Green Grass and High Tides
Only a few days out to sea was all it took for Cam to start getting antsy in his secret hideaway. A rarely used storage room in the ship provided excellent cover, and a few shifted barrels meant Cam had a hidden place to sleep and squirrel away whatever food he could swipe from the kitchen. Yes, a few of the crew were suddenly missing pillows and a blanket, but Cam kept his thievery to a minimum so he didn’t draw attention to himself. It was easy enough to avoid the crew when all he had to do was slip through an opening he’d created in the floor or the wall, and the rest was keeping to the shadows. He’d listened to more than a few of his father’s ‘private meetings’ while hiding in the rafters of his office, so doing the same in this ship was easy.
Unfortunately, hiding for this long was Cam’s problem. He was an extrovert- he loved people, he loved talking, and he especially loved sunlight, all of which were unavailable while hiding in the darkest parts of a vessel this size. The closest he came to fresh air was the kitchen, further up the ship, and even that was at night when there was no sunlight to be found. On top of that, he had no idea how long this ship planned to be at sea. The uncertainty made the silence all the more maddening, but then he considered the alternative. The silence, as much as the consistent creaking and groaning of a ship could be silent, wasn’t so bad when the other choice meant he was in chains in some rich bastard’s basement. Some solitude might be exactly what he needed to formulate a plan, or so he told himself, and he pulled the blanket tighter around him.
Adrik didn’t often wander this deep into the ship, but the particular barrel the cook asked for weighed quite a bit, and having supernatural strength meant he was one of the go-tos for such a job. He didn’t mind, it gave him a break from the usual chores of the ship, and he liked the silence that came with the storage rooms. Any outside noise, the activity of the crew members or sounds of the sea, were all blocked out when you came this far down, and it was a good place to relax when Adrik needed it.
The werebear quickly found the room he needed, and it took only a minute of searching to find the barrel. As he placed his hands on the unit in question, he froze as a bright green flick of something long and prehensile flashed around the edge of a nearby container. At first he thought it might have been a trick of the magically flickering lights, until it swayed lazily back into view a moment later. It was definitely a tail, the shape of which he couldn’t place. Adrik watched a series of mirrored appendages – they almost looked like long, dark green scales – flex along the tip.
Curiously, Adrik peered over the first line of barrels, and he was startled to find a man fast asleep among the supplies. How this man had evaded the crew up until now, Adrik had no clue, but even more curious was the rest of the stowaway’s appearance. On top of a bright green tail, long, black horns arched back from the corners of his forehead, and twisted away from his head towards the ends. His hair was about shoulder length and tucked loosely back into a pony tail, and upon closer inspection Adrik realized it was two different tones of green, split down the center. The ends of his fingers looked as if they were stained black, and his nails curled into dark claws.
The longer Adrik stared, the more oddities Adrik noticed. The tattered clothes of a noble were the last thing he would expect. Yet, the vest the man wore, though damaged and smudged with dirt, bore intricate designs stitched in gold thread. His blouse, if it didn’t have a tear in the arm stained with blood, would have been of high quality, along this his mud-covered trousers and knee-high riding boots. This man had been in some sort of tussle, and Adrik could make a few, though speculative, guesses as to what might make a creature like him desperate enough to stow away on a ship.
What an odd one. Adrik thought to himself as he watched the man sleep, and he wondered just how long the wound on his arm had been left to fester. It’d probably need some cleaning….
It was about this time another of the crew came looking for Adrik, having been sent by the cook when Adrik didn’t return in a timely manner. He wasn’t known to dawdle, so he knew someone would be sent after him if he waited long enough. As soon as the door opened behind him, Adrik turned, and he placed a hand over the crew mate’s mouth to silence her.
“Shhh,” Adrik whispered as he held a finger to his lips, and the young woman’s eyes widened in surprise. “We have a stowaway,” Adrik gestured vaguely behind him. “Tell the captain that I will be up with him shortly.” The woman seemed confused but she nodded, and Adrik turned back to the man in question as she left the room.
Another moment of contemplation, and Adrik grabbed a length of rope off a hook on the wall. Then he reached behind the barrels, grabbed the man by the scruff of the neck, and hauled him up an onto the top of a nearby crate.
Cam woke with a start as the world tilted, and he felt himself being moved by a force he had no chance of stopping. He grunted as his chest hit wood, and he fruitlessly struggled to free his hands from the vice grip pinning them to his back.
“H-hey!” he cried out as rope replaced the grip on his wrists. By the time the world stopped spinning and he finally had his bearings, the rope had made it’s way around his forearms, trapping them against his sides. “S-stop– no! I– I can explain-!” he squirmed, but he stopped as the rope suddenly tightened, almost painfully, around his wrists.
“We do not take kindly to stowaways,” Adrik rumbled, putting on an act as best his stoicism would allow. Compared to most pirate ships, this was arguably the one most likely to be lenient with stowaways, depending on the circumstance, but intimidation was all a part of the information gathering process. Thankfully, this man couldn’t see the amused smirk on Adrik’s lips from where he was bent over the crate, and Adrik intended to keep it that way. With an easy pull he grabbed the rope at the center of Cam’s back and lifted, and Cam yelped in surprise as he suddenly found himself hoisted into the air. While Cam was rather slippery, his kicking legs and flailing tail forced Adrik to make a concerted effort to keep Cam suspended at his side, Adrik’s grip remained firm. He walked Cam up to the top of the ship, maintaining silence despite Cam’s occasional plea, and he stopped just in front of the door to the captain’s cabin.
If this had been any other situation, Cam would have basked in his reunion with fresh air and sunlight. Unfortunately, it was overshadowed by an intense dread that increased with each ascending step.
It was over. He’d been caught. Pirates like money, right? It’d be easy enough for them just to sell him off to Hannigan – and that disgusting bastard was likely to pay a pretty penny if they turned him in. Or, they might just sell him off to whoever wanted him. Even if the buyer didn’t know what Cam was, he looked odd enough that by appearance alone he’d be interesting to a collector. He could try to escape once they were close enough to land – but if Hannigan or another trader got to him before that….
By the time they came to a stop, Cam’s entire visage had visibly drooped, and it was then Adrik took note of the young man’s ears. They were shaped almost like that of a donkey, only these protruded from the sides of his head instead of the top. A small small layer of black fur coated the outside, and based on their downward angle it looked as if Cam had lost some of the fight he had when Adrik first woke him up. He no longer wiggled against Adrik’s grip, and his tail hung limply between his legs.
Then Adrik knocked, and, as if summoned by the sound, a sudden spark returned to Cam. He stiffened in his bonds and steeled himself for whatever would happen next. Even if he was caught, and becoming a pretty piece in some sicko’s collection was his inescapable fate, he could go down fighting. Cam wouldn’t make selling him easy, that much he promised himself.
Cam writhed against his bonds one last time as he was hauled into the room, and he only caught a glimpse of a garishly decorated red and gold rug before he was dropped unceremoniously into a plush red couch.
For a moment Cam looked past the man in front him, presumably the captain, because he was distracted by the…almost gaudily opulent decorations of gold and red that covered the entire room. If it didn’t all work… somehow– Cam would call it ridiculously out of place. It took another moment for Cam to peel his vibrant green eyes away from intricate gold furnishings, and through a few loose strands of green hair he finally focused a sharp glare on the captain.
Shit. He was hot. Really hot, and Cam made no attempt to hide the way his eyes traveled down the line of the v-in the captain’s dark shirt, down to his navel. It wasn’t his fault, who wore shirts where the neck dipped so low?! Cam’s own shirt was partially opened, stopped only by the edges of his vest, but he’d never worn something that obscene. Unless it was in bed. It didn’t help that the man was also covered in tattoos, and that made Cam want to use seeing the hidden parts as an excuse to get the captain undressed.
Before Cam could stop himself, he gave the captain a full once-over. His ears perked up, his tail flicked playfully behind him, and his next words followed like a reflex.
“At least buy me dinner first,” he smirked to mask the fear clawing at his chest, “I don’t usually start out with hardcore bondage on a first date.”
A stowaway? When one of the younger crewmembers came knocking on his door to tell Ty that Adrik had happened upon someone in one of their storage rooms, he’d had to keep himself from grinning too widely. Things had been a little boring lately, and this sounded like the perfect cure. With practiced poise, he positioned himself by his map table, leaning casually against its edge as Adrik knocked and then brought in a squirming green mass. Their stowaway had fight! Ty liked them already. He allowed a toothy grin to settle on his features as a trussed up Supernatural unlike any he’d ever seen was plunked down onto his couch.
Typhon waited for the other to ‘settle.’ And he couldn’t deny enjoying the way those bright green eyes traveled over every inch of him. In fact… he may have even preened a little. Then the other man spoke, and the dragon’s grin got wider. Oh… he liked this one. A lot!
“What a shame,” he replied, giving the green-skinned man a long look from top to bottom. “Hardcore bondage is one of my favorite things to do on a first date.” A forked tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Among other things…” The stowaway was so perfectly framed in this room - green skin contrasting beautifully against the red of the couch where he sat. Ty found himself imagining what the other would look like splayed out on his red silk sheets. Stunning, he had no doubt.
Then his tongue darted out again, catching a whiff of infection. His eyes focused on the bloody, slashed fabric, before darting to Adrik. “Go get Gail. I think our new friend might have need of her skills.”
There were so many questions he wanted to ask… but where to start? The obviously noble clothing? The condition of that clothing? Or the fact that he had no idea what this man was. Despite centuries of life - almost 100 of that devoted to taking down the Supernatural slave trade, Ty was certain he’d never seen anything like this man. From his elegantly curved horns all the way to the tip of his glorious tail, he intrigued the dragon captain. In more ways than one.
“Do you know what pirates usually do with stowaways?” He didn’t wait for an answer before continuing. “The lucky ones are killed quickly. Some are thrown into the ocean to drown. Others take the place of the food they stole.” As he spoke, the dragon moved closer, tongue occasionally darting out. He could smell fear beneath the bravado. Good. That meant the man wasn’t stupid; he knew exactly how much trouble he was potentially in right now. “The captain of The Wyld Hunt spends months torturing anyone he finds; Gwyn takes extreme pleasure in crushing their spirits while breaking their bones. One. By. One.”
Stopping just in front of their captive, Ty looked the other man over with intent this time. “ My ship is… more of a democracy. The crew will decide as a group what we should do with you. “I don’t promise it will help… but if you’ve got a story to tell, now’s the time.” His grin turned into a slight leer. “Unless I can get you to change your mind about that ‘1st Date’ rule…?” He leaned in a little closer, the greek coin around his neck swinging slightly as the dragon allowed his shirt to gape open wider. “If so, I’m sure we could think of much more creative uses for your mouth.” Ty’s tone was kept light - unthreatening for that last bit. He would gladly welcome this man into his bed for some fun, but he didn’t want it to sound like a requirement for freedom. There was no enjoyment in a coerced or unwilling partner. Not for him.
Just then, a sharp rap sounded on the door, and without waiting for a reply, a short, dark-haired woman entered, toting a medium-sized fabric bag under one arm. She assessed the scene, eyes narrowing slightly at Ty’s proximity to the other, then she rolled them in a ‘not this again’ sort of way. “Could you at least wait until after the crew’s made a decision before trying to seduce him?”
Laughing, the dragon moved back to give his surgeon space. “He started it,” came the playful reply. Then he inclined his head towards the man who’d brought her. “Just ask Adrik.”
Gail gave her captain a ‘Really?’ look, but said nothing as she moved to stand by their guest. The bag was dropped unceremoniously on the other end of the couch as her eyes traveled over what she could see of the trussed-up man. Opening the bag she stuck her arm in (much deeper than it looked like it should be able to go) and eventually pulled out a large pair of platinum scissors. Then she looked directly at their stowaway and said, “These are charmed to cut through anything. If you squirm I won’t be held responsible for the loss of your arm. In short - don’t move.” Then without asking permission she began cutting away the bloody sleeve, and the shoddy bandages beneath.
“If you have any herbal allergies… things that don’t agree with your species… speak up now.” She said this while going back to rummaging in the bag, and pulling out various supplies.
“Now would also be a good time for that story,” Ty prompted again. “Since it seems like my other suggestion will have to wait. Unless you enjoy an audience…?”
Gail paused just long enough in her work to turn and shoot her captain another glare. “Keep that up and I might just decide to test out my scissors on dragonhide. Captain.”
Typhon’s eyes were still laughing, but he didn’t press his luck. While his ship’s surgeon was kind, she had a vindictive streak that he wasn’t sure he wanted to test. Not right now, at any rate. Instead he stepped back and let the woman work, leaning himself back against his map table… intentionally posed to show off the long lines of his legs and the swell of his muscled chest.
