I had a dream about this and it was a scene that inspired this story for me. I'm not really sure how great this all will work out seeing as I don't have much of a plot line worked out but I figure it should go along like most of what I write. No, I'm not giving up on For the Love of the Night, just taking a slight break to work on this as well.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but some plot ideas.
Raging Seas
Prologue: Welcome to the Dragon
The seas played a tempest across the decks as men worked back and forth to keep the sails billowed and tying down anything that could be swept off by the seas including themselves. The captain stood proudly at his helm, tied to the wheel refusing to retire to his cabins away from the dire elements that swirled around him, his eyes taking in everything at once and calmly shouting out orders through the deafening wind and thunder. His crew were good men that he could trust to get the job done with a little amount of fuss, it was something he depended on to keep him sane at times like these, when it seemed the gods were damning him from above. Few vessels that held men like himself feared such weather, but he managed to keep his nature form doing what it would naturally as it would put their mission into peril of discovery. Playing a double life was not easy, but necessary to his own survival as well as the survival of those he had to protect.
Watching as one of his men grabbed a barrel as it almost made the plunge into the sea, and then begin to tie it down with the rope he had around his own waist. Calling out, "Gavin, grab onto Philip, he's unbound, until he can get tied to the mast again." Another man appeared at the untied man's side to hold onto him and lead him back to the mast to be tied once again. The captain refused to risk anything happening to one of his men, a death at sea was tragic and he would avoid having to report back to any family such a loss that he could not even bring them a body to bury. The storm clouds above his head rolled angrily and he glared at them, his face grim, it seemed as though they had a long night ahead of them. They were heading on a course more North than he wanted but couldn't be helped in this awful of conditions. The spray was like icy bullets against his skin, his fear was that it would cause ice to freeze to the hull and weigh them down, he didn't enjoy sitting any lower in the sea than his full cargo hold made them, it made him nervous.
Any rational sailor knew trying to go against the sea or wind on this night would only result in tragedy. Yet as he turned his eyes to the side, he saw a bright orange glow ahead and felt his heart sink and his stomach sicken, that could only be the dying fire of a wreck. "A wreck off starboard, Cap'n!" one of the crew called and looked up at him, they all knew his rule was to help out any they may come across to need it. His nod meant all it needed to for the crew as they began rushing around to fit the sails for the change of direction and took to the rigging to help in guidance and searching the seas for assessment of the situation. Silently many of them including their captain began sending up prayers for all the lives that were at risk in the torrent of the ocean, and at the mercy of its icy grip of death.
Suddenly screams were head from the water as the wreckage came into view, there weren't many but there were a few and he intended to rescue each of them. It looked odd, this ship had not come to it's current state accidentally, scorch marks and the tell-tale black streaks of gunpowder. It was the air around him though that sizzled with leftover nouveau magia that made him doubt that poorly stored explosives was the cause for such travesty. Someone or something important had been on this ship, and he meant to find out exactly what was going on. This portion of the sea was his territory, well known to many a captain that sailed these parts, so an accident that was most certainly not one was going to be taken up with him directly and met with the full ferocity of his anger.
"The survivors, sir... they've fallen into the ocean..." He heard one of his hands yell through the storm, and he looked for himself to see two or three more it seem to fall into the black depths of their own volition. Eyes as silver as a full moon hardened almost to the look of the dinged metal of some of his men's daggers, there was definitely something going on here that he was unaware of, magic was purposefully causing these survivors to kill themselves off, someone didn't want anyone around to be able to tell tonight's tragic tale. The captain then untied himself from his helm and moved down among his men, sending his first mate up to the wheel immediately.
Pulling off some of his expensive and lavish garments showing just exactly how prosperous his lifestyle still was even with his current career choice, he made his way to the railing that was abreast with the wreckage. "Tie a rope about me..." He searched the murky depths for at least one sign of life and his eyes caught on a small figure clinging desperately to what was left of the deck of the ship. "I'll save what seems to be the only survivor of this tragedy and we'll be back on course..." He grumbled as he rolled up his sleeves and kicked of his boots along with his socks, all that would just drag himself under. The men surrounding him knew better than try to change heir captains mind, the man was hero in their hearts and as stubborn as a mule. All eyes watched as he climbed upon the rail and dove straight into the rolling waves, then resurface to begin to swim as if he was born a fish natural to the sea.
Coming up to the form, he saw it was a girl and he saw her arms were going limp, probably numbing from the cold of the water. Pulling the smaller body against his own, he began swimming back to his men without even looking at her face that seemed the nuzzle against his neck, icy lips against his pulse point. At least the movement let him know that she was alive, the waves were making the return journey much harder. Carrying another body especially one so adorned in such voluminous skirts weighed them down. So much so that with each wave that pulled them under he felt he was set back farther from the ship even with the men pulling him in, he spent more time getting back to the surface than toward the ship. His mind slipped to the image of his poor mother lying in pain on stone floors and his best friend as well as first mate who worriedly awaited him back on the ship. The damned war was his strength as much as their memories were to him as was the life of this one precious survivor of an intentional tragic attack.
Finally as another tumult of water pushed them almost against the wood of his vessels hull his men finally began pulling them from the water to the deck. Taking a firm grip around the young lady's waist, he was secure in feeling her breath against his skin assuring him that she was still among the living. Once they were both safely lying upon the deck did he finally look down to view the face of the beauty he had saved. Long chestnut curls clung to her face and neck, her eyes fluttered open to reveal their golden orbs as she coughed up the seawater she had swallowed. It was only pure shock that hit him in the stomach as he was most certain he had just saved the little princess of the golden trio and Order of the Phoenix. His heart almost stopped as well when he knew she recognized him and he waited for her reaction, either fear or anger he was sure. When nothing came he saw her sit up holding her head as his first mate came to join them.
When the other man got a look at just who was lying on the wooden deck looking a bit worse for wear he just about fell over, "Hermione..." then turning his face to the other man, he saw his Captain, best mate, like a brother to him just staring at her as if any minute he expected to be cursed off his bum. Yet she only sat up for seconds once his eyes returned to her, when she began to fall back, they all watched as the Captain lunged forward keeping her from hitting the ground. That was his first sign, and once the man picked her up without a word to any of the others, the first mate took charge ignoring the nagging feeling that he might need to follow them below deck but ignored it, his presence up top was most needed especially at the helm that he was now returning to as he barked out orders.
The skies still dark as night with clouds provided no directional help, but it was not a necessity for their ship to find its course. Lighting brightened up their faces from time to time, allowing them to see what parts their lanterns could not light. Turning to look out across the water he whispered softly to himself, "Welcome to the Dragon... Lady Hermione."
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Amata Mercy