A ROCK IN THE OCEAN
a Goblin Emperor fic
by Serenade
Notes: Written for Scribe of Mirrormere for Ship Swap 2016.
Summary: Maia and Csevet are shipwrecked together.
Maia choked awake, coughing up salt water. He gasped for breath, drawing in great lungfuls of briny air. Through the blur of his lashes, Csevet filled his sight. His mouth flushed red. His eyes were red too.
Maia touched his own lips, feeling a lingering warmth. He sat up, or tried to, wracked by another fit of coughing. He clung to Csevet, who bore it patiently, stroking his back to soothe his paroxysms.
When Maia could finally speak, he said, "Where are we?"
"We do not know, Serenity." It was rare for Csevet to be at a loss for an answer. But when Maia lifted his head, he understood why.
They lay on a narrow pebbled shore that hardly deserved the name of beach. It ringed an outcrop of rock that jutted from the sea, towering as tall as the highest minaret of the Alcethmeret. All around was the dark ocean, empty to the horizon. No sign of the airship.
"We are lost," Maia said, heart sinking.
Csevet hesitated. "They will search for us, Serenity. We must stay alive until they come. They will not give up. So we must not either."
Csevet was soaking wet, his shirt and trousers plastered to his skin, his earrings bright with beads of water. His moonlight hair fell loose about his face, like it sometimes did in Maia's confused dreams. His own hair had unwound from its elaborate arrangement, wet curls tumbling about his shoulders, tashin sticks vanished who knew where. His robes encased him, heavy and sodden, trailing strands of seaweed. He dislodged a starfish from his sleeve, and coughed up another mouthful of brine.
Csevet said, awkward but determined, "Please forgive our impertinence, Serenity. But you must get dry, or you will catch a chill."
Maia took his meaning. It was only sensible. There were no edocharei here to help Maia out of his many layers, but Csevet did the best he could, deft fingers unlacing and unbuttoning, shivering over his nape or down his spine.
Maia spread his clothes across the rocks to dry in the sun, keeping only the bare minimum to preserve modesty. Csevet did the same, stripping down to his drawers with effortless grace. Maia could not help stealing sideways glances, having only ever seen him in the leather uniform of a courier, or the court attire of a secretary. His pale shoulders swept into a muscular back and thighs, a reminder that the life of a courier demanded physical endurance.
When he noticed Maia observing him, he turned very pink, a flush painting its way down his neck to his chest. Maia also flushed, and looked away.
The island was a volcanic stack rising from the ocean, black basalt crusted with salt spray and speckled with moss. Gulls nested on the cliffs, swooping for fish with triumphant cries.
"There may be eggs in the nests," Csevet speculated. But Maia forbade him to risk his neck on the sheer walls. And besides, he felt a pang of guilt at the thought of stealing what the gulls guarded so fiercely.
So they prised oysters from their beds and scraped seaweed from the rocks. There was no fuel to build a fire, nor any way to spark one to life, so they ate their food raw. Csevet insisted on tasting everything first, in case it should prove poisonous.
They devoured the oysters in soft slippery mouthfuls, and chewed on flat ribbons of kelp, translucent as wet silk, lush with water that tasted of salt.
When night fell, they huddled close, sharing warmth. Never before had Maia been so thankful for his impractical and voluminous robes, for there was enough cloth to wrap them both in its folds. Csevet was so close, Maia could hear each intake and exhale of his breath. He did not look directly at Csevet, unsure what he would see, or what his own face would reveal.
The stars shone brighter here, undimmed by the glow of gaslights or hearthfires. One could navigate by them, he knew. If only he had paid more heed when Vedero explained the constellations. But would it be any use, to know what direction to take, and not be able to go?
Their only hope was that the airship would find them. His nohecharei would be tireless in their search. He did not want to think of the consequences if they failed to find him.
"Kiru saved us," Maia recalled. Too far away to grab him in time, she had extended her hands and cried out a word. A gust of wind swelled around him, cradling him as he fell. He floated like a feather, until the black sea swallowed him.
"Serenity," Csevet said, breath warm against his shoulder. "You should never have risked yourself. What were you thinking?"
Maia had not been thinking clearly at all. The Loyalty of Lohaiso had been searched for dangers. The Untheileneise Guard made sure of it. And yet an incendiary device had slipped past their precautions. Csevet had hurled it through the cargo bay doors, but the shockwave of its explosion rocked the airship. The deck tilted. Csevet lost his balance. And Maia-by instinct-lunged for him.
Eventually, Maia said, "We could not let you fall."
A diet of seaweed and shellfish was not enough to quell hunger for long. But sleek silvery fish swam in the shallows, an alluring quarry. His white court slippers were useless on the rocks, so Maia went barefoot, climbing like a goat. Csevet followed after, sure and swift, his balance perfect. His ears flickered with exertion and delight.
The rock pools were clear enough to see through, but Maia stepped on a stone that was not a stone, that flared its fins and darted away. Pain lanced through his foot. Blood swirled the water. The stonefish had spines like needles.
"The cut is not deep," Csevet said, but his voice betrayed his worry.
They washed it out with seawater, but it still stung.
Maia drifted in and out of fitful sleep, trying to ignore the throbbing that ran from his foot up his leg. Csevet had brought food to him-a soft pulp of seaweed, thin strips of raw fish-but his stomach turned and he pushed it away.
The surge of the sea against the rocks filled his ears, like a wordless lullaby for the lost souls flung upon this unforgiving shore. If he ever dreamed of escaping to an island, it would not be this desolate shard of stone. It would be a tropical paradise, like in the adventure tales of Amu Carcethlened: hot sun on his shoulders, warm sand between his toes, crystal blue water lapping at his ankles. They would break open coconuts and pineapples, drinking down their sweet juice. After, they would rest upon enticing beds of fern, while rainbow birds trilled in cacophony.
He must have spoken some of this aloud, because Csevet said, "We would like to try pineapple, when you get better." He laid a damp cloth on Maia's fevered brow, and tried to smile.
"I'm thirsty," Maia said. "Please."
Csevet bit his lip. "There is nothing but seawater, Serenity."
"Serenity. Drink this."
Maia opened his mouth, the first warm drops falling on his cracked lips, not even reaching his parched throat. But the next few drops fell upon his tongue, and he tasted iron.
His eyes flew open. In Csevet's cupped hand, blood welled from a thin cut. Maia recoiled in horror. Csevet looked pale but resolute. "Serenity. You must drink."
"Csevet, stop. You must not hurt yourself for our sake. If you wound yourself, you wound us too."
Csevet looked pained. "Serenity. Please do not waste this. It is done."
Maia had to acknowledge the truth of his words. How could he ask Csevet to pour away his lifeblood onto the barren rocks? So he nodded, and Csevet offered up his palm again. It was not a great deal of blood, only enough to pool in the hollow of his hand. But it was more nourishment than Maia had received in a day and a night, and more precious than liquid gold.
Maia dipped his head and drank.
It was warm, still warm from being inside Csevet, still warm from his beating heart. It flowed thicker than water, it tasted richer than wine. Maia lapped at it, his tongue brushing the skin. Csevet made a small sound, and Maia froze.
"Did we hurt you?"
"No, Serenity. We were merely startled. All is well." Csevet smiled in reassurance, but his eyes were very wide.
Maia drank, slow and careful, as gentle as he could, while Csevet breathed in and out, his pulse fluttering. When he swayed on his knees, Maia caught him in the circle of his arms.
"We are glad you are here with us," Maia said, as they lay side by side in the darkness, "though it is unfair to wish for you to share our misfortune."
"Serenity. We would not wish to be anywhere else except by your side."
Impulsively, he said, "Call me Maia. I am hardly emperor of anything now, except this lump of rock. And I rather think the gulls have claimed it."
"Maia, then." Perhaps Csevet was merely indulging him, but the gentle warmth in his eyes sent a secret thrill through Maia. "Would you choose not to be emperor, if you could?" He was letting his guard down, to even dare such a question. It skirted treason, for them both.
Maia had thought on the question many times, before and after the attempts on his throne and his life. "I know there are worse alternatives. But I am aware how ill suited I am to this task. You know so much more than me about what an emperor should do. I rely on you, every day, for your guidance and advice."
Csevet smiled. "Do not doubt your own abilities, Maia. I could not do what you do. The decisions you have made-are sometimes surprising. But they are wise, and just, and kind. I am proud to serve you."
Maia felt his cheeks heat.
Maia stayed awake while Csevet slept tucked against his side. His fever had broken, leaving a strange calm. Csevet had exhausted his own strength, sustaining Maia, and now it was Maia's turn to watch over him.
Cstheio, Lady of the Stars. Please be kind to this man. He has always been there for me, ever since the first day we met. Please help us. Please guide us home.
A light appeared, low on the horizon, like a star come down from heaven. It shone steady and unwavering, growing brighter. The blaze of lamps, the beat of propellers.
Maia took Csevet by the hand, and he watched and waited, as their hope flew nearer.
- fin -