As man hath caused a blemish...

Day Two

He was still asleep when I took him breakfast - fortunately – and the soft whiffle’s he made in his sleep (which yeah, I think is weird as a great Captain of what was effectively a pirate ship should snore raucously but nope, cute whiffly noises it was) would have been funny had it not been for the day before. Still. It was hell on the deck. I didn’t look up from my duties – mending nets, stitching spare canvas or mopping the deck – at the dull bass note of his peg leg against the board or the sound of his voice doling out orders or punishments but the call to ‘down’ caught me by surprise. The roar went up amongst the crew,

“DOWN!” And to my surprise the sound was ripped out of my mouth without any intervention from my brain or any other conscious effort. The sound was rough, raw and most definitely not my voice. As the sea washed over the front of the ship I raced down to my cabin – helped along by the deluge of water – and tried to pin everything down so it wouldn’t float around.

Eventually I managed to pin everything down or shove it inside the cupboards and as I was turning to make sure I hadn’t missed anything what should float past my face but a tiny bright white light. For a few panicky moments I tried to figure out what it was before realising it was attached to me. I grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked it round so I could see it. On the end of each limp strand was a little light…a tiny little round glowing…thing…it was very strange to see. They floated around my head in a kind of nimbus and it was then that I noticed the little tropical fishes hanging around my head, watching the little lights, I tried to pat them away but they always returned…it was very embarrassing. Fortunately it wasn’t too long until we surfaced and the little fishes were forced to swim away, out the tiny knot holes of my cabin.

I was left to retch salt water once again. Wiggs had assured me previously that it would get easier with time but I was starting to doubt him. A hand rested on my back sympathetically and I was handed a rag,

“Thanks” I said, thinking it was probably Rawlings, “I’m sure its-” I looked up and forgot what I was saying. Jones’ expression was totally unreadable but he inclined his head towards the door slightly before turning to leave, I – for once – picked up on the hint and nervously followed him out, wringing out my shirt as I went. I lost sight of him long before we reached top deck. It was dark out and practically deserted on deck. The Night watchman was snoring lightly, leaning with his back against the mast and the helmsman was too busy to take any notice. I spotted Jones leaning against the railing, apparently a favourite spot of his and he turned as I approached, looking at me again with that unreadable expression, “Is there any reason I’m here?” I asked…alright, so that might have been a little cold but he deserved it…right?

“There was something I wanted to show you…before you left” He said huskily. I moved to the railings, standing beside him and looking out over the dark waters. It was impossible to see anything, the dark was so thick that I would have had trouble seeing him if not for the ships running lights,

“So…you wanted me to see…?” I asked, my grip on the railings tightening until my knuckles went white (difficult to achieve now considering they were covered in black scales now) as he moved to stand behind me. He was broad across the shoulders and his coat nearly always hung open – even in this dark coldness…I realised he’d effectively hidden me from the rest of the crew as he leant forward, his hands resting either side of my own. He leant forward slowly, probably aware of the tension in my back, until I felt hot breath puff softly against my ear and – to my complete astonishment – he started to sing. Soft and low and rough and short

“Long ago and far away

There was once a sailor brave

Once ashore he spied a maid

And to that lass, his heart he gave” It was to the tune of the lullaby he played when he was melancholy, I’d often wondered if there was words of if it was just a song. As if on cue, as he stopped, the sky exploded. I flinched back hard, it was so unexpected, and practically ran into him, my back against his chest. He swayed a little but his crab claw hand went around my waist to steady me as I looked up and gasped. I’d been mistaken, the sky hadn’t exploded,

“Oh God, it’s the Aurora Borealis” I breathed, watching the lights – blue, green, pink, orange, yellow – dance across the sky rapidly,

“The Northern lights” He corrected softly, “they used to believe it was the Phoenix’s mating ritual” I turned in the circle of his arms, looking up at him, watching the light dance in those fathomless heights,

“How did you know I wanted to see-”

“You talk in your sleep…and swear” He frowned a little, “and kick”

“Is this your version of an apology?” I asked, brutally honest. Yes I wanted to twist the knife. A lot of what happened the previous day had hurt me and I don’t just mean the slap. He looked down at me for a long moment and I was fixed to the spot, my heart aching as I met and held his gaze for the first time. I could have drowned in those eyes,

“I’m not in love with Tia Dalma” He said eventually. Ok. So talk about avoiding a direct question,

“What?”

“I’m not in love with Calypso” He re-iterated for me, a slip of amusement at my bafflement entering his voice before it quickly faded, “haven’t been for a couple of centuries”

“Why?” I boggled at him, was he nuts? I mean, more insane than I’d previously thought? “She’s stunningly beautiful, clever, powerful-”

“I know” There was something he wasn’t telling me but…I really didn’t want to pry, so I waited again, “there was…something happened a few centuries ago, something was damaged. I lost my ship for a while and she kept me captive” His frown deepened and with a slight jerk of his head he stopped speaking,

“Then why the slap?”

“Just because I don’t love her doesn’t mean I don’t respect her” He said firmly,

“I hate you” I replied suddenly, on impulse, still looking up at him. I wished to high heaven I had a camera then, the look on his face was priceless…I still giggle about it now sometimes, “I hate you with my whole soul” I said whilst in my mind I was chanting, understand, understand what I’m saying, “I hate you so much it makes my skin hurt, when I see you my heart twists with it” I waited, breathlessly, praying he understood. My hands came up, fisting in the front of his shirt…I wonder if my expression betrayed how desperate I felt,

“I hate you too” He replied, the soft burr of his accent causing me to shiver, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “I hate everything about you”

“I hate your voice”

“I hate your hair”

“I hate your beard” I said, winding my fingers through it even as it curled around wrists,

“I hate your smile” He said, running the long tentacled finger over it,

“Yeah well I hate, er, your, um, you!” Our gazes met again and we both laughed – his booming, rich and alive, my own softer and higher in comparison,

“So we’re agreed? We’re the worst of enemies?” He asked, his eyes practically shining,

“Oh indeed, deeply madly in hate” I, no, we had decided…if it was impossible for him to feel love why not something else? I smiled, turning away to watch the lights once more, stepping into the hang of his coat as his arms went around me once more,

“You will have to leave” He said, only the slight inflection of his tone betraying that it was a question,

“We’ll see, Captain” I said softly, resting my head back on his shoulder, “we’ll see”


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A/N : - this is a fill-in chapter. It'll get better...hopefully :s