Alwyn
Alwyn spun around, slicing the air with her sword. Lanterns swayed on the deck, creating enemy shadows. She could feel the gazes of Mick at the helm and Fynn in the crow's nest but she ignored them. With each thrust and parry, she felt her emotions boiling to the surface. She fought faster and faster, battling invisible adversaries.
"Little Duchess," Isla said. "You can not let your emotions control you, you must control them."
Alwyn grabbed her mother's words and clung to them, but with each cut her frustration grabbed her. Five days. Five days on the ship. That was all it took. Alwyn stabbed the wind. It wasn't even five days. It took mere moments for her entire crew to be taken with the Princess. Five days merely solidified their loyalty. Loyalty Alwyn worked for but never seemed to gain. But with one look from Lydia and the crew appeared ready to fall on their swords for her.
Just as they would follow Wilder, a boy soldier they only just met. As Alwyn performed a perfect uppercut, she found her annoyance towards Wilder didn't last long. After the command he'd shown and the impressive way he handled the attack, she understood the awe he inspired. Even if grudgingly.
As for Zavier...
Alwyn lunged forward, piercing nothing, but doing it with as much force as if she faced a real attacker.
She didn't want to think about him. But he seemed to always be in her mind, living there like he had since she'd first found him in the cargo hold. She ground her teeth, performing even quick strikes.
She'd trusted him, even when she knew she shouldn't. He was a nobleman, nothing they said could be trusted. She'd grown up with the stories of her father's father. Heard the viper-like environment of the court. But still, he'd smiled at her, joined her life on the ship like he'd been born from salt, sea, and sand.
Five days. Five days she'd watched him as he devoted time to the Princess. His betrothed. He showed her the same caring sympathy as everyone on the ship. Everyone except Alwyn. At the thought of her coldness, Alwyn felt shame rush over her like a wave. The same shame she'd felt when Wilder had called her out for her actions towards Lydia. A girl who'd lost everyone and everything.
Disgusted with herself, Alwyn whipped her blade out of her boot and hurled it at the ship. It landed in the railing with a solid thunk.
She dropped her sword, breathing heavily, staring at the darkened sea. The almost black color brought to mind Zavier's eyes. She gripped the sword hilt harder. Five days and nothing had become easier for her. It still hurt to see him. To see him with her.
"Are you done defeating your demons?" Zavier asked.
Alwyn tensed and didn't turn around. "Pick up your sword and we'll see."
She couldn't turn around because she knew what she'd find. A version of him that she knew best, that was dangerously easy to love: coat fitting his shoulders just so, an expanse of dark skin revealed by his unbuttoned shirt, his curls wild, blown about by the wind. She hated him.
"I would," Zavier said. "But Joric said he would kill me if I got within a foot of you when you're holding a sword."
"Because he knows I would do my worst to you?"
"Yes. But seeing how you have been avoiding me these last few days, I am starting to think that I am experiencing the worst."
Alwyn sheathed her sword and strode over to the railing, yanking out the dagger.
"Then you are feeling a fraction of what I do."
She held the blade between both hands, staring at the metal that captured fragments of moonlight. Zavier approached her. With the wind at her back, she caught the scent of him, sun, and sea.
She tried to guard her heart against him, but how did you guard your heart against someone that already lived inside its walls?
"Wyn," he said, quietly. "Will you ever forgive me?"
"No, I told Cyrus I would give him my right hand if I ever forgave you. I prefer my hand over you."
"That is fair," he said.
When he leaned against the railing, hands clasped, Alwyn stole a glance at him. It was a mistake. He seemed at home on her ship. He gazed out on the water with a contemplative expression.
"I never meant to hurt you, Wyn. Truly. I do not fault you for your anger towards me. I never should have asked..." He dragged his hand through his hair, upsetting the curls even more. "I thought I could outrun who I am. What my title is. But I can not and so many have paid for it."
He lowered his head, his knuckles white with his sorrow and regret. Alwyn softened even as she wished she could remain angry at him. Because knowing she still loved him hurt twice as much.
"I never said it," she said, keeping her back to him. "But I'm sorry for the loss of your men. I knew how much they meant to you. How close you were."
For a breath, Zavier didn't speak and Alwyn darted her eyes to him. His mouth formed a firm line and he blinked hard, fighting his grief.
"Jayis died from a blade meant for me," he said, his voice rough. "That stubborn old man thought I was worth more than him." He swallowed hard. "They all thought I was worth dying for. They are fools." He turned his head away from her. "I do not have to tell you that I am not worth the price of anyone's life."
Shame and guilt escaped with his words. Alwyn found herself growing frustrated again with him. Frustrated with how he proved himself so different from what she could imagine any royal to be. Soldiers weren't lives to be thrown away to him, they held value.
How was she supposed to forever hate him when he kept giving her reasons to love him? Especially when he was promised to someone else. When he would never be hers.
"At least you lived to help save the Princess, therefore saving a kingdom," Alwyn said.
She said it even though it felt a bitter taste in her mouth. It was a reminder to herself and him that whatever peace they might find now would amount to very little.
"I do not even get to claim that," he said. "Wilder saved her. I was saved by Joric. Pulled away so I could not fight alongside my guard."
At his admittance, Alwyn found the heart of his guilt. It was more than his soldiers dying for him, it was the fact that while they stayed, he'd fled. She knew it was pointless to offer words of comfort, so she said nothing.
Neither of them spoke for a long while. Alwyn battled memories of when they'd shared stretches of silence between them, where no words needed to be spoken because simply being next to each other was enough. It hurt how familiar being beside him felt. Knowing the rhythm of his breathing. Sensing when a thought bobbed into his mind and he wanted to share it.
Alwyn needed to leave before she did something reckless like facing him. As if perceiving her thoughts, Zavier spoke.
"Though I know you would never give up your right hand," he said. "I have to ask, all the same, please forgive me, Alwyn. If not now, sometime."
Alwyn took a single step away from him. She wanted to say that she never would. Say that he'd brought this on himself. But only the latter was true. For a small part of her already forgave him. Because he was stupid, impulsive, and passionate. Same as her, so how could she forever hate him?
He stepped towards her, hovering at her back. "Wyn."
Alwyn closed her eyes, fighting everything in her that urged her to lean back, rest against him, feel the warmth of him.
"Ship spotted!"
Relief. Alwyn almost sagged under the weight of it. The tether between her and Zavier snapped. She raced across the deck, searching for the ship. For the last day and a half, Alwyn had been expecting this. They'd had to leave one Current to find another. That gap when only the wind drove them meant a ship powered by oars would have the chance to catch up.
Clearly, she'd been right and she felt grateful. All her emotions could be burned out of her with a good fight.
Commanding Mick to stay steady, she darted down the stairs and into the lower level of the ship. She stopped at the crew quarters, telling them to wake up, that a ship was spotted.
When she pushed into her own captain's quarters, she paused.
Wilder slept on the floor beside Lydia's bed, his sword within reach. In the light of the moon, Alwyn saw how Lydia slept on the edge of the bed as if trying to be as close to Wilder as she could. More than that, Alwyn noticed the streaks of tears on Lydia's cheeks. Pity for the girl stabbed Alwyn's chest as renewed shame at her actions gutted her.
"Wilder," Alwyn said.
Instantly, Wilder jerked awake, his sword in his hand.
"Easy," Alwyn said, not wanting to get skewered. "A ship's been spotted."
Wilder dragged his hand down his face, wiping away his sleep.
"Very well." He knelt next to Lydia. "Ly, you need to wake up."
He spoke so tenderly that Alwyn felt like she was intruding and left. On deck, the men were armed and staring at the approaching ship. A hum of anticipation buzzed in the air. Alwyn's blood surged inside her. They all knew that this was coming, it had meant they worked harder in training than they ever would have. It meant constant glances across the sea, searching. With the enemy returned, their waiting ended.
Cyrus stood beside Alwyn, his manner calm, composed. It was a trait he'd inherited from their mother. A trait Alwyn knew she lacked. Where he was ice, she was fire.
"Arm yourselves with anything that can act as a shield," Alwyn said.
When the crew appeared puzzled, Cyrus answered their confusion.
"They will have brought archers of their own," he said. "We can't have you die before they even board the ship."
The men scattered to find barrel lids and anything else they could. Laden with bow, quiver, sword, and daggers, Wilder jogged up the steps, his eyes alert. As the ship drew steadily closer, the dip and rise of the oars could be seen, light glinting off the water droplets as they arched through the air. The ship looked like some ocean monster swimming towards them.
"Good idea about the shields," Wilder said, assessing the approaching ship but revealing nothing of his emotions. "I'll be here on the quarter deck. I'll remove as many as I can before they board. But once they do, my only priority is Princess Lydia."
"Wouldn't it be safer to keep her below decks?" Cyrus asked.
"I thought it might, but everywhere is too crowded for a decent fight. And if one man managed to get past me that would be all it took. On the deck, I'll have protection from behind with the railing. I can fight off as many men as I have to as long as I can see them."
"Then we will do what we can to keep them from going only for you," Alwyn said.
Wilder met her gaze. She wasn't sure what he saw there, maybe the regret of her previous actions, maybe the eagerness to fight someone, but he nodded like he approved.
"Let's be ready," he said.
As he left to get Lydia, Alwyn secured the wheel with a length of rope. It was a trick her mother had shown her. It meant that the ship would stay roughly on course but that no one was wasted by tending to it. They were already outnumbered, this would mean every man able to fight would.
When she reached the deck, the crew stood waiting. The air felt heavy with suspense, like the moments right before a storm hits. With the way Wilder had been training the crew, she expected him to talk to them, give them a short word of encouragement like he did the last time. But he stood on the quarter-deck with Lydia. Though Lydia nodded to what he said, her fists were clenched tight with fear.
Alwyn gazed over the crew, trying to find the words of hope that any captain should have at the ready. To her failings, all she could come up with was, 'survive'. Hardly worth saying.
"Pair up," Cyrus said, as he handed Alwyn a makeshift shield. The men divided, linking themselves with the ones that would guard their back.
Cyrus nodded. "You all know we're outnumbered. But from how I've seen you train, I'm not afraid."
The men all straightened, boosted. Simple and impactful. Alwyn kind of hated him for making it look so natural. They'd both been raised under the same strong captain, yet the ease Cyrus had with commanding Alwyn never seemed to have inherited.
Instead, she inherited her father's fierceness, his love of a good fight. Now as she stood by the railing watching the ship surge towards them, she felt the fire burning through her. The sea monster loomed upon them and Alwyn drew out her sword, the weapon part of her like the drumming of her heartbeat.
"Ready?" Cyrus asked.
Alwyn met his eyes, grinning. Cyrus laughed and shook his head.
"I pity the men about to face you," he said.
As if called by his words, the ship swept alongside them. As Wilder had predicted, lining the railing was a row of shields, keeping the crew protected. From the small gaps, Alwyn could make out sneers and angry eyes. A pair of sailors brought a plank forward. It jutted up into the sky before falling forward, hitting the Sea Siren's railing. As the sailors yanked the plank backward, two hooks embedded underneath it dug into the wood, securing it. Alwyn lost her smile then.
"They're damaging our ship," she said.
This time Cyrus grinned. "I don't doubt you'll pay them back for that."
As the attacking sailors clambered onto the plank holding their own shields, archers poked through gaps.
"Archers!" Alwyn yelled.
Their crew crouched and held the barrel lids before them, collecting arrows, the air whistling with the sound. On the quarter-deck, Wilder whipped out his bow and fired on the crossing sailors. From his angle, he shot with deadly precision. Sailors cried out and fell off the plank, crashing into the water. Those that managed to stay on shifted their shields to block Wilder's arrows, but when they did it opened them up to attacks from Alwyn and Cyrus.
Alwyn let fly a dagger and it found a mark in a man's shoulder. He stumbled, hit the plank, and tumbled over. The archers aimed for Wilder, but Sparrow, acting as his partner, deflected their arrows with two barrel lids.
Though the double assault was successful, it didn't last, Alwyn and Cyrus only had a few knives to spare and eventually, men boarded the ship. Alwyn charged at a man as he jumped down from the plank, she met him with her shield, smashing it into his nose. He grunted in pain as blood ran down his face. With another crack at his head, he slumped to the deck. A man swung at Alwyn's neck, but she leapt back and threw her sword up, catching the blow.
She bumped into Cyrus's back and the twins held their position as men swarmed around them. Alwyn threw her barrel lid at a man, it struck him in the forehead and he collapsed. Another man lunged for her, but she twisted out of the line of his sword but closer to him.
She slammed the hilt of her sword into his face, jamming his nose up into his skull. Before the man even dropped, Alwyn fought off the next attacker, parrying his blow and surprising him with a swift kick to the stomach. As he bent double, she sliced her blade across his chest.
Screams, cries of pain, the clash of metal rang in Alwyn's ears, setting her heart racing and her blood pounding. One after the other, she fought, always aware of Cyrus at her back, guarding her against rear attacks as she protected him.
Pain flared up her leg as a blade cut into her thigh. Gritting her teeth, she spun, burying her sword in a man's stomach. A sharp bite pierced her upper arm and Alwyn kicked backward, connecting with a man's chest. Facing one man after the other, Alwyn couldn't tell if their enemies were diminishing or multiplying.
"Alwyn!" Cyrus yelled. "The sails."
Alwyn jerked her head. Sailors climbed the rigging. Giving an angry growl, Alwyn stabbed her way through to the railing. Sheathing her sword, she swung herself up onto the rigging, climbed with an agility etched into her bones.
As she reached one of the sailors, she grabbed the back of his shirt and heaved with all her might. Startled, the sailor lost his hold and plummeted. From above, the deck looked like a storm with flashes of metal acting as lightning. Despite being vastly outnumbered, the Sea Siren crew still stood, even if a bit bloody.
Alwyn scaled the rigging as other sailors moved along the beam, knives in hand. She reached the beam as one man started to cut the ropes holding up the mainsail. Fury towards the man propelled Alwyn forward, she cut at the ankles of a man before her. The man staggered, lost his balance, and fell off the beam, only barely catching himself with the rigging.
Alwyn crossed the beam just as a rope snapped and part of the sail fluttered loose. She kneed the sailor in the head and he faltered. When he rolled over the edge, he threw out his arm, and his dagger caught on the canvas. A great tearing sound filled Alwyn's ears as the sailor cut the sail down the middle. She stared at the damage, furious.
But all that vanished when she heard Zavier cry out and drop to his knees. Alwyn stopped breathing as blood bloomed on his shirt.
"ZAVIER!" she screamed, fear coursing through her.
She raced down the rigging, her heart beating erratically like she'd been the one stabbed.
"Cyrus!" she yelled. "Get that plank off our ship and get us out of here."
Alwyn dropped to the deck and a sailor charged for her. But he didn't reach her before her sword reached him. Alwyn was like the wind, twisting and flying around men, leaving behind a trail of bleeding bodies.
As she reached Zavier, the ship gave a weak lurch, drifting away from the enemy ship. Joric tore through men, his emotions over Zavier wounded fueling his every strike. The fighting petered out as the Sea Siren crew handled the last of the attackers.
But Alwyn hardly noticed, blood roared in her ears as she knelt beside Zavier. She bunched up his shirt, pressing it to the wound. He grimaced and she took this as a good sign, at least he was still conscious.
"Zavier," she said. "Stay with me."
He opened his eyes and stared up at her.
"Fynn!" Alwyn yelled.
The Seau sailor stumbled over to Alwyn, bloody and breathing hard.
"Help him," she said.
Fynn nodded and rushed to get his medical supplies. Joric ripped off his shirt and crouched beside Alwyn, holding it to Zavier's side. Alwyn blinked hard, trying to keep tears of fear away. But one managed to slip out. Zavier weakly reached up and brushed it away.
"Forgive me," he whispered.
Alwyn swallowed against the boulder lodged in her throat.
"Only if you promise me you'll live," she said.
He closed his eyes, his face draining of blood. "I promise."
She felt her heart shattered in a new way. Already she'd lost him once. He couldn't die. Not again.
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"You're mocking me, aren't you."
*Peers over the edge*
Hey did you know there was a cliff here?
*turns back and sees everyone glaring*
Okay, so maybe you did. I should just...
*Jumps off cliff* See you on the other side!
As I journey on, why don't you tell me what you thought of it all? Alwyn and Zavier? What you think happened between them? The terrible cliff hanger I just left you on... 🧜🏽♀️⚔️🛡
Remember you can try and shoot me with your arrows but that will only mean you could kill me and I wouldn't be able to finish the story, so keep that thought in mind.
While you're all angry with me, I would like to take this moment to give a shout out to my silent readers. Each update gets an average of 600 reads. I know about 20 of you from the comments. So to the other 580, thank you for reading! I hope you're enjoying the story!
A question for you reader: Describe yourself as a flower!
Reader question from Greeklove17: Do you get some sick pleasure from making us cry?
Lake-hok ut-tor (Bengali): NEVER! I simply find it utterly delightful!
Just kidding. I don't get giddy making you cry, but I do like knowing that what I've written is strong enough to get a reaction from you. Does that make sense?
Vote, comment, follow cause if you don't, you never know, I might do something truly evil!