Author's Notes: Yet again, thank you for all the comments! I am glad the chapter went over so well. For those of you in the US, I hope you had a Happy Thanksgiving! And to all of my followers/readers, I hope you had a Merry Christmas! To EVERYONE—Happy New Year and Happy Valentine's Day! I think that covers all the holidays right?
Seas of Change
Chapter 7: To Torenju
Once Gray was sure Juvia had retreated below deck, he removed his vice grip off the ship wheel. His breath came in large puffs of fog while he assessed the situation and the warmth still lingering on his lips. He had kissed her. He kissed Juvia. She kissed him back.
What the hell was wrong with him?
She was cold, he could see her shivering, and was offering his coat before he could think twice about it. That was all the motion was intended for, and somehow the proximity had pulled him closer until his lips were on hers. Gray had lost the battle to control himself around her. At what point the tension had evolved from animosity to something more primal, he couldn't say, but the fact remained that he had kissed her and he couldn't take things back to how they had been.
Listening to her story had affected him. All the ways he had painted her to believe she was out of reach had crumbled, and what now lay between them was the unuttered truth that they were quite similar. Circumstance may have differed, but they were both alone for much of their life with bruises and scars that no one could see, searching for the same thing—a home.
"Am I to assume that means she's staying?"
Gray stiffened, turning at the sound of the voice. Of all the people to be on deck and sober, it had to be Loke. His boatswain stood to the side in the shadows, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose before he moved into the moonlight with a swift motion and smooth grin. Anyone else would know to keep their mouth shut; Loke would never let him live this down. He knew his way around women far too well.
"Gray, you do realize you can't keep pushing her away now."
"It was nothing."
Loke stood at his side, arms crossed. "Maybe for you, but it won't be for her."
The way he said it, Gray knew Loke didn't believe him. He didn't answer. The orange haired man smiled knowingly, turning slightly to head toward the stairwell.
"I'll keep your secret." Loke answered. "But if I were you I wouldn't wait to make your next move. Someone else may take her before you can."
Her face was still red; Juvia could feel the heat rising from her chest beneath Gray's warm blue coat as the memory flooded her again. He had kissed her. Everything that had happened, and he had kissed her and she had liked it. She wanted more of it. The urge called from places within her she had not been aware existed.
What did that say about her, a woman who had fallen in love with her captor? Could she say she was in love? It wasn't as if Juvia had never been kissed before—there had been Bora, years ago on Crocus—but none of the kisses she knew had felt as that one had. She couldn't deny that he was attractive in a way that felt sinful, and despite herself she was beginning to understand and sympathize with the way he had chosen to live his life. The loneliness that she fought to keep at bay rang out in his story, and she could hurt along with his hurts.
His lips were delicious too.
Juvia shook her head, eyes closed as she knelt upon the bedding in the kitchen floor. It had been only moments before she had despised him with every ounce of her being, and yet now the heat that rose under her skin was not for rage but an angry lust. Lust for more of him and the comfort of his touch, the soft hardness of his kiss; her mind was swimming with images of what may have happened had he not had the control he did. She knew she had none. The moment he had touched her, she had melted into him as if it had truly been what she had wanted all along.
The conflicting emotions boiled over with an intensity that made her woozy.
All of the men on this ship were just like her—orphans. This was their home and the only thing that they knew. Gray watched his special people die and then took in other who had the same experience. The men fought for him because he gave them a place to belong and each person had become a brother; the Frozen Banshee was more than just a ship to them, it was where they took their meals, grew together and made their living, a floating nation of their own making. When they were cast aside, this was the open arms that called them to comfort and companionship. They were only fighting to protect what they had built together.
It was to them what Juvia had wanted her entire life; a family.
The ship and its crew were slow to rise that morning; a fog held over as they travelled from the cool sea into warmer waters, the mixture causing steam to rise from the waves and envelope the deck with its mist. Juvia had awaken far earlier than the rest, stepping over drunken sailors and the discarded remains of their victory celebration to reach the dew covered, battle damaged banister. For all of the fire fight from the previous night, she was surprised the ship was still in working order; there would be a lot of clean up to be done and the ship was worse for wear, but it was safe to sail.
She was sure they would have to port soon, if for no other reason than repairs.
Her night had been restless, mind jumping between need for rest, the stories of the crew she had misunderstood and the kiss that had broken her resolve and left her emotions up for debate. Despite the early morning viewing the sunrise over the ocean, Juvia was unable to decipher Gray's intentions with the motion. He had sent her away as quickly as it had occurred without so much as a look back.
She pulled the coat tighter about her, fingers running along the ribbing and gold buttons that decorated the sleeves and chest. He had not requested his jacket back, and Juvia found she had no desire to take it off. She slept wrapped in its folds and now stood out on the deck with it draped about her shoulders. Was it hers now?
"It seems you've finally found a proper coat."
The voice beside her was smooth and easily recognizable; Loke turned to lean against the railing, unreadable smile upon his face. Juvia felt her cheeks turning pink as if she had be caught doing something she shouldn't have been; what did he make of it? Did he realize the jacket belonged to Gray? What would he think that meant?
He leaned toward her. "You've become his woman then?"
She jumped at the accusation, feeling her face redden. "N-no! Juvia… Juvia is…she has…"
"Come to an understanding?" he suggested, eyebrow lifting.
Juvia pressed her lips together, watching the way Loke's eyes analyzed her. It was as if he were reading her every motion to betray whatever she would say, like he knew that deep down she had a secret that even she wasn't aware she was keeping. "Juvia… believes so."
"So I should stop pursuing you then?"
"Loke should have never been pursuing Juvia to begin with!"
He shrugged his shoulders. "You're a beautiful woman and you had no attachments; what did I have to lose?"
"Who said Juvia was available?" the redness on her cheeks was darkening the further into this spiraling conversation she fell.
"So you've been his since the beginning?"
"Juvia—" she stopped, realizing she had fallen into his trap.
It mattered not what she said now, everything would point back to the butterflies in her stomach and the way her body turned to fire anytime Gray was near. Loke was too sharp to miss that. Juvia turned her attention back to the ocean, counting the time between each wave that lapped upon the ships hull. Had she always felt this way about Gray, as Loke said?
Maybe she had—if she were honest with herself, a lot of her anger toward him had been because he was such a beautiful man in such an ugly profession and she could not paint him as both gorgeous and dangerous. How dare he appear as the man of her dreams and yet not act as kind as the one she always dreamed of?
"You're thinking about him."
"Juvia is not!"
"It's okay." Loke answered slowly, adjusting his glasses. "I'll keep your secret. He is going to be difficult to reign in completely, so I'll help you out instead."
The offer captured her attention. "You will help Juvia?"
Loke lifted an arm, placing it about her shoulders and gently leading her across the deck. "Of course—you're going to need it."
His crew worked tirelessly throughout the day, but the ship was still a mess. Natsu's initial reports on the damage had been mediocre; the further they dug, the more damage they found and the more expensive and prolonged their time in Torenju became. They patched what they could and transported the goods from the damaged rooms to safer, drier areas. Half the men moved their sleeping mats from the bunkered ship rooms to the halls to escape the chill from the split boards and holes, most of the ships weapon supply had been destroyed and Gray stood with his captains log assessing the damage caused by the kiss.
It was the last thing he needed to be thinking about but Juvia continued to invade his thoughts amiss the disaster that was the Frozen Banshee. There was an awkwardness he was unsure he wanted to bridge. He had been lucky up until this point to have not seen her; at some point Natsu would lead him to the only corner of the ship she could be in after they'd combed each board, wall and door. He wouldn't be able to avoid her forever.
"Hey, ice dick, look."
Gray hit Natsu behind the head, ignoring his protests before he looked at what his first mate was pointing out. The hull of his ship had caved in over the cannon hall, the hole wider than he and Natsu could spread their arms out standing side by side. Ocean water lapped inside as they sailed forward, leaking to the lower floors and dragging out weapons, canons and goods.
To hell with the log; he would be lucky if he didn't have to buy a whole damn ship.
"Where's Gajeel?"
"Haven't seen him since last night, but he's gotta be somewhere."
"Some damn Master Gunner. He should have been in here and had this patched and the gunpowder stored somewhere dry before got here."
Natsu shrugged as if this was no concern of his. "You told us to celebrate. He's probably passed out in the latrine."
"Go get him."
"You kidding? This stuff's long gone, there's nothing to save."
The ship rocked, both seamen fighting for balance against the swell. Water splashed into the room, splashing over Gray's boots. His first mate shifted to lean on a support ballast, face green and unamused by the shifting of the sea. Gray kicked one of the ruined gunpowder buckets in Natsu's direction. The action was rehearsed and familiar; sometimes he wondered why Natsu bothered staying on the ship at all when he was prone to seasickness.
"Don't you throw up all over my ship."
"You mean what's left of it?" Loke rounded the stairwell and doorway, hovering just beyond the sounds of Natsu's illness, eyes viewing the hole in the side of the ship. "That doesn't look good, Captain."
Gray huffed a bit, turning from the hole toward his boatswain. "It'll take more than a few navy canon balls to take down the Frozen Banshee."
"We're three days out from Torenju unless we get a favorable wind." Loke offered.
"Better be the clearest three days at sea we've ever had. It'll just take a storm to take us down with damage like this." Natsu grumbled, tossing his seasick bucket out the hole and stumbling toward the stairwell.
Gray paused, glancing once more over the destroyed gunning level of his ship. It had not been that long ago they upgraded the weaponry and it all sat in water soaked ruins, floor boards creaking under the weight of steel and iron. The wood was soggy and squished with his footsteps. They would be lucky if the floor did not cave before they made it to shore.
"Can you get us there in two?" he asked, turning toward the men.
"Of course, if you give permission for the emergency sails Ultear enchanted for you."
"Take them."
Natsu continued up the stairwell, mumbling that he was taking a break for a bit; Gray didn't bother telling him they still had another wing of the ship to inspect, the damage was already beyond numbers he cared to tally. The main concern had turned from the cost of repairing his ship to how he would get his crew to Torenju before the cannons busted through the floor. He didn't plan on adding his crew to the list of sunken sailors who joined the sea queens undead court.
"Two days Loke." Gray repeated.
"What are you going to do with Juvia?" he asked.
Gray's eyes narrowed slightly. "What do you mean?"
"The kitchen is beneath the gunner floor. If the cannons fall, they are going to fall on her."
Silence fell between the two men, Loke's expression knowing and frustrating, Gray's cold and firm. He knew well enough that the kitchens had a poor chance of remaining safe through the remainder of the trip, and his crew had a hard enough time finding places to rest with the damage to his ship. The space he had confined her in was the only space she had. He knew the card Loke was trying to play, and Gray was not happy with it.
"Move her out of the kitchen and tell her to find somewhere to stay with the men. It doesn't matter to me where."
His answer bought him a shake of Loke's head. "Of course."
"If you don't like it, give her your quarters."
"I may just share them with her."
