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                                      Alaric didn't much like having Flint around. Surely he was good at his job. But he was the sort to say too much, without even opening his mouth. It was his silent stare that made the captain uneasy. As he was starting to worry that the man thought him weak. It was obvious that something was on his mind. He was hardly keeping to one path as they traveled through the forest. Alaric seemed to wander idly with his head pointed downward, and yet somehow, he convinced the others that he knew where he was going.

                                      Sophie had spoke of his spirit being the one that visited her that night, and so he could only assume he knew the way-- at least subconsciously. Of course, if it didn't work out, and they wound up captured-- he would have a great deal of explaining to do, but he would just have to cross that bridge when he came to it. For now, he was trying to ward off his worry for Estelle. He knew he shouldn't have left her in the woods with that imp. There was no telling what trouble she could run into, especially with the Prince of Moriel hunting her down. Then again, he still believed that this would be the last place Corvis would expect to see them-- that is if he hadn't already gotten his hands on Sophie.

                                      It had been three days since his vision. And he feared that he may not have been in time. If that was the case, his men would likely insist that they storm the castle in some feeble attempt to honor him. But Alaric was no fool. This place was built on magic. And no mere human's were going to take it down. As a matter of fact, he worried that the only reason the Prince had let him run off with Estelle, was because he planned to use Sophie to track her down and make sure she suffered. Her gift of sight was likely no secret. Her mother seemed more than willing to give up the girl's life-- what was modesty in regards to her talents? No, Corvis had known her value. And in honesty, it made him feel wary. He was surrounded by the old lovers of this woman. Yet found himself alone every night since he met her.

                                      Estelle seemed so willing to give herself to those who didn't care about her, but reluctant to look his way, when all he had wanted to do was keep her safe. Although admittedly, he hadn't exactly been the kindest of saviors. They had bickered, yes. But she was terribly insufferable, and refused to submit to his will-- however, maybe that was the reason he liked her so much. The woman spoke her mind, even when the odds were stacked against her.

                                      "Is this village going to pop up like a daisy? Or should we be using a map of some sort?" Flint mumbled from behind his captain, his voice filled with a great deal of annoyance, as they had been walking for many hours now.

                                      "Could you please let the him think." Jolly hissed.

                                      Albeit, the powder monkey been quiet the entire walk. Yet still, the bosun seemed annoyed. "I'm tired. I've 'ad nothing to eat." Flint snapped. "I only want to 'elp 'im find 'is destination sooner."

                                      "The captain doesn't need yer 'elp. So bitching about it isn't going to do ya much good." Stout growled, spitting on the ground by his own feet as they trekked the foliage.

                                      Alaric was only half listening to their banter. He felt he was getting close. And only a few minutes later, he lifted his arm from beneath the weight of his cloak and pointed east. "There." Ahead the trees seemed to clear, revealing a small patch of cabins. Some people mingled about the dirt path with their horses and baskets full of vegetables-- men, women and children of all shapes and sizes. It seemed like a rather quaint place. And had Alaric not seen with his own eyes the horror that had happened here, it would have been a firm reminder of the home he left ten years ago.

                                      "'Ere? Are you sure captain? 'Ave you visited this place before?"

                                      "Aye..." He replied softly, starting out of the forest into the village. But immediately they were spotted. And the people began to scatter without warning, leaving behind their food, water, and even their animals until the streets were bare. He knew they had been terrorized, but living in fear such as this...well...it wasn't living at all. His men however, seemed proud of the frantic state they had put into these strangers.

                                      "Seems your reputation proceeds you, sir." Jolly said, his grin heard within the statement. He was a strange boy. Often frightened by dangerous situations, but found jovial at the sight of Alaric's just rewards.

                                      "I don't think it's me these people fear." He replied, as his crystal blue eyes searched for the same hut he had seen Sophie's mother being dragged out of a few night's ago. Luckily, it wasn't long before he found it. The group of four moved toward the front door, and Alaric didn't bother to knock. He lifted his boot and kicked the structure in. It made a striking noise, as a shriek could be heard inside and the pitter-patter of little feet.

                                      "Sophie don't!" Her mother's cry could be heard, but the little girl had already scurried toward the door. Her face lit upon seeing the figure in the archway and she opened her arms running toward him. Alaric dipped down as her tiny arms wrapped around his neck, her face moist with fresh tears. In turn, he scooped her up with one hand and placed her on his hip as the other unsheathed his blade and brought it to the chin of the mother-- who had been on her heels. "How dare you come back here!?" She was seething with rage, her chest heaving in and out as she slammed her fists down at her sides like a child. "I did the spell! I know I did it right...on the beach..."

                                      Alaric did recall her chanting...but he hadn't know it to be magic. In honesty, he was feeling overwhelmed, so he was hardly able to concentrate on this woman's rantings. This was a precious child. And she was burdened with so much saddness it was sickening. "You put a spell on me b***h? I should cut your tongue out!"

                                      She swallowed nervously, taking a step back. "She's not yours. She's mine. And I forbid you to take her!"

                                      "But you cared not three nights ago! When the King's men came, you bid they kill her..."

                                      Her eyes flickered. "How did you know that?"

                                      Sophie looked back at her mother through strands of dark matted hair that fell over her expression.

                                      "You did this!? You brought him here!?" The woman reached for the girl, snatching her by her hair as she cried out and clawed for the captain.

                                      "No! Mom! No!"

                                      However, Alaric was quick. He was far too reminded of how Olivera had treated his mother and swiped at her hand. In addition, Stout had already passed by him, proceeding to shove her backward before showing her his own sword, which was much more threatening visually, but much less deadly.

                                      The captain drew a breath as he put the witch's dagger away, then reached up to run his hand over the Sophie's sweating forehead. "Are you alright, lass?"

                                      She nodded several times, before her face found the crook of his neck. "I get to go with you right?" She whispered, her body trembling from the trauma. "You're going to be my family now? I don't want to stay here. Not with her."

                                      Alaric was stunned. As was his crew. Even Stout turned from the mother to look at him. But the captain had enough for the day. He knew nothing of being a father. He had made that clear to himself when he was debating Estelle's pregnancy. "Aye little one, the crew will take care of you." He replied, turning and leaving the house so that Stout could do his work. Both Jolly and Flint fell into stride with their captain as the cruel woman could be heard screaming from her cabin, and it seemed the farther they got, the louder they became. Alaric knew that that those who followed him would want to address the situation. Yet these men remained silent until they got back to the ship.

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                                                                              ♦The streets of Nithrill were shrouded with figures of shadow as Caspian and Estelle made their way through. Vendors selling an assortment of goods, stolen jewelry, and trinkets that likely belonged to deceased villagers from Moriel who had wandered too close to the border of their kingdom and into the next. Goblins peered over at the pair with glossy yellow eyes and imps similar to Caspian looked on with curiosity. It wasn’t the idea of newcomers that caught their attention…. But the fact that one ought have been long since dead by execution. It was true, Estelle was well known by the locals here whether it be through her father’s proud declarations onto his customers or through personal encounters she’d had with the people of Nithrill over the years. It was by no means a safe place to live as both Goblins, imps, and races of the like were known to be mischievous and without conscience. But she’d had her fair share of experience with them. And fear them she did not. ”The pub…. We should go to the pub. Jolly said that-” But already Caspian was in no mood to put up with the antics of her captain and his crew. Whatever it was they’d planned for Weknox, it would do them no good here. ”You’ve been gone much too long. This isn’t like that. Or have you already forgotten? That’s just like you. Abandoning what you know. Giving it up in exchange for what others have to offer without so much as knowing their true intentions. What makes you think that man and his crew would have been successful in their endeavors? Think Estelle. Think for yourself. Where do we know there to be an orc in Nithrill?” Estelle preferred to ignore the suggestive manner in which he spoke as he referred to her sins of the past in giving up her child and her experiences with men, instead focusing on what she’d heard whilst visiting her father. It would have been useful simply to ask him for herself if he knew of such creatures but Caspian had already made it clear that such was not an option. ”…… The blacksmith. The blacksmith is an orc. Father…. He healed many of Nithrill’s people, including soldiers. When he inquired as to who made their armor and blades he was referred to a man not far from our own home. His craftsmanship was poor but cheap….. enough to be able to provide them with an assortment of tools without breaking the royal’s treasury in the process….”

                                                                              ”That doesn’t surprise me. Nithrill never did depend on weaponry all that much in battle.”

                                                                              ”What then?” There was a sorrowfulness in Caspian’s eyes then as he stared down at Estelle before turning down the path and moving ahead of her. ”Numbers.” It was a painful realization as she took into account the lack of training of those who had served Nithrill in war. Her father had done countless healings. Plenty having still resulted in death as the injuries were too great. Goblins and imps may have been magic users and dangerous in some aspects but they were not meant for battle. And most certainly not when they went untaught. ”We’ll commission him.” Caspian’s voice broke through her train of thought and brought Estelle to a jolt in her pace before resuming after him, following down the familiar path that lead towards her father’s home amidst the stone carved structures. ”Commission?”

                                                                              ”Your captain. He is not without his fair share of wealth, no?”

                                                                              ”Yes but…… Well…. No not in any form of payment. He-“

                                                                              ”Silver?”

                                                                              Estelle froze at the suggestion and immediately grew enraged with the imp’s company. He was far too knowing. Too spot on for his inquiry to have been made at random. ”You saw! You were snooping about! Oh Caspian if I didn’t need you I swear by the gods I would have-“

                                                                              ”Killed me? Now now Estelle. Don’t get too worked up over your own fantasies. You’ll only harm the child.” The conversation was cut short as they rounded a second corner down a long cobble road to which her father’s home came into view. It was a tempting sight albeit peculiar. There was an odd air about it that unsettled the fairy’s mind as they passed. The outside appeared unkempt, dusty, and with an abundance of cobwebs. She wasn’t even sure the man was home. ”Can we at least-“

                                                                              ”No. Stay focused Estelle. Do you not want to impress your precious pirate? Now listen carefully. Orcs aren’t terribly clever but they do come with their fair share of tricks. Let me do the talking. We will ask him if he might consider commission work on the ship. Kill the captain in exchange for goods.”

                                                                              ”What if he refuses?”

                                                                              ”He won’t. Orcs may have few interests but they are just as greedy as the rest of us. He will come.”

                                                                              Estelle wanted to further discuss the matter as their plan seemed to be made on a whim and without stability. But before she could inquire of as much they approached a rotting wooden home in worse shape than her fathers. And from it arose a putrid odor that Estelle could smell from a yard away. ”Stay over there. Don’t move.” Caspian pointed across the path on the other side and Estelle obliged if only to escape the stench writhing from within the building as the imp moved forward. Just as he was about to wrap his knuckles against the door frame, the entry way came bursting open revealing a flurry of gnashing teeth and fumes. There before him stood a figure seven feet tall, its face wedged tightly against its skull and its shoulders spread wide apart as unearthly pale green hued skin held taught against its form. ”What is it, what do you want?” The orc spat as his eyes darted to and fro. And it was only then that Caspian noted their dull white irises signifying that of a blind man. Fortunately for Estelle Caspian found no pity in this beast. ”Work. I’m looking to commission someone.” The orc squinted and sniffed the air before slowly turning his face down upon the imp in a particularly eerie manner. His eyes scanning Caspian’s face but holding no sign of recognition or sight. ”I’m not for commission. I find my own damned pay.”

                                                                              ”In silver?” The orc, which had begun closing its door, now stopped as Caspian wedged his foot between frame and door and persisted further. Attempting to entice him with currency. But just as he was appearing to gain interest he paused and pushed past Caspian just enough to get another whiff of the air beyond him. ”You are not alone. You are with fairy- “

                                                                              ”Which comes to my second form of payment. I need a man dead. The captain of a ship I work on. He spoke of greatness when recruiting me but his endeavors have been fruitless if not a waste of our time. I wish to take control. But I need a brute to do the dirty work so that the crew will not come to suspect me. I’m willing to pay a chest of silver for the deed to be done before morning”

                                                                              ”And the woman?”

                                                                              ”That there is the daughter of Orion Whitlock. Late fairy healer and spell binder of Nithrill.”

                                                                              ”The fairy’s daughter….. But she was to be executed.”

                                                                              ”Escaped. Word is that she bearing the child of none other than the prince of Moriel himself. If you do this for me, not only will you walk away a rich man but I will place her in your possession.”

                                                                              ”There is a hefty bounty on her….”

                                                                              ”Indeed. Plenty worth one man’s life. It’s only a matter of what that means to you that counts.” There was a moment of silence that passed as the orc debated the offer before retreating into his home only to return with a large battle axe. His grip on its handle tightened as he moved out into the open and turned back to face Caspian with a brief nod. ”Take me to your captain.”

                                                                              - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


                                                                              The walk back was strenuous and quiet with the exception of deep inhalations coming from the orc as he walked behind Caspian and Estelle behind him in fear of partaking in the disturbing stench continuously arising from his person. Leaves, sprigs, and fallen bits of bark crunched beneath their feet as they continued on their way without sign of stopping, leaving Estelle somewhat exhausted from the long hike back up the caverns of Nithrill only to have to walk another good hour or so back to the ship. But just as they began to close the distance, the orc froze. And in turn Estelle did as well. Caspian turned around, puzzled by the lack of sound from the other two and approached the large creature with little lack of confidence. ”What is it? Why have you stopped?” But the orc merely shifted one foot back, weighing his axe in his hand. Frustrated by this Caspian moved behind him and gave a rough shove. ”Move orc!” Everything happened so suddenly and before she knew it the monster had turned on Caspian, swinging his axe at the man and barely missing as the imp dodged out of the way. ”What are you doing?!?!? I’ve commissioned you!!!!” He was baffled by the fact that not only had the orc chosen to attack, but before he’d been shown where the silver was. But it didn’t take long before his intentions came to light. ”And your silver would be more than appreciated but the prince of Moriel has already offered me twice as much if I were to come bearing his lover and first born!” The second swing came abruptly and Estelle let out an ear splitting scream as the flat of the orcs blade hit the side of Caspian’s head, sending him flying back onto the ground in a daze. The beasts attention quickly turned on her. And although with wings she might have used flight to escape such danger, she was without such now. Instead Estelle reverted to gaining height by scaling the nearest tree, the orcs breath hot on her trail as he began swinging away at the bark and sending bits flying in every which direction. She fumbled for the pistol but with the next swing the tree swayed violently and she watched as the weapon fell below beside his feet. A look of intrigue crossed his face as he left his axe wedged into the somewhat thin trunk and lifted the loaded pistol in hand. ”I’m sure we can negotiate on this. I don’t think Prince Corvis would appreciate me putting too many holes in the woman carrying his child.” Estelle’s hand clamped over her mouth as she pressed herself against the tree trunk and watched as Caspian began moving ever so slightly before looking up at her, and vanishing into a cloud of smoke. Her tears streamed down her cheeks as she let out a cry only to be greeted by a shot fired from the pistol Alaric had given to her. It was a near miss but it didn’t take long for the orc to pull back the hammer and let another bullet fill the chamber. ”Don’t make this difficult.” He grunted and put his finger on the trigger. It was in that moment that Estelle realized how truly alone she was. And so, a second shot rang out.


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                                      This was the second time; the second time he had been pierced by his own weapon. And surely it would not be the last. As it seemed he was willing to suffer any ailment for the sake of Estelle. Even if he had believed she had so willingly betrayed him. Such obviously was of no matter to the pirate captain, for at the mere sight of her moving through the brush with both her lover and an orc in tow, he decided to leave Sophie in the care of Jolly in pursuit of her reasoning for traveling with the dangerous group. But it only dawned on him as he made it down the wooden ramp onto the shore, that she might have left this morning in hopes of capturing or tricking one of the brutes, so that he might have a chance to capture it.

                                      The thought was a striking one which left him hesitant. Not because he didn't wish to see her, but because he was so proud of the initiative she had taken. Only she would think to disobey him the way she had, by sneaking off the ship in the hopes of pleasing him. The others would have been too fearful of his wrath-- and right fully so, as he did not hold them in the same regard as he did this woman. They likely would have been dead before they had even made it into the forest. She was lucky to have escaped punishment. But it was possible, had she been aware of the consequences, that she would have done it anyway. She was a spirited soul, that much he knew. And although she had fear like any other person, she knew how to control it.

                                      "What do you suppose that is about?" Flint asked, having almost appeared at the captain's side out of thin air. He had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed the man following him. It was likely Trigger, or Stout had sent him. They worried about his safety. It was often he rushed into trouble without thinking of the result it could have-- on not only himself, but the crew.

                                      "I can't be sure..."

                                      Flint ran his tongue over his teeth, as if he was afraid to say what he was thinking. "I think your whore is bringing you an orc."

                                      Alaric hadn't wanted to admit out loud that this was the case. Estelle did much for him, and although it was admirable, he also worried the others would think he was lazy-- sending a woman to do a man's job. However, he hadn't sent her at all; she had gone of her own free will. "It would seem so."

                                      "A brilliant plan using 'er, captain."

                                      Alaric for once did not want the credit. As a matter of fact, he was hoping after this, the crew would simply fall into line with the idea of keeping her aboard-- pregnant or not. She had earned her place. And she would no longer answer to the title of 'whore.' "I didn't even know she was gone."

                                      Flint turned his head, his eyes holding a bit of shock. "She is more than she appears--"

                                      It was then, in the midst of their conversation that the screams of his newest companion could be heard in the distance-- across the sand, and among the trees. His gaze followed the disturbance seeing that the orc had suddenly turned on Estelle and her ex-lover, swinging his ax overhead as the two tried to get away. But escape was futile, as it seemed the two had been caught off guard. Alaric couldn't be sure if it was the sight of the ship that had spooked him, or they had given their plans away accidentally. In addition to that, he had been moving in their direction before Flint came over, and he worried it had been his actions that frightened the creature as well.

                                      Whatever the case, he couldn't simply stand around waiting for the imp to take it down. Especially since he had already taken a deafening blow. Alaric broke into a run, a speed that Flint would not be able to keep up with as he left the man in a cloud of dust from his whirling feet. He called out for him to stop, but the captain was already well on his way-- as the wind ripped through strands of his wild blond hair. The man was ready to attack, reaching for his blade as he got closer, only to find that orc was in possession of his pistol.

                                      Estelle had climbed into a tree, and had lost it fumbling to position it in her hand, giving her attacker the advantage. Luckily, he didn't quite know how to use it, and the first shot missed, but a second was coming sooner than Alaric could reach it with his blade. So he yelled, "Hey!" Before the creature could take another shot. It was covered in armor with murky colored skin, pointed ears and fangs like a bat. It's eyes were beady and yellow-- as he was filled with misplaced anger. Therefore, it only took seconds for the orc to readjust his target and yank back on the hammer firing the second shot at Alaric.

                                      He stopped mid stride as the bullet struck him in the shoulder, tearing through his flesh, but never coming out the backside. It got lodged in his bone, causing the man to groan loudly as his hand came up and clasp the wound in surprise. Behind him, Stout, Jolly, Sophie, and Trigger were all running to aide him. He stumbled backward, the gravity of the wound hitting him in full force. However, the creature was not done his assault. He was back to pointing the gun at Estelle, who was shuddering with fear in a nearby tree. Alaric felt helpless in that moment, yet furious as the same time-- there was nothing he could do? And she was going to die.

                                      The captain had never felt so many emotions in all his life. Whilst the scenes of his many encounters with her played back in his head, a clenched fist began to steadily raise from his side. In that moment, Alaric opened his hand revealed his palm as a blast of energy left his body so powerful that Jolly screamed for the others to drop down into the sand for cover. The wave left him from every corner, like a force field surrounding his body and blew out in every direction. It cut through the trees like a knife taking every leaf as the stumps themselves seemed to lean from the pressure. The orc was send flying backward, and hit the ground with a thud as a crater of dirt formed around his unconscious body.

                                      Alaric finally breathed, feeling a great deal of his vigor leave him. He dropped his hand and slumped forward slightly winded, as his crew picked themselves up out of the sand to join him. "Captain, are you alright?" Stout shouted, as he closed in on the man, his eyes locating the bloody wound in his left side. He attempted to pry Alaric's hand from it so he could better see, but he was only pushed away.

                                      "Go, retrieve the orc's blood."

                                      "But you've been shot, sir!"

                                      "I gave an order." He swallowed weakly shaking his head. "Go."

                                      His first mate looked torn, but quickly departed wobbling off into the shallow wooded area, which ground was now littered with leaves, to find the creature.

                                      Jolly was next to approach, his body trembling like that of the little girl right next to him, whose hand he held firmly. Tears were falling from Sophie's face uncomfortably and the sight of the wound, only made things worse. "Alaric!" She cried, noting the seriousness of his injury as she ripped away from the bosun and ran to wrap her arms around the captain's waist.

                                      But he smiled down at her. "I'm fine."

                                      Trigger had passed by the three, and was on his way to the tree where Estelle had sought refuge. "Come on, you've done enough work for todeh." He reached up, his large arms held out for her to jump down into, offering assistance in getting her down and back to the ship in one piece. Jolly offered the same too Alaric, as the captain let out a agonizing moan from the pain of his wound. The bosun grabbed for his good side and attempted to turn him around so that he could hobble back, as Sophie simply clung to his leg for dear life.

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                                                                              ♦TThe force behind Alaric’s power was truly unparalleled and had she not seen it for herself, Estelle wouldn’t have believed such to exist. And yet there he stood. His body emitting off a wave of energy that threw the orc off his feet and rattled the tree in which she clung to. Despite having been shot Alaric fought through the pain and in turn saved her life…. When it seemed all she’d ever done was nearly bring his own to an end. The fairy was left stunned and shaken but unable to leave the confines of the branches around her until Trigger approached and offered helping hand. She wanted to find solace in the man’s words as she leapt down but only felt shame and regret in having thought that she could handle such a task on her own. Perhaps she’d chosen the wrong charm to give the captain in Weknox. Perhaps it should have been one that granted him luck when she was near. ”Alaric…..” Estelle croaked and moved to approach the man but found herself unable to further address him in fear of only making matters worse. It was only upon reaching the ship and being isolated in a room below deck that she was able to find her voice once more. And it wasn’t at all for who she’d intended.

                                                                              ”I see you’ve managed.”

                                                                              Estelle looked up from where she sat on the bunk with her face buried in her drenched hands only to find the imp standing off to her side. She’d been unable to bring herself to approach the captain’s quarters and couldn’t help but feel as if Caspian was to blame. And in honesty she couldn’t have been more right. ”You left me….. He was going to kill me and you…. You left me! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU’VE DONE!?!?!?” Her sorrow filled tone raised an octave as she launched from the bunk and grabbed a lantern sitting atop the bed side table, assaulting Caspian with it but doing little damage before he was able to grab hold of her arm. Dried blood had accumulated on the side of his head and down his neck but it was not nearly enough to subdue her attack. ”You have nothing to complain about. Both you and your captain are alive. Remember Estelle, I didn’t have to help you. That was out of my own desire. It would have ended much worse had you attempted to carry out such an errand on your own. You should be thanking me…. And don’t you dare forget your part of the bargain as well. I’m no fool. That child is not that of a god nor is he of fairy blood….. You were planning to take him away from me just as you’d done the first time… I don’t know how you did it. And frankly I could care less. All that matters now is that you allow me to see my son when I please. That is my request.” There was no malice in Caspian’s tone but it did not go without bitter presentation. And such feelings were only contagious around Estelle as she glared up at the imp and watched as his form slowly disintegrated before her very eyes. A dramatic exit at its finest. ”Nine months. Until then, I wish you luck.” She felt the grip he’d had on her wrist lighten as Caspian vanished and left Estelle to contemplate what he had said. But she was in no way prepared to let him leave without speaking against his demand, opening the door to the room as if she might catch him in the hall lurking about only to find that this time the imp had truly gone. It was unknown how long Caspian had known of their son’s rebirth but such matters no longer mattered. For as soon as the door had been opened she could hear the crew scurrying about in search of bandages and medical supplies, undoubtedly looking to treat Alaric’s wound. Caspian’s parting words could wait. Right now, she needed to look after the man she’d placed her loyalty into should he still choose to have her.

                                                                              ”The captain. Where is he?” The deckhand looked up at her with a dull expression before scratching his beard and nodding down the hall towards the slightly ajar bedroom door where Eager could be seen leaving with a good handful of bloodied cloth. Already Estelle could feel her heart pounding against her chest at the thought of entering the captain’s quarters only to find him in just as bad condition as he’d been after leaving the island of wolves or when she’d found him in the middle of the village square in Weknox. She knew it wasn’t as severe as either as he’d already gone with a bullet to his arm because of her. But with the way she felt, he might as well have been. ”Alari-…. Captain.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper as she placed a hand upon the door but did not immediately enter. Instead, she stood there for a while longer, watching him through the opening before averting her gaze to the floorboards beneath her and gently pushing past the doorway and quietly shutting the door behind her. It was difficult to will herself to turn around as she knew not how this man felt towards her presence after all she’d burdened him with. But before she could manage to ask, her words came flooding past her lips as she turned around to face him and the tears began to build just as quickly. Forcing her to hold them back with all her might. ”I’m sorry…. I’m so sorry I didn’t mean for this to happen. And had I known that you would get hurt at my expense… again….. I wouldn’t have done it. I care. I do. A-A-And I know I said otherwise beneath the docks of Weknox but that was only in fear of….” In fear of what? She no longer understood what it was she’d been afraid as surely losing him was the only thing worth fearing. ”It was a mistake. Like many I have made. And I know I’ve given you reason to cast me out in place of someone anew. But know that my intention was not to endanger you but to help you in pursuit of your mother’s cure. I know it may be hard to believe given all that has transpired over the past week but I know now that my place is not there…. It is not in Moriel beside the prince nor in any other kingdom. The gods have placed me here for a purpose, as you have said before. I cannot leave. Nor do I wish to less it be by your hand.” Estelle was kneeling now at his bedside as she’d done in the inn three nights ago. But this time her words were far more pleading. Never in all her life had she felt so vulnerable. And yet she felt no shame. She understood now that there was a time to fight and a time to ask for forgiveness. Right now just happened to fall under the latter. ”Please… let me stay….”


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                                      Alaric had lost a bit of blood, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. The problem was the bullet that was lodged inside of his left shoulder. And it was certainly the most painful thing he had ever experienced. He would have rather had his eyes clawed out by pigeons, than have Eager going at his arm with a pair of gloves and metal tweezers. Jolly was on his left and Sophie on his right, holding him down upon the sheets of his bed while the cook worked. The bosun had in his other hand a bottle of rum, which he occasionally poured over the wound. It made an unnerving hissing sound, that Alaric would mimic involuntarily due to the sharp pain in caused. But it did numb his senses momentarily and help with the communicability that the process was causing him.

                                      After he was free of the metal, Sophie wiped his chest with a towel as his crew cleaned up his room and got rid of whatever tools they had used to remove the pesky bullet. His blue eyes watched the young girl curiously, as she climbed up on the bed, very willing to assist in his recovery. Albeit, it seemed she was shying away from his gaze. He reached up wearily with his right hand, across his body, and patted her roughly on the head like he might a pet, which made her bounce up and down slightly. She giggled softly and offer him a pat as well, before speaking. "You must really care about her."

                                      Alaric thought for a moment; although he knew exactly who she was talking about, he did not want the others to hear their conversation. For her knew that after he had gotten shot for her a second time, the crew would still be reluctant to accept his attachment to the former fairy. "She is special to me."

                                      Sophie nodded, focusing on sopping up the blood that oozed from his injury. He would need stitches. But he had done that himself plenty of times. And preferred to do the same this time around. "I hope...that one day. You'd take a bullet for me." Her lips curved into a smile, as did his.

                                      "Oh yes. There will be. You women are nothing but trouble."

                                      She nodded, leaning down to hug him quickly before jumping down off the bed and rushing to give Jolly the rag to be cleaned. The bosun took her hand and tugged her toward the door, where she offered her captain a wave before the two disappeared.

                                      Eager was the last to depart, bidding Alaric a farewell with a sigh. "You know, it might be time we got a doctor. If you die, the crew will blame me."

                                      He waved the man off weakly, figuring there was really no reason for such an addition. He trusted him. And that was something he couldn't buy. "You did well."

                                      The cook bowed his head, his face running red. "Thank you...captain."

                                      When all were gone, Alaric finally settled in. His pain had not left him, but he figured that until he found a healer the wound would be a bother. Therefore, he sat up in his bed and gathered some needle and thread from the drawer nearby. He poured some more rum on the opening, and shuttered at the agony it caused before he sanitized the needle as well, and got started on sewing his flesh together. It was a gruesome process, that made the captain clamp his teeth together, but the deed was finished quickly.

                                      However, just as he was putting away his own tools, there was a soft call that could be heard from behind his door. Alaric knew it to be Estelle, and he said nothing-- knowing she was likely to come in. And she did. She entered awkwardly, her back turned toward him, before she finally turned around-- revealing to him her puffy eyes and moist cheeks. It wasn't the first time he had seen her cry, but it was the first time he felt moved by her emotions; the words that followed, only proceeded to make that movement worse. She had dropped to her knees mid speech, and shocked him even farther as her plea could be heard in the heavens-- not because it loud, or boisterous, but because it was humble-- lacking all pride.

                                      Estelle had come to him without defense and Alaric felt touched by her vulnerability. Still, she had disobeyed him. He hadn't given a direct order, but leaving without his consent, and allowing Caspian on this ship-- it was inexcusable. So he eased himself up from his bed, to take her arm. He yanked her to feet wanting to reprimand her, but as soon as their eyes met he was at a loss for words. This woman was beyond beautiful, especially in this state. It made him feel strong and in charge as there was something oddly mystifying about how quickly she had changed-- how she submitted. She did not merely tolerate him-- she desired to stay here. She wanted to prove her worth. And here he was, ready to only address the bad; it was a quality both Olivera and his captain had. He had always hated it, but never thwarted himself from picking it up.

                                      "I was never going to let you leave in the first place." He breathed, releasing her. "I came here for Sophie. She's a fairy oracle, and was being used by your prince for his selfish gain."

                                      Alaric swept by her, facing away from her now as he moved across the room. "That was a really stupid thing you did. Running off with that...ugly man to...I don't know--" He placed a hand on his desk, feeling slightly dizzy. "But I understand why you did it." The captain ran his finger over the bridge of his noise, trying to sound less annoyed. "If your worth is ever in question Estelle, I will just kill you, and put you out of your misery...or-or I'll just say it. I'll say...'ESTELLE YOU ARE BLOODY USELESS.'" He sighed. "I told you that I saw favor in you. I didn't say it because my head was under your skirt. I said it, because it's true. So next time you want to go hunt an orc, take me."

                                      It hadn't come to his attention that Caspian had vanished mid fight until his mention. "So where is he? The father to your child? Is he on my ship?" Alaric dropped his hand to his wound and groaned. "He's not welcome here, I hope you know that lass... I'll ******** eat that b*****d." Hunching forward, he looked out of his window at the night sky, whilst the ship started away from Moriel. "He left you... If you had died...I would have hunted him like the vermin he is, and squeezed his head until his eyes popped out..."

                                      The man wasn't fully in his right mind. But that didn't make his words any less true.

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                                                                              ♦Estelle was beside herself with both anger and admiration as it was brought to her attention that the captain’s purpose for having returned to Moriel had not been to rid himself of her, but to save another’s life. She had seen the young child clinging to his leg prior to having boarded the ship but hadn’t made much sense of it until now. It was the girl from the day of her execution. The one he had used as hostage in order to sway the actions of her mother and the prince into abiding by Alaric’s demands. How the captain had known of the child’s mistreatment was beyond Estelle but she found his desire to put his own quest aside for the sake of sparing another to be far more admirable than his will to put up with her. This was a child. A little girl no less. She would be of no use to Alaric even with her powers as he needn’t use such where they were headed. No this was out of compassion. Out of mercy. So why was it that he hadn’t told her as much sooner? Why let her suffer in thinking that she was to be handed back to the very man who had desired her demise? She wanted to strike him for being so pig headed as to allow her to think him heartless but was immediately conflicted by the portrayal of pain in his eyes as he let out a groan, placing a hand over his wound and arching forward before continuing his threats towards Caspian who he addressed as the father of her child. Estelle doubted Alaric had managed to discover the true source behind her son’s miraculous conception, but she simply could not deny that Caspian was the other half of her child. Should she confirm it and yet claim they had no relations prior, he wouldn’t believe her. Already he thought her to have condoned the imps presence aboard his ship without him knowning. And he was in no shape to argue, nor she in the mood. ”Yes, yes of course. He’s gone. He won’t be returning any time soon, I can assure you. Now….. just…Please.” Estelle let out a soft sigh as she wiped her face with the back of her hand and pulled the captain’s desk chair out for him to take a seat, knowing that to demand he do so would only be met with stubbornness. ”Why didn’t you tell me? Why let me think ill of you when I had no reason to? I thought that…. I thought that you’d felt me dishonest. Worthless. Three days, and you couldn’t have said something?” She shook her head in disbelief before sitting on the edge of his desk and mulling over all that had gone through her mind during that time. Even the fleeting thought of killing him was too painful to recall. ”You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” Her words were meant in frustration but her tone held a lightness to it that contradicted her demeanor entirely. Because it was true. He was a piece of work. But Estelle was no longer finding such to be entirely bad.

                                                                              In fact… his desire to hide the true meaning of their visit to Moriel brought up more questions than she could be bothered to count. And in the end it only added to the mysterious mind of the man she had now openly dedicated her life to. She wasn’t going anywhere. There was still much more to Alaric than she knew. And she was dead set on figuring him out. ”Sophie…… It’s a beautiful name. Given one wouldn’t find the bearer of such aboard a pirate ship… But I’m sure you’ll be a marvelous father. And she’ll certainly have more uncles than she can count on one hand.” She was teasing him, of course, but decided to hide as much by serving him a look of seriousness as she crossed one leg over the other with her arms following to do the same over her chest. ”You have a big responsibility ahead of you, you know. She’s going to need a basic education. Learn her fair share of politics and money. Geography won’t be a problem…. And I’m pretty sure the facts about life will be easily covered in nine months, if I’m still useful around that time. She’ll need her own room. And clothes. Lots of them. Hair brushes, ribbons, scented soaps, dolls, books….. The things any little girl her age would want. And of course, gowns big enough to fit you as well. She’s going to want to play dress up and have tea parties. You’re going to have to humor her.” Already she could feel a grin sweeping across her face as she eyed Alaric with a twinkle in her eye. Estelle only meant to make the man nervous but there was something about the image of him catering to the small child that made her heart melt. ”But most importantly, you’re going to need to smile.” By now Estelle had pushed herself back off the edge of the desk and approached Alaric with a look of mock sympathy as she patted his face as roughly as he’d done to her so many times in the before. Working her way over to his bed and pulling back the covers so that he might rest and fluffing his pillows as one did for an ill child before bed. She didn’t see any point in keeping him up any longer. ”But fear not, my captain. You’ve found favor in me, and in an expression of finding such in you, I will help train you to become the fiercest of fathers.”

                                                                              There was no telling how a child like Sophie would turn after being raised aboard a ship of pirates. But if it was true what Alaric had said then a life in his company was far better than whatever it would have been back in Moriel. The kingdom had been corrupted by its heir. It was beautiful, powerful, and appealing to those living on the outside. But after having seen all that she had and the outcome of one man’s abuse of power, she wasn’t sure what sort of future there was for Moriel. Kingdoms divided by selfish leaders didn’t last long. It was only a matter of time before it ended up like Nithrill. Cold and heartless. ”You should rest. It won’t do you or that child any good if you continue to strain yourself. It’s late. I think you’ve proven yourself heroic enough for one day. And if I at some point during the night feel the need to alert you to any desire in the slightest to hunt an orc, I’ll let you know.”


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                                      Alaric thought about her words, as she moved around the cabin, seemingly trying to prepare him for a proper night's rest. But he knew better than that. Estelle merely wanted to keep herself busy. This was a strange conversation for the two to be having, and it was a change of pace-- given that they were often bickering. In honesty, he quite liked it that way. Things seemed easier when she was looking at him with disdain her eye and skepticism on her tongue. However, she wasn't the only one to blame. Alaric had gone easy on her-- that in addition to his wound left her with no reason at all to regard him with malice.

                                      Yes, he wanted to earn her favor. But it was revealed to him that he had when she emerged out of the trees with an orc in tow. There was no man of on his ship would have thought to deal with such a creature in such a small number-- moreover, without the captain's consent. If he had any doubt, she had left his mind clear. This was in deed an act to prove her worth. Albeit, it had not been his intention to make her feel she had to risk her life and that of her child's to prove it. Although his mind didn't stay on the important details long. Whose child she was bearing should have been of no concern to him. And yet, the fact that she did not deny that it was Caspian who had planted the seed made Alaric feel slightly sick. He had laid no claim to this woman. It was likely it had happened the very day of her execution, given they had history together. The imp had his way of popping in and out, making it very possible that they had mated in her cell.

                                      Whatever the case, the captain preferred never to think on such things again. But the topic of children was hard to shake. Estelle had gone right into the duties of a father. And he was left with a look of utter terror on his face, as she proceeded to speak of things like tea parties! He certainly wasn't a man who would be known to teach any child in his care such a thing. More importantly, he hadn't even decided that allowing Sophie to think of him as a parental figure was a smart idea. It might have been better to leave her in the care of his mother once she was cured. Still, he could see that the idea of another female on the ship made Estelle feel less pressure. She could very well be in charge of doing those things for the girl.

                                      Alaric dropped his hand from his chest, seeing some crimson oozing out from between the stitched as he moved around the side of his desk, once she had left him to make the bed, for something to dress the wound. With some simple cloth, he used tape to create a square bandage over the injury, before finding the strength to properly address her. She was trying to be clever. He knew that much. She was demanding he do something, without actually... demanding it. "You have a bad habit of telling your captain what to do."

                                      He groaned, closing up his drawer and looking toward her where she stood at the bed. "I would make a good father to no one, being as I was raised by two women. Sophie will spend her time with you and Jolly. You haven't been given any duties on this ship, at least not any permanent ones, and since you refuse to do the service I've asked of you-- I'll leave you to do those...things..." He waved his hand as if he were shooing away a stray animal; his other, remained pressed firmly on his desk for support. "Every one in my crew has a name, and since they believe you to be mine and mine alone-- you will be referred to by the title of Mistress." Alaric paused. "I assume it's better than being called my whore."

                                      He moved toward her, his palm falling from the wooden surface. "As for my reasons for not telling you...well they are mine. Albeit, I am not a man who readily hides things Estelle. If I have ill intent, I express it. If I'm displeased, I will tell you..." The captain was close now, his fingers reaching up to lift her chin so that he could be sure she was listening.

                                      She had a piercing gaze, one that made wish she didn't shy from his bed. Her rose colored lips were plump, and perfect, and therefore he was left wanting... "Nor my desire to have you." His confession was hardly audible, beneath the impressed breath he had let escape his mouth as he looked down on her.

                                      "This outfit suits you." Alaric said suddenly with a grin, before turning and starting toward his door to depart and ready his men for dinner. "I won't be resting Estelle." He informed her promptly, with a flick of his wrist which could be seen over shoulder. "And neither will you. Tonight we celebrate. I am only one giant away from victory. You should help Eager prepare a super, and bring it onto the deck."

                                      With that he exited the chamber, and started down the hallway to find Stout. The crew would have many questions for him. He knew as much, especially after today. A get together was just what he needed to pull his crew back into order, and make it known that Estelle, nor Sophie would be leaving his side.

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                                                                              ♦Just as Estelle had suspected, Alaric was wary of the idea of having to raise a young child. But not necessarily for the reasons she would have thought. The captain hadn’t directly rejected the idea of being a father but rather expressed a certain lack of confidence in being able to do so, blaming his insecurity on the fact that his own had been absent and in turn he was left to be raised by two women. And yet despite this Estelle had seen the man treat others with more compassion than most. Surely there was a part of him that was stern, brutal, and in some ways barbaric, but it was always towards those deserving of it. There was a demeanor about him that demanded respect. And it wasn’t until now that she’d been willing to give it to him. And seemingly more. ”Mistress….” She had a name. Yet the crew seemed hell bent on addressing her as ’whore’. If she were given a choice between the two she would have most certainly have chosen the title the captain now sought fit to give her. And admittedly, there was something about it that caused it to roll off her tongue with ease. He’d given her two things thus far. One being a child to look after and the other, a place by his side. A home. Although she wasn’t accustomed to the idea of either Estelle found herself in agreement nonetheless and smiled at the thought of being able to love not one, but two children. She hadn’t so much as spoken to Sophie as of yet but she looked forward to getting to know her. Perhaps in the process, she might learn more about herself as well and what kind of mother she could have been….. what kind she could be. ”If that is what you ask of me then I accept. I will do my best to make her as comfortable as possible, though….. I don’t suppose you wouldn’t mind teaching her a thing or two about firing a gun when she comes of age? After all, you are the best shot on this ship. Does it not seem fitting?.....” Estelle’s lips parted into a smile after having uttered the words but quickly withdrew the expression as Alaric grew near. There was something about the steadiness as he approached and the way his body seemed to almost glide past the distance between them that sent her heart racing and it wasn’t long before he was hovering over her. His cool gaze meeting her own as he addressed the matter of his secrecy and the decision to keep his intentions for not having told her the truth behind their arrival in Moriel aloof. His fingers graced beneath her chin and Estelle felt her brow knit together with uncertainty as she examined his face, watching as his lips moved in an almost slow and hypnotic pace and noting how strands of his blonde hair fell neatly forward and to the side of his brow. It had been easy to ignore before but now that she had opened up to him, accepted the man into her life, she could not deny that he was incredibly attractive. Intensely so.

                                                                              His voice was hidden beneath a breath as Alaric again admitted to his own desire for her and in that moment Estelle felt herself feel somewhat lenient to the idea that perhaps… she might feel the same for him. It was a strange realization and not nearly as surprising as she would have thought, making her actions all the more skewed as she felt her hand reach up and brush against his arm. Her body leaning forward and her eyes growing heavy as her lips parted. But before she could further her slow advance onto him, the captain spoke up in regards to her attire, causing the fairy’s eyes to open fully once more and glance down at the bodice wrapped firmly around her torso. She moved to look back up at him but upon doing so she only found that he’d gone. Wandered off towards the other side of the room and waving a hand dismissively as he spoke of delaying rest for a meal in celebration of his upcoming victory, bidding that she help Eager prepare the feast before abruptly leaving the chamber and in turn, leaving Estelle bewildered, embarrassed, and confused. She had never before recalled having found an attraction to a man strong enough to quite literally force her to radiate his way as she had with Alaric. And yet despite this he seemed unbothered or in the very least he hadn’t so much as noticed her willingness to be near him. Then again she couldn’t blame the man. She’d denied him on numerous occasions and although they hadn’t all been openly addressed, Estelle was quite certain that she had communicated as much through looks of indifference and an overall lack of interest in him in general. So much so, that it was likely impossible for her to obtain such attention now. She wasn’t even sure why such would matter. It wasn’t as if the man was open to the idea of starting a relationship with her nor was she certain that such was what she wanted. She wasn’t entirely sure what she wanted for that matter. All she knew that part of it had to do with him[. And as unusual as that may have seemed any other time, it almost came naturally now.

                                                                              ”Perhaps I should have asked him to stay. It’s not like he would have listened anyway but at least then he would have known. Surely he too must have felt something. You just don’t say such things and then walk out without feeling…. Well…. something!” A loud schk rang out as Estelle decapitated one of ten fish she’d been given to prepare on the cutting board in the kitchen. Eager was bringing the stew to a boil and slicing vegetables while the scent of freshly backed bread rolls began to waft from the kiln beside him, all the while nodding slowly as he listened to Estelle blubber on about her encounter with Alaric and continuously beheading victim after victim before the cook was forced to bring her another batch in fear she might move on to more lively targets of choice. ”But he didn’t say so much as a word in regards to it after! He left me standing there like….. like an idiot! I bet you he’s laughing about it now. Telling Jolly about the look on my face as I leaned in. He should have kissed me. I would have kissed me. You just don’t tell a woman you desire her and then dismiss yourself from the room. He’s pursued me before…. So why is it any different now? Is it because I’m pregnant? Have I already lost appeal? He said my gown suits me….. But does that even mean anything if you just leave? He was smiling. Maybe he was lying to me to make me feel better….. No that’s not right. He said that if he felt displeased with me he would tell me. So then what is it? Have I already gained weight? Do I look as though I have?” Another fish head went flying onto the floorboards as Estelle briefly put aside the knife and turned to Eager, watching as the man glanced over at her waist, pursed his lips, and shook his head in disregard. It was not her weight. And in earning confirmation Estelle immediately resumed her assault on their meal. ”I don’t wear makeup. My mother said I looked perfectly reasonable without it. What do you suppose that means, perfectly reasonable? That I look perfectly average? Or perhaps just attractive enough not to be an eyesore to society? What if that’s it……. What if he’s looked at me for far too long and thinks me average? I could try to put on make up but then what if it only confirms the crew’s view of me? What if I look like a whore? I suppose I could do something with my hair as well but I’ve never been too skilled when it came to such tasks. I could curl it….. But then I might look as if I’m trying too hard….. Have you ever had this problem?” For once she allowed herself a moment to breathe but it wasn’t until Eager looked up at her from the carrots he’d begun slicing that he realized she was expecting a response to which the cook merely smiled sheepishly with a shrug. ”No miss, I’m afraid I can’t say I have.”

                                                                              ”Then you’re lucky Eager. Never trust men. They’re assholes…. Except for you, of course. And Jolly…… I guess Alaric too…… sometimes…. THE LOT OF THEM. ASSHOLES.”


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                                      Her actions hadn't gone unnoticed by Alaric, he just didn't know how to interpret them. Therefore, Estelle had no reason to worry that he was making light of what had just occurred between them in the confines of his cabin. As a matter of fact, it was his own confession that was on his mind. He staggered almost blindly up onto the deck and then up the stairs on the upper, port side of the Sea Dragon. He was scrambling through his thoughts, trying to decide if his pursuit of this woman physically was even in the equation anymore. It wasn't that she didn't appeal to his senses. Surely, that was not the case.

                                      The woman still stunned him with how effortlessly engaging she could be. The dress did not make the woman, nor did the hair or the eyes; Alaric was undeniably drawn to what she had inside. She was made up of a great deal of things that most of his crew lacked. Estelle had heart, mixed with an abundance of courage and perseverance that made him desire her-- however, it was no longer entirely physically. And he likely wouldn't have noticed the change, if he wasn't forced to separate from her after an intensely emotional moment.

                                      He knew there was work to do, and yet part of him wanted to turn around, go back to his room, and lock them both inside of it. Strange thing was, he didn't care if they were naked or not. Just as long as he knew she was safe, and wouldn't flee from him again. She had agreed without a complaint to helping Sophie get adjusted. And in addition, the woman did not shy away from his touch. As a matter of fact, he was quite sure she was rather content. It was a change from the first time they had met, but it was indeed a good one. Alaric knew now, that she had lied about not seeing any favor in him. He merely wondered if she had changed her mind about becoming more...intimate...

                                      Perhaps he was focused on the wrong thing, given the circumstances, but he couldn't shake the tingling in his arm from where her touch had lingered for a time. He felt like something was wrong with him, yet had no intention to correct it. Although he had never quite felt romantic for any woman in thirty years of living, Alaric was not naive to those around him. He had seen feelings bloom in the strangest of situations. Of course, those women weren't in love with someone, and pregnant with that man's baby. Whatever she made him feel, he would have to set it aside. At least until he could figure out where she stood with the imp. The man had much more important things worry about. Right? Right. So why was he pacing back and forth behind the wheel, creating a friction with his feet that could have lit the wooden planks beneath him on fire.

                                      "Captain, is there something you need to talk about?" Lank asked, glancing over his shoulder as he stirred the ship.

                                      "No."

                                      "Alright. Well is there something I can get you...do you need to use the bathroom?"

                                      Alaric stopped abruptly, his eyes meeting his quartermaster with a seriousness that shouldn't be tested. "Now is not the time for jokes. Where is Stout?"

                                      "I'm right here, sir." The man said, appearing from the stairs with an eyebrow raised. "What is it? How is yer wound?"

                                      Alaric rolled his eyes and turned, folding his arms across his chest with a huff. But not without wincing slightly from the pain. "I need to gather all the men. I want to celebrate our victory."

                                      Both the first mate and Lank exchanged glances. "What victory is that?"

                                      "I am only a giant away from curing my mother. And I don't want to crew to start losing their morale."

                                      "It may be a bit late fer that." He sighed, rolling his shoulder back in approaching the captain. "You have brought two women onto this ship."

                                      "Just do as I say!" Alaric snapped, although he knew that the man was right. The crew was losing faith in him. He was risking himself for Estelle, and had taken them off course to retrieve Sophie. He seemed like he had lost his mind. Nevertheless, he knew how to make things right. The man was a valiant speaker. It was the sole reason why so many of the crew had gotten behind him in the mutiny of the prior captain. He knew how to lift the spirits of these people-- he just needed to gather them all together and inspire them to continue on.

                                      Unfortunately, he couldn't do that if he had a heart attack. Alaric made the mistake of looking up, only to find Sophie sitting on the rail of the crow's nest, her feet swinging idly as he looked through Jolly's telescope. The boy was nearby, but he was hollering commands, and would not be able to catch her should she fall. "For the love of-- SOPHIE GET DOWN!" He cringed from a jolt of what one might compare to being struck by lightning, and waved his hand in the air for her to see. She didn't removed the telescope from her face however, just shifted it downward and waved back with a brilliant smile upon her face. She was still filthy from the hike, shoe-less, yet still just as adorable. He had to admit, she would likely grow on him.

                                      "Oh captain, no need to worry. I am watching her." Jolly called, his back turned to turned to both Alaric and the girl.

                                      In frustration, he could only give a deep sigh before Stout interrupted with more useless attempts at getting the man to back of his plans of having dinner with the crew. "Tonight is there night to relax, sir. They gamble. And you know how you hate that..."

                                      "I don't care. Tell them to bring it all. I'll join them if I have to." Alaric eyed his first mate with a hint of annoyance, before the man simply threw his chubby hands into the air and sauntered off to make his captain's plans known.

                                      In the meantime, he adored himself in a chocolate colored, fur hood-- which loose material only covered his shoulders to clasp in the front. He then returned to the balcony to watch Sophie, and oversee the set up on the main deck. Three rectangular tables had been set up, as well as another more square one for the sake of gambling-- such as card games and dice. Alaric was a fan of neither, as he use to live a life half drunk and broke because of it. He knew, just like the lore of a woman, he couldn't hold out against his old habits unless he avoided them completely. So upon becoming leader of this ship, he had bid that crew take their bad habits elsewhere-- for his own sake; he liked to have a clear head.

                                      Unfortunately, that was exactly the opposite of what he was experiencing right now. His mind was at best, murky. And he wasn't feeling like himself. And yet, despite this, he managed to pull himself together in an hour-- just as the crew was beginning to slowly converge in the center of the vessel. The balcony Alaric stood upon was above the quarter deck, and resided over the main deck, which was right in front of the old captain's chambers. It was a place that was forbidden to the crew. He had kept his old room, and in ten years he had never gone to look through the man's personal processions. Alaric didn't know what he was afraid of finding out about him-- but it wouldn't be long before the Sea Dragon was left to someone else anyway. They could dictate what happened to the belongings once he retired.

                                      "My fellow mates, I agree this was last minute, but we have done this less often, it seems, the closer we get to victory. And the closer we get to victory, the more my motives are questioned. And I will not have talks of mutiny among you." Alaric looked down on the crew, as his men shuffled for seats, muttering 'aye' under their breath. "There are men still to be judged for crossing me only a few days ago. I fear if someone does not die every week, the lot of you will start to think I'm getting soft. And I believe such is the case now. Not only that, but I have added two new additions to this crew...and there will be a third. You will simply have to adjust accordingly, as these three will mean a great deal to me, and the success of this mission."

                                      His eyes shifted, as Stout came and stood beside him for support. "Estelle, has been known as my whore, but that title no longer suits her. She set out on her own this morning to bring me an orc, and was successful. Therefore, you will referred to her as my mistress. As for the child, her name is Sophie. I am adopting her as my own. She is gifted by the gods with foresight. And such will be useful in the future. You will refer to her, as Sage. All of you have names, now so do they."

                                      "And the pregnancy sir... what of that?" Trigger asked, sloppily sitting himself down at the end of one of the tables, his large body threatening to break the wooden stool in half.

                                      "Trigger, do not speak while the captain is still talking..." Stout rebutted harshly, the light in his eyes flickering.

                                      "Yes, sir." The gunner replied gruffly, rolling his eyes.

                                      Alaric continued, "As for Estelle's pregnancy. I assure you, I do not make babies so quickly. The child is likely not my own. But that is no matter. It will have a place here. Like the lot of you. And it'll likely be more grateful." He offered them a sly grin, to witch some of his crew laughed out loud in response to his joke. "What is most important is that you know how close we are to Rivdar, and fulfilling our dreams." The crew howled with approval, realizing that such was a truth. "So tonight, I'd like us to celebrate these additions to the crew, as the gods continue to bless us and bring good fortune!"

                                      Stout lead the men in a cheer, before they broke off to start the festivities. Alaric watched with pride, feeling the weight lift off his shoulders as some brought out the cards, dice, and rum-- while others gather their flutes for music. Surprisingly most of the food was already on it's way up, but his eyes had yet to spot Estelle among the chaos... "Captain, I brought yours." Stout said, reaching into the pocket of his dark cloak and revealing the handcrafted flute his mother had given him. "You should play. It use to do good fer you as a boy."

                                      The other's hadn't started yet, but as Alaric took the instrument in hand he couldn't help but feel obligated to oblige him. Their eyes met briefly, as he brought it to his lips and an eerie sound left it's mouth. It ran over the ship like waves over the shore, as the men began to sing to it's sad, yet strangely uplifting melody-- lead by none other than Stout.

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                                                                              ♦She hadn’t the slightest clue where these feelings had come from, and so suddenly, but in that moment she no longer cared. The only thing that seemed worthy of her attention as she scrambled about below deck was the occasional apology uttered as she ran past crewmen coming to and fro to help set up the night’s festivities. Estelle on the other hand was more concerned with her appearance and her captain’s abrupt lack of interest in her. Never before had she cared much for being wanted by men. But this man….. ”E-Eager!” Her mindless searching came to a halt as she burst into the kitchen once more, her eyes pleading and desperate as she approached the cook and startled the ladle he’d been holding right out of his hand. ”Yes?......” Bemused by the interruption but nonetheless helpful, Eager returned her gaze with one of suspicion as Estelle began searching through his kitchen. Paying little mind to the man’s hesitance to condone her prying about. ”I need something. Anything that might serve to make me look….. more……. Well…..”

                                                                              ”Presentable?”

                                                                              ”I don’t look presentable?!?!?”

                                                                              ”No no no! I mean yes! I mean…… The captain’s room! In a small trunk at the bottom of his wardrobe beneath his past…. Company’s….. clothing. It’s a small box with the belongings of those who’ve come and gone. I’m sure you’ll find plenty of use to you in there-“

                                                                              ”Thank you!” And with that Estelle raced back out of the kitchen and into the captain’s quarters where she began her assault on the man’s wardrobe, flinging garment after garment out and onto the floor before at last finding what it was Eager had spoken of. It was a plain, old, dusty wooden box and otherwise insignificant in every way had it not also been the very thing she felt she needed to help aid her in the fairy’s quest to entice the man once again. Estelle had never been fond of the idea of wearing another woman’s clothing, especially those belonging to the women who bothered to adorn themselves in such minimal attire. That being said, putting use to what wares they had left behind was an all new low for her. But she wanted to be noticed more so than she was worried about what illnesses plagued the items within the box, and therefore immediately grabbed a new ensemble before making for the bathing room to begin her transformation. Her hair was the first to change and by far took the longest despite how simple it appeared once she was finished. And ten to twenty minutes later, her face followed. Estelle shimmied into the crème and black corset she’d picked up and made haste in slipping on a pair of stockings and lace heels to match, rushing back out and to the kitchen just as Eager was parting with the last dish of the night. ”No no, here. Let me. You go on and have fun.” The man, albeit unphased at first, immediately did a double take as he eyed the woman with a look of confusion, embarrassment, and discomfort before nodding quickly and handing the dish off to her so that he might turn away. Estelle didn’t at all feel pleased by the reaction she’d gotten but it was not Eager she was trying to impress. Not once had she ever thought herself to be a woman to put herself together as she had this night but then again she’d never thought herself to be trying to sway the desires of a pirate either. Nonetheless a captain. She knew not if there was a right or wrong way of going about such a pursuit as she only had the garments readily available to her to judge buy. Surely the women who had worn them had looked this way. And given that there were so many, she could only assume that such was what Alaric desired. It wasn’t necessarily comfortable, but if it was enough to at least get the man to pay her more thought then surely it was worth it was it not?

                                                                              By now the Sea Dragon had erupted into song found to be both sorrowful and full of spirit. And in the midst of the choir of voices, a flute could be heard gently fluttering over head. As she emerged from the stairwell Estelle was greeted by the sight of lanterns hanging about in a simultaneous glow that sent a warmth across the deck and over the men as their voices rose above the heavens themselves. Never in her life and she experienced such bliss. But it was present here. These men were barbarians, thieves, murderers, and liars of the worst kind. Yet never before had she felt so at peace. Estelle moved towards the back of the middle table, placing the dish to the side and taking a seat as her head rest atop her palms as the song continued on. Smiling, as it came to a gentle and yet robust finish and ending with a mass of cheers and the clinking of mugs as the men filled their glasses and collided them with one another in celebration. The fairy’s own fixation however was on anything but those around her. Instead, her gaze lay upon Alaric, watching as his fingers danced across the beautifully crafted instrument he held twixt his fingers and slowly withdrew herself from the crowd. Before she could so much as register as to where her feet were carrying her, Estelle found herself approaching the stairway up the side of the deck and to Alaric’s side where her hand graced the railing. It was no longer the need to obtain his attention that pushed her to act as she did so much as the desire to be near him as surely he was a man of many mysteries and thus, all the more divine in her eyes.

                                                                              …..

                                                                              Divine. She’d almost forgotten… Her purpose here was not only of her own, but the will of the man’s father as well. A god. And in turn that made the captain a being of power as well. Was it wrong? Was it wrong to yearn for him as she did? Surely such feelings had gone unintended by Ares… Had he been aware of this development of desire for his son the god certainly wouldn’t have placed him in her care….. But how could she possibly distance herself? Even now Alaric was more to her than just an image. His soul enticed her. His personality… although blunt and rough around the edges… beckoned her to come closer. It was almost uncontrollable. ”You play?” The words were out before she could stop them and it didn’t take long before more followed. ”I was unaware that pirates had such finely tuned voices. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. There’s a lot I’m still learning about the lot of you. I didn’t think you knew how. N-Not that I’m saying I didn’t think you couldn’t. I just….. Between the bloody battles and the whole….. captaining a ship full of dangerous men I didn’t think you’d have the time.” It was embarrassing just hearing herself fumble about but not nearly as much as it was knowing that she was the one saying it. It was as if all cunning and witty banter had evaporated and instead left her with the awkward, unsociable form presented before the captain now. But oh, was he marvelous. And it wasn’t merely his change of attire that made her think so, even though it did add a manner about him that made him seem all the more attractive…. If such was possible. It was almost painful staring at him for such a prolonged amount of time without knowing what it was he thought of her and her own outwardly changes. It seemed to have been enough to catch the eyes of a few his crew in the least.


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                                      When Alaric had finished his song, Stout left him with a smile that spoke volumes, in order to return the instrument to it's home. It was a treasured object, the only thing he had to remind him of his mother when he sold himself into servitude at the tender age of thirteen. Those years had been hard, but he wasn't alone; he wasn't without a teacher. Stout was a good man. To know he had practically raised the captain, and yet worked under him with such pride, was the mark of a saint.

                                      At the moment, Alaric was full of emotions. Many things factored in, but his mind kept going back to one. Estelle. Every since her arrival a week and a half ago, he had changed. He felt different. And he didn't think it was necessarily a bad thing. Of course, the more death on the ship the better, but he didn't even had time to contemplate such things with her around. She made his life exciting. Albeit, it was already full of adventure, but not like this. He didn't feel the way he felt about his men, when it came to her. Surely, she could handle herself, but that didn't matter. Alaric felt like he had a duty to protect this woman. He felt honored to have the gods give him such a treasure when they saw fit to disregard it. Yet he was weary about the imp. There were images in his head that he just couldn't shake-- of them running off together. And he would never speak it, but his fear that she would leave again was almost unbearable at this point.

                                      Despite the clank of beverages, and the cheers of his men, he was feeling terribly sullen. That is until he heard the voice of an angel. Estelle's presence had somehow managed his escape him until she was standing right by his side. And when he turned to address her, an uncontrollable grin played across his lips as she fumbled over her statement-- only to find that this was not the same person he had left behind in his chambers. She had...done something different with her hair, and her face was painted. In addition, it seemed her skirt had gone missing.

                                      Alaric had indeed been attracted to Estelle before. She was a reasonably beautiful woman without any work having been done to her. But now...he was at a loss for words. His once smug expression transformed into awe, as his eyes took in her hour glass shape, ample cleavage, and coral colored lips without a single breath leaving his own. Never in his life had he seen a more stunning creature. And part of him desired to say nothing at all, simply take her hand and lead her back to his chambers. It seemed whatever doubt he had that he may only be emotionally attached to this woman had fled him-- completely.

                                      Alaric knew that she hadn't done this for him. But to keep up appearances. If the crew were to believe she was his mistress, she would have to dress like one. Therefore, he furiously attempted to pull himself together, before the heat rose to his cheeks. Every part of his being wanted to crumble beneath the allurement of her charm. However, he knew better than to be the fool. It was easier not to mix business with pleasure. It seemed after all that yearning to have her, he now worried what such might mean. Surely there was no woman he would rather be pressed up against-- and yet, that was that which frightened him.

                                      "I do." He admitted finally, as he brought his fist up to his mouth and cleared his throat, leaning forward on the balls of his feet momentarily. "I see that you forgot the bottom half of your attire." His hand fell by his side, whilst he smirked at her. "Such is a reward exceptional enough for even a man as spectacular as myself. I like it." And he did. He loved it. He burned with lust for his supposed mistress. Moreover, so would his men. Which meant they would no longer question her presence here.

                                      "My...my mother made that flute twenty years ago, when I was lad. I left to serve on this vessel, and she gave it to me so that I would have something to remember her by." Alaric's eyes fell to the ground and he swallowed hard, recalling some of the most heartfelt moments between he and his first mate. "Stout taught me to play when he was but a swabbie."

                                      In honesty, he would have preferred to go on about more of his own personal stories, than inquire about hers. But with her standing before him, looking like this-- he wanted to claim her. He had never shied away from doing so before. So why was he hesitating now? Was he afraid she would think him cruel? Well then so be it.

                                      As his gaze wandered over the main deck, he could already see some of his men eyeing her with nothing but perverted thoughts on their minds. "You would think this lot has never seen a woman before..." Alaric grunted, as he found her stare. "Be careful walking around like that, Estelle. You were right about me captaining a ship full of dangerous men. Not all can be trusted..." He reached out, his hand gliding over the smoothness of her bare forearm as he wrapped his fingers around it and yanked her forward. The action wasn't rough, but it was gentle either; there was a mixture of aggression and passion in the way he pulled this woman toward him. His body hoovered over hers, as her corset brushed his chest. "...not around someone like you...but they know that they are forbidden to touch you..."

                                      Alaric didn't know much about kissing, so although this may have been an ideal moment, it was lost to the sound of the crew calling for him from the card table. "Come on cap'n, it's not time for that yet! Take'er to yer cabin after you've played a hand!" One called, glancing up to see if the man had heard. And he had.

                                      "Do not worry, lass." He said, his voice barely a whisper as it rumbled up from the most wistful part of his soul. "You are always welcome to sleep in the bathtub." Alaric winked at her, knowing such a place was where she had made her home. "I will get you your own quarters." The captain was aware that she would need one, as would Sophie. She made it clear that his bed was not an option.

                                      "Come, you should indulge in drink and mingle with the crew." His hand, which had practically burned a hole in her arm with it's warmth tugged her insistently as he led her to the stairs. "I use to drink every day when I was younger, and gamble...but it became a crutch for me. I did it whenever I felt trapped, which was all the time. I try to stay away from it now...but I would be willing to have one with you...if you'd like?" He shifted his enticing crystal blue gaze sideways to her with a mischievous grin, in the hopes that she would accept.

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                                                                              ♦"Yeah well…. I figured if I wore it the same way as the last woman, I’d likely end up reminding you of her. And I’m not so certain that would have bode well for me.” In truth, she had forgotten it. The bottom piece of the gown had been strewn about the floor with the rest of the garments she’d thrown out of the wardrobe and left to crumple beneath the mass as she hurried out the door. But between the praise and looks of approval, Estelle couldn’t be bothered to feel embarrassed about her attire. Alaric seemed to fancy it. And really that was all that mattered to her. Thankfully such thoughts were forced to be put aside as the conversation was directed onto a more honest topic. It was strange, despite having been born a god, Alaric was of humble beginnings. Not once had he mentioned a home of great wealth, a prosperous family, nor a life of spoilings. How it was that Ares had chosen Alaric’s mother to bear his seed was a mystery. But surely such a woman was worthy. For even as she was mentioned now, Estelle could sense that she was loved dearly. No matter how long it had been since Alaric had last seen her their bond had not withered. ”She sounds like a wondrous creature. And if she birthed you then I’m certain she’s just as beautiful….. I hope to meet her once she is cured. And I’m sure she will be looking forward to hearing you play when you see her again.” A smile arose amidst Estelle’s words as she leaned over and gave Alaric a gentle prod with her elbow, slowly growing all the more comfortable in his presence and yet dismissing her indirect compliment on his appearance. ”You should do so more often.” It was odd to think that even in the most unlikely of places, love thrived. Alaric was adored by his men. Perhaps not all of them…. But there was a handful in which she could see admired him greatly. He may have gone a time without the affection a child deserved but it by no means had weakened him. In fact, Alaric was one of the few strongest men she’d ever met. Almost too much so for his own good. As even she knew that to deny ones self weakness was to deny being human…. Even as she looked around her now, there was not one man she felt reasonably comparable to the captain. And it was only then that she became painfully aware of the looks she was receiving.

                                                                              Estelle met Alaric’s stare as he went on to mention the attention she was receiving from onlookers but did not find it nearly as appealing as she did when beneath his own gaze. Her face was flushed and already she could feel the uncomfortable feeling brought on by her situation returning. But in hope of making it through at least one night as she was, she pressed on. ”Well to be honest captain, as ‘spectacular’ as you claim to be I’m afraid it’s not enough to outshine a woman. Don’t worry. I’ll try not to take up all your lime light.” She jeered but her attempts to amuse him were immediately put at bay as he expressed his concerns in having her walk around amongst his crew. It was unsettling. And yet not nearly not as much as his touch as the man grabbed hold of her forearm and pulled her close. Estelle’s lips parted in abrupt surprise but found herself speechless as her torso collided with his. The warmth of his body radiating onto hers and his eyes burrowing into her own as words spilled over his lips and washed over her. ”Someone like me….” She repeated and just then an ache flooded her body with such intensity, she thought she might give way then and there. It was a desire. One to press her lips to his and bask in the sea of emotions simmering beneath her skin. Already Estelle could feel her hand rise and brush over his bicep. Her fingertips twitching to merely touch the side of his face so that she might bring him closer and fulfill such yearnings. Surely he knew she wanted as much. He would not dared have spoken to her the way he had if he had not thought it would lead to this. Was this not as good a timing as any?........... But it wasn’t. In fact just as Estelle’s lips parted wider and her hand graced the side of Alaric’s cheek, a voice thwarted her attempts and beckoned for the captain to partake in cardplay. Bidding that he do as he pleased with her once he had played hand. A familiar sense of bewilderment choked the sparkle out of Estelle’s eye as it was immediately replaced by a pout. She’d been wrong. The man hadn’t the slightest clue what she’d wanted. As despite having been given the chance he quickly discarded her notion in an attempt to reassure her with promises of giving her a room of her own lest she still wish to sleep in the tub.

                                                                              The fairy scowled up at the man halfheartedly as the other half sunk into the pit of her stomach at the thought of being separated from him if even for a night. As if that wasn’t enough, she was even encouraged to drink! And had she not been pregnant she would have gladly used it as an excuse to drink away her sorrows. Yes, Alaric was surely clueless as to the inner workings of the female mind. In fact she was beginning to think that she’d been right. Despite finding approval in her apparel, the man still found no interest in her. Instead he was treating her like a friend. She hadn’t known as much before…. But Estelle longed for more than that. It wasn’t just a small encounter she was after. Sadly the poor b*****d was too thick skulled to see it. ”Its tempting. And any other time I would have been more than happy to take you up on that offer if only to get you drunk enough to make you sleep in the tub for once…. But I’m afraid that wouldn’t sit very well with my other half…” She muttered with a weak smile as she rest her free hand on her stomach in further emphasis of her words. ”But by all means don’t let me stop you. It’d be a shame if one of us didn’t drink enough for both. Besides….. You say you’ve played before so that means you’re experienced. Pity me some and allow me the advantage. It’ll only give you more to brag about if you win drunk. And don’t worry.” Estelle cut herself off shortly, grabbing either sides of the man’s fur capelet and bringing him down to her level just low enough to allow her to steal a quick kiss before taking a seat around the table. ”I’ll be your crutch.” He may not have granted her the moment she'd sought before... nor the one in his room... But that did not mean she would refrain from taking it from him given the chance. Even if it was only a fraction of what she'd hoped for.


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                                      The kiss she placed on upon his mouth, no matter how brief, sent a cheer rippling through the deck like wind from a hurricane. The men at the table were happy to hear that their mistress approved of the captain drinking and gambling with his crew, for it was likely he wouldn't have indulged in either had she not so charmingly insisted.

                                      Estelle was wrong. He did find interest in her. So much so that, that the taste of her lips lingered upon his own much longer than it had the first time they had shared a kiss. For it seemed he wasn't the only one who had changed. The woman had always been spunky; of that he was certain, due to how quickly she managed to respond to his quips.

                                      He was touched by the words she spoke about his mother, and if there was anyone he wanted her to meet-- it was Estelle. She may not have been much more than a friend, but Alaric felt this relationship to be a turning point in his life. In addition, he had both Stout and Sophie to bring her as well. So hopefully, she wouldn't be too upset that he hadn't made great time in delivering on his promise. Despite this mission being virtually impossible for the average person, the captain knew what he was capable of-- especially when it came to his mother. Alaric owed her everything, she was his reason for being.

                                      "Aye, surely such...activities, wouldn't be good for the pregnancy." He replied as she pulled away from him, agreeing to be his crutch should he need one. His eyes watched her like that of a lion stalking it's prey. They traced over every line of her body, until he was left with no choice but to drink-- it was the only way he was going to keep from admitting that he desired her right here and right now.

                                      His men had seen his eyes light up when she teased him so, and they laughed clanking their full mugs together once more over the game of cards they had scattered upon the wooden table where Estelle had taken a seat. "You better hurry and get the dice. This one is going to make us have to throw some cold water on the captain." One of the men chimed to Trigger, who was at the head of the table. The man didn't seemed overly delighted, but he didn't have a great deal of personality. He made weapons all day, everyday. And Alaric simply assumed it was in his nature. Still, he offered his captain a smile as he came and sat next to Estelle, plunking a pouch from his waist and sitting it on the table. He couldn't very well play the game without any coin-- only one man was going to walk away from this wealthier than he sat down, but certainly all were going to leave rich with rum.

                                      Already Eager had plotted down a fairly large beverage for the captain in a tall glass. Alaric glanced curiously to his right at Estelle, who had bid he partake in enough for the both of them, before taking the cup in hand and downing it in front of his crew. Like wild animals, the men howled and stomped their feet until he slammed it back down on the table. The sour taste left his mouth dry and his throat burning as he was left slightly grimacing, but reached out hand into the middle of the table anyway and wiggling his fingers for the dice.

                                      "You know the rules, Cap'n." One of the crew said. He was on the left of Alaric, an eye patch over his eye and missing teeth to boot. His name was Sniggle. He was a rotten, middle aged fellow who worked under Jolly. "If ya roll an odd number, all but seven, ya pay everyone at the table a coin. If ya roll an even, we pay yew, all but twelve. Seven means we pay double, and twelve-- well that means yer turn is over."

                                      The captain didn't particularly like those odds. But his face was too hot to object, and he didn't want to look so frugal in front of Estelle. He had willing given up his coin to her in Weknox, but that was for business. Although he didn't readily search for treasure, he did happen to like money. And that was part of the reason he hated to gamble. What he had, he worked hard to earn. However, it wasn't long-- maybe five or six drinks later, before the men were simply taking advantage of the poor man.

                                      Alaric seemed far too drunk to care about the money he was loosing. And after the entire table of ten had rolled and won their coin-- he had lost every round and still had more coin to give out-- and give it out he did. He was standing at this point, one hand flat on the wooden surface-- his fur hood having abandoned him some time ago. His blond hair was starting to get matted to his face from the way he was sweating. Dice required no real physical activity and yet he was tired and fatigued.

                                      The rum had gone straight to his head, and Estelle was becoming more and more irresistible by the moment. The men had caught the captain stealing glances at her for so long, that Flint simply got up and left out of frustration. It took him almost a full minute to do something as easy as releasing the dice. His blue eyes were trailing her lips, nose and cheek bones without so much as a word as to why.

                                      Most of the crew had retired by now, but there were still nine in the circle, they didn't want to miss out on free money. "Captain, maybeh you should stop. I don't think you're going to roll a seven."

                                      Alaric swallowed, his gaze shifted from Estelle to Trigger with indigence. "How would you know?"

                                      "It's been two hours."

                                      "Hey! Let 'em think. He's thinking...right captain?" One of the men said, with a grin on his face. He knew very well that Alaric wasn't thinking about anything but impressing Estelle. She was a distraction... "Go on. We'll wait."

                                      "Last roll, make it count." The gunner breathed, obviously exasperated, but also very entertained by the Captain's drunken state.

                                      Given the go ahead, the man leaned forward-- blew on the dice and chucked them across the table only to have two sixes looking back up at him. "Thank the gods that's over." Trigger said with a chuckle, as the other men joined in-- laughing as Alaric plopped back down in his seat. His pouch held about ten coins, out of the thirty he started out with.

                                      The group prepared to depart, ready to mosey back to their cabins when the sound of Alaric's fist hitting the table stopped them in their tracks. He might have a been intoxicated, but clarity was never too far from him. "Where are the lot of you going?"

                                      "To bed..." Risk said, yawning.

                                      "Not without paying me."

                                      Trigger frowned. "For what?"

                                      "Oh yes, let me see. For your rooms, food, clothes...this bloody table, the stool you were sitting on...HEY WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU LOT LOOKING AT? You see my pouch, fill it up." The men groaned, rolling their eyes as they formed a line and walked one by one, dropping some of their winnings into his pouch until it was overflowing-- then they sauntered off below deck with grumbles of how unfair he had been. And once they had gone, he merely smirked at Estelle in triumph. "It always pays to be in a position of power, lass. Quite literally."

                                      His eyes lifted momentarily to the crows nest, where both Sophie and Jolly had fallen asleep; he gave a heavy sigh. "I'll take you to your room. And then I think I might actually get some sleep." He got up haphazardly, almost knocking the entire bench over-- before leading her below deck, and then to the end of the hall and down another flight to the lowest area of the Sea Dragon.

                                      Closest to the staircase was a quaint room, one that had been set up for his mother should she had ever joined him on the ship. "I will see you in the morning. And don't wear that, the deck will need to be scrubbed, and I did not forget how much you like to clean." He reached up and patted her roughly on the cheek before turning and going up to his cabin. There Alaric removed the metal rings on his arms, his boots, and his gantlets, before climbing beneath the sheets and falling asleep.

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                                                                              ♦The night was plagued with cheers and laughter followed by the clinking of glasses as the men around her indulged themselves in drink. And they weren’t alone. Alaric too had his fair share if not more by her request. And it didn’t take long before the man’s actions were skewed by the alcohol in his system. He was a terrible bet and not once had he managed to win a round. But Estelle supposed that only made him all the more endearing. Despite the discouragement of some of his men, and the opposite of those greedy enough to take advantage of his state, Alaric never gave up. Again and again he tossed the dice only to have his coin deducted each round until there was naught but ten sitting at the bottom of his pouch. Still, she could only smile at him. His lingering stare had not gone unnoticed and it was by far the most infatuating thing she had ever had the pleasure of receiving from a man. The way his glossy blue eyes looked back at her, not directly into her own but everywhere else besides, was hypnotic. Had it not been for the varying forms of annoyance over the man’s obviously distracted state Estelle might have even coaxed him closer verbally. It was unusual for her to feel so bold and part of her wanted to believe it was nothing more than the effect of dressing so. But she knew better. Something about wanting this man made her all the more daring. Brave even. Perhaps it was due to the fact that the need for him was so strong, not only in a physical sense but an emotional one as well. She wanted him to feel the way she did about him for her as well. To know that she wasn’t alone in such confusion and inner conflict. Unfortunately her ‘bravery’ did have certain boundaries. And there hadn’t been anything profound to push her to speak past such limitations openly. As far as she was concerned the only one who understood the extent of her frustration was Eager to which she had faith the man wouldn’t say a word. Unlike the rest of the crew who seemed adamant on speaking their minds. ”I don’t know boys, sounds to me like someone’s scared of that final roll. This one could be it.” By no means did she think that the last roll of the die would be a winner. But that didn’t mean Alaric didn’t have to think so. There was something charming about the stubbornness he held in this light even though such a trait hadn’t been attractive before when it was directed at her. Still, she wanted to make sure he knew that she supported him just as she’d promised. Even after he failed to win his lot as both dice struck six. There was a wave of relief amongst the captain’s men as they began to rise, gathering their winnings and turning tail but not before Alaric could stop them. The captain ended their retreat with the demand that they pay him, gesturing towards his empty pouch and sitting down as if to further prove his point. And albeit childish, Estelle could not help but laugh.

                                                                              Once the pouch was filled and coin spilled over the lip and onto the table the captain happily pocketed his gain before turning to her to address the manner in which he’d won… Despite it having been through an unfair advantage. But again, Estelle was too pleased with the manner in which he had occupied the game staring at her to dispute it. ”The man that never loses. I don’t suppose that would be too bad a reputation. I’ll keep that in mind, should I ever come in possession of a higher rank than whore. I heard swabbie’s get better bathtubs.” She joked and trailed her gaze up as she stood beside him to take note of the two forms sleeping peacefully atop the crows nest. A soft smile split her lips as she glanced over at Sophie’s small frame and felt her chest throb with affection from the site. Surely the girl was the image of innocence. Unfortunately it didn’t take long for such a sweet moment to be ripped from her as Alaric got up and announced his own intention to go to sleep…. But not before showing her to her room. Estelle’s brow knit together and her lips pursed into a silent pout as the man moved for the stairway and descended a second, her shoulders slouching as he came to an abrupt stop just beside the bottom of the rail and opened a door that led into a small, unique room that otherwise would have drawn her like a moth to a flame…… had her heart not already been set on sharing a bed with the captain. Estelle looked up at the man with large pleading eyes but went unseen as he dismissed himself and left for his own quarters, leaving Estelle standing in the hall in a state of frustration and sorrow. She did not wish to be left alone. And given how far below deck the room was it only served to make her feel all the further from the captain who’s room lay the first story below. But she did not call out to him. No, Estelle refused to give in to such petty attempts. If Alaric hadn’t the decency than to take into account her desire to stay beside him then she would not press the matter further. And so, with a burdened mind, the fairy shyly slipped into the room given to her and climbed into bed.

                                                                              The night grew dark with the passing of an hour and such only felt all the more suffocating after having extinguished her lantern. There was something eerie about being so close to the bottom of the ship that didn’t sit well with her. But not nearly as much as the idea of the warmth provided by the captain having gone unused. Estelle tossed and turned atop the bedding but despite the softness provided by the fur pelts and silk threaded sheets, she found no comfort in them in the absence of Alaric. It took approximately another four minutes before the woman officially decided to abandon the room entirely and by then all the lights in the hall had been put out. She was horrified. The idea of stumbling into the wrong room, falling down the stairs in her current state, or worse yet running into another crewman after what Alaric had said just earlier that night on deck….. it terrified her. And so it was with great care and caution that she slipped out and down the corridor, slipping her fingertips over the smooth surface of the wall until she felt the railing beneath her palms and began her ascension. The sound of deep snores, grunts, and muttered curses as the crew fumbled about in their beds behind closed doors only pushed Estelle to quicken her pace as she pattered down the hall in bare, stocking covered feet. Her heart raced as she climbed the last flight before at last spotting the captain’s bedroom door and sending her mind blazing with cheers as her fingers gently pressed against the frame and slipped inside before closing the door softly behind her. Now that she stood amongst his sleeping form, there was a split moment of doubt in fear. The thought of him awaking to find her slipping into bed beside him sent her bubbling with hesitancy. But so did the idea of returning to her room. And so without further delay Estelle moved onto the other side of Alaric’s bed and prayed to the gods that such actions did not displease neither their son nor themselves as she slipped beneath the sheets and gravitated closer to his warm body. He reeked of alcohol. Yet that didn’t seem to stop her from pressing her head against him as her mind slowly drifted into unconsciousness. Her arm lacing around him before she fell fast asleep with little regret and little regard for what troubles her lack of restraint would lead to in the morning.


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                                      Alaric did sleep, but not nearly as peacefully as he would have liked. He preferred to have Sophie where he could see her, but he knew that Jolly was someone she had taken a quick liking too. The boy was young, and kindhearted as they came. She was safe for now, but he couldn't help but worry. Not only that, but this was the first night in many days that he had come to an empty room. Even if Estelle had a habit of locking herself in the bathing room, he had to admit that knowing she was at least behind the door gave him a strange peace of mind. Allowing her such freedom was not at all a bad thing; he did want to show her that he thought her a member of his crew, but he feared that not having his eye on her would lead to his unrest.

                                      And if that weren't enough, his body was yearning for companionship. It had been such a long time since he had a woman-- and now he couldn't even think of stopping at a port and bringing a whore on board. Of course there was no need to show respect to Estelle. She had made her position of sharing a bed quite clear, but rather for the sake of keeping up appearances. If the crew thought that Estelle didn't please him, they would surely do away with her. And it was likely he would never find the culprit. The man couldn't very well punish the entire crew either, or there would be no one to man the ship.

                                      In honesty, he was frustrated all around. But the alcohol helped, and eventually he drifted off into a much deeper sleep than he thought possible. However, Alaric was a man who was alert even in his slumber-- and the creaking of the floor boards just outside his door, brought him into a state of consciousness without much effort. His eyes shot open, but he did not sit up-- just in case he wanted to keep the element of surprise. He knew most of the men were in a drunken stupor, and perhaps one had accidentally found himself at the wrong end of the hallway.

                                      Yet, despite all his theories of who, or what the noise could have been-- he did not at all expect to see what he saw. As a matter of fact, the captain could have sworn that he was still dreaming. His desire for Estelle was strong; but he didn't think it powerful enough to conjure up a likeness this real-- an image that nearly stopped his heart. The room was dark, save for a candle on his desk, and the light of the moon as if shown through a circular window adjacent to his bed. But her silhouette was not hard to distinguish. She crept around to the opposite side of his bed, as he closed his eyes curiously-- wondering if all this time she had been waiting to intoxicate him in the hopes of taking his life whilst he lay recovering. Only to find that she lifted the covers and slipped in next to him.

                                      Alaric fought the urge to swallow the lump that had grown in his throat during her approach, as this was not something he had expected-- not from her. And it only farther perplexed him when her arm fell over his midsection. The captain did not move; he certainly did not breath. Not until he could feel the rhythm of her chest change. There was a concern building in him that this was all a cruel joke. He knew not how, or why-- but the idea of turning around to find she wasn't actually there, made his heart ache something serious. Still, he found the courage to do so. Alaric shifted and rolled over on his back, turning his head to see the peaceful slumbering face of an angel whose head had now moved to the nearest pillow.

                                      She had brought him more favor with the gods surely, however he found that such no longer mattered. It was for those reasons he fancied her, but not at all the reason he desired her. Estelle was unpredictable, smart, and fiery. And had they met under different circumstances, he would have seen to make her his own in a much more dignified manner. Although he had never seen much shame in the term whore, now he hated it. She was not at all such a thing. This woman was beyond beauty, beyond words...and he was left captivated by the lullaby of her breath. Her skin was fair, her nose pointed and her lips...her lips made him want to reach into the heavens for the stars.

                                      How could he continue to harbor these things knowing that she made him feel this way? Why had she come here? To torment him with the idea of her with the one she loved? And what of her child? He knew not. There had been time to ask, but he had been so wrapped up in himself-- he forgot to inquire about anything she was feeling. It was in this whirlwind of thoughts, that sleep crept back in. And soon Alaric had drifted off into a slumber.

                                      He woke at the first caress of the sun, his form still laying beneath Estelle's arm. He sought to rouse her. She had duties, and such were to be done at first light. But she looked so peaceful, that he lost all will to allow her to leave his side. If it pleased her, he would have allowed her to rest all day. And such leniency would likely get him into trouble. What his crew thought of him, was important. Estelle, however, was worth a bit of disturbance in the order of things.

                                      Last night in his skewed state of mind, he hadn't quite been able to wrap his head around what was happening here. But now, he thought he knew. She was coming around to the idea of laying with him. Surely that was it. And this was her way of showing him. The crew would certainly understand that her duty to him...well that came first... Unfortunately, he was no longer looking to be rewarded. His 'desire' was something else entirely.

                                      He rolled over to better face her, his left hand coming up to brush the rose colored center of her right cheek. "Estelle...if you're not on deck by now, I assume you're going to earn your keep here in my sheets somehow?" He whispered softly. The man was not foolish enough to think that one time would staving off this yearning for her. What he felt was unique to anything that came before it. His hand slipped down to her shoulder, where he drew lines with his thumb, before it slipped just underneath it and wrapped around her torso pulling her closer to him abruptly.

                                      "This isn't much of a night gown is it, lass?" He admitted, looking down on her with eyes just as hungry as they had been the night before. "We'll be making port by noon. You should get yourself something that falls below your waist." Alaric was teasing, a small grin falling over his sleepy expression. He leaned in, closing whatever small space was between them and kissed her forehead, his lips lingering between strands of golden hair that tickled his chin. The scent was enough to intoxicate him all over again.

                                      "I gave you your own room...why did you back here? It's dangerous traveling this ship at night. I told you my men...they are not to be trusted." His mouth laid on her forehead, as he couldn't find the energy to pull away-- mostly because he didn't want to. The man's arms were like noodles, softened by their closeness.

                                      "...Estelle..." His tone had changed almost completely, the smugness had fled it; leaving him vulnerable. "You shouldn't sleep here..." Alaric admitted finally, not sure what had brought about the confession. "I do not want to come between you and the man you have decided to have a child with. You may be called my mistress. But we both know that is a ruse for the sake of the crew..."

                                      What if that was the only reason she came? To keep his men from being suspicious.

                                      The captain was happy he did not have to look her in the eyes, for he might have taken it back immediately, and demanded she do away with the imp. But there was a part of him that truly wanted to allow Estelle happiness-- if it was in his power to do so. She had saved his life...he owed her. "You have proved your worth. Sharing my cabin is no longer...necessary..."
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