Apr 12, 2018
Last night my girlfriend told me to draw Spyro, and what the babe wants, the babe gets.
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Last night my girlfriend told me to draw Spyro, and what the babe wants, the babe gets.
good night
Pepper I woke up to this. Thank you lmao
@smalldoll demanded that @pearlouettes‘s doodle become a sticker but pep didn’t wanna color it so I did real quick like.
It is stickerable hereeee.
a Cora/Maggie piece I deleted a while back, but after some time away from it, I feel better about it, so it’s back! @pearlouettes I don’t remember if you read it or not
Something shifted between them after the Coldspell festival. They weren't the lovers they used to be—and they certainly didn't confide in one another they way they would when they were younger—but while the weather stayed cold, their attitudes towards one another warmed. It was a subtle shift, as Maggie was still distant and Cora was more than willing to give her space, but neither went out of their way to actively avoid the other and when their paths did cross, Cora would softly smile at the other woman rather than ignore her completely.
An understanding had passed between them, even if forgiveness hadn't. They both knew Maggie's actions had altered their relationship into something neither of them recognized, but both were secretly happy to simply have a relationship between them again, even if there were still words left to be spoken about what had happened. As much as Cora wished to know the answers to her questions though, she would not be the one to make the first move. Not out of pride, but out of necessity.
There were more urgent matters than her complicated relationship with Maggie.
New recruits had to be trained to replace those that she had removed, maps needed to be studied to find the most likely points of access in the Duke's lands, and more of the Duke's guards needed to be evaluated. The fact that Maggie's father challenged her at every turn didn't make matters any easier for Cora. Every meeting with him left an ache pounding against her skull, which worsened with each doubt he voiced.
She wasn't fit to lead.
She wasn't strong enough to protect them.
She would never be good enough.
Cora shook those thoughts from her head and tried to come back to the here and now, where a fire blazed in the hearth across her room and the Duke was nowhere to be found. The cracks and pops of the wood were far more soothing than the thoughts that had been whirring through her head. Beside her, a smaller flame sat upon the candlewick, illuminating the maps that blanketed her desk. The candlelight flickered when she released a sigh of frustration. She wished she knew who she was dealing with. She knew Maggie's father was hiding something from her, and she had a feeling that knowing his secrets would make her job easier, but he was keeping them closely guarded, leaving her in the dark.
She sighed again and rubbed the back of her neck as she scoured the maps once more for viable routes the mercenaries could use to get into the Duke's lands undetected.
If it were her, she would brave the forest trails and trickle forces in until they created a flood of enemies for the Duke to deal with. But she had grown up in these lands and discovered the secrets of the surrounding forests years ago. While there was a multitude of hidden trails that could be taken if you knew them, the dangers of leaving the King's Road—bandits, Wild Ones, the forest itself—was enough to discourage strangers from following those winding routes. Unless the mercenaries had a guide to lead them through the lesser traveled trails, she doubted that was their entry point. Still, it would be worth a few soldiers to patrol those paths just in case.
Sneaking soldiers in a few at a time still seemed to be the best option, but without the cover of the forest it would take time and patience to get everyone into position. Or they could simply walk right in and take the place with overwhelming forces for all Cora knew. She scowled and crumpled one of the maps in her hand. This would be so much easier if she knew who was threatening the Duke and his family. She quietly cursed him under her breath for refusing to put aside his disdain for her. Sometimes she felt the Duke would rather have his castle and lands taken than see her succeed.
A knock at her door pulled Cora's attention from the maps. She looked up, expecting to find Ivan or Dinah filling the doorway, but she found Maggie lurking there instead, her face drawn in the serious expression Cora had become accustomed to over the last two months. There was a softness about the way she carried herself, though, that hadn't been there before the Coldspell festival. She almost seemed shy without the ramrod posture she usually held herself with. The dresses she usually wore had been replaced as well, exchanged for the winter clothes that she used to call Maggie's adventure ensemble.
Cora quirked an eyebrow at the outfit. Even when Maggie wandered the courtyard in the coldest parts of Coldspell, she had never seen her swap her elegant dresses for the heavy tunic and leggings she wore now.
“A bit late for a stroll around the castle, Your Grace,” Cora said.
“A bit late to be squinting at maps in the candelight, too, yet here we are: you squinting and me strolling,” Maggie replied.
Cora laughed and shook her head. “Funny, but I don't remember you being so fond of jokes.”
“Nor do I recall you being so enthralled by maps,” Maggie said before stifling silence engulfed them both.
The trouble was, they both remembered those things. As much as the memories pained them, they remembered everything.
Cora remembered rare glimpses of Maggie's childish side, and those glimpses were such a stark contrast to her stone-faced demeanor, it was hard to believe she was the same woman whenever she stuck her tongue out or turned sensual touches into tickling ones. And Maggie could easily recall the nights when she would have to physically pull Cora away from whatever book or scroll had caught her interest, things she herself had never been able to enjoy. But it was easier for both of them to pretend that they hadn't held on to those pleasant memories; easier to pretend they had stopped caring long ago.
Cora cleared her throat to break the suffocating silence and shuffled the maps on her desk. “So what can I do for you this evening, Your Grace?”
Maggie proceeded with caution, choosing her words carefully. “I had hoped to take a stroll, as you called it, beyond the castle walls,” she said. “Given the circumstances, I thought an escort would be wise.”
Cora nodded, and absently replied, “If you give me a moment, I'll find Ivan and Dinah. I'm sure they wouldn't mind getting out of the castle for the evening.”
Silence met the offer and when Cora looked up from her desk, she found the doorway empty once more. Cursing under her breath, she stood up and winced at the pain in her neck from hunching over so long. Then she followed after the much larger pain in her neck that had taken off down the hall. Maggie's long, quick strides had Cora jogging to catch up.
“You know, your impatience is a lot more irritating than I remember,” Cora said once she reached the larger woman. “It wouldn't have taken me that long to find Ivan and Dinah.”
“Your oblivious act is not exactly pleasant either,” Maggie replied in a clipped voice as she turned the corner at the end of the hall. Before Cora could ask what she was talking about, Maggie stopped and turned around, trapping the smaller woman in her icy gaze. “If I wanted Ivan and Dinah to escort me, I would have gone to them first, not you, and you know that.” She stepped closer and, after a moment of hesitation, she took Cora's hand in both of hers. “Please,” she started, the single, quiet word catching Cora off guard, “stop pretending like you did not know what I was suggesting.”
Cora pulled her hand from Maggie's and let it fall to her side. By the way her shoulders slumped, Cora knew which answer Maggie expected, and she hated that she felt guilty about it. She rubbed the back of her neck and sighed. It wasn't like she would get much more done with the maps without more information.
“Let me change into something a bit warmer,” she said, and the way Maggie's eyes widened was enough to stop Cora from regretting her answer.
Maggie waited in the corridor while Cora returned to her quarters to change, all the while wondering if she could really handle being alone with the smaller woman. She fidgeted with the hem of her tunic and bit her lip. There was so much she needed to say, but she would not be surprised if Cora refused to listen. And that was if she could work up the courage to say those things. She had not been brave in a long time; she wasn't sure she remembered how. She dropped the hem of her shirt when she caught sight of Cora again, dressed in the fine leather armor and dark, heavy cloak she had arrived in on that rainy day at the end of Mistfall. There was something about the attire that managed to take Maggie's breath away no matter how many times she saw Cora wear it.
“Almost ready,” Cora said as she tucked a powder blue scarf under her chin and wound it around her neck.
While she finished preparing for the cold, Maggie's gaze wandered down to the sword that now hung at Cora's hip. Sometimes it was easy to forget why Cora had returned to the keep, but then she would see the sword swinging along with Cora's gait and Maggie would be reminded of the circumstances that had brought the woman back into her life.
“I'm ready when you are, Your Grace,” Cora said.
Maggie was ready to loop her arm around Cora's the way she used to, but stopped herself at the last second. As much as she craved that closeness, she knew Cora was still uncomfortable with it. She had seen it in the way she pulled back her hand earlier and the way she held herself at a distance. Maggie settled for simply walking beside her.
Silence followed them through the wide halls of the castle, but it was not uncomfortable like it had been in Cora's quarters. That had been far too intimate a place for the awkward silence between them and was one of the reasons Maggie had refused to visit for so long. She only had so many words at her disposal and she never knew which ones would be the ones to dispel the awkwardness between them. It was easier to let Cora take the lead—it always had been—but she had destroyed any chance of Cora reaching out to her first, so now it was her turn to take the risk—if she could find the courage to follow through.
When they reached the door that led to the courtyard, Maggie and Cora nodded at the soldiers on guard, who saluted their commander and the future duchess before opening the door. Cora braced herself for the cold blast of air, but still shivered when it kissed her skin. She pulled the scarf over her mouth and nose and followed behind Maggie.
Despite the cold, Cora could admit it was the perfect night to leave the castle walls. After the initial cold burst, only a light breeze tossed loose snowflakes through the air. The cloudless, indigo sky was alight with twinkling stars and the light from the full moon bounced off the snow that lined the road to town. The moment Maggie stepped off the main road onto the winding trail that led to the forest, Cora's hopes of spending the evening in a warm tavern in town were dashed. She watched the larger woman walk towards the trees, then shook her head and followed behind her.
“You are aware I can hear you mumbling back there,” Maggie remarked as they stepped beyond the treeline.
“It's cold,” was Cora's muffled response.
Maggie slowed her steps until they were walking abreast on the narrow trail. She pursed her lips for a moment then draped her arm over Cora's shoulders so the smaller woman was safely tucked beneath the cloak. Maggie was unsure how comfortable Cora was with their sides pressed together. The last time they had been in such an intimate position was during the Coldspell festival and Cora had been the one to initiate the contact then, but nothing had passed between them since.
Cora wasn't sure how comfortable she was with the touch either. Pressed together at the festival, Maggie had been on her left side, but she needed her arm free now in case they ran into trouble, which was something Maggie seemed to to take into account. Unfortunately, Cora hadn't thought to attach the wooden piece to her shoulder before she left, and with Maggie moving so close to her, she was mentally kicking herself for forgetting it. Again.
When Maggie brushed against her shoulder without flinching, Cora breathed a sigh of relief.
“You were right, Your Grace, it is a nice night,” she conceded as they shuffled along the trail that wound its way through the bare trees. “I don't see why it couldn't have been enjoyed in the courtyard though,” she muttered.
“The courtyard loses its appeal when you've been confined to it all winter,” Maggie said. “Some of us don't have the pleasure of leading patrols whenever we feel the urge to leave the castle.”
“You say that like I enjoy freezing the last of my fingers off.”
Maggie snorted and covered her mouth with a gloved hand. “That's not funny,” she said as she struggled to school her features into a more neutral expression to match her words. As hard as she tried though, she couldn't shake the soft smile from her face. Jokes from Cora were sparse these days and, as morbid as they could be now, Maggie was happy to hear them again. “When you first returned, you truly seemed to favor that prospect more than speaking with me.”
“Well...”
“Oh.”
Maggie supposed she deserved that. She cleared her throat and quickly steered the conversation back to safer territory about Cora's assignment at the keep. Despite Cora's earlier response lurking at the back of her mind, Maggie caught herself smiling as the other woman talked about the soldiers that served under her, enchanted by the sound of Cora's voice and the way it rose and fell with her excitement.
With each step forward, Cora slipped further into storytelling, and the awkwardness she had first felt beside Maggie fell away as well. The words came easily as she wove together stories about rough mistakes the cocky new recruits had made during training and sang the praises of those who showed more promise than others. Maggie mostly listened in silence, but she occasionally interjected, asking about the names of the recruits in some stories or for clarification in others. However, the stories trailed off as the trees grew denser and those that had been bare were replaced with towering pines, whose needles sprinkled the snow beneath their sturdy branches.
It had always felt wrong to speak here, as if a whisper would shatter something sacred dwelling within the trees; something older than even the Wild Ones. The spell broke as it always did when they stepped beneath low-hanging pine branches dripping snow. When they stepped beyond the trees into the clearing that surrounded the lake, the cliff overlooking the water rose up beside them, the trail covered in snow drifts too deep for either of them to wade through.
A wave of nostalgia rolled over both women as they stared out at the frozen water. As long as she had been at the castle, Cora had avoided the lake and the memories held in its depths. Bathed in the moon's light, it was as beautiful as she remembered. She wiped at the moisture building in her eyes with the back of her hand and looked beside her, only to find Maggie watching her with a soft smile.
“What?” she asked as she stepped away from the taller woman.
Maggie shook her head and started walking towards the lake, her long strides plowing a trail through the snow. Cora cautiously followed in her steps until they reached the shore, where ice met freezing sand. There she stayed while Maggie continued moving forward.
“Your Grace, I'm not jumping in after you if you fall in,” Cora hissed, but Maggie ignored her.
The ice beneath her feet was thick and slick and even with her careful steps, there were several times where she nearly fell. Back on the shore, Cora watched as Maggie wobbled her way along the ice. It wasn't long before the ice beneath her feet got the better of her, however, and had her flat on her ass. Cora cursed under her breath and finally followed the other woman with shaky steps.
She stopped the moment she heard Maggie's boisterous laughter that had the woman shaking from the force of it. As if she had tried to hold it back, but for once, it pushed its way out, demanding to be heard. Maggie's eyes were tightly closed and one arm was crossed over her stomach as she leaned forward.
Hearing it now, Cora realized it was the first time she had heard Maggie truly laugh since she left the castle. Five years, and she finally realized just how much she had missed the laugh she had fallen in love with. The thought came unbidden, and she quickly pushed it to the back of her mind before she approached the duchess.
“Are you alright?” Cora asked as she knelt down beside the other woman.
Maggie took a deep breath to calm herself, but the moment she looked at Cora, the laughter bubbled up again. It wasn't until she laid down on her back and focused on the stars above that she was able to control herself again. There was still a smile on her face though, and when her gaze fluttered to Cora, she blushed and quickly looked back at the sky. Her heart skipped a beat when Cora laid down beside her on the ice.
“I apologize for the outburst,” Maggie said, still breathless. “It has been quite some time since I have been here.”
“Sounds like you needed it,” Cora remarked.
“Maybe,” Maggie said as she scooted closer to the smaller woman. “There was no need for you to lay with me, you know. You're probably freezing.”
“I'm fine,” Cora said, only to shiver a moment later. She turned her head and found Maggie's gaze lingering on her. “I survived the walk out here. I think I can survive this.”
“You've survived a lot of things, Commander,” Maggie said, “and I... Well, I destroyed a lot of things, didn't I?” Unable to hold Cora's gaze, she looked back up at the stars.
“Your Grace—”
“You know, when you first left, it was so easy to pretend you would be back in a few days,” Maggie started, “but the more serious your letters became, the harder it was to pretend and the less I knew what to say.” She paused to collect her thoughts, the asked, “What do you say to the woman who risks death every day? How do you comfort that woman with silly words in a letter when the only thing you want to do is hold her?” She rolled onto her side to face Cora. She took Cora's hand in hers and gathered as much courage as she could. “I have never been good with words, and because of that, I made the worst mistake I could have. I stopped trying,” she said. “Hurting you was the last thing I ever wanted to do. I hope you know that.”
She watched and she waited until Cora's hand slipped from hers and the other woman stood.
“Is that why you wanted me to come out here with you?” Cora asked. Maggie knew by the tone of her voice that she had chosen the wrong words yet again. “Did you think bringing me here would make it easier for me to forgive you?”
“No.” Maggie stood as well, and while she may have towered over Cora, she felt small trapped in her gaze. “I wanted you to accompany me here because I missed this,” she said. “I missed us.”
“There is no 'us' anymore,” Cora said. “You made that very clear to me when you stopped writing.”
Maggie's eyes narrowed and she stepped into Cora's personal space. “I am aware I stopped writing—you certainly won't let me forget it—but I am not the one who left,” she said. She balled her hands into fists as she added, “And you weren't the one who was left behind.”
“No, I was the one killing for the king, this country, and for a life with you. One you apparently didn't want as badly as I did,” Cora said with a scowl. “But please, continue to paint me as the one in the wrong.”
“I never asked that of you. I didn't even want you to go,” Maggie reminded her. “Or did you conveniently forget that?”
Cora threw her arm up and groaned in frustration. “And what was I supposed to do instead? Waste my life living in your shadow as a servant?”
“Is that all I was to you? A waste?”
Cora shook her head and said, “For someone who claims to be awful with words, you're great at twisting mine. I'm sure your father is proud to finally have a daughter just as slippery as him.”
“I am nothing like that man,” Maggie said through gritted teeth.
A bark of laughter, and Cora said, “Manipulative and unfeeling. You might as well be the same person.”
“I am not him,” Maggie said. She looked down at the ice and, quietly, repeated, “I'm not.” When she looked up again, she squared her shoulders and drew her mouth into a thin line. “This was a mistake,” she said. “I apologize for wasting your time, Commander.”
Maggie slowly started back towards the shore with wobbly steps. Meanwhile, Cora silently fumed on the ice as she watched the duchess walk away. She was more upset with herself than with Maggie. After all, she had been the one stupid enough to let her guard down and go with her. Things may have improved between them after the Coldspell festival, but not enough for them to spend time completely alone together it seemed. And maybe she hadn't reacted in the best way possible, but she also didn't enjoy being blindsided by a conversation she wasn't ready to have.
“All those excuses, and not one apology,” Cora muttered to herself before finally following Maggie.
It was going to be a long walk back to the castle.
Memories from the Berenstein universe:
“The snack that smiles back... PRINGLES!”
Title: Casting Anchor (Part II) Summary: The not-so-famous Captain Maya returns home from her latest delivery in time for her city’s unity festival. She can’t stay long before her next voyage, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t spend time with her family before it’s time to ship out again. Author’s Note: This is a first draft of Maya’s first chapter. It still needs work, but I am satisfied with where it is for now and feel comfortable letting you all take a look at it.
When they pulled apart, a toothy grin brightened his dark face and he kept his hands on her shoulders. “You've been gone too long yet again, Maya,” he said, “but I'm happy you've found your way home in time for the festival.”
She wrapped her hands around his wrists and smiled softly. “I can't stay long, Papa.”
“You never can,” he said with a nod, “What's the good in being the captain of your own ship if you can't take one day to spend as you like?”
Maya pulled away and returned her gaze to the floor. It was so much easier to face than her Papa's sad eyes. Sometimes she wondered if it would be best if she stopped visiting when she only had to leave so soon after. But she was selfish. She needed them more than they needed her. Needed the reminder of who she used to be so she could survive who she was now.
“I can give you one day,” she said as she finally looked up and met his gaze. “Like you said: what’s the good in bein’ captain if I can't spend a day with my family?” She took her Papa's hands in her own and her golden eyes brightened as she beamed at him. “You two get dressed. I'll wake the others and make sure they're presentable.”
She placed a quick kiss on his smooth cheek, leaving him wide-eyed as she twirled around him and slipped out the door to the front room.
Grunts of displeasure filled the living space as Maya went about the room waking her younger siblings, whether it was with rough kicks to their feet or ruffling their hair. When their eyes landed on her, however, their faces lit up and they quickly clambered to their feet and swarmed her. A warmth filled her chest as they wrapped their arms around her, each one of them chattering, pleading for a story from the sea, asking if she had met mermaids and the other monsters lurking in the depths, asking if she had brought them anything.
Maya laughed—and it felt so good to laugh with them after so many months—and lifted the smallest one onto her hip. “Be calm. I can only answer one question at a time,” she said, laughter still in her voice. “I have not met any sea monsters or mermaids just yet,” she said, and a chorus of groans filled the space around her. She shushed them and continued, saying, “No sea monsters, but I did escape the clutches of pirates.” The curly-haired boy in her hands—Mykah—squealed in delight and wiggled in her grip until she placed him back on the floor with the other children. “And there are no gifts this time, but I think I can find you all something at the festival today.”
“You're staying?”
The question came from the shaggy-haired figure leaning against the wall, lanky arms crossed over their chest. Makani. She was their fathers' fifth child, but not by birth like Maya and her younger brother Isaac. They had found her begging on the streets of J'onis when Maya and her Da still worked at the docks together. She had been nothing but skin and bones hidden beneath layers of dirt and bloody scrapes when they brought her home, sick from too much sun and too little clean water.
She wasn't the first child Maya's parents had taken in, but she was the first to fight them every step of the way, to hiss and kick as they scrubbed the grime from her cuts and chopped off the dead bits of knotted hair. Maya still had a pair of crescent-shaped scars on her forearm where Makani's teeth had dug in and broken the skin. Despite the years that had passed, she was just as surly now as she had been back then.
“I'm stayin',” Maya said. She rubbed the back of her neck as she added, “For the day, I mean.”
Makani rolled her eyes and pushed off the wall. Before her sour mood could infect the rest of Maya's siblings, the door to their parents' room opened. Her Da leaned heavily on a cane as he stepped into the front room. Beside him, her Papa fidgeted with the blue scarf hanging from his neck until her Da told him he looked fine.
“Now stop messin' with the damn thing and wake your son up,” he said in a gruff voice.
When her Papa returned, her stout brother followed behind him from the only other bedroom in the cottage, scratching the back of his bald head as he stifled a yawn. While she had gotten their Papa's height, Isaac had inherited their Da's short and stocky build. His wife Jules wasn't far behind, rubbing her eyes. Their twin children were somewhere in the sea of children that had swelled around Maya. Isaac greeted her with a tired wave, but didn't say much, most likely too tired for coherent thought.
She smiled at the sight of her family together—even Makani sulking in the corner—and an old wish tugged at her heart. To go back to work at the docks, where she would be close to home and her family. To see them grow. But the sea had lured her in, sweet as any siren's song, and sunk its hooks into her heart. There was no leaving it now.
Not to mention the coin her job provided her.
“Alright, alright. Stop crowdin' your sister. We're leavin' now,” her Papa said as he ushered the children towards the front door. “That means you too, Makani.”
There was a groan in response, but Makani shuffled away from the corner and followed the herd of children out the front door into the early morning air.
Maya and Isaac easily pulled the cart carrying their family from the outskirts of the city to its center, where merchants from across the region had gathered to sell their wares. Maya still remembered when she and her Da used to use the cart for the large crates that needed to be taken from the docks to the storage yards in the city. Those days had ended with her Da's accident, but as their family grew, they had found a new way to utilize the cart.
When they entered the densely-populated square, her Da called a halt and Maya and Isaac dropped the handles of the wagon. They grinned at one another, glad that neither one of them had lost a step over the months. While Isaac went to the back of the wagon to gather his family, Maya grabbed her Da's cane while he gingerly slipped from the seat at the front of the wagon. Her Papa provided a steadying hand until Maya handed him his cane, which he promptly used to swat her leg.
“You dragged us here at the crack of dawn, Little One,” he said, “so how 'bout you find us something to eat?”
Maya nodded and stepped away from the cart. Her Da joined her, most likely because he would stay with the cart when the rest of them went down to the shore to join the dancers. As much as he loved the sea, the reminder of what he had lost was too painful for him to return, so he would enjoy his time with his daughter while they shopped.
They were studying the pendants of a young woman's stall when her Da gently tapped his cane against her shin. Maya looked up from the piece in her palm.
“You've been distant, Little One,” he said.
She rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the pendant. “I've been at sea.”
“You know that's not what I mean, Maya,” he said. “Even when you're here, you aren't. It's gettin' to be like you can't stand to be home anymore.”
“I'm just tired,” she said. She dug into her coin purse and pulled out two gold pieces. After she handed them over, she turned to find her Da watching her with golden eyes so like her own. She squirmed under his gaze and rubbed the back of her neck. “A lot has been weighin' on me lately, Da, and I'm sorry I've been distant. Next time I'm home, I'll stay longer.”
“I know your Papa will appreciate that. He misses his oldest daughter,” he said with a grin. She pouted and her Da laughed. He reached up and placed his hand on her shoulder. “I'm already looking forward to your next visit, Little One.”
Maya rolled her eyes and stuffed the pendant into the pouch hanging from her belt. The morning quiet hung between her and her Da as they perused the rest of the stalls and she picked out gifts for each of her siblings. Once she had something for each of them, along with several sticks in her hands with pieces of meat speared on them, they made their way back to the wagon. She smiled when she caught sight of Isaac and quickened her pace, but her Da stopped in his tracks.
“Maya,” he called, and when she turned around, the worry she found etched on his face made her chest ache. “If somethin' were wrong, you know you could tell us, right? That's what your family is for, and the gods know you got a big enough one.”
Maya smiled and nodded. “I know, Da, but I'll be alright.”
If it weren't for the guilt gnawing at her stomach, she could almost believe it.
For the rest of the day, Maya let herself forget about the troubles weighing on her shoulders. Instead, she spent it giving her siblings the gifts she had bought at the stands, munching on smoked meats and fish, and dancing on the shore with her family. She even tugged Makani away from the shallow sea water to join her for a dance despite the girl's surly attitude. As they kicked up the white sand with their bare feet, the seemingly permanent scowl on her sister's face eventually faded and a grin appeared that was wide enough to rival Maya's as the music filled them.
But the day couldn't last forever, as much as Maya wished it could. Too soon, the sun was sinking below the horizon, setting the sea ablaze in its golden light. The descending sun did little to dishearten the revelers, though, and fires were quickly lit along the shore as the moon and stars replaced the sun. Maya shared one last dance with her Papa, twirling along the edges of the firelight until the song ended.
When they headed back up to the city, Maya cradled one of the sleeping twins—she couldn't tell whether they were Iris or Jayden—while Isaac held the other against his chest. Myka had scrambled up Maya's back somewhere along the way and had his arms looped around her neck, careful not to bump the sleeping child in her arms with his knees. Makani had Jessa's hand in hers as well, and the sleepy girl could barely keep up. Noah had stayed behind with their Da to keep him company in the square, and he eagerly waved at them when they approached the wagon.
The trip back to the cottage was too short, filled with a tense silence only broken by the soft snores of the children and the creak of the wagon wheels. Once they were home, the sleeping children were gently carried inside and laid on the floor beside each other. Sleepy objections were uttered by each of them, but they were all quieted with a quick kiss to the temple before they were covered with a scratchy blanket. Makani huddled in the corner with a blanket of her own, glaring at Maya over its edge.
“You won't be staying for the night, will you?”
Maya shook her head. “I've already stayed too long.”
Her Da huffed and looked away, but her Papa wrapped her in a hug that didn't last nearly long enough. He slipped his blue scarf over head as he pulled away. The smile on his face didn't quite reach his eyes.
“To keep those unruly locks of yours out of your eyes,” he said before he nudged her Da towards her.
He was always the hardest goodbye and when she pulled him into a hug, she squeezed her eyes shut against threatening tears.
“Remember your promise, Little One.”
She nodded, unable to speak.
After the goodbyes were said and done, Maya headed down the gravel path with a heavy heart. Even the sight of her ship bobbing in the water near the docks couldn't lift her spirits. Tess's crossed arms and tapping foot did nothing to help her mood as she walked up the ramp to the deck.
“Where have you been? Do you know how long you've kept them waiting?
“They've waited months for us to come back. One more day wouldn't have killed 'em,” Maya said as she started across the deck towards her quarters where her employers were bound to be waiting for her.
Tess grabbed her hand and tugged her back.
“I know that look in your eye, Captain. Take a moment and regain your senses.”
She yanked her hand away and glared at Tess. “You said yourself I shouldn't have kept 'em waiting. I'm being a good lapdog and reporting back.”
“Maya!” Her name was harsh on Tess's tongue, a foreign sound coming from her first mate. When Maya's gaze met hers, Tess's eyes softened and she said, “Please refrain from saying something you'll regret while you're in there.”
“Make sure our new companions are comfortable below deck,” was all Maya said before she disappeared behind the door to her quarters.
As she suspected, a young man and woman awaited her at her desk. Their clothes were far finer than her own, the cool silk of their tunics shimmering in the candlelight. They wore matching grim expressions. The man in the chair at her desk cleared his throat and adjusted his vest while his partner glared at Maya from his side.
“You know how much we hate waiting,” the man said.
Maya shrugged. “I got caught up in the excitement of the festival is all.”
The woman's eyes narrowed and her grip tightened on the back of the chair. “We don't pay you to get caught up in festivities.”
“No, you pay me to ship your precious cargo before the weak ones can die from whatever sicknesses they've caught from your prison cells, and that's exactly what I do,” she said. “Remind me, how many have I lost since you hired me?”
“None,” the woman said through gritted teeth.
“None,” Maya repeated, nodding. “Meanwhile, the rest of your ships might as well be costing you money with how many prisoners they lose on the voyage. All the gold I'm saving you, I would think that would have earned me at least one day of rest before you send me back on my merry way.”
“Don't forget who you are speaking to, you little urchin!”
The man waved his hand. “That's enough Luna,” he said, and his companion fell silent. He stood from the chair and absently flicked through the maps on Maya's desk as he said, “It would seem our captain here has been feeling a little overworked and under-appreciated. Such a nasty combination, you can't fault her for needing a day to recuperate. But I am sure the time spent with her family has been enough to rejuvenate her.” Maya's breath caught in her throat at the mention of her family. He shifted his gaze from the maps and when his bright blue eyes met hers, a chill tingled up her spine. “We have nothing to worry about. Isn't that right, Maya?”
Unable to find her voice, Maya nodded.
Her boss clapped his hands together and his lips curled into a smile that made her stomach twist into a knot.
“You don't know how happy I am to hear that,” he said as he approached. Her muscles tensed as he draped his arm over her shoulder and pulled her closer. “Now, this voyage is going to be a bit longer than the last, but that just means a bigger purse for you, my friend. I'm sure someone of your ilk can appreciate that.” He withdrew an envelope from his fur-lined vest and placed it in Maya's hand. The sickening smile was still on his face as he said, “Don't let me down, Captain.”
Her throat was dry and her voice came out in a rasp when she said, “I won't.”
“Those are the very words I love to hear, my dear,” he said. He returned his gaze to Luna, much to Maya's relief. “Come now, Luna. I don't believe we'll be having any more trouble from our captain here. Let us return to our own business so she can get back to hers.”
Luna left the desk to join her partner's side. The man gave Maya a parting smile that made her skin crawl. Distracted, she didn't see Luna's punch coming until it was too late. The wind left her as Luna buried her fist in her stomach. Maya wheezed, gasping for breath, only to catch another blow to the head that made her stumble to the floor. A well-aimed kick to the ribs had her struggling to curl into a ball to protect herself from any other blows.
“I trust you won't be late for our next meeting,” Luna said before she followed the man outside.
Maya lay there still gasping for the breath that had been stolen from her when Tess came through the door. She heard a muffled voice before Tess's soft hands were on her shoulders, easing her into a sitting position. Pain flared in her side and her head spun, but she was grateful for the salty air finally reaching her lungs. Tess rubbed soothing circles against her back and Maya leaned her head against Tess's shoulder, grateful for the support.
“You're alright, love.”
She took Maya by the elbow and helped her to her feet. Maya allowed her to lead her to the bed and complied as Tess's hands guided her down to the sturdy mattress. The bobbing of the ship did nothing to help her spinning head, but at least the bed was stable beneath her. Tess left her for a moment to rummage through the desk drawer. She returned with a rag and the decanter of wine from the night before. She poured a liberal amount of the drink onto the rag and dabbed at Maya's split lip, her touch filled with a fond tenderness.
“I thought I told you not to say something stupid.”
When Maya stayed silent, Tess sighed and returned her attention to the task at hand. Once the cut was cleaned, she inspected the rest of Maya's hurts, tsk'ing at the bruises already starting to swell over her torso and the knot on her temple. She set the rag and decanter on the floor before she gently placed her hand against Maya's cheek and gave her a soft smile.
“What ever will I do with you, Captain?”
Maya didn't have an answer for her.
Part I Here (x)
Title: Casting Anchor (Part I) Summary: The not-so-famous Captain Maya returns home from her last delivery in time for her city’s unity festival. She can’t stay long before her next voyage, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t spend time with her family before it’s time to ship out again. Author’s Note: This is a first draft of Maya’s first chapter. It still needs work, but I am satisfied with where it is for now and feel comfortable letting you all take a look at it.
Moonlight shimmered on the glassy surface of the water, winking in and out of sight as small waves rippled through the reflection. The night air was warm and the soft breeze carried the smell of salt and fish from the water up to the city of lights twinkling far above the docks and the sandy shores. Bonfires dotted the shores, circled by dancers and lovers alike. A ragtag group armed with lutes, drums, and flutes offered up a song for the air to carry across the sea, but the music didn't quite reach the lone ship bobbing out on the water or the woman sitting in its crow's nest, her long, thick legs dangling over the edge as she rested her chin on her hands propped up on the wooden railing that encircled her.
A soft smile rested on Maya's lips as the boat inched closer to land with each gust of wind. As much as she loved the open sea and all the freedom it offered up to her, months away from home still took their toll on her.
“Captain!”
She shifted her gaze from the shore down to the deck, where a member of her crew waited patiently. She slid her thick body under the railing and dropped down to the ropes dangling below. Her movements were steady on the ropes that rocked beneath her as she scrambled her way to the deck. She jumped the last few feet and once she had acclimated to the stable boards beneath her, she turned to face the man who had called to her.
“Tess was lookin' for ya,” he told her. “Should've guessed you'd be up there.”
“She knew exactly where I'd be. She's just too busy lazin' about to fetch me herself,” she said. She placed her hand on the man's shoulder and gave it a rough squeeze. “Tell Hakim we'll be usin' the far docks tonight. Too many festivities this week to cast anchor on the beach.”
“He's not gonna be pleased about that,” the gruff man groused.
“Tell him I'll buy him a drink if he can get us ashore without scrapin' up the ship,” she said with a wink before she left the man and went in search of Tess, the golden beads in her dark locs jingling behind her.
She found the lanky, dark-haired woman in the captain's quarters sitting in a rough wooden chair with her legs propped up on the desk set against the wall. A large-brimmed red and black hat hid her face and muffled her soft snores. Maya rolled her eyes before she crossed the room and shoved Tess's booted feet off the desk. Her first mate startled in the chair and the hat fell from her face. She glared at Maya as she retrieved the hat off of the floor and settled it back on her head.
“It's about time you showed up,” Tess said in a smooth voice that had captivated men and women alike throughout the taverns of Marvadel. “I thought Jamal would never find you.”
“Aren't these supposed to be my quarters?” Maya asked with a raised eyebrow. “And you're the one who sent him instead of coming to find me yourself, ya lazy git.” Tess absently waved off Maya's words as she opened a drawer on the desk and pulled out a glass decanter of dark red wine and two tumblers. She glanced at Maya, who only shrugged and said, “Help yourself, but I think I'll wait 'til we're ashore.”
“Always the responsible captain,” Tess teased before she filled her glass.
Maya shook her head, but said nothing as she walked to the porthole by the side of her bed. The calm she had felt while up in the crows nest had fled, replaced by the burden of responsibility Tess had mentioned. Suddenly, the prospect of returning home was no longer appealing. As she stared out at the dark waves, soft footsteps approached and a pair of hands rested on her shoulders.
“Relax, Captain,” Tess said in a soft voice. “Maybe you should have that drink. Loosen you up a bit before we drop anchor.”
The skilled hands started to knead the thick muscle near Maya's shoulder blades, and her shoulders drooped as her eyes slipped closed. She hummed in pleasure and indulged in the comfort a moment longer before she turned away from the window and took Tess's hands in hers, marveling at the smooth skin against her rough, calloused palms.
To Maya, that was the most striking thing about her first mate.
Despite her experience on the sea, Tess's skin had remained soft—mostly because she talked others into doing the heavy work for her aboard the ship. But it was more than that. From her voice to her quiet, fluid movements, everything about her was soft. It was no wonder she had a line of lovers lusting after her in every port, along with several aboard their own ship.
“Thank you,” Maya said, “but my original decision stands. No drinks for me until we're safely on land where I can make all the foolish choices I like.” She laughed at the frown on Tess's face and playfully draped her arm over her shoulders. “You almost had me there, though,” she said before she planted an affectionate kiss on a pale cheek that flushed red at the contact.
Tess scowled and rubbed at her cheek as Maya slid away from her. “How is it you have remained immune to my charms all these years, yet you can make me blush like some untouched virgin with one sloppily placed kiss on the cheek?”
“Maybe you're not as charming as you think.”
Maya laughed when Tess swatted her arm.
Dawn was edging its way over the horizon by the time the ship reached the docks near the cliffs that loomed over the sea. A fire blazed at the top of the lighthouse that stood at the edge of the cliff, but even with the light it provided and the brightening sky, docking was a precarious task. Maya's helmsman Hakim muttered beside her as he edged the ship around the rocks lurking just beneath the water's surface. Maya didn't speak his language, but judging by the tone of his voice, her ignorance was probably for the best.
Once the anchor was cast and the ship was secured, Maya lowered the ramp from the ship down to the docks. As they disembarked, Maya inspected what she could see of her vessel. Despite Hakim's best efforts, a long scrape marred the hull of the ship.
“Jamal, tell your man that last rock left a mark,” she said to the lithe sailor she had spoken with earlier. He repeated the words in the foreign tongue he shared with Hakim, who scoffed and said something that sounded far from pleasant. Maya laughed and said, “Don't worry. You still earned that drink.”
As they reached the end of the docks, Tess stepped closer and wrapped her arms around one of Maya's, whispering, “Don't forget you owe me one, too.”
“I would never,” Maya replied, “but there's somewhere I need to go before you leeches drain me dry.”
“Of course,” Tess said with a nod. “You know where to find us when you're done, love.”
She disentangled herself from Maya and gestured for the crew to follow her so Maya could take care of business. Tess offered a parting smile before she led the rest of the crew along the cobbled path that wound its way up the cliff to the coastal city. Maya watched them leave before she headed down her own path that curved around the cliff side.
She had walked the narrow path more times than she could count since she was a child, whether she was heading to the city with her parents or chasing her squealing siblings to the docks. She breathed in the sweet scent of the pink and blue flowers blooming on the cliff face, and a hint of the sea wafting behind it. The familiar smell brought a smile to her face and she absently plucked several of the blossoms from their craggy homes. As she walked, she twisted the stems and knotted them together. When she reached the cottage at the end of the cobbled path, the handful of flowers had transformed into a loose circle that she held gently in one hand while she opened the door to the cottage with the other.
The door creaked open, revealing the wide living space of the cottage. Several prone figures were sprawled over the floor and the familiar sound of snores filled Maya's ears. Somewhere near the wide window, someone murmured in their sleep and shifted their position. She shook her head at the sleeping arrangement before stepping carefully over her younger siblings. She was practically dancing as she picked her way among the slumbering children until she reached the door on the far wall of the living room. Once she was sure she hadn't woken any of them, she cracked open the door and slipped inside.
In the flickering candlelight she saw her Papa tucked between the wall and her Da, their hands clasped even in sleep. Beside him, her Da sat with his back propped up with pillows piled against the bed's headboard, his bearded face hidden behind a book. Wordlessly, she approached the bed and pulled the book out of her Da's hand. His golden eyes flickered to her sun-kissed face. If he was surprised to see her, his face didn't show it.
“Welcome back, Little One,” he said in a hushed voice. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “You bring the sea with you.”
“I always do,” she replied before she leaned forward and placed the circle of flowers over his head. Before she pulled away, she placed a quick kiss against his temple. “I missed you, Da.”
“And we missed you,” he said before he turned to his husband and shook his shoulder.
Maya's Papa snorted as he jolted awake. He glared at his husband for rousing him, who only nodded his flowered head towards Maya. When her Papa's gaze met hers, Maya rubbed the back of her neck and studied the floorboards. Blankets rustled and floorboards creaked before she was engulfed in her Papa's lanky arms.
“Good morning, Papa,” she said as she returned the hug.
Part II Here: (x)
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