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"She was lost in her longing to understand."
- Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Love in the Time of Cholera
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Even with her eyes closed she knew he was there. She knew the sun hung proudly in the sky, the clouds in fluffy wisps surrounding its warm entirety. She could indulge the coolness of the green shadows that scattered along her body as they laid under the vibrant honey apple tree.
She could feel a smile crawl on her face when she felt his lips plant delicate kisses on her eyelids.
"Are you falling asleep on me?" he had asked her with a hint of a smiling note.
"Shh," she replied, her eyebrows lifting a bit but her eyes still remaining shut. "I'm trying to fall asleep on you."
His heavenly laugh made wildflowers bloom in her ears. "You know I'll have to go soon. Don't you want to look at me?"
When she opened her eyes, curious amethyst orbs looked back into them. One of them was scrunched a bit from his lopsided smile and lowered blonde eyebrow. A thoughtful, boyish expression played on his face. Subtle, barely visible freckles were dusted along his nose and cheeks, covered under the natural rosy flush of his lively-hood. Untamed waves of gold fell like sunshine along his face, covering part of his forehead and even masking some of his violet eye. He was beautiful, even at an upside down angle. "There," he said in a breathy chuckle. "Now I can see your lovely eyes."
She could feel the slightest bit of heat rush to her cheeks. "You always see my eyes," she countered with an arched brow and a grin.
"But I never remember them..." His tone suddenly was dipped into a implicit sadness they both shared. "When we wake up, I'll forget what they look like... and you'll forget what I look like, too. Or that I exist."
She frowned. Her head lifted from his lap as she sat up, then turned to face him. His violet eyes were darkened now, glued to his palms that always so desperately tried to hold onto her. Countless times had his fingers ran through her hair and arms took her small figure so perfectly, only to wake up and watch her dissolve in his head and between his fingertips like sand. Her hand found his cheek and his eyes were brought up to meet hers.
In a optimistic smile, she said, "At least we always come back to each other every night... and maybe one day... we really will be able to meet like this."
Her smile was and always has been a contagious thing to him. "Yeah, that's true.."
This time she flashed her perfect white teeth at him before leaning in to kiss him.
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One.
pastel
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She was drowning.
Well, only for a split second.
Pitched laughter filled her ears right after springing up from her bed. She wiped the water from her face and saw her three troublesome siblings laughing at her with a wooden bucket in their tiny hands. All boys who shared her prominent features; darkened brown hair with glittery golden eyes and olived skin. It was almost impossible to decipher who was who because all three looked so much alike. Marcus, Micheal, and Matthew. And then there she was, the oldest out of all seven of them.
"Boys!" she screeched, instilling enough fear into them to send them running. "Ugh... you've ruined my bed!"
"Maisie, it's your turn to feed the horses," her middle sister, Madison, poked her head in. "Mabel didn't feed them last night so they'll be hungry."
"And why didn't she feed them last night?" Maisie demanded to know as she lugged her soaked self out of bed to gather the blankets and sheets.
The middle sister shrugged. "She was probably out with her boyfriend."
Maisie groaned, gathering what she could in her arms and making her way to the laundry line outside. "Clean the hen house out for me, won't you? I need to take care of this..."
"And if I don't?" Madison challenged.
"Then I'll tell mother you're the one who broke grandmother's lamp," the older sister glared.
"That wasn't my fault and you know it! It was the boys!" Madison retorted with reddened ears. "Ugh. Fine!"
"Thank you~," Maisie purred in delight, making her way to the back.
Her mother and four aunts all sat in a circle around the laundry pool, laughing and gossiping about the newest village drama. Like how Diana Fowler was caught leaving Captain Derry's quarters. Or how Roger Ghastly was about to have a new child when he and his current wife were in a very rocky state in their relationship. Or that there was another bar brawl at the pub between two sailors once again. Maisie could only roll her eyes at the stories her aunts spun about the village dwellers. Don't get her wrong, she loved all her aunts but at times they became headaches. Her mother would even agree.
"So then I said, 'Honey, I understand one of your eyes is made of glass, but surely even you can see how horrid Derry looks!'" Her aunt Eudora snickered, cuing everyone else to burst into a fit of laughter. Maisie's mother, however, only smiled out of courtesy. Much like Maisie, she didn't care much for gossip.
"UGH, Derry is such a borish man to begin with," her second aunt, Kimberly added. "Once I made the mistake of asking him to join me for dinner and you want to know what he told me? He said he couldn't because he had to see his son that evening! Can you believe him? Using his son as an excuse to stay away from me. The nerve of that man!"
Maisie inwardly laughed to herself as she began to lay her blankets out to dry.
"Oh, don't be like that, Kimberly," Maisie's mother finally spoke up, her voice like warm tea compared to her aunts' toxic sneers. "I've spoken to Derry once or twice before. He's very kind and does his best to protect this village. Besides, since the death of his wife, he's really stepped up as a father-"
"Hmph. It's only been a year since Cristine's death and I don't see him wallowing around like a widower," her third aunt, Penelope pointed out. "He seems to have a pep in his step, if anything! Especially around Diana!"
"In case you have forgotten, sisters," Maisie's mother chuckled, but it had no kind of humor behind it. "Diana is a widow herself. So what if they're consoling with each other? You all have yet to be married, there's no possible way you four can understand the loss of a spouse. Leave them be."
Maisie smiled at her mother. That was always like her; to defend those who couldn't defend themselves. A trait she and Maisie's father both possessed.
"Alright, Beatrice, you win," Maisie's fourth aunt, Rosalie huffed. "Aye, you really are Myrick's wife, huh? Always gotta be everyone's knight in shining armor."
Maisie's mother's smile grew even wider and her cheeks became like rosebuds. "Indeed I am..."
Maisie couldn't help but sigh wistfully. How she adored her mother and father's love.
Years ago, long before Maisie was even a thought, her father was a sailor. A sky pirate, to be exact.
The tales regarding the pirates of the sky have always been used to scare children into obeying their mothers or eating every last bite on their plate during supper. Stories of scary, bearded men with big ships and a crew of bandits that plucked back little boys and girls from their beds as they slept. Maisie had friends who truly believed those absurd stories and do their best to stay on their elders' good sides.
Maisie, for one, never believed those stories. Well, never fully. She couldn't believe all pirates were bad because her father was a pirate himself.
Myrick Caverleau was his name. One of the most notorious and brilliant shipmen of his time. Although, Myrick didn't have a gold tooth or a silver hook, or a bird that perched itself right on his shoulder. If anything, Myrick had the brightest pearly whites she'd ever seen, and he had both hands, she'll have you know. And he hated sqwaking birds...
From an outsider's perspective, one might think he was a wealthy business man. He dressed in a very sophisticated fashion and his brown, curly hair was always tidy and slick and his jaw was always clean-shaven. One could even suggest he was a handsome man. Pirates aren't supposed to be handsome, now are they? They also aren't supposed to be the respected general of the king's royal naval fleet.
But he is.
Suppose it's more appropriate to say he was a pirate. Ever since he met Beatrice and fell in love with her, he walked away from that life to be with her. And, most importantly, to raise Maisie and her siblings.
The King of ReLeonna knew of her father's reputation and offered to make him his general of his naval army. No one knew the skies like Myrick did, the king knew this better than anyone else. With obvious reluctance, Myick agreed. Agreeing to this meant giving up a life of expedition and adventure, and devoting his sacrifice and will to the king and the army alone. But to him, Maisie's mother was worth all the more.
So now, Myrick lives out his days as a general and not as a pirate. One could easily still see the signature toothy grin all pirates possessed, however.
"Speaking of which, where is the man?" Kimberly asked Maisie's mother.
"Working," she replied simply, dragging one of the boys's clothes along the rigid sheet metal in the pool. "He's off in the Eastern Isles now, working on a diplomacy mission with the neighboring kingdom."
"Don't you miss him?" Rosalie asked.
"More than anything," Beatrice hummed. "But... I trust that he'll return to me. He always has."
"What about you, Maisie?"
Maisie jumped a bit at the call of her name, dropping a clothing pin. She looked over at the group of women dumbly, hoping they didn't know she had been eavesdropping. "Pardon, ma'am?"
"Do you miss having a male figure around?" Eudora repeated, obviously baiting Maisie to give her something worth her efforts of asking. "Or perhaps, you already do~?"
Maisie laughed as a bit. Not because she was embarrassed or nervous, but because her Aunt's attempts to put others on spot was always funny to watch. "I miss my father, Auntie Eudora. And, no, I don't... whatever that means."
"Come now, darling-you're almost eighteen! Surely there must be a fine young man nipping at your heels by now!" Interjected Kimberly.
"No, Auntie Kimberly..." Maisie said politely as she continued with hanging up her sheets. "No boy 'nipping at my heels' will ever catch my favor. I'd prefer it if he shake my hand or said hello like a normal person."
"That's my girl," Beatrice grinned proudly at her daughter. "Either way, no normal kind of boy is suitable for my Maisie. He'd have to be spontaneous. Adventurous, even! But, with a good heart. Good looks couldn't hurt as well-"
"Beatrice, I think you're describing Myrick again!" Rosalie huffed. "Maisie deserves a big, handsome, manly man. One who can take good care of her and their strapping children!"
"I can take perfectly good care of myself, Auntie Rosie-"
"No, no, no, Maisie needs a scholar! Someone with brains and riches," Penelope insisted. "Someone who can buy her all the gowns in the world!"
"I'm more than happy with what we have here, Auntie Penny-"
"A scholar? How boring!" Eudora interjected. "No, no, Maisie, get yourself a man who goes by his own rules. Tough as leather but a gentleman as well."
"I... don't think-"
"Ugh, you all are so impractical! Don't you want to put into consideration of what Maisie wants?" Kimberly spoke up.
Maisie let out a breath of relief. "Yes, thank you, Auntie Kim-"
"A prince!" she exclaimed. "A prince will do her just fine! And besides, when she becomes a princess, imagine all the luxuries we can have!"
The other three aunts decided that was the best, and apparently... most practical... choice for Maisie. Maisie and her mother exchanged a defeated look while the other three all chattered excitedly among themselves about what they would be able to buy thanks to her princely husband's riches.
A/N: It's a short first chapter but there she is. Thar she is? *snickers* pirate jokes.
also, ignore that it says draft one. This is the final draft. It just... wouldn't let me change the label name. Now I know better.
kbye