Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own the Leviathan, or any of the characters pertaining to it. I just like to torture them.
A pair of star-crossed lovers.
-William Shakespeare-
Part One: Star-Crossed
Alek could feel the violent shudders underneath his feet as the flares pelted the side of the Leviathan. He struggled with the unwieldy controls on the engine, fighting to keep balance with Klopp. Normally he wasn't allowed out of his chambers, but those stupid engineers for the ship still hadn't master the techniques enough to control the air beast during an attack. So Alek was left in charge of the left side of the Leviathan.
Sparks flew in every direction, shocking his arms even through his protection. Oil stained his finger tips. Screams filtered to his ears from the spine, sending tingles down his spine. But his top concern had to be the engines; without them, the Leviathan would be stranded in mid-air.
A sudden explosion ripped through the rattling of the gears and pistons. That had better be one of the German spotters going down. If it wasn't…he wasn't going to think about that.
With a screech, the remaining spotters skittered away. The throttle turned blue. Alek heaved a great sigh of relief as he eased on the saunter. It was over. No more deaths to hear with perfect clarity, no more cries of wounded soldiers…sometimes he wondered if he would ever be used to this ugly war.
He and Baurer commented calmly on the multiple problems with the saunters that needed to be addressed to make the Leviathan engineer's lives easier. So there was that balance problem, the timing problem, the gears and pistons might crack in the cold, of course those idiots might break the saunters by pushing the pedal at the wrong time, oh, and on that matter, the pedals needed adjusting on the height…
Alek was interrupted by the shrill whistle declaring that all hand to the spine. He supposed he was included in the hands. Quickly he stumbled out into the great air beast. He scrambled up the iron stairs and started the climb up to the spine. A small ruckus converted his attention. Bovril was somehow loose in the ship and of course he was 'becoming more precipitous', as Dr. Barlow always said. Plus he was annoying the heck out of the crew. So he scooped the furry creature up and stepped onto the spine.
It was a wreck. Bodies lay everywhere, some moaning, and some lay deathly still. Alek wanted to close his eyes. The sickly and eerie sounds of agony sent his stomach down to his feet. Just keep walking, he told himself. But he couldn't tear his eyes from the bodies. All of them had families, people who loved them, maybe children, and now they were gone forever. The families will probably get an abrupt and brief explanation of what happened, from a complete stranger.
One soldier, he noticed was wearing a sloppily made bead bracelet, maybe from a child. One was wearing a locket which could have pictures of loved ones in it. Another body was sporting a strangely tailored uniform, just like the one Dylan always wore…
Suddenly Alek was running. Running towards that body that couldn't be his best friend. No, no, no, was all he thought. It must be another person. Not the invulnerable Dylan.
He knelt down next to the crumpled figure. Spotting a whistle, he clumsily blew the familiar notes he had heard come the various crew and, occasionally, Bovril. It would take some time for a doctor to find them, Alek reckoned, and Dylan might need fast attention.
Alek pushed his panic back. He had to. For Dylan. Ok, he thought. What is the most pressing problem? Well that was easy. Any wounds. A quick check over the showing skin revealed nothing, and most of the…blood…was coming from under the shirt. He steeled himself for any gore, and peeling back the shirt. But there was already a bandage around his chest. Alek frowned. He didn't think that Dylan had any earlier injuries to speak of. Studying the wrappings more closely, he noticed that there was a strange curve to them, an almost feminine touch. And now he realized that the rest of the body was oddly curvy too. Not like a boy's at all. More like a…oh no.
Bovril scampered up to Alek's shoulder. "Mr. Sharp," he said with a giggling sound.
Alek sat despondently in the bare seat next to Dylan's bed, or whatever his-or her- name was. He had been the only person to stay with his best friend all through the night in the sick bay. Dr. Barlow and Volger had occasionally popped in, but never for very long, and Newkirk had work to do. For the umpteenth time, Alek scanned his friend's body, the revealing curves, the small bullet wound in the stomach from the German attack, hoping that he had imagined the...curves that didn't belong on Dylan's body. But they were still there.
Why hadn't Dylan told him? Hadn't Alek told him all of his secrets? Surely there were chances to. So why hadn't he? Maybe Dylan didn't trust him.
Suddenly Dylan's eyes fluttered. "Barking spiders! Its cold!" he or she shrieked, voice an octave higher than usual. Unfocused eyes hazily took in Alek, sitting stunned by the bed. "G'mornin'" came the slurred greeting. "Whatcha staring' at?"
Sighing, Alek said, "You." Finally noticing the open shirt, Dylan gasped. Scrambling franticly for something to cover up, she finally selected the thin sheets on the next bed over, and clutched them to her chest.
"It's too late," he said in a resigned tone. "Everyone has seen."
Her eyes widened. "Everyone?" she looked down at her cursed chest. The unwanted proof.
"Why didn't you tell me, Dylan?" Alek said with barely suppressed tension.
"My name is Deryn, actually. And I tried, I really did, but the stupid Germans always barged in, or you said the wrong thing, and then Lilit-"
Alek cut her off. "Don't bring Lilit into this," he said abruptly.
"Right, so, don't be mad at me! Please!" she was getting stressed now, that much was clear from her raising tones.
"Shhhhh! They might here." Alek warned under his breath. "And…I'm not mad."
"Thank you."
An awkward silence followed.
"Sooo..." she was cut off by Alek's quiet statement.
"I think you're brave."
Deryn just stared at him. Did he really just say that? Really? "What are you talking about Alek? Make sense for me here."
"I think you're brave for trying. I always wished I could be a real boy like you. You know, swearing and spitting and swaggering. I never got to do any of that stuff, and here you come, a girl, and you do it perfectly. So, I'm different. And you fit in. You're brave like that."
The girl was speechless.
"Well, um, I gotta, well, go," Alek mumbled. And he was out the door before the last word was finished.
Beware the snow,
Beware the rain,
Beware the man you think you know
-Catherine Fisher from Incarceron-
Part Two: Beware, Beware
The loud hustle of New York City resonated throughout the Leviathan, making all the crew jumpy. Everyone except Deryn. She was in her element. She had always loved cities like New York; all the different lives clumped together, each separate and each together at the same time. The energy was exciting.
But there was one –major- damper to her mood. She was stuck in a cabin. The captain knew, the crew knew, Newkirk knew, Dr. Barlow knew, and of course, Alek knew. Her secret was out. She was a stupid girl. No one would ever look at her in the same way, the same respectful way, again. No more.
Alek had been busy in the engine room since that night. Sometimes she thought he was avoiding her on purpose. And the more she thought, the more it seemed to be true. In one night, their friendship had died. But maybe, just maybe, something else was born. Alek thought she was brave. Her! Deryn felt herself quickly transforming into a romantic again. She was in danger of squealing. It was hard not too. In fact, it felt delicious.
Snap out of it! She scolded herself. She wasn't a little lassie twirling her skirts at a dance. Or maybe she was…
A loud knocking startled her out of her thoughts. Opening the door, she found Newkirk standing apologetically in front of her.
"Um, the captain says that, since we're getting new passengers, you can, uh, come out of your quarters, I guess…" he stammered lamely.
"We're getting new passengers?" she inquired. Weren't they already heavy enough from the Clanker engines? What was the captain thinking getting more weight from passengers that couldn't contribute?
"Oh, well, yes," he seemed to having trouble talking to her. "They made a rather, um, important request, and people are saying that they paid quite heavily, I guess."
"Well isn't that the problem?" she pressed. "Won't we be too heavy?"
"Captain's shoving out most of Dr. Barlow's equipment, it seems; because she doesn't really need it anymore since those eggs of hers hatched." Newkirk said.
"Well I guess the boffin won't like that much."
Sensing the approaching awkwardness, Deryn rapidly changed the subject. "So I can come out?"
"Well, yes," he said. "You know, as long as you don't cause trouble"
Deryn's eyes narrowed. "Me, cause trouble?" she said through her teeth. "I think you're forgetting who gets your stupid butt out of trouble every time." And with that she slammed the door in his face.
She was halfway into her pants before she remembered that she wasn't allowed to wear her uniform anymore. But she couldn't seem to tear herself out of the familiar cloth.
Tentatively she walked down the platforms until she got to the loading dock at the bottom of the ship. It looked like the entire crew was there. Even the Clankers were out of the engines and had cleaned up. This must be an important person. Deryn allowed herself a small smile at the sight of Alek, with the not-quite cleaned fingernails that still had oil under them. He was talking to Klopp, waving his hands animatedly. She sighed as she imagined his voice, only he was talking to her, telling her…certain things. She shook herself awake. I'm not a lassie, I'm not a lassie…
The captain was welcoming two people on board. One was a hefty man, extremely large, wearing an expensive suit, and the other was a boy about her age. The boy was sturdily built and had cropped golden hair and clear blue eyes that took the ship in with a precise air that Deryn immediately linked to intelligence. She had seen Dr. Barlow do the same thing when she first boarded. It was a trait that was common among the smart people. This new boy was obviously a clever boots. By the way that the captain was graciously welcoming them, it looked like they were important. Or just filthy rich. Maybe both. Probably both.
The boy's eyes scanned the crew, picking out different faces, just looking. But he stopped when he found Alek. He stared. The way he looked at Alek drove shivers up Deryn's spine. It was almost like he wanted the prince. Like he was hungry. It was the look of the hunter.