The Pirate King Ch. 08

"This island," he whispered, "It's good. Got a villiage, everything you need." He paused. When he continued his tone was filled with concern, and worry. "But not on this side. Wicky insisted that we drop you off here, rather than over near the civilization. I only agreed because I trust you. You can take care of yourself." He kissed just below my ear when he said that, and I shivered. "We're putting you off near a small house. There is a man who lives there, and he will shoot you if you try to approach. I know you can deal with being on the island by yourself, and you won't need to go to the house. Right? Promise me I made the right call." He pulled my head back and searched my eyes, intense.

I smiled at him. "How many times have I told you. I will never let anyone hurt me."

"Not even an island?"

I chuckled. "You couldn't do it. What chance do you think an island stands?"

He cupped his fingers under mine and pulled me into a kiss, and the world melted around us. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled his body close. In what felt like no time at all, or maybe forever, he pulled back. "Promise me," he murmured. Commanded.

And I promised. What choice did I have.

We all stood, the only noise the snapping of the sail, as the island loomed closer and closer.

A man in a house who will shoot me, I thought. But there were many men in many houses who would shoot strangers, surely. Wishful thinking. The breeze caught my lips and I thought I almost tasted something I recognized, for the briefest moment, before it was gone. I shook my head. I watched a reef pass on starboard and thought it looked familiar, but didn't all reefs look the same?

"Shoot me with what?" I asked.

"What?" The Captain had obviously been thinking of other things.

"The man in the house. What will he shoot me with?"

"A crossbow." He gave me a hard look. "Don't go near him."

"I won't let him hurt me." I kissed him on the forehead; and wasn't that island behind us part of a larger atoll? No, couldn't be, we couldn't bethere.

"That isn't what I said," I heard the Captain return.

Or was it? I squinted. "Where are we, exactly?"

"Sails!" The men bustled to their work, leaving us alone. The ship slowed as we approached the shore.

"New Spain." He frowned at me. "Why?"

But itwas, I was sure of it, and the reef had been the same, and the taste on the wind... "Not the country, dammit, the" - I turned, pulling myself from the Captain's arms and rushing to the rail. I leaned on the rough wood, needing the stability as I scanned the shoreline and at the sight I felt a warmth grow within me that I hadn't felt in years. "My love," I whispered, and I felt the Captain come up behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist, and his warmth was at my back and this warmth was at my front and I nearly collapsed but I began laughing instead.

Fate, I thought, and another laugh escaped my lungs, the familiar air mixing with the pressure that had been there all day. How the tricks of fate bring us the things we need.

"Love?" The Captain was confused, and probably concerned. I tore my gaze from the white beaches and that stupid, lopsided hut jutting out over the sea and turned to him, beaming.

Did you know? I wanted to ask, but of course he hadn't, how could have have? And he looked so confused, so lost, that I laughed again and brought his lips up to mine, wondering if my enthusiasm, the wonder at the sight of these familiar shores could spill over from me into the Captain's body.

I thought about all the things this meant, all the joy it would bring me. All the joy I would still lose. Fate, I thought a little more sadly, but this was good, this was wonderful, because I had given myself a month to find transportation and to get here and here I was, and that meant less time away from the Captain, and I beamed down at him even as he frowned up at me.

"Can you do it in two?" I asked.

He was searching my face, those dark eyes lost, those brows so tight and I realized how confusing this must be for him so I leaned down and kissed him again, hoping that I could show him that it was alright, that everything was okay. When I pulled away he was shaking his head, but his face was less drawn together.

"Two months," I said, all the things that were mixed up in my chest tripping over each other as we drew closer to my home, my family, the parts of me I hadn't been able to see since I'd been killed and thrown into hell. "Now that we're here, I only need two. Can you do it?"

"Yes," he said, "of course."

I smiled, smoothing back his hair. "Good." I kissed him again, differently, deep and careless and with my whole body. It wasn't a kiss goodbye, because I would always be with him, would always be there, and what was the point of saying goodbye when I would be with him again so soon? But I still kissed him with passion, and love, and sorrow and pain and all the things that come with parting and when I broke away from him he gave a little gasp like he'd never breathed air before.

I rested my head against his and he tightened his arms around me. A noise caught my attention, and I lifted my eyes to find Cookie. He cleared his throat again, awkwardly.

Enjoy it, I remembered him saying. "You knew," I laughed, and he shrugged.

"Aye." He was staring at the shoreline with a scowl that was doing nothing to hide the trepidation that was growing behind his eyes. "But I thought we'd be on the other side. Nothere." He made as if to spit and then froze. His fingers etched sigils and marks of power in the air.

My eyes shot back to the beach. Oh, I suddenly realized. These men were not protected. And to be here, to be exposed -

"Your men must not step foot on this beach," I told the Captain. He caught the sudden edge of worry in my tone and looked up. "Truly, you shouldn't be here at all, not without the proper preparations." My eyes roved the ship - how long could they spend in this cove unnoticed?

"My love, I don't understand -"

"Please." I snapped my eyes back down to his. "Trust me. You need to go."

His eyes were all over my face, and I wished I had time to give him the answers he deserved. "Okay," he nodded, and I felt his hands tighten. "Okay."

Tension moved to the back of my mind. I would not be happy until he had left fully, but I knew he would do what he needed to. I knew he could take care of himself. I turned again to lean on the railing and look out onto the sandy shores, the forest just behind.

"Lad," Alan warned me, and I knew I didn't have much time, knew that I should leave so that these men could get to safety, but I didn't want to go. My home warmed my front; the Captain my back. No; my home warmed both sides of me, and I suddenly realized that I was about to lose one part of this, that I was so close to having it all and it hurt, it hurt so much more that this was the way it had to be. The love of my life, here with my home, my family. A part of my family. And then gone.

Frustrated, wishing, I looked up the shore and saw a small girl sitting there, watched her watch the ship. Saw her stand and wave and knew she knew I was home.

Fairly, she'd probably been expecting me, but. Still. I had to go. I had to leave the Captain and return to this part of my life. But one day, I thought. One day soon.

"I can't keep her waiting, love." I turned to him and grasped him by the arms. "But one day we'll come back, and you'll meet her, okay? I want nothing more than that."

He stared at my wide eyes. "Meet who?"

I grinned, and knew it was a silly grin, a sloppy grin, knew it looked ridiculous in my muscles but couldn't keep it from splashing across my face regardless. "My daughter." I kissed him again. "I think you'll really like her."

"Your..." he looked out at the shore, eyebrows scrunched up, face so confused. I waited to see what he would say. "What the fuck?"

I let myself laugh, knowing that meant that we were okay and that everything would be alright. I pulled him in for one last kiss, but it had to be short because Alan was hissing, "Lad," and of course he was right to keep the ship safe but how foolish was I to worry about this man, this man who tasted like the sky and I pulled away and smiled. "Two months," I told him, and he smiled back.

"Two months." And I pretended that he sounded more confident than heartbroken as I traced his cheekbone down to his lip and pulled away.

"I love you," I heard him say, and turned back for one last smile as I climbed over the railing and cast myself into the sea.

***

The Captain did not flinch at the sound of the body hitting the waves, although many men did. They crowded the rails, exclaiming and shocked, faces turned to watch the strange visitor swim for shore.

The Captain did not join them. He stood, eyes trained on the shore, heavy brows made heavier by the sudden information placed on his head. Then he sighed. "Natch," he called.

A small form detached himself from the rail somewhat unwillingly. At the sight of the beckoning hand, he made his way towards the Captain with obvious trepidation.

"Aye?" He said the word like a flinch.

"Did you know the sailor had a kid?"

Natch's head snapped back to the figure swimming away from the ship. "Shit."

"Yeah," the Captain sighed, "me either." He frowned for a moment more, then shrugged. "Well, time to get out of here. We haven't put down anchor, have we?"

"Uh..." Natch looked uncertain. "We're really just going to leave him? Here?"

"It's what he asked." The Captain smiled at the boy before him. "Well, hop to it. Get the men moving."

Natch blinked into the words. "I. What? Me? Where's Wicky?"

"Wicky," the Captain said carefully, cooly, without a care in the world, "has been relieved of his duties until I know that I can trust him again."

"Oh," Natch replied quietly. He laid his eyes on the brunette man, flanked by two much, much larger men. "Does he know that?"

The Captain grinned. "Nope." He looked down at the smaller man beside him. "And it's your official first duty to let him know."

He left Natch standing there as he went to give his orders to the rest of the crew.

The blonde boy watched him go, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. Then his eyes slowly turned back to the first mate - former first mate - and his heavily armed entourage. Nervous fingers worked the hilt of the knife ever-present at his side.

"Fu - uh -uck," he voiced, and headed over to break the news.