VIOLENT TIDES (gxg - editing)

12

When Ainsley awoke, she spent a moment suspended in contentment. Sunlight filtered in from the open hatch above her, painting the inside of the hold golden, and the ship swayed gently on calm waters. Still drowsy and curled up on her makeshift bed, the princess was almost reluctant to get up. She had slept well, she realized, despite the horrors of yesterday. She hadn't slept so well since this trip began.

Ainsley yawned and sat up, then stretched her arms behind her, wincing as white hot pain blinded her for a moment. So the salve had worn off. Wonderful. Wrapping one hand around the wounded area, she pulled herself to her feet, dislodging the annoyed cat that had been tucked comfortably against her side. It blinked in the sun and arched its back, then stretched its paws out in front of it, glittering claws extended. Despite the dull throb of pain, Ainsley smiled at it.

"I'm glad one of us wasn't around for what happened yesterday," she commented. It yawned, showing off needle-sharp teeth, and then prowled off into some hidden crevice of the ship. A more somber mood fell over Ainsley as the events were brought crashing back in an unpleasant wave.

Better here than with Bartholomew and his crew. She never thought she'd see the day when she considered certain pirates to be more morally upright than others.

Well, that was assuming she wasn't promptly placed back in her cuff the second she showed her face again today. If that happened, any amiability she might be reluctantly feeling would be gone in a heartbeat.

Stepping up onto the deck, Ainsley was surprised to find the sun already high in the sky. Nearly midday already. She had slept for a long time.

Blinking sleep from her eyes, Ainsley started off the gently bobbing deck. A few pirates, all working with various riggings and sails, gave her nods of greeting, which she returned. One hardened, middle aged man even gruffly asked how she was feeling, giving her a surge of uncharacteristic shyness when she answered.

When she was hurt back home, flocks of people knew and panicked about it, rumours about the death of their princess suddenly flitting from town to town. There had always been concern. But something about this was different.

This felt more personal.

The Finch was moving steadily, cutting through the water like the bird it was named for cut through the sky. Waves slapped at her prow, sending up mist and churning out a white trail behind them. For a brief moment, surrounded by creaking wood and rustling sails, the ship felt alive. She was beginning to understand why this life appealed to people.

Ainsley found Nathe walking towards the stern, a huge barrel perched precariously on one shoulder and a coil of rope wrapped around the other. He spared her a sideways glance as she approached.

"Princess, no matter what you say, I've been completely 'n totally forbidden from setting you to work today."

Ainsley almost smiled again. "Well, I won't argue this once," she replied, rolling her shoulder and grimacing at the flare of pain. "I suppose I wouldn't be up to it even if I wanted to."

"Exactly. Don't go asking any of the other men either; they're too soft on you and won't be able to say no."

Ainsley found herself flushing slightly. She had unknowingly formed an unsteady alliance with most of the crew, but to hear that fact stated out loud was awkward. Her father would be so disappointed if he knew she was finding common ground with criminals, of all people.

"Princess!"

Ainsley bit down on her lower lip and turned to face Ed, allowing Nathe to be on his way. It had been a while since she had been cornered into a conversation with the confrontational youth, and she wasn't pleased to find herself there again. Glaring and refusing to give him a response, she turned on her heel and began to walk across the deck. She heard the sound of his boots hurrying after her.

"What's wrong, hurt arm making you a little crankier than usual?"

Well, he was the same as ever. She spun to face him, stopping so abruptly he nearly crashed into her. She raised her chin and stared at him.

"I could kill you," she growled, not mincing any words. He got the message, paling for a moment, before a slow smirk spread across his face again and he regained his composure.

"Alright, princess. Sounds like a lovely time. Better get it done before the captain decides to have that thing put back on you, though."

And then he walked away, not giving her a chance to reply. Ainsley glowered, resisting the urge to attack him right then and there. Somehow, he knew exactly how to get her anger running hot.

The next voice that caught her attention was much more pleasant.

"Ainsley!"

Gael was striding towards her. Today, her dark curls were held back by a bandage wrapped around her head, stained by a dark red blossom where it covered her right temple. She seemed alert and healthy, however, clearly having already worked the morning away.

Ainsley clasped a hand subconsciously around the wrist where the cuff had been.

"Captain," she replied, tone more wary than she had hoped for.

"I'm glad you're up. How are you feeling?"

Ainsley glanced down at her wound, which had stained through the bandage wrapped around it. She considered lying for a moment, then decided against it.

"It hurts," she admitted, "but I think it's alright."

Gael smiled. "Yes, it'll feel that way for a while." Her tone changed to something almost playful. "You've never been stabbed, then, hm?"

Ainsley felt her lips curl up slightly. "I can't say I have, Captain. I wouldn't prefer to ever again, either."

"No, it's not the best experience." The young woman put her hands into the pockets of her coat and stared out to sea, then looked back at Ainsley. "I've actually been meaning to ask about yesterday. Is that alright?"

Ainsley swallowed, covering the short distance to the wall and then leaning against it, arms folded. "Uh... yes. I suppose."

Gael appeared next to her, keeping a respectful distance away. "I had no idea your dragonblood made you stronger."

That was the topic that had settled in the back of Ainsley's mind and stayed there. The princess brought her hands together in front of her, fingers interlocking.

"It doesn't," she replied simply. Then- "I think that may have been a partial transformation."

"I thought dragonblood transformations were a myth."

"They're no myth," Ainsley corrected, "just very rare. I have no idea what brings them about, either."

"And you've never transformed to any degree before?"

Ainsley shook her head wordlessly. "My mother never did either," she added, "most dragonbloods will go their whole lives without ever being placed in circumstances that allow for transformation."

Gael seemed to think this over. "I suppose it's good you didn't go through a full transformation, then."

Ainsley's surprise showed on her face. "You've read the old stories."

"I have."

Ainsley considered this, remembering the tales of dragonbloods long before her, the ones whose blood she carried in her veins, that had turned into beastly, animalistic versions of themselves, full of power and with the magic of dragons running through them, until it wore off and they collapsed as bloody, half-dead messes. No one had survived a full transformation before.

"Well, you know your father better than I do, princess. Am I going to be hanged for putting you in harm's way?" Gael's tone was light, but Ainsley replied with a bitter scoff.

"He's the one who did that."

"He is a bit contradictory, isn't he?"

Ainsley waited for her to continue.

"He jumps at the chance to give you away as a hostage, but is also incredibly adamant that you're not injured or killed."

Ainsley's answer was sharp and ready the moment the question was posed. "It's because he's determined to have a dragonblood on the throne," she said. "He doesn't care about me, he only wants to ensure Ellay is powerful. He's not dragonblood himself; which is why he overcompensates." She was referencing his warmongering nature, of course. Only some careful diplomacy from his advisors had stopped him from bringing Ellay into several major wars during his time. Her mother had been a much more sensible ruler.

"That doesn't explain why he sends you away."

"That is because I've become too rebellious for his comfort," Ainsley replied, a bitter sneer twisting her lips. She turned her head away and stared into the wind that ruffled her short hair off of her forehead. "He wants me to marry a nobleman from another kingdom. He comes from a line that's rumoured to hold faint traces of dragonblood- not enough to use any of the abilities, but enough to ensure any children between us would be powerful dragonbloods. I told him I didn't want to, and I think this is his attempt to scare me into coming home submissive and willing to bend to his every will."

She saw Gael nod slowly out of the corner of her eye. "You don't wish to fulfill your responsibilities for your country, then?"

"It's not that. I just-" she swallowed and shrugged. "I have no wish to marry a man."

"You'd rather wed a woman?"

She nodded faintly. Gael's brilliant smile surprised her and she stared at the captain.

"Me too," the captain stated amiably. Ainsley blinked, then found herself smiling as well.

"You wouldn't be able to produce an heir, however."

Ainsley sighed deeply. "I know," she replied, not wanting to talk about the subject any longer. "I- I'm aware. That's why I can't..." she shook her head briskly. "It doesn't matter. Is there anything else I can do around here?"

Gael surveyed her for a moment, and Ainsley felt almost subconscious, like the other woman could see straight into her soul. She paused.

"I can see if Holman needs help with anything. Come with me."

here's another chapter! please don't forget to vote and comment if you enjoyed it, getting feedback means a lot to me <3