A/N: I don't own Smurfs, obviously. This is a mature work of fiction and may contain dirty jokes, sexual situations, actual sex, violence, gore, horrible puns, real consequences to actions, and characters who are not infallible.
So I've been working on this alongside Smurfs Forever, this one has been my 'internet-less' work, written mostly on a notebook. I decided to wait until I was finished with it to post it up, as this is a far shorter story than my main work. This work is a bit different than my other stories, as it's told third person limited from Marco's point of view.
Warnings: Explicit Sex, Violence
A few name pronunciations:
Aofie = E-fah
Iseul = E-zuul
Yeou = You
Croí glan = Cree Glan (Pure Heart)
Ngconde = Con-dee
Marco Smurf and the Fox Fey
The cell was dark, with a salty-moldy smell that told the sailor he was underground but still near the ocean. The absence of the hood that had covered his head for a day or more felt good nonetheless. He landed hard on the cool stone floor after being shoved from behind into the small room.
"Make yourself at home, blue boy." The slaver chuckled. "Tomorrow you'll meet someone very interested in exotic little elves like yourself." The troll was dressed expensively, fine silks draped in a loose robe about his person.
"Come the morning, you'll be surprised. Or my name isn't Marco Smurf!" The blue sailor announced confidently as he picked himself up off the floor. He'd been captured by would-be slavers before. No doubt he'd run afoul of them again, too. The smurf trusted his ability to escape though. Either from his current cell or after money had exchanged hands. The well-traveled fey had no less than eight 'masters' he'd left during his travels. This would be no different, he was sure.
"So you say." The troll chuckled. "But I'm thinking your new Mistress knows how to keep your ilk in line." To the smurf it looked like the silks were wasted on the homely troll.
The spice trader remained silent, giving his captor a stony stare. The orange skinned fey snorted and slammed the door to the cell, the sound of the tumblers engaging in the lock echoed loudly.
The smurf waited until he heard the footsteps leaving before he began to inspect his surroundings. The window was high and small, too small for him to squeeze out. Cold stone walls were made up of what looked to be granite blocks bigger than himself. Even if he could find one loose he wouldn't be able to move it. He looked up. Instead of rafters the ceiling was a dome of stone, connected to a smaller arch near the door.
Marco smiled, a plan forming in his mind.
The guards opened the door, heading to the lump of rags in the corner.
"Wake up, grawp!" One of the trolls called as they neared.
Marco opened his mouth, letting his compass necklace drop back to dangle and shifted his weight. His left arm strained to hold him braced at the top of the small arch over the door to the cell. With his right hand he grabbed the door and used that to slow his fall from the arch.
The guards kicked the lump and uncovered the carefully bundled rags.
The sailor smurf hit the ground of the cell grinning and pulled the door closed as he backed out. The tumblers made a most satisfying clicking sound.
"Toodle-oo! Ah-hahahahaha!" He couldn't resist taunting his captors. The guards rushed at the door and the smurf backed up a step, preparing to turn and leave.
A pair of strong arms pinned him from behind. He felt fine silk on his back. Oh smurf.
"Clever little elf. But not clever enough!" The slaver laughed. Marco felt a sharp blow to his head and the world went dark.
00000
Sounds came back in bits and pieces.
"...damaged? You will drop the price ... needs to be healed." The voice was a rich feminine contralto with an accent the smurf couldn't place. He kept his eyes closed, feigning unconsciousness.
"I assure you, Madam, he is perfectly healthy. Our healers have already mended him. He does not wake because they dosed him with a slumbering drought." It was the silk wearing troll.
"I see." The female, likely his new 'Mistress', was somewhere to his right. He suddenly felt vulnerable in his prone position on the cot.
The sound of coins clinking told him gold was exchanging hands. Too bad for the 'Mistress' then. She'd soon lose her investment.
"It has been a pleasure doing business with you, Madam Yeou." The troll sounded smug. He probably thought he had taken her for a rube. He had, in a way, given Marco's escape record.
"Oh, the pleasure is all mine." The female purred. Marco was tempted to peek, to see this Madam Yeou before she interacted with him.
"Have a safe journey." The slaver bid formally, then the sound of a door closing ended the conversation.
"You can open your eyes now, seumeopeu." Drat. Somehow the female knew he was awake. For a moment the sailor wondered if she was bluffing. He could easily feign sleep to call her bluff, but it was a pointless game. He opened his eyes, sitting up in the cot.
She looked like a tiny human, her lack of wings made him guess that she was some type of elf. Her skin was lightly tanned and her almond shaped eyes were yellow-gold. The female wore a purple robe-like attire that was trimmed in silver and trailed the floor.
She brushed her red hair aside as she crossed the small space between them. Slowly she cupped her hand gently under his chin. A spicy scent invaded his nose, likely her perfume.
"So young. You almost seem a child." She smiled. It was an unnerving smile. Predatory.
"I doubt very much that it would matter if I were." Marco scoffed.
Her smile widened. "You have fire." Lifting her slave's chin, she traced her other hand across his neck.
The sailor realized something was afoot too late when warmth encircled his neck. The smurf's hands darted to the area. A warm silken band now had him collared.
The redhead laughed. "The brighter the flame, the better the lantern once tamed." Still wearing that unnerving smile, the female headed to the door. "I will enjoy educating you. Rest well, pet. We have a long journey ahead." She shut the door as she left.
It was a ship, Marco knew this from the familiarity of the movement, the smell of salt, and the creak of the timber as the waves jostled the boat. From the troll's departure, he was sure they were still at port.
That meant he still had time.
The sailor touched the collar again. From the annoying tingle that met his fingertips, it was obviously magic. To what end? Tracking? Punishment? Both?
The only way to find out was to test it.
There were no windows, so he was sure he was below the water line. The door's hinges were either tucked into the frame or on the outside. He tested the door.
To his utter surprise it was unlocked and opened easily. Suddenly suspicious, he crept out cautiously. There were no alarms, no twinge of magic from the collar.
Slowly, Marco found the ladder leading to the upper decks and headed up. He saw no other living beings until he cracked open the door to the main deck.
Two blue haired sprites flitted about the mast, securing the ropes of the mainsail while there were three other fey finishing preparations on deck that he could see. An imp with horns like a ram lashed a rope across some barrels. Then he headed over to begin cranking the wheel to raise the anchor with a portly dark skinned fairy who was missing most of a wing. A creature who looked much like a lizard mopped the deck. From his vantage he couldn't see the gang plank.
He looked for cover close to the door, spotting a single crate that wouldn't cover him completely. The sailor smurf took a deep breath and sprang into action, darting out of the door and diving behind the crate. Almost immediately one of the sprites called out and the others on deck turned to look at his hiding spot.
A quick scan of the area and Marco spotted the gangplank. He ran for it, jumping over the fairy and imp as they dove for him, then he rolled to avoid a diving sprite. He was down the gangplank and onto the pier before the sailors could recover. By the time the assorted fey had charged after him, he had wove himself into the crowd. With his smurfy blue skin, the lead wouldn't last long unless he could find a cloak. He'd have to borrow one.
Shouts echoed behind him above the noise of the crowd as he ran into a marketplace. The smells of baked goods and cooking meats changed quickly from the food stalls blurring by. Cloak, cloak, even a blanket would do! Then he could lay low, figure out how to get the collar off and get back to securing spices for the village.
As if thinking of the silken band awoke the thing, the collar stopped. Pain and pressure assaulted the smurf's neck as he was jerked to a stop like an overzealous dog on a lead. Marco landed on his back, winded.
The crowd parted, curious onlookers staring at blue sailor. He gasped for air and tried to force oxygen back down his sore neck into his lungs. The smurf spotted the two sprites as they circled then dove.
"He's a quick little fellow, eh Flo?" Said the first as he landed. The other tittered as she circled in.
"Too bad our passenger is a decent mage." Flo snickered. The two sprites didn't touch the winded fugitive, standing sentry until the imp and fairy arrived.
"You two." The fairy started. "You did not harm him did you?"
"Jet and me never touched 'em." The female water sprite protested.
"Aye. Mr. Blue here jerked flat like a rat on a chain." Jet laughed. "Ye should'a seen it!"
"Mmm." The fairy grunted, watching Marco. "Aaron, take his feet. I will get his shoulders."
The sailor smurf considered struggling. If the ship left with him on it, he could wind up anywhere on earth! He wheezed as he jerked a foot away from the ram-horned fey.
"'Ere now, nunna that!" Aaron grouched as he caught the offending appendage. Both imp and fairy tightened their grip on him.
There was little the explorer smurf could do as they carried him back to the ship. He still twisted and tried to break free. By the time the group crested the gangplank onto the ship, the sailor was exhausted.
Madam Yeou was on the deck with an amused expression on her face. The crew dumped Marco onto the deck at her feet.
"Your first lesson, pet," He could hear the amusement in his Mistress's voice. "You cannot run."
Anger welled up sharply within him. "Trust me when I say, Madam, that I have not yet begun to smurf! Ah-hahahahaha!" His defiant retort didn't seem to phase her. The redhead's smile didn't leave. Behind her a tall stocky looking fey about twice Marco's height stood in captain's regalia with a tri-cornered hat. The male stared at the prone smurf with an annoyed expression.
"Now that we've caught your cargo," the word cargo was spat with disdain, "We can set sail." A chorus of 'Aye Captain' came from the sailors on deck and the crew pulled the gang plank up.
He only had one last chance! Marco jumped to his feet and dashed towards the side of the boat. Yeou's laughter warned him and he stopped just as the pressure on his neck began again. He clawed at the collar but it was like trying scratch off his own skin.
"While I enjoy watching my pets learn," The redhead began, "Captain Rackham suggested shortaning your leash." Her head tilted like a predator considering their prey.
"You can not see it, can you?" The fey held up her hand and made a gesture. A yellow energy came from her hand and led to the collar. It looked like a finely wrought golden chain leash.
Yeou's lyrical voice seemed to follow the rhythm of the waves. "The only way to free yourself would be to kill me. But you cannot do that, can you, seumeopeu?"
No. He couldn't. One thing Marco prided himself on was keeping to the smurfy way. No matter the danger he was in, he'd never debased himself by trying to kill. It would make him no better than the villainous slavers. That meant he was literally chained until he could find an alternate way of escape. He was sure there'd be another way. It was a spell and spells can always be broken.
Until then, Marco could only watch as the wind filled the sails and the land disappeared into the horizon.
00000
In the days that followed, Marco found himself falling into a pattern. He'd awaken, eat, and find something useful to do. The smurf never liked sitting idle, especially not while at sea. Even if it was swabbing the deck alongside Yeou's other slave or peeling potatoes for the cook. That seemed to be the extent the other sailors trusted him. It also helped him avoid thinking about his current situation, since his 'mistress' stayed mostly below deck.
Only Iseul, the lizard-like fellow slave, and the cook spoke with him regularly. The reptilian had identified himself as an imugi. He was commonly shackled because of his own escape attempts. He seemed to like mopping and was often on deck swabbing.
"She claims she likes to watch us learn." The dragon-kin huffed. "It is more that she enjoys watching our spirits break."
Marco nodded as he plopped his mop back into the water bucket. "Might I ask you... do you know why she took your freedom?"
Iseul ran a hand down his hairless head, tracing the long sky-blue stripes that ran down his skull and along his spine to the tip of his tail.
"The same reason she aquired you. Our proclaimed mistress has a fondness for blue." The imugi was silent for a moment, running his mop along the deck.
"There is something you should know, that I overheard when she sought to buy you." He looked around as if the redhead would jump out from behind a nearby barrel. "She has plans for you. I do not know what they are precisely. But her kind are not known for their kindness. Beware."
"What is her kind exactly?" Marco ventured. By the lizard's accent he was from the same part of the world as the female.
"Kumiho." The word was said in the same manner that some smurfs whispered Gargamel's name.
It still meant nothing to the sailor smurf. "And what is that?"
"A dangerous fox yokwe. They can take many forms but always there is a bit of fox for sharp eyes to see. That is why Yeou wears her clothing so long it drags the ground. She has fox feet." Iseul leaned towards his comrade. "Kumiho love to eat liver. Fresh liver." The scaled slave poked Marco in the stomach to emphasize just how fresh.
The smurf swallowed nervously. "I see."
"What of your kind? I have never heard of a smurf." The reptilian tilted his head.
"We are a secretive bunch." The sailor deflected.
The imugi laughed. "So I see."
It became a game for Iseul to try and pick up information from the spice trader.
"Think of it as practice to avoid the less honorable types finding your secrets." The lizard had teased. The smurf was quick to learn that despite his reptilian appearance, his fellow slave was far more intelligent.
He'd also learned more about imugi. They were a foreign fey that could become dragons.
"And not those beasts you westerners call dragons. Proper dragons. Yong." He'd admonished.
To become a dragon, Iseul would have to pass three trials. Courage, Perseverance, and Faith. He'd already passed one, which allowed his kind to row limbs from their snake-like primary form.
"It was the trial of perserverance. As is with all trials, one does not know it is a trial until they complete it." He raised his shackled hands. "This, I think, may be a second trial. Though it may be a hardship that life brings." Marco had wished him the best of luck either way.
00000
As days often do at sea, they began to blur together. It seemed the Captain had prepared for an extended journey and they had no stops. Marco kept the time by cutting small nicks into his bunk with a pilfered knife. He was careful to hide the marks on the wall side and tuck the knife near there as well.
It was nearing a month at sea. That was worrisome.
The sailor smurf let the mattress go and lay on his bunk on his stomach. He pulled up his compass to stare at it. Madam Yeou hadn't taken it like he'd expected and he was glad. It was enchanted, the needle pointing to the wearer's home instead of north.
According to Papa, the item was his mother's. It was left behind by the smurfette because she was smurfnapped. The elder smurf had given the compass to him to ensure that he'd be able to find his way home no matter where he was. He flipped it over, finger tracing the inscription.
May your wonderings always lead you home.
When he'd first been given the thing, Marco thought that the inscription was meant for him. Another subtle plead for him to stay at the village. He'd learned then that Papa's mother had no sense of direction and the inscription was put there by Papa's papa.
He rolled over onto his side, one hand clutching the compass. He had nightmares occasionally that his heart no longer called smurf village home and the compass dial would spin and spin.
He was certain that wouldn't happen tonight. As his eyes closed, he thought of meals surrounded by his brothers. The imagined chatter lulled him to sleep.
The loud FWEEET of a whistle awoke the smurf. That was Captain Rackham signaling the start of the day for those with no windows in their rooms. Marco sat up and stretched. Today he'd help out the cook. Splashing some water on his face, the sailor smurf headed out. His room was one floor below the mess and the middle floor below deck. The lowest floor of the ship was used for cargo.
The cook intrigued him. Aofie had an accent that seemed to be a mixture of Miner's and Gutsy's which was strangely comforting. Her skin was a light brown with darker brown spots that blended into one large brown patch on her back. Marco rapped lightly on the door to the kitchen.
The cook's melodic soprano answered. "Tha could only be mah bonnie Marco! Come in!"
She was stirring something in a pan as the smurf entered. She had on her usual attire, a modified apron dress that barely covered her. He could see the spots on her sides as the pattern became one color.
"I been askin Cap'n ta throw tha nets out tadae. Ye be willin ta help?" Aofie finally looked up from her work.
Her attention pulled Marco's away from looking at her. "Of course." It would be a nice distraction... at least more of a distraction than appreciating the cook's profile was being.
He started helping with breakfast, it was the usual oatmeal and hashed potatoes. He was used to the layout of the galley and they worked in companionable silence. The smurfed enjoyed these moments, it was comforting.
"So how will we keep the larger fish from the nets?" The sailor smurf finally mused as they finished up. Of all the vessels he'd been on, human and fey, he'd never gotten to ask.
"Why, magic a'course!" Aofie answered cheerfully. "It'n'a a tiny vessel about that don't stay safe by it." She picked up the large pot and started heading towards the mess. Silently, the smurf picked up the other two food dishes and headed after her.
Once breakfast was over and the dishes done, the netting was pulled out of the large storage closet on deck. It was in good repair, likely a side effect of being enchanted. Marco followed instructions as the cook and several of the crew fed the net into the water.
The smurf didn't notice Iseul until the imugi spoke from beside him. He jumped, startled.
"I still find it odd how you are friendly to the ones who help keep us caged." The reptilian huffed quietly.
"It's not their fault." The spice trader leaned in, almost whispering. "I've overheard them complaining that Yeou was less than honest about her intentions."
"Less than 'onest?!" Apparently the ram-horned imp had impeccable hearing. "That witch trapped Cap'n Morgan in a magical contract! Bloody strumpet as 'im by the 'airy ones, she does!" Aaron growled. "I wouldn' trust 'er enough t' polish me 'orns on 'er arse as I knocked 'er through the air!"
The two sprites snorted in laughter. "Do it, Aaron!" Called Jet.
"We would not want to do that." The one-winged fairy placed a hand on the imp's shoulder. "The contract had two requirements. That we do our best to keep her from harm and that we see her journey completed. Harming her would inflict whatever curse she wove into the words upon the Captain."
"I'm all talk an' you know it, Con. Still," The imp pulled off his hat and spat in it. It was a warding gesture. "That witch only touched the page like she was readin it. Cap'n didn' know what 'it 'im until 'e signed 'is name."
Marco shuddered, recalling how the collar was placed on his neck. He glanced at the cook, she was leaning against the railing and looking at the deck. Her expression was troubled.
"Kumiho are dangerous." Iseul agreed. "To become one a fox must live for a thousand years. They learn many tricks in that time."
"A thousand years old, eh?" Flo's antennae twitched and she shifted uneasily. Jet crossed his fingers and crossed himself in the human gesture.
"At least." The reptilian gripped the mop handle tighter. "They are one of the most dangerous youkwe."
"I believe it." The fairy looked out at the floats bobbing in the waves. "Is there a way to break her magic?" He looked at the dragon-kin.
The imugi held up his shackled wrists. "If I knew, I would not be here."
"It's a harsh thing te be held captive." Aofie gripped the railing and scowled at the door to the ladder leading below deck. "Cap'n never allowed it afore now, an fer good reason. We all be on yer side, lads. Tha Marlin's Cap'n and crew dinnae truck with slavers."
"'Ere 'ere!" Aaron agreed.
The haul was plentiful, the full nets took the group time to gather up. They were soaked with sea spray and water from the fish by the end of it. The brown skinned cook had droplets of water clinging to her skin. She tossed a fish playfully at Marco, laughing all the while. The fish took him by surprise and slapped him in the chest. The smurf laughed as well and hoped it wasn't obvious he'd been staring at the female fey.
In the moment, with the sun glinting off of the droplets on dappled skin, he'd been entranced. The smurf sailor felt familiar stirrings. He was smitten.
"The navigator smurf jolted. "I need to smurf something." He said in a rush, heading below deck just short of running.
"Marco!" Both Iseul and Aofie called after him, but he ignored them. The light of day disappeared above him as he clambered down the ladder. The smurf made it to his room and nearly flung the mattress off the bunk. He counted the marks, ignoring the cook as she barged in.
"Marco, what in tha seven seas has gotten inta ye?" The chef demanded.
Some simple math showed him what he'd suspected. The blue skinned male sat back in defeat. "It's spring."
Aofie was silent for a moment. "I dinne ken."
Marco looked at her with worry marring his features. "It's... It's a dangerous time to be a smurf."
She sat down beside him, not realizing her proximity was utterly distracting. "Why?"
Her look of concern had his heart thrumming rapidly. "Spring Fever. Every spring smurfs lose their heads. All for love. I may start s-acting very silly."
The female giggled. "Ye mean smurfs go inte season?"
"In a fashion." The sailor admitted. "The danger lies in those who may try to exploit that." He'd been lucky in that he'd never gotten into that sort of trouble during spring. Yeou was dangerous in that regard. While he certainly wasn't attracted to the fox's temperament, he couldn't say the same about physical attraction.
Fortunately for him, the cook beside him out shown that slight interest by far. He was more worried for her. What would his 'mistress' do if she found out his infatuation? But could he fight through a spring on his own? It'd been years since he'd been alone during this time of year.
Usually it was more a passing curiosity on the fey that he'd courted. Even when things became physical, they tended to fizzle after spring was over. That was when his love for travel and the open air of the sea took hold of him. He wasn't proud to say he'd left a few broken hearts behind.
He blinked away the memories and glanced at his female companion. She appeared to be as lost in thought as he'd been moments ago. He watched her expressions change, finally settling on a blush.
"Marco..." Aofie hesitantly started, looking at him intently. She continued after his questioning 'hm'. "What made ye realize it was spring?"
"You." That answer made her blush spread, turning her face a rosy brown.
She shoved him suddenly in what he was sure was a fit of embarrassment. "Dinnae be playin tricks on me, Marco!" The cook accused him.
He took her hand. "I told you I may act silly." He paused, looking at her. "Your beauty was entrancing, the water on your skin sparkled like stars." The smurf knew he was blushing. "I wanted to give you back the fish you'd thrown and ask you for a kiss."
"Ye shoulda done it, ye charmer." Aofie murmured as she leaned in and pressed her lips to his softly. She made a happy sound when he responded and they kissed deeply. He was gentle and patient, moving his hand from his knee to cup her cheek lovingly.
"Bubbles." The smurf said as they pulled away from each other.
"Eh?" The cook blinked in confusion.
"Your spots, they remind me of bubbles." As he spoke, Marco traced a finger from her shoulder to elbow.
She blushed again. "Says tha lad with skin as blue as tha sky." A knock on the door broke the spell the pair were under.
"Are you well, Marco?" It was Iseul.
"Just smurfy." The sailor grinned at Aofie. She smiled back, making his heart flutter.
00000
The next week sped by faster than usual in a flurry of secret kisses and little gifts given to the brown skinned fey. He'd gotten rather good at making paper flowers and a different one adorned her wavy brown tresses every day.
He was awoken from a dead sleep by cannon fire. The ship lurched as whoever was at the wheel turned hard to port. The smurf was on his feet even as the muffled cries of 'Pirates! Pirates!' came from above and below him.
He darted out of his door in time to hear the answering fire from the Marlin's two cannons in rapid succession. Aaron was climbing the ladder to topside and he followed on the imp's heels.
The moon was high and waxing half, enough light to see the other ship in shadowy profile as it rounded to align its cannons again.
"Blood sucking parasites!" Captain Rackham snarled from his place at the wheel. Beside him stood a small barn owl, though the smurf had no time to study the bird.
"Aofie!" The captain shouted.
"Aye Cap'n!" The cook answered.
"Get your skin on and show them what-for!" The dwarf barked.
"Aye aye!" The female sped toward her room on the upper deck.
Marco didn't understand what was happening and ran after his paramor. As he got to the door it burst open and out ran Aofie. She was dragging an enormous brown pelt and completely naked.
"Here love, hold these fer me!" The female called. The smurf easily caught the necklace she always wore, but then his mind caught up to her nude state and his brain froze. He watched her toss the pelt overboard and then leap after it. The apron-dress landed in a gentle billow at his feet. As his mind restarted he knelt to pick up the garment.
Splashing and screams echoed across the water before the other ship had time to fire its cannons again. A large, dark, shape pushed the pirate boat into a starboard side list before the vessel was dragged completely under. The panicked pirates started swimming to a lone rowboat and started piling in. Stragglers and debris floated among the waves, the dark 'sea monster' nowhere to be seen.
Marco swallowed hard when he noticed the dark shape rising near their ship. Once the moonlight struck the creature, he realized it was a seal. Then he recognized the pattern on the pinniped's fur. One he loved to trace with a finger. With a laugh the sailor trotted to the railing.
"Good job Aofie!" The captain confirmed the smurf's guess. "Lead the way and we'll pick you up."
The selkie snorted in response, then tilted her head forward to touch her nose to the navigator smurf's. Her whiskers tickled his face for a moment before she dipped below the waves. Her head bobbed up once again, just in sight, and she lead the boat towards land.
"May I?" Marco turned his head to see Con holding his hand out. "I need her amulet."
The sailor smurf handed over the dress and necklace then watched as the fairy rowed a small boat to the shore. In the moonlight he saw a seal lumber onto the beach. Like a silhouette of a butterfly emerging from a cocoon, the seal shape crumpled into the form of a woman. She scooped up the skin and used it to cover herself as the rowboat made it to the shore. Moments later the large shadow shrank, leaving two small blots and one large mass.
"Greetings." Marco jumped and turned to look at the speaker. Next to him stood what looked like a barn owl in miniature. The creature stood primly on four legs awaiting a response.
"Hello." The smurf said cautiously. He spotted an amulet similar to Aofie's on the owl-fey's ankle. Now recognizing the size changing talisman for what it was, he realized that the thing before him was likely at least as large as a full sized owl.
The creature extended a red wing, surprising him with three fingers and a thumb extending like a hand. It's fifth digit seemed to be shaped like a normal bird's to support the wing. Hesitantly the blue skinned sailor shook the thing's 'hand'. It felt like a bird's foot.
The bird seemed to smile, half closing it's eyes. "I am called Orion. You must be Marco Smurf." It tilted its head angling one yellow pupil-less eye towards him in an avian gesture of interest.
"Yes." The smurf started slowly. "Pleased to meet you."
"I very much like your skin. Color like that isn't often seen outside of avian plumage. Tell me, what color is your blood?" Orion alternately lifted a single foot and placed it back. It seemed eager.
It made Marco nervous, especially the question. After an internal debate he decided to answer. "Red."
"How fascinating!" The avian announced, dancing from foot to foot faster. One would think blue or perhaps purple. I would love to know if your kind have books on your species anatomy. It would certainly be a fascinating read. Do you have the standard set of hominid organs or do you have something odd?" It paused. "Oh! A better question may be: What does a smurf eat?"
Decidedly uncomfortable, the smurf tried to deflect the question. "It seems like you're sizing me up for a snack." He tried to sound jovial.
"Oh!" Orion ruffled it's feathers, fluffing up. "My apologies. I meant no offense." The avian shook then smoothed back down.
Before Marco could respond the owl continued. "I enjoy discovering new things. Though my curiosity does get the better of me."
"Orion, ye featherhead, are ye botherin Marco?" Aofie was sitting atop the railing and tying a line off.
"It's no trouble." The smurf hardly cared now that his paramour had returned.
"If ye two could assist?" The selkie asked as Con handed an edge of the sealskin up to her. Together the three hauled the pelt up onto the deck, then helped Con up. The rowboat was then laboriously hauled onto the deck and placed back on it's stand.
"I see you have met our night watchman and navigator." The one-winged fairy said amicably. "Careful, or Orion will have you answering questions until dawn." He chuckled. The avian ruffled it's feathers again.
"Aye, but he makes a fine navigator." The female smoothed the bird's feathers with a petting motion from head to back. Orion's eyes half closed at the treatment. Three other fey approached, faces Marco had only glimpsed occasionally as the crew exchanged duties during the night and day.
A large, wingless, goblin waved. He had yellow-gold skin with horn like protrusions at his elbows, knees, and shoulders. The creature was dressed in a vest and thigh-length pants. His thick tail swished casually behind him.
The grey skinned elf in the middle looked at the group with interest. She was attractive as all elves were, dressed in a long silken tunic over black tights. She crossed her arms under her ample bosom which made the various bracelets she wore clink and jangle.
The last one Marco focused on was a Pixie, the single dragonfly-like wings folded neatly like a cape down his back instead of the dual-lobed wings that faeries had. He wore a simple button down shirt and slacks, both a rust red. He tipped his black bowler hat off his head in greeting.
Con indicated the smurf with a sweep of his hand. "Everyone, this is Marco Smurf. Marco, this is the night crew; Reed, Victorie, and Jack." The fairy indicated the goblin, elf, and pixie as he introduced them.
"A pleasure to meet you." The sailor smurf greeted. He wondered if he'd now met the entire crew. Under the circumstances he'd decided it was best to keep his head down and not indulge his curiosity too much. Being nosey could get him into trouble. But he'd be tied if it wasn't difficult at times.
"Marco? Like the human sailor? That a coincidence?" Victorie arched one elegant brow, her short cropped lavender hair fluttered in the breeze.
"By design, actually." The smurf admitted. "I learned early on in my career that saying one's full name led to trouble." If he counted the name he went by as a smurfling he had four 'real' names. Five if one counted 'Smurf'. The hag who helpfully explained things to him (shortly before attempting to use his blood for some sort of youth potion) said that the names as he said them told of who he was. That could be used to cast spells on him.
The elf grinned in approval. "A fine lesson to know."
The goblin grunted. "We need to finish tending the cannons and set the ship back on course." He nodded to Con, Aofie, and Marco. "You three should get some rest. Dawn comes in about three hours."
The grey skinned female rolled her eyes. "We're fine if we chat for a few minutes."
"Don't make me pull rank." Reed fired back. Orion ruffled his feathers again, then took wing and flew up to the crows nest. The elf started towards the goblin and the two glared at each other. "Go ahead, Princess." The yellow skinned male goaded.
"Again?" Con asked quietly to Jack. The pixie responded with an exasperated nod. By the way the fairy shook his head, the smurf guessed that clashes between Victorie and Reed happened frequently.
A gentle hand gripped Marco's shoulder and he turned his attention to his smurffriend. The selkie nodded her head to the side and he followed her as she walked to where her sealskin lay crumpled on the deck.
"I need a wee bit'o help foldin it when I'm teeny meself." The brown skinned fey explained as she picked up a bit of it.
Marco moved opposite her, figuring it'd be much like folding a large quilt or sail. He picked up a portion of the pelt and looked down at it in surprise.
"It's warm." Shouldn't it have cooled by now?
Aofie giggled. "A'course it's warm. It's as alive as yer bonny wee tail."
The sailor smurf colored. She was enamored with the way his tail twitched when he was particularly excited. The selkie had started trying things to see what affected him more. She loved to surprise him with tickles the most.
He ran his hand along the warm, drying fur. "Can you feel what it feels?" He asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
"Only a certain itch if it were te be harmed." She said quietly. The brown haired female lifted her edge and walked toward him.
"Wouldn't it be safer to shrink it too?" He asked when they met and he handed off his edge. Nearby the goblin and elf had begun a shouting match. Con and Jack were resetting the cannons.
She watched him take up the fold and straighten out the pelt. "I'd have te wrap a charm around it. It's far easier te jump inte it a'fore I'm full sized." She grinned. "Plus, it's tha greatest bed this way."
They folded the skin twice more before Aofie deemed it compact enough to put back into her room. The navigator smurf didn't think twice about helping his love, though he did look around once they placed the pelt down.
It was a simple cabin, slightly larger than his own. The selkie had festooned the walls with shells and other oddities like the bits of coral that framed the circular window. There were several large globes that hung from the ceiling. They glowed with the ethereal touch of magic and lit the room in a soft light.
The click of the door surprised Marco. He turned to see the selkie leaning against the closed door. Something about the way she looked at him had his heart speeding up.
"Ye dinnae have te worry. They'll not talk te that witch." The brown skinned female answered his unvoiced worry. The way she approached him seemed to charge the air with an electricity that filled him with anticipation. He moved to meet her, arms wrapping around her. She nuzzled him, pausing to inhale deeply. She'd told him he smelled sweet.
"Ah, Marco." She murmured against his shoulder. "What am I gonna do with ye?"
"Anything you wish." He answered. "My heart is yours, the rest of me will follow gladly."
"Where did ye learn te be such a charmer?" The selkie sighed. She didn't let him answer, pulling him into a kiss instead. He'd told her before that he was simply telling the truth. His hands slid to her hips, pulling her flush against him. It was the most he ever did, figuring it was sign enough to her that he was getting excited. Normally she'd ease away from his tented pants.
Tonight she pushed against him. It was all he could do to keep himself in control. He wanted to break the kiss and whoop, or jump around. Focus. Focus. He chided himself. The act was as much about pleasing her as satisfying his own desires. Slowly he moved his hands to the small of her back and undid the tie to her dress.
Marco felt her smile just before she pulled away. Her smile widened as she plucked off his hat. His hands reflexively went to his bald scalp, the loss left him feeling as nude as if he were suddenly missing his pants. The selkie giggled and the smurf arched a brow at her.
"Cheeky." He chided, then made a grab for his hat.
She laughed, the delighted sound filling the room, then tossed the tri-corner hat across her bed where it thumped into the wall. Seconds before he reacted she was on the folded pelt and reaching for the white cloth. The sailor realized the game and went after both her and his property with a laugh. Aofie grabbed his hat first, rolling and holding it away from him. He pinned her under him and reached for it, but she surprised him with playful nips to his collarbone and shoulder. It tickled and he exclaimed at every one. The hat became less important and he captured her lips with his to stop the onslaught. She moaned and the sound seemed to dance down his spine. Had his tail been wagging like that this whole time?
The movement wasn't that noticeable, but the selkie giggled and her hand not holding the hat found it's way to the small of his back. Her fingers traced around his tail and he shuddered. Passions inflamed, their kiss turned hungry, demanding.
She pushed at him, the hat forgotten as the pair broke apart to remove the last of their clothes. Marco took a moment to admire the chocolate skinned beauty before him. She seemed to be doing the same, lying relaxed on the warm pelt with her eyes moving up and down his form. Unlike the lithe faeries or pixies, she was built like a human with a curvaceous, soft, figure. With a look of confidence he crawled over her once more, enjoying the feel of her unclothed skin against his own. He pressed his lips to hers again, this time his hand trailing to her breast. Her back arched into his touch and part of his mind catalogued her reactions, learning what pleased her.
They spent uncounted moments like this, mouths dancing and Marco's hands roaming. He skirted close to her groin several times, until finally at one pass she grabbed his hand and put it where she wanted. He obliged her, fingers gently stroking. Content at this change, he played his game of discovery again. She squirmed beneath him as he traced teasingly around her entrance.
A sharp inhalation of breath and she pulled away. "Yer drivin me mad!" The selkie panted. "Take me." It was both an order and an entreaty.
The smurf couldn't help but chuckle. He didn't need to coax her legs open as he positioned himself and hummed in a near moan as he slowly rocked his way inside of her. He enjoyed the feel of slowly being enveloped in heat, and from his lover's prolonged 'ah' she was feeling the same satisfaction. Once he was fully hilted, she wrapped her legs around his back and coaxed him into a vigorous pace.
In a fog of pleasure, the smurf gripped her hips and changed the angle of his penetration. Aofie cried out and he fought through the heady rush of sensation to focus on her. The vague worries about causing her any pain were unfounded, she bucked against him in time to his own thrusts.
"Aofie!" He gasped. The familiar pressure was building and he started distracting himself to last longer. It was easier to do so sooner than just before he climaxed and it was nice to prolong his own enjoyment. He counted his own breaths as he tried to give his lover enough time to build to her own release.
"Yes! Yes!" The selkie cried suddenly, arching her back once again in ecstasy. He moaned as he felt her internal reaction. The new feeling spurred his thrusts faster. From his lover's reaction under him, she was cresting again.
The force of his orgasm crashed into him like a wave, rising up and overtaking him. He called out, moving more erratically as the pleasure affected his control. She followed behind him with another climax of her own, joining him in bliss. The exertion and release took their toll on his muscles and he lowered himself down onto her, panting. Moments passed as their breathing evened out.
"Tonnrothai. It's me clan name. Or as close te it as we get." She looked at him when he raised his head up. It was a sign of trust, he guessed.
"Mariner." She looked confused and he explained. "Smurfs tend to go by their occupation. I was once Submariner. But I found a love of sailing after a few mishaps. Mariner is who I am... and my name as well."
Aofie chuckled. "I like that. Mariner Smurf." She lifted her head and her lips found his. It was more relaxed than the demanding kisses of earlier. Eventually the need to breathe normally forced them apart again.
"How can ye stand it? Bein captive, I mean." The selkie asked worriedly.
The sailor shrugged. "I've been through the game before. Most assume wrongly that because I'm a strange fey in a strange land that I'm fair game to capture. I'll free myself eventually." He rolled to lay beside her and prodded the collar with his free hand. "As soon as I can find a safe way to break this, I'll emancipate myself."
"Yer nae plannin on killin Yeou then?" That seemed to surprise her.
"Oh no. Smurfs value life. It'd be unsmurfy to end even the most vile of villains. Because there's always a chance, however small, that they might see the error of their ways." He surreptitiously reached for his hat. The selkie smiled when he put it back on.
"Tha's a rather sunny way te view things." She brushed her hand down his side as though she wanted to touch his skin.
"Would you have tried to kill her?" He wondered aloud.
She was silent, thinking it over. "If it came te it." He must have let some of the horror he felt cross his features. She frowned and sought out his hand. He grasped it reassuringly. "Ye have te realize. If a selkie is held captive, it's likely their pelt tha's in peril. We're taught from an early age te hide it well if we're on two legs. If it's destroyed... we're stuck as humans, our lives shortened down te their'n."
"M' Da would tell us as pups tales of how there were nae animal seals b'fore humans came along. They were all selkies, every one. We could climb up on land an walk as we pleased. Had villages along tha edges of tha sea. Then humans came. Captured my people in one form, hunted them fer meat'n fur in tha other. There were some clans who decided te stay in their sealskin. After a while, their minds faded away. They became animals in form an spirit. Tha ones who tried te blend in utterly with tha humans didna fair much better. They aged faster without wearin their skin regular, until they died or went mad an walked inte tha sea. It's only by bein free te change between forms tha' we can truly live."
The smurf was silent, thinking. It wasn't very different from his own people's problems. Those that knew of the gold formula wanted them for riches. Those that didn't saw them as curious creatures to place on display, or ingredients for potions, or for their inherent magic.
He still couldn't agree. "I don't think I could truly live if I took the life of another." He watched as a look of pity crossed her features and guessed what it was. "That isn't to say I wouldn't give a sound thrashing to somesmurf who deserved it. I'm not naive. But this world is cruel enough of a place without adding to it."
"I ken." Aofie's voice was muffled as she nuzzled into his side. "Such a pure heart ye have." Marco made himself comfortable and started to drift off to sleep.
"Croí glan." The selkie murmured sleepily. The sailor wondered just what that meant. He'd have to try and remember to ask in the morning.