Fathomless Fortunes [slash]

Chapter 12 - Frozen

Trigger warning: mention of rape and slavery

Dear readers, sorry for the long wait!

***

With Lucky's and Dao's help, Nicolas and Alastair managed the stairs down to the captain's cabin.

"Go back to work," Alastair ordered. "Nico stays with me."

"But..."

Dao's protest was quickly cut off by Lucky. "You heard the captain. You have some cleaning up to do in the kitchen!"

Alastair's body was cold to the touch as Nicolas carefully steered him though the cabin. It was a complete mess, he noted. The little trinkets had fallen off the desk; some glass flasks and porcelain figures had broken into a hundred tiny shards. The paintings had survived, but hung crooked on the walls.

Nicolas sat Alastair down on the bed and knelt down to pull off the dripping pants and boots. The boots might be beyond saving, but the rest would dry after being washed. To think about such simple things helped Nicolas focus. He looked around and found a clean towel in the clothes chest. He started to wipe off the water from Alastair's face and neck. He knew he didn't have to do this anymore, since he was no longer a mere cabin boy, but the familiar task helped him focus.

Alastair looked at him.

"I haven't thanked you yet."

"I wasn't sure if you would. Down there, it seemed like you..." Nicolas didn't know how to continue. "And that scaly thing.... was it really...?"

"Yes." There was so much in that one word.

"But... how?"

"You know the stories about... tidehearts, don't you? They're true." Alastair took the towel from Nicolas to dry his dripping hair. Nicolas helped, always eager to feel those sleek tresses. Their fingers touched briefly between the folds of the cloth. Alastair's hands were like ice.

"The whole crew knows, don't they? And no one told me. Do you still don't trust me?" Nicolas had meant to say something completely different, but the words just blurted out.

Alastair stood up and quickly pulled off the wet shirt. He held his left arm out to Nicolas. The scales glittered in the sunlight streaming from the rear window.

"I didn't want you to think of me as some... thing," Alastair said softly. "I know how you used to look at me. And I like to keep things simple."

Nicolas realized that he saw Alastair completely naked for the first time. The pearly white skin, carefully protected from the sun by clothes, hats, and makeup, but marred by the scars from past victories. The silky hair in that impossible shade of dark red that he had never seen on another person before. The eyes, changing color with their surroundings. The sharp, beautiful lines of the face. All this he had seen and admired, coveted, but now Nicolas truly realized that he was looking at a stranger. This was no ordinary human, but the child of a creature from the depth. The carefully crafted stories and legends about the ghost captain with supernatural powers held more truth than thought possible.

Nicolas shook his head. "Simple? You? I'm sorry, Captain Blake, Sir, but nothing is ever simple with you."

Was that a reluctant smile? "Probably not. So, what will you do now?"

That was a very good question. Nicolas got up from his kneeling position and gently wiped away a few more drops of water on Alastair's face. His lips followed, tasting the salt water. Slowly, he kissed his way down the cheek and neck to the shoulder. Alastair flinched at the touch, but didn't protest when Nicolas kissed the scales on his shoulder. The skin was salty and sweet at the same time. He showered more kisses on the cold, scaled skin down the collarbone and chest, following the newly-grown lines.