch. 02

She woke to aching bones and a pounding head. Physical pain wasn't something that was new to her, and the familiar aches didn't frighten her. When her sleep addled body adjusted to her new surroundings she finally opened her eyes and slowly investigated the small room she found herself in. She licked her lips, finding they were cracked and salty. Another familiar thing.

At first she thought it was her own head that made the floors sway back and forth, but after a good amount of time had passed she realised she was on a boat across the seas. From that, everything clicked in place and the dark recesses of her mind filled with the memories of everything that had happened, everything up until now. The last thing she could recall was falling into the black waves, and losing consciousness to another kind of blackness.

She looked down at herself then. She was dry, not warm, but much better off temperature wise then in the clasp of the frozen ocean. And she found she was wrapped tightly in an itchy grey blanket. That wasn't what chilled her though, the realisation that she was completely naked under the cover, her goosebump riddled skin bound only by the thin grey cover sent a ripple of fear through her spine.

Her hair was salty and dry, and had been pulled into some kind of tight messy knot to keep it in place. This gave her more information than it should have. Unless it was a woman accustomed to tying the hair of men, this particular knot was one she had seen all too frequently. It was used to quickly and efficiently pull back the sea-known hair of sail hardy men. She shuddered now as unnwelcome thoughts threatened to blow her ice thin composure. Before she could think, and fret more on her current situation, she heard a commotion through the screams of the waves outside her door. There was shouts, deep voices battling it out against what sounded like an oncoming storm. Through her thoughts she hadn't even noticed that the comfortable sway of the room had turned more violent, and that the all too familiar sounds of an unhappy sea lurched outside. A storm was coming.

Her groggy mind kept to action and she scanned the room. She needed to find clothes, and from the escalating sounds outside the door she needed to do it fast. She spotted a once white shirt hung over a simple wooden chair that was pushed up against a small desk riddled with papers and maps. She didn't have time to investigate further but the evidence that this was a man's room twisted her stomach into uncomfortable knots.

She jumped up, eyes darting to the shirt and back to the door. She held the itchy material close to her chest as she ran across the moving room. Her sea legs were ever present and even through the brewing storm she walked the ships floors with ease. Her small victory came when she finally grasped the shirt and quickly slipped into it.

She was a tall women, a gift from her father, she had been made aware of this all her life. Even as a child she had been mocked for her gangly appearance and had easily rivalled in height the growing teenage boys around her. Only when she had matured had her body grown into its height. Her hips rounded and her breasts bloomed and what once had been awkward long limbs had turned into shapely, desirable legs. Only this new development had given her more trouble than her childhood woes. Even with her unwomanly height, the shirt brushed past her knees and her body was easily hidden under the mass of fabric that hinted at a broad chested owner. The small comfort of the large covering was greatly overshadowed by the new discovery of the man who's room she had slept in. What would a man like this even look like?

Before she could think more on this question there was a loud bang and the door separating her from the unknown burst open. Standing in the door way was a man. A very angry man. He was yelling something intolerable and his grubby clothes were soaked in what was most likely the waters of the stormy sea. She backed away from the man, glancing the mad look colouring his eyes.

There were hands grabbing at him, trying to yank him back but the madness strengthened his desire. He roared, seeing his prize clothed in an oversized shirt and backed up against the bed she had only a moment ago been placed in.

"The Faerie bitch will kill us all!"

He roared to the struggling figures that pulled at him. Some were yelling his name, others stayed silent, some cheered him on in his quest, the insecurity of the common superstitions eating at their souls, fuelling their own madness. The brute who she now knew as Drok managed to struggle past the door, flinging himself from the arms of those who seeked to stop their fellow man. It all happened in a matter of seconds but time moved so slowly she could almost see each action before it even happened. He was moving towards her, having no weapon but his hands, out reached and stretching towards her throat.

Just then there was another roar, a guttural one that was so booming it made her wince as another man pressed past the hoard, desperate to reach the door. She could only see his eyes, different flecks of blue that imitated the colour of the high seas, but the power that radiated there almost made her lose her breath. She had little time to look at this man though, and little hope that he or the others could save her from Brok. Her instincts kicked in and from her earlier investigation she had noticed a few many interesting things.

Her mind centred and focused and as her body sharpened she darted to the left, reaching with agile hands for the dagger that was slightly hidden and stuck in the leg of the desk. The man saw her movements and closed in, his beefy hands grabbing for her body. When his strong fingers dug at her skin and the ache of premature bruises made her wince, he had almost pulled her back before she could grab the knife. But her quick fingers had gracefully plucked the weapon from its place and wielded it around. His fingers were already on her throat, choking her of the precious air. But before panic could set in, her oxygen starved body pulled the knife around and held it to his back, angled to slip right in place to the kidneys.

The knife only seemed to quicken his assault and his fingers pushed harder on her windpipe. In one last warning she pushed the knife into his skin. Deep enough for ample warning, yet shallow enough that if he stopped the bleeding in time, the only injury he would suffer was the blow to his pride at being bested by a woman. The warning was enough for his to release his grip on her throat but his fingers were still around her neck, not ready to let go.

"If you do not let go of me I will plunge this dagger deep and watch you drop like a stone."

She spat out at him, the husky sound from her bruised throat only made the warning more dangerous. He heeded it, dropping his hands from her bruised neck, but before anything could go further the man in front of her was suddenly flung back. She had just moved the dagger in time before her attacker had been thrown to the ground.

There stood the man with the blue eyes, breathing hard as his foot stood harshly on the neck of Drok. He was glorious. His dark hair was pulled into a sharp knot that resembled her own and his body shadowed over hers. He was huge, emulating pure power, hungry and white hot power. His bronzed chest rose rapidly through each breath and she couldn't help but marvel at the masculine embodiment in front of her. She had seen all kinds of men from the sea, but he was something different.

She looked down and saw that he was holding his hand out to her. She frowned, looking up into his eyes before it finally clicked and she realised what he wanted. He waited hand out, for her to pass over the dagger. She raised her eyebrows in her first show of defiance to the man who she had know all of a few moments.

"You will not kill this man."

She said sternly as she heard the gurgled surprise strain past Drok's throat. He frowned at her, his mouth twitching at her tone.

"Forgive me my lady, but he is my man and he will pay for his crimes."

He watched as her hackles rose at his words. She narrowed his eyes and he was slightly uneasy at the effect she had on him.

"Forgive me Sir, but he committed the crime against me, and I shall be compensated as I please."

He wanted to laugh at the creature before him. With her enchanting looks and maddening body he didn't think he could take her or her argument seriously, but behind those large eyes held an experience that surprised him. There was more to this women then he realised, and he knew it was dangerous to underestimate someone. He had played that game once, and lost very dearly. But even witnessing the wisdom that held her gaze he couldn't withdraw. Something about going toe to toe with the girl warmed his blood, and other parts of his body.

"And prey tell, what compensation do you deem necessary for a man who tried to kill you?"

Her nostrils flared like a wild animal but the look only excited him. He kept that to himself though and ensured a serious look masked his face. She looked at him with a disarming glare.

"I have dealt with this behaviour before and killing him will not stop the absurdity of his motives. A lot of men on the sea have the same superstitions about a women on board. I'm sure this storm has not eased the thought that my presence here is bad luck. If you keep him alive, punish him through tasks, then he will see that my gender has no sway on the gods. Killing him will give you nothing but blood on your hands. Only a fool takes a life when he doesn't have too. Especially on the high seas."

She finished coldly, the heir of a practiced leader coloured her words. Some of the men close by who heard her reply sucked in shocked breaths. No one had gone up against their Captain and lived. It was as simple as that. There would be two body's given to the water today. But time continued on slowly, the Captain and the girl were in a battle of glares and all those around them could only stop and stare. Finally the Captain broke out in a wide grin, looking hard into her eyes, ignoring the heat that pooled down low.

"As you wish my lady. I'll spare his life. But since you so easily fit into the role as Captain then I will put him in your charge. Do what you will with him... but if you fail to control him, then you will be under my command. And you will do everything I ask of you,"

he paused, taking in the spitfire dressed in his own shirt. Blond hair escaping its knot in whisps around her face, long sun kissed legs that promised so much. She was truly enchanting.

"Or if you prefer then I can always put you back where I found you."

He grinned, nodding out the door, past the heard of onlookers and out to the storm swept ocean. He wasn't letting her go. Something about him went mad in her presence and imagining her jumping from his ship, escaping him through the source he had found her made him ache suddenly. But she didn't have to know that. The threat was clear and he waited for her response. He hated the thought that the man who had caused her the already showing bruises across her soft neck was to live, but if he really became a problem, the man would be gone before he even had the chance to beg.

She squared her shoulders, a determined look taking her eyes and stepped closer to him. She didn't even realise the effect that that one step had on him.

He swallowed at the sudden thought that she could have asked him anything in that moment and he would have been too enthralled to deny her. He was careful not to breath in her sent. The mixture of female plus the smell of sea salt would have made him squirm. She smiled, the grin of a cat who had cornered her rat.

"Agreed."