VIOLENT TIDES (gxg - editing)

8

For the next four days aboard the Finch, it seemed as though Ainsley was stepping carefully around Gael. Conversations with her were polite, but short-lived and always to the point. Gael wasn't bothered, exactly, but the disappointment she tried to resist was starting to creep up on her. She couldn't say why. Logically, she understood the princess had a right to be upset with her still. Just the fact that the two managed to be civil should have been a blessing. And Gael should've been grateful that the princess failed to get underfoot.

In fact, Ainsley had fought to prove her worth aboard the Finch in a manner that Gael couldn't help but be impressed by. When the captain appeared on deck in the mornings, the princess was there, dressed in boyish trousers and a tunic and badgering poor, bewildered Nathe for something to do. At the end of the day, she retired to the hold, followed closely by the ship cat, looking worn down to the bone just as every crew member did. It was admirable, really, though Gael almost would've preferred her to stay in the safety of the hold. Sometimes she worried the princess would drop dead of exhaustion.

But the work seemed to invigorate her. It was better than allowing her to fall into a depressed stupor. If she enjoyed the way the toil kept her mind off of things, Gael would allow it.

Her favourite had quickly become the lookout shift, however.

Gael squinted up at the crowsnest, unable to identify the figure against the bright sunlight.

"Is that...?"

"Yep," Nathe confirmed, working at pulling at a length of rope from a heavy coil on the deck.

"Again?"

He shrugged helplessly. "She likes it up there. What 'm I supposed to do?"

Gael shook her head, far more amused than anything else. Her smile flickered for a moment. Ainsley had talked about riding her dragons once, hadn't she? This was probably the closest she could get to that feeling. She wished she could relieve the princess of that burden. Sometimes, it felt as though the key were burning a hole in her skin when she touched it. It would be so easy to free her.

But when she looked at Ainsley, the violent anger in her eyes nearly froze Gael in place. If she allowed her to, the princess could- and likely would- destroy the ship and everyone on it. It was too big a risk to take.

Sometimes the anger faded. The crew had started to take a liking to Ainsley, and though their relentless questions seemed to overwhelm her at times, she had become much more receptive to them. In fact, sometimes she even seemed to open up a little bit, face softening into something friendly and patient as she explained some concept to a curious pirate. When everyone sat in the galley, food and ale forgotten in front of them, Gael learned about the noble line of dragonbloods, the dark magic that could bring about a forced dragonblood state, and, if Ainsley was feeling particularly open, the feeling of connecting to the soul of a hunting dragon just in time to experience the thrill of the chase and the way the beast's heartbeat spiked when it dove at a runaway stag. The pirates were captivated, and Gael was no exception. The only one who ever seemed particularly critical was Ed.

He was the one who asked touchy, personal questions that made Ainsley close up again, a wall coming down behind her eyes, shoulders tensing. Gael had learned to recognize what those topics were by now. Her mother and father, mostly. But anything that dug into her- how she felt about something, what she thought- were all shut down immediately. Ainsley's entire personality, everything she thought, was a well-guarded secret.

Gael hoisted a heavy coil of rope over her shoulder, taking its weight from Nathe. She had just adjusted its heft against herself when Ainsley dropped down to the ground, skipping the last several feet of rope and landing on her feet. Gael started. She hadn't even noticed the princess climbing down.

"There's a ship on the horizon," she stated. "It's still far off. I couldn't tell what it was."

Gael scanned the water. Sure enough, she couldn't make out much, certainly not against the brilliant sun that shine back in her eyes.

"Thanks for letting me know," she replied. "There's a good chance it's not coming this way, but I'll need you to go back up there and let me know the moment it becomes obvious they're making towards us. Alright?"

She got a brisk nod in return. Somehow, she felt the princess liked this moment of tension, however cautious it was. Something to break up the monotony of the last four days.

Another hour passed before Gael met Ainsley again, nearly crashing into her as the young noble hurried across the deck. The captain fumbled for her lost grip on the crate she was carrying. Ainsley was helping in an instant, hands brushing Gael's underneath the heavy wooden parcel as she helped right the package, then pulled away quickly.

"They are definitely heading our way," she confirmed. One of the crew members appeared beside them and Gael handed off the crate before hurrying to the bow with Ainsley. Sure enough, she could make out the ship on the horizon now. It was a brigantine, like the Finch, but clearly larger. The sun caught the edges of the sails and lit up the hull, still too far away for the name to be read. Gael rested her hands on her hips and surveyed it critically. She couldn't be sure from this distance if it was a pirate craft or if it belonged to the king- it wasn't a lone fishing boat, that much was certain. Crews of soldiers tended to prefer heavier set crafts with more firepower, though there were always exceptions.

"Alright," she murmured, deep in thought. "Well, at this point, if it's your father's men, we shouldn't have anything to worry about." At some point, Nathe had appeared next to them, surveying the craft with a concerned tilt of his head. "We're not on hostile terms with any of the pirate crews around here, at least none of the ones we've run into before. Chances are, I know the captain of this one. If they don't change course, we can invite a small party of them onboard under peaceful terms to talk about what they want."

"An' if they want a fight?" Nathe questioned.

"I'm trusting they won't. It should be alright, but..." she turned to face Ainsley, who had been quiet. "You're to stay in the hold if they board. Understand?"

For once, she didn't even appear to want to argue. She dipped her head in a reluctant nod, then reached down to pick up the cat coiling around her feet. Gael found herself trying not to smile. There was something almost uncanny about the way the feline always ended up finding Ainsley as soon as she stepped onto the deck.

"Are you sure your dragonblood abilities don't allow you to communicate with cats, too?" She joked.

Ainsley's expression dropped slightly and she put the cat down, brushing the fur left on her hands off on her trousers. Then she changed the subject. "Should I go down to the hold now, or wait?"

Gael stared out across the shimmering sea, judging the position of the other ship's sails and bow. The craft was definitely working her way towards them. She hesitated, then nodded. "You should go now. I'll send in one of the crew after you if they board to let you know, and I'll come get you myself once they leave. Alright?"

Ainsley confirmed again. Gael paused.

"Good work up there, Ainsley. Thanks for letting me know."

Ainsley's features softened, and for just a moment it looked like she might smile. That passed, however, and she offered another nod, then turned to go, the cat trailing at her heels.

Nathe and Gael exchanged a glance as the captain settled her weight against the edge of the hull, examining the ship.

"Should we try to outrun her?" Nathe questioned.

Gael shook her head. "That will invite them to a chase. I don't wish to come off as hostile unless absolutely necessary."

"Why are you nervous?"

Gael glanced at the officer and grinned. "I'm convinced you just enjoy flaunting how well you know me, Nathe."

"I've know you since you were, what, thirteen? Fourteen?"

"Yes, I was thirteen."

"'Course I know you, then. I may as well've taught you everything you know."

She laughed. "Don't give yourself quite so much credit. Clay would be scalded to hear you speak like that. Frankly, I'm offended for him."

At the mention of their late captain, Nathe's face took on a wistful smile. The two fell silent, Gael and her friend watching the faroff ship as it drew closer and closer. Gael's position shifted slightly, and she knew Nathe understood her well enough to notice that she was preparing to say something.

"What would he think if he could see everything I've done since he passed?" She asked at last, tone quieter than usual. A touch less confident. She didn't have to worry about how she presented around Nathe.

The roughened sailor reached for a flask in one of his pockets and uncorked it, turning it back and forth in his hands before taking a drink. "He was proud of you long before he kicked, kid. I don't think that would'a changed now. You've done real good." He offered her the flask and she accepted the drink with a wry smile.

"I'm not so sure I can do good as a pirate, but alright."

"'Course you can. The crew is happier 'n healthier than they've ever been. And jus' look at the way you've been treating that princess if you need proof."

That surprised her. Gael's dark eyes flicked to Nathe as she handed back the flask. "Hm?"

"Well, it'd be easy enough to lock her in the hold until we reach Ellay, wouldn't it? So why don't you just do that?"

"Because she's a person, Nathe!"

"Well, so were the pirates you've killed in skirmishes."

"That's different. Ainsley's not a criminal, she hasn't wronged innocent people."

"Have you?"

She fell silent, clearly uncomfortable. "I don't know. I- have I?"

He smiled again and reached over to tousle her long hair. Gael scowled and reached up to readjust the bandana that had been holding it back.

"I wouldn't say so, Captain. For someone who lives a life of crime, I'd call you a pretty good girl."

Unable to fix her mussed-up hair, Gael finally pulled the bandana free completely. Her dark curls fell back over her shoulders and tickled her face. Her subconscious smile fell away suddenly, replaced by an expression of mock offense.

"I'm hardly a girl anymore. Watch your step, subordinate."

"Don't I know that better than anyone," Nathe remarked, reaching out to give her shoulder a rough shove. Gael returned it without hesitation, then looked out to sea again. The lighthearted atmosphere trickled away, and the captain and her officer were serious once more. She swallowed.

"They are most definitely heading our way."

Nathe pulled himself off the railing. "Yep. Let's prepare to be boarded."