The Gift
Pairing: Maeve/Sinbad
Rating: M (language, sex, violence)
Setting: Just after Season 1
All standard disclaimers apply
The storm wanes with the night, and an hour after dawn Sinbad feels the sea has calmed enough to return to shore with the longboat. He hasn't slept and neither have his men, all hands working diligently to monitor and maintain the ship, keeping her afloat during the night. Fury buoys him, stalling any hint of weariness. This storm feels natural, not conjured, despite its timing, and he doubts it was sent purposely to harm them. The attack on Maeve is another story. No one harms a member of his crew. No one. He's about to show the innkeeper the consequences of that very foolish action.
All night long as they battled the storm Sinbad stayed alert for any sign from Breakwater or Maeve herself, but none came. He waits for news, unable to check on her himself. What exactly Keely did to cure Maeve last night he doesn't know, or how long it will take her to recover. He does his best to remain patient, to keep his mind focused on his work. His sorceress is in the safest place she can possibly be, and though it feels unnatural not to have her at his side he takes peace from the knowledge that, for now, she's protected. The magical shields that safeguard Breakwater shelter her from scrying, and Keely and Antoine won't let her come to harm.
Sinbad himself feels nearly recovered from his taste of poison and desperate trip north last night. His bracelet probably saved Maeve's life and the life of their child, so he can't regret it, but he never wants to travel like that again. He also has much more respect for Maeve's magic, her ability to wield the power stored in that stone. It takes far more skill than he realized to get them to and from Breakwater safely. He feels slightly queasy and his throat still hurts from the poison, but nothing like it did last night. He hopes Keely was able to dull Maeve's pain similarly.
"What's the plan, little brother?" Doubar asks as they splash into the surf, hauling the longboat to shore. He hasn't asked about Maeve's health or her whereabouts, which is fine with Sinbad. He doesn't know how to explain, what to say. Firouz and Rongar both caught glimpses of Keely last night, so Maeve's going to have to deal with questions when she returns. Rongar usually knows better than to pry, but Firouz does not. Until Maeve says otherwise, Sinbad isn't going to offer any explanations. These are her people, and while he doesn't agree that they need to be kept so secret from the rest of the crew, it's not his choice to make. It's hers. As her captain he has the right to ask many things of her, but not this.
"The plan is simple. Find the man. Demand answers." Sinbad draws his saber and stalks swiftly toward the town. Nobody touches a member of his crew. Especially Maeve. Particularly while she's with child. That innkeeper is going to explain his actions. He's going to apologize. And he's going to die. It's as simple as that.
"Ah, maybe you should let me ask the questions," Firouz says hesitantly as they climb the gentle hill through scrub pine.
Sinbad glares at his best friend. "I'm not in the mood for tact." He's just spent a night without his sorceress, worried sick for her despite knowing she's in good hands. In his mind's eye he can still see her poor body writhing, convulsing on the bottom of the longboat, her beautiful lips blistered and wet with blood. The man responsible for that will die.
"It's just that...well, you want answers. Right?" Firouz hustles, jogging to keep up with Sinbad's forceful strides. Rongar's long legs keep him steady on Sinbad's other side; Doubar puffs behind them. "The point of a sword may not be the best way to get them."
"I think it's an excellent way." Normally Sinbad abhors killing. He's not a violent man, though he leads a rough life. But anyone who touches Maeve dies. That's all.
When they reached the village yesterday they were greeted by the scents of cooking fires, the sights and sounds of busy working people. Now, as he pauses at the edge of the main street to let Doubar catch up, Sinbad instantly feels the difference. Eerie quiet pervades the town. He frowns, and when Doubar pants a question he raises a hand for silence. Something's wrong.
"Where is everyone?" Firouz whispers.
Sinbad glances at Rongar, who has better hearing than the rest of them. The Moor shakes his head.
"Careful. The last thing we need is to walk into a trap." Sinbad lets instinct guide his feet. He turns not for the door of the inn but the back of it, behind the ragged row of buildings. He moves on cautious, silent feet, his men at his back. He sees nothing unusual at first—a small outbuilding with the sour, warm smell of a working brewery, a chopping block and stacks of neatly-split wood, chickens pecking at the dirt. He frowns. The little hairs on the back of his neck tell him there's danger here, though he can't yet see it. He steps carefully forward.
The back door of the inn sits open. The innkeeper lies sprawled in the doorway, his skin grey and waxen. Open eyes stare blankly at nothing. Sinbad takes a silent breath. He doesn't need Firouz to tell him the man's dead.
Firouz darts forward when he sees the body in the doorway. Sinbad grabs the scruff of his shirt and holds him back. "Don't."
"What if he's still alive?"
"He's not." Sinbad's jaw clenches hard. He's not sure what to feel. He has no sympathy for the dead man, but he wanted answers and now he'll never get them.
"What got him?" Doubar asks quietly. "He seemed like a nice enough guy."
"Until he poisoned a member of my crew."
"Well, there's that."
Sinbad releases his hold on Firouz. The inventor looks at him over his shoulder. "We can't just leave him there."
"Why not?"
"What if he has a family? What if they found him like that?"
Sinbad's still reeling from nearly losing his own family, and he finds it very difficult to care. But he nods at Firouz. "Go ahead, then. See if you can find out what killed him, at least."
Firouz starts forward once more.
"Stop!"
The female voice sounds before the figure appears. Sinbad isn't sure whether he's surprised or not when Keely emerges from out of thin air, the faintest hint of green mist dissolving around her. She grabs Firouz by the arm and hauls him back.
"That thing's got a curse on it. You touch it, you die."
Firouz rubs his arm where she grabbed him. Sinbad opens his mouth to ask how she knows, but a figure garbed exquisitely in dark yellow silk steps into the doorway.
"Who's this little witch, come to spoil my fun?" Rumina pauses, unable to move forward with the bulky corpse of the innkeeper lying in the way.
Rumina's a small woman, though the crackling, humming aura of her evil magic surrounds her, making her seem bigger than she actually is. Keely's physically even smaller, but she squares her sharp little self with the witch, folding her arms across her chest. She's dressed in short men's breeches, as seems to be her habit, unarmed and defiant as she stands before the beautiful, silken witch. "You don't remember me," she says, indignant.
"She didn't remember Maeve, either," Sinbad says, edging up on Keely's side, shouldering Firouz gently behind him. Between two angry magicians is no place for a scientist.
Keely's lip curls with disdain. "That's just plain rude. Or a lie. How anyone could forget Maeve, I don't know."
Sinbad assumes it has something to do with the passage of time. Maeve was a child when Rumina cursed Dermott, twelve or thirteen at the most. She's not the gawky child Dermott showed him in his vision anymore.
"Was it you, then?" Keely demands. "Or your lackey? How many sailors did you mean to kill?"
"Oh, he did it. Happily, I might add. Money talks." The witch toes the corpse and sniffs with scorn as she eyes Keely up and down.
Sinbad tightens his grip on his saber. He doesn't feel sorry for the dead man anymore. Not if he was willing to poison innocent strangers for coin. "If you meant to kill us all, you miscalculated."
"Miscalculated? Me?" Rumina sounds insulted. "That was a warning, sailor. Nothing more." She glances around. "Where is your barbarian peasant today?"
"Safe. And alive." Sinbad hopes, at least. He has no idea why Keely showed up, especially without Maeve, and all he can do is pray that she doesn't bring bad news.
"Come out here and talk like an honest person," Doubar demands.
Rumina glances at the corpse at her feet. "Can't, I'm afraid. The door's a bit blocked." She smiles. It's the smile of a snake. "What honest men skulk around the back of inns, anyway?"
"I knew better than to walk through the front door," Sinbad growls.
"Pity you didn't know that yesterday." The witch trains her pale eyes on him. She's a beautiful woman, Sinbad has to admit. Nearly black hair, glossy and rich, delicate features that any high-born princess would envy. She's dressed in fine yellow silk, her face heavily made-up, the picture of wealth and power. Next to her Keely's small and grubby, barefoot as a beggar. He has no doubt they're both aware of this, and he also has no doubt that Keely doesn't give a shit. "Let me be very clear this time, Sinbad. It seems that our last chat didn't have enough of an impact. I hope I have your attention now."
He's really not interested in hearing whatever she has to say, but he stands his ground. Attacking her won't get him anywhere, though he desperately wants to. He'd be dead before he reached her.
"I've warned you about that peasant witch before. She's in my way. Things in my way have a habit of disappearing." She snaps her fingers and the corpse at her feet vanishes. Her blood-red nails gleam in the morning sunlight as she steps through the doorway.
"You didn't succeed. I told you, she's alive."
Rumina smiles, venom-sweet. "And I told you, that was just a warning."
"Aconite is not a warning!" Firouz fumes from behind Sinbad's right shoulder. "It's a death sentence, and a torturous one. How could you—even you?"
The witch glances at him. Her quick, keen gaze evaluates and dismisses him in less than a heartbeat before she turns back to Sinbad. "You did this to her. Not me. I warned you. Anything that happens to her now is on your shoulders."
And the terrible thing is that she's right. She did warn him. She wants him, and she's not used to being denied. Guilt gathers in his gut, heavy and dense, worsening the faint queasiness he's felt since leaving Maeve's side.
"You touch her again, you die." He points his saber at Rumina. Words don't seem to work so well with her, but maybe a blade will.
She laughs. "But I didn't touch her at all." Her frosty eyes narrow. "That's the fun part. You see, sailor, until you listen to me, until you get rid of her, you won't be able to rest. Everyone you meet will be suspect—like him." She nods at the inn. "I can pay or curse anyone to do my bidding. I can become anyone, just as I became you." Her pretty mouth curves, sharp and cruel as a blade. "I gave your soul to Scratch until you realize you belong to me. I am your only way out of his clutches, and I won't be denied!"
"Is that what this is about?" Doubar grunts. "You're wasting your time preying on Maeve. She refused to help Sinbad."
"Oh, I know she did. My sailor's a young, virile man. She'd be with child already, had she agreed. But he's sweet on her—always has been. And that just won't do." She steps forward. Sinbad braces his feet and forces himself not to step back. She wants him. She won't hurt him unless he attacks first.
Probably.
"I admit, the girl has a...primitive sort of charm. If you like savages." She glances meaningfully at Keely. Maeve's sister is older than Rumina and a mother of two besides, but she makes a horrible face and sticks her tongue out at the witch.
Rumina wrinkles her dainty, aristocratic nose. "As I said." She clears her throat. "But you're mine, Sinbad. You always have been. You always will be." He can hear the threat implicit in her tone.
"Please." Keely rolls her eyes. "You're trying to scare a man who doesn't scare."
"Well said!" Doubar agrees heartily.
"And what you say about Sinbad applies just as easily to you." Keely grins, and a cold gleam Sinbad's never seen before enters her green eyes. Antoine told him the girls can be vindictive, but he hasn't seen it for himself until now. "You're wasting your time worrying about Maeve when she already refused to help Sinbad. Really, she's the least of your worries. All of us—all the women in the world—are potentially your enemies. You realize that, right? You can't watch him all the time. For all you know he could have multiple babies brewing already, in every port between here and Baghdad. Hell, I could be carrying one." She smiles, as coldly venomous as her rival. "Go on. Test me. I dare you."
Sinbad holds his breath. This is a very dangerous game she's playing. There must be safer ways to keep Rumina's attention off Maeve, ones that don't put Keely's unborn child at risk. He thinks of Antoine, how much that man adores his daughters, and what it will do to him if Keely or her baby come to harm.
"Don't," he hisses, saber in one hand, thrusting the other out to the side, to stop Keely getting any closer to Rumina.
Rumina's eyes light with cold fury. Sinbad's stomach drops. Without meaning to, he just all but confirmed Keely's lie.
Rongar pushes in front of Keely, placing his bulky form between the two women, but Keely shoulders her way forward again. "It's fine," she says, speaking to Rongar but staring at Rumina, her eyes nearly glowing green. "I told her to."
She dared Rumina, actually, and Rumina is angry and envious enough to rise to the bait. Rongar looks to his captain, but Sinbad doesn't know what to tell him, what to do. Rumina is a bully and bullies at heart are insecure. Keely aimed for and hit that insecurity, like punching a bruise, but in doing so she may have woken a tiger. Rumina's chin lowers, her eyes never leaving the woman before her.
"Go ahead," Keely goads. "Try me. You already know what you'll find."
Rumina inhales slowly. She pauses for just a moment, then begins to recite something in a language Sinbad doesn't understand. It raises the tiny hairs on the back of his neck and arms, warning him to beware. He can feel the sparks of magic gather, and he watches as Rumina's dark blue magic reaches for Keely. He wants to stop it—nothing Rumina does can be good, and this is Maeve's adopted sister, possibly the person she loves most in the world besides Dermott. She will never forgive him if Keely comes to harm. But Keely stands her ground, small but defiantly unafraid, and if she's not scared he doesn't quite dare interrupt.
The magic wraps around Keely like a dark blue mist. Whatever response it gives Rumina is lost on the rest of them, but the witch roars with bestial, impotent fury.
"Told you." Keely brushes the dark magic away as easily as if it were a dusting of snow. "Maeve is too young for Sinbad, and even if she wasn't, she doesn't want kids. But sure, you keep worrying about her. It makes my job much easier."
Rumina lunges.
Sinbad and Rongar both move at the same time to step between the two women. He raises his saber, though what a blade will do against a magical attack he doesn't know.
Rumina's pulsing blue lightning bolt bursts as it hits a sudden wall of green. Sinbad ducks instinctively but even the shower of sparks from the collision doesn't hit him.
Keely smiles grimly. "You really have forgotten. I'm not a warrior. I can't attack you—that's Maeve's thing. But I can damn well keep you from hurting anyone."
Sinbad stands cautiously, Rongar beside him.
Rumina looks furious, but there's nothing she can do. She smooths her glossy hair back and glares at them all. "This isn't the end. You can't get rid of me that easily." Her icy stare lingers on Keely, then Sinbad. "He's mine. The end will be the same no matter what you do." Her hands rise in front of her in a complicated gesture and she disappears.
Behind Sinbad, Doubar sighs with relief.
"Everyone okay?" Sinbad is cautious, and slow to sheath his sword. He can't sense the ominous, dangerous presence lurking in the air anymore, which tells him Rumina is truly gone. But Antoine was right—she's been watching them, just as they feared. He exhales a long breath, feeling a strange feathery weakness in his knees. Is that fear? He doesn't know that he's ever truly been afraid of Rumina before, but somehow having confirmation that she's been spying on him, watching him when he thinks he's alone…. An icy blade of anxiety touches the back of his neck. Not for himself. For Maeve. For the spark of life she bears. At least Rumina seems convinced that Maeve isn't going to be his champion against Scratch. He's thankful for that small mercy.
"I'm surprised she just…left," Firouz says, frowning. "I expected something more."
"She's met my magic before, though she says she doesn't remember." Keely rolls her eyes with disgust. "I can't attack her, but I can block just about anything she tries. She may have decided it wasn't worth it today."
"You were wonderful." Doubar beams at her. "And you have excellent timing. But...who are you?"
Keely glances sideways at Sinbad, who has no idea what to say. She's Maeve's family, Maeve's secret. It's not his place to divulge what he knows.
After a beat, when it's clear Sinbad isn't going to answer, Keely does. "I'm just a librarian, so don't get too excited." She pushes her green forelock out of her eyes. "And I come with...not the greatest news."
Sinbad's stomach drops into his boots and the strange feathery feeling in his knees threatens to bring him down. "Maeve?"
"On your ship." Keely waves dismissively in the direction of the beach. "She's fine, and she'll be fully recovered in a day or two. I wanted to keep her longer, but she wouldn't let me."
Relief floods him. She's okay. She's going to be fine. She's safe on his ship, exactly where she belongs. He scowls at her friend. "Don't scare me like that."
She turns to him, irritated. "I came to warn you, captain. A courtesy. She'll be fine, but she's pissed."
Doubar groans. "When is she ever not?" He lowers himself to sit heavily on the chopping block.
Sinbad doesn't care how angry she is. He's just grateful she's strong enough to lose her temper.
"Who's she angry at? The innkeeper?" Firouz looks around the silent clearing. "Unfortunately, it seems she won't get the opportunity to confront him."
"Probably she is." Keely shrugs. "Right now she's mad at basically the world. Mostly me and Sinbad." She makes a face. "Me more than Sinbad."
Firouz frowns. "Didn't you just save her life?"
"Oh, aye. But then I moved her without her permission, and Sinbad let me. She really doesn't like that."
Yeah, he was afraid of that, but he was more concerned last night with her health. Keely said she needed a good night's sleep, which no one on a ship in a storm ever gets. He doesn't regret sending her to Breakwater, where Keely could keep an eye on her. It was just one night. Now she's back on the Nomad, where she belongs. He yearns to be there, too.
"Will someone please explain to me what's going on?" Doubar demands irritably. "Who is this? Why is she here?" His blue-gray eyes fix on Keely. "Are you really pregnant?"
She snorts. "Word to the wise—women really don't like being asked that. And would Rumina have been so pissed off if I wasn't? Use your head."
Doubar was on his way to liking Keely, but Sinbad watches as his brother's defenses come up. He doesn't like being told to think before he speaks. "No wonder you know Maeve," he grumbles. "You have the same mouth."
"You say that like it's a bad thing." Keely turns to Sinbad. "I came to warn you about the angry redhead waiting for you. That's all. And it's a good thing I did. You nearly lost your skeptic." She pats Firouz on the shoulder.
"And I appreciate the timely warning about the, uh, body." Firouz dips his head to her. "But I must admit I don't strictly follow the philosophy of classical Skepticism. I find it too restrictive."
"I find most philosophies too restrictive."
"But...you said you're a scholar?" Firouz looks at her doubtfully. "From Brí Leith, perhaps?"
Green eyes blaze with sudden, unexpected fire. "What do you know about Brí Leith?" she demands, rounding on him.
Firouz backs away three quick paces, hands up, empty palms facing her. "Nothing! Nothing. Only that it burned."
"Then you just answered your own question, didn't you?"
This isn't going well, but Sinbad doesn't know what else he expected. Keely's pricklier than Maeve even on a good day, which this is not. She likely spent the night awake, watching over Maeve, and just tussled with Rumina. She's also pregnant, which he's been warned fouls her mood. Now she's upset both Doubar and Firouz, and Rongar's watching her warily, as if he's afraid she might come after him next.
She doesn't. She comes after Sinbad instead. "Look, we've got to have a serious talk about Maeve's safety. This can't continue. Rumina wasn't joking. How can you trust anyone you meet? That the food you buy is safe? The wine you drink?"
He knows. He knows. But he hasn't had time to think through Rumina's threats or decide what to do about them, and he doesn't want to have this discussion right now. "Was her wine poisoned, too? Is that why she didn't drink it?"
Keely's unnatural green eyes narrow at him. Oh, he knows that look. Keely may be small and plain, not tall and regally beautiful, but that look is all Maeve. He's seen it many times, and it doesn't bode well. "I didn't ask, and that's not the point. Stop trying to change the subject. You're not good at misdirection." She folds her arms over her chest and faces him head-on, as she faced Rumina, just as adamant and just as fearless. "Rumina is not going to stop. She warned you. She's not good at misdirection, either, and she doesn't need to be. She told you very clearly that Maeve is not safe with you."
Guilt wells inside him—guilt and a host of other emotions, too overwhelming and too frightening to name. This is his fault—all of it. Since learning the truth of the brand he bears and what he must do to erase it, his sole preoccupation has been with the woman who agreed to champion him, to save him from Scratch's clutches. His driving ambition is to keep her safe—from Scratch, from Rumina, from Doubar, even from himself. And yet, he feels like every choice he makes, every step he takes, only worsens her situation. Her relationship with Doubar is all but destroyed. Rumina has threatened her life multiple times. This last was just a warning, the evil sorceress said, but Sinbad is pretty sure Maeve would have died without Keely. Even Firouz didn't seem to hold much hope last night.
"I know what she means to you. Hell, I probably know better than you do. Men aren't great with emotions." Keely leans her weight on one hip, as she does when holding a baby.
"She means everything," he says tightly. Denying it anymore is pointless. Rumina knows, which means Scratch probably does, too. He can deal with that, as long as they keep believing Maeve isn't with child.
Doubar makes a low, annoyed sound. Firouz looks shocked. Rongar does not.
"If that's true, then can you tell me you have a plan for protecting her? Something better than before?" Keely frowns at him. "That girl attracts trouble like...like I don't even know what. Like bees to pollen, flies to rot. If you don't have a plan, she needs to come back to Breakwater until after Samhain."
Oh, no. No. His blood turns to ice in his veins, sharp and chilling, knives of cold fire. Last night was one thing. She needed rest, and she wasn't going to get it on the sea in the middle of a storm. But he can't be without her for moons—he can't. She's part of him. How is he supposed to function if he's not whole, if she's not with him?
"No." His voice sounds strange in his ears, leaden and flat. "No."
"Think, little brother," Doubar says. "Maybe it's for the best. She's a hindrance to you right now anyway, while you're working on the protocol." He glances at Keely. "Though maybe not as much of a hindrance as I thought."
Sinbad clenches his jaw as tight as he can to keep from shouting at his brother. Keely's child is not his, and he feels vastly uncomfortable that anyone thinks it might be. This is Maeve's sister, and he feels absolutely no desire for her. But she fostered the lie deliberately to help keep Maeve safe, and he can't jeopardize that safety with the truth no matter how much he wants to.
But he can't let Maeve go, either. He can't.
"You tried to talk to her last night, didn't you?" he says, staring at Keely. "She wouldn't agree to stay up north. That's why you came to me."
"This morning, not last night. But yes." She's unrepentant. "You're her captain. She won't listen to me, but she'll listen to you."
Will she? He's honestly doubtful. And even if she did, what would it do to her if he forced her to leave? What would it do to them both? "She doesn't want to leave the Nomad. She's already said so plenty of times." His voice still sounds strange. He clears his throat—maybe it's a side effect of the poison? The morning isn't cold, but he feels like he's turned to ice. "If she's furious about going away for a night, what do you think she'll do if I send her away for half a year?"
"I don't know...live, maybe?" Keely's sarcasm bites deep, but its bitter sting can't compare with the surreal thought of living without her. He'd die. Not literally—not physically. His heart would still beat, lungs would still breathe. But something essential inside him would die. He can't do it. Living a lie with her, pretending she's his crewmember and nothing more, feels like torture but at least he can see her. Hear her voice. He can hold her tight in the darkest hours of the night. He can't give that up.
"Maeve won't listen to me if I order her," he says, taking a different tack. He rubs his hands together, trying to warm the strange chill that's come over him. Firouz frowns as he watches. "I may be captain, but she doesn't obey when she doesn't want to."
"That's true enough," Doubar mutters. Sinbad wants to snap at him, but he controls himself. Getting Doubar angry at him won't help the situation.
"If you want Maeve to come north with you, you need to talk to her. Not me." Sinbad feels guilty for deflecting responsibility, but he also fully believes what he says. Keely and Antoine have both previously suggested Maeve would be safer at Breakwater, and she's refused to go. She wants to stay with him, with their family on the Nomad. Warmth blooms in him, momentarily banishing the ice in his belly. She loves him, wants him, as much as he loves her.
"I told you, she's furious!" Keely snaps. "She won't talk to me. This is all your goddamn fault, so you need to fix it!"
He shakes his head firmly. He may not be the most knowledgeable guy when it comes to women, but he knows Maeve and he knows better than to stick his nose in the middle of this fight. "I can't fix this. I'm sorry." He would if he could. Maeve has already lost Dermott and Doubar. The last thing she needs is a rift with her sister, too. But if he tries to force her away, he's terrified that he'll lose her. If she chooses to go to Breakwater, as Keely suggests, he won't fight her. Keely's right—it would be safer. And easier. But he won't force her. As her captain he probably should, but as her céile he just can't. That betrayal would be unforgivable in Maeve's eyes, and he can't lose her like that.
Keely's green eyes gleam dangerously. "Are you being deliberately dense, or are you really as stupid as you sound? You can't protect her! We can!"
"Who's we?" Firouz asks. Nobody listens.
"I can protect her!" Sinbad's hands curl into fists at his sides. He struggles not to lose his temper. He's the captain, and he's sick of everyone arguing with him at every turn. Maeve gets away with it because she's Maeve. Doubar, Keely, Rumina, and everyone else need to check themselves.
"You're doing a piss-poor job of it!" Keely hollers back.
Sinbad forces himself to take a slow, deep breath. Then another. Keely and Maeve fight, he reminds himself. He's heard them go at each other like screeching banshees with his own ears. They'll get over it eventually; they always do. His job is to keep out of it, and not to rise to Keely's bait. All she wants is Maeve's safety, which is his foremost worry, too. They just disagree about how best to ensure it.
"Your argument is with Maeve," he says, gratified when his tone remains even, "not with me. I'm telling you the same thing I've told Doubar—I will not force her to do anything. I didn't force her to help me with the Protocol, and I won't force her to leave, either. Or to stay." He wants her to stay. He needs her to stay. But he won't force her. That's not who he is, and she won't stand for it, besides.
"Man. Up," Keely growls. "You're the reason she's in danger!"
He knows. Maeve has always been Rumina's enemy, but he's made her a bigger target. "Being a man," he says slowly, "a real man, isn't about rushing in to fix every problem. It's about knowing when you're needed. And when to butt out." Antoine taught him that. He suspects Dim-Dim tried, too, but he wasn't yet ready to hear it.
"Fuck your goddamn philosophy! I refuse to lose my sister to Rumina just because you want your bed warmed at night!"
If Doubar or Firouz said that to him, he'd punch them. As it is, he struggles to keep his arms at his sides. He's not known for losing his temper, and he refuses to let Keely goad him into it. She wants to fight, but he's not willing to oblige her. "Maeve has her own bed, her own cabin, which you know perfectly well. Yelling at me won't change her mind about leaving."
"Well, yelling at her does nothing!"
"Then you need to try a different approach."
His refusal to engage, to scream and roar and let her vent her frustration, makes Keely even angrier. But he's not a Celt, nor does he have the sort of temperament that will be soothed by a shouting match. If he let Doubar and Keely at each other they might just come out the other side feeling better, but right now they seem to be in general agreement so that won't work. Besides, Keely goes further than Maeve ever would with her vicious digs. He doesn't quite trust that Doubar wouldn't snap and squash her angry little self like a bug. Maeve wouldn't like that.
"I need to try a different approach?" Keely stares at him, beyond insulted. "I've known that girl since she was eight years old, and I'm the one who needs to try a different approach?"
Sinbad's suddenly very glad that Maeve's the warrior, Keely the healer. If this one could throw fireballs, he'd be ashes right now.
"Fine. You know what? Fine. Don't listen. But don't come running north next time you need someone to save your sorry asses." She fumbles with the neckline of her shirt, withdrawing an opal on a fine gold chain. It lights green with her magic, and she disappears.
Doubar whistles low. "Had to have the last word. Of course she knows Maeve."
"That," Sinbad says, full of misgiving, "is Maeve's adopted sister."
Doubar snorts. "Figures." He climbs slowly to his feet. "No offense to you, little brother. Your choices right now are limited, I know. But I prefer Talia."
Sinbad rubs his eyes. Samhain can't come soon enough. This is getting ridiculously out of hand.
"Is...ah, is she really with child?" Firouz asks hesitantly.
Rongar shoves him and shakes his head firmly, then cups his hand to his ear as if listening.
"Rongar's right," Sinbad says as they slowly start back toward the beach. "The less said, the better." If he could knight Rongar, he'd do it in a heartbeat.
A/N: A couple of people have asked about Doubar. No spoilers, but yes, it's going to get worse, and yes, I do promise it will all come out right in the end! I find characters more interesting when they sometimes make mistakes, because nobody's perfect. And there's more at stake when good people are at odds, as opposed to just pure "evil" villains. I have stories that explore various characters as the "bad" guys, even Dim-Dim (that one will never be posted, it's too dark). But I don't do unhappy endings, I promise!