Chapter 13: The Buoyancy Of Boats and Beloveds

As it would turn out, jewels and gold were worth more than the Hattian royal name in the bustling ports of the Mediterranean sea.

Harker rubbed his bare throat as a merchant danced away with the Egyptian collar of riches in hand, a faint tan line showing across his clavicle which he frowned at in vague miff.

Harker was dressed in disguising garbs of browning linen, his pale skin concealed along with golden hair; blue eyes often lowered to the ground and hidden beneath lashes. His colours were too obvious and their trio had no doubt that the search for Carol would impede them due to the similarities.

"I'm sorry, Harker," Milanun apologised with slumped shoulders, having misunderstood the white man's frown.

"Hm?" he uttered, turning to her as their guiding soldier spoke to the captain of the cargo vessel they'd bought passage to. "Why? It's not like they're mine, anyway. I doubt it's any skin of the Pharaoh's back whether or not he loses one or two of those blingy things."

The princess still withered in embarrassment and disappointment as she pulled her cloak lower over her dusty brown hair, the wavy locks tucked away from prying eyes. She sighed before blinking as her shoulder was bumped gently, cobalt slates smiling down at her in a manner that made her warm and fidgety as she ducked her head to hide her flush.

"The vessel is boarding now, your highness," Lifet announced quietly, calling the two to walk across the wooden boards and onto the lightly rocking ship.

The soldier took Milanun from Harker's side the first chance he got and assisted the princess in seating herself amongst some of the cargo barrels, tutting over her bound leg until she finally insisted he stopped. Milanun sighed and stretched her arms out, hearing her back groan from the rough conditions she had suffered for the past month.

"The trip will be short if this wind keeps up," the captain explained, walking up to the passengers with a dip of the head in recognition of the woman's prestige. "I'd say a good six days and we'll arrive at the port. If you need anything, dear passengers," he sent Harker a glance, trying to find any sort of identity within the shadows of the cloths. "Please, don't hesitate to ask one of the crew."

Harker nodded and the man went back to his work, leaving the three to handle their own situation. He yawned and hopped up to sit on a taller barrel beside Milanun, legs dangling over the edge as he looked over his shoulder to peer out at the expanse Mediterranean sea. Blue eyes scanned the horizon with interest, never having seen this sea before; add the fact that this was the ancient Mediterranean sea and Harker was utterly enamoured by the unpolluted, clear water.

"Do you like the water?" Milanun asked, touching the covered knee near her shoulder and gazing up at the Australian man.

"Yeah," he laughed, feeling the boat rock as it began to move out of port. "I've spent most of my life by the shore of the ocean, being cooped up in the palace has made me miss the open horizons."

The Hattian smiled at his wistful and free tone, the tension that she was so used to wrangling the white man's form seeping away as he continued to inhale salty sea air, his hood billowing in the breeze and allowing her to see the sharp shard of pearly teeth exposed in a liberated grin. She let out a giggle and a sigh, settling down to rest her cheek on her crossed arms as she watched her beloved relish in his freedom.

()()()

Harker laid out on the deck on his back, arms tucked under his head to pillow his skull as he stared up at the stars. Something coiled uncertainly in his stomach as fine strings of clouds drifted across his sight, the stress that weighed on him crawling across his skin and pressed down on his chest even as he took deep, measured breaths to contain it.

He let out a loud, gritted breath and rocked his foot irritably, his ears pricking as a breeze hushed past and ruffled his hood.

"The fuck were you thinking?" he hissed harshly at an array of stars, their brilliance blinking down at him in innocent confusion. "Why did you go on your own? Why didn't you think to come to me first?"

"Harker?"

The Australian flinched and sat up to see Milanun walking over, her hood down and around her shoulders as she approached with a bowl in hand. He gave a wry, weak smile as she kneeled beside him, a look of concern on her face that showed just how pathetic his efforts were that night.

"Hi, princess," he sighed, blinking in surprise when she grazed her fingers across his brow.

"You haven't eaten yet," she hummed, leaning on her hand as she tucked her knees in beside her. "I brought you your dinner. Though, it's just some dried fish and bread."

"Yeah, I'm just...not very hungry," Harker admitted quietly, rolling his head back to look up at the sky.

The Hattian royal frowned at him softly when he said that, her hand coming to lay on his chest for a moment before she sighed and shuffled to kneel at his head. She scooped his head from the hard deck and moved it to be pillowed by her thighs, the man stunned into silence and unable to stop her as she maneuvered him to her will.

"Are you so worried about that Carol?" she asked, pushing his cover down to run her fingers through tresses of soft gold. She smiled sweetly and looked down at the pale face of the man, his entire being glowing a ghostly radiance under the hooded moon, cerulean eyes vibrant and reflecting her visage like a pool of crystalline water.

"She's my friend, Milanun," the man murmured, letting her continue to card his hair as his skin tingled pleasantly.

The sound of the soldier Lifet joining them on the deck was barely disturbing, the Hattian man sitting away from the pair but close enough to respond should danger present itself to his princess.

"I'm sure my brother has been gentle with her," Milanun assured, scratching the crest of his pale scalp. "Izmir has always been soft for women."

"I hope so," he muttered and began to relax under her attention, eyes falling to a half-lidded content.

()()()

Milanun grimaced at the fourth day of bread and dried fish, the crusty dish laid limply in her lap as the fish's still intact eye peered up at her with its matte gaze. She murmured something quietly that would have made her mother faint before reluctantly nibbling on the unmarred edge of the dying bread.

"I've learnt that it's best to take a bit and swallow," Harker laughed, handing the girl a jug of luke-warm wine. "Just get a mouthful and wash it down - don't taste it."

The Hatti princess withered a bit but followed the man's example, her soldier doing a similar tactic off to the side. The group worked their way through the brittle meal with strain, taking longer than perhaps necessary to complete their clay plates of boat food.

"They're going to start fishing for the fresh catch soon," Lifet assured, taking the princess' picked at plate so she wouldn't need to rise from her seat on the rocking boat. "Not much longer to go, my princess, we'll make port very soon."

Harker smiled and set his hand on Milanun's shoulder as she gazed onto her near-empty cup, the drained visage of a lost princess who stared back making her quiver as she remembered the loose fit of her tattered dress in that dungeon. Her shudder made the Australian frown in concern and the way he thumbed at her earthy toned skin caused her to look up, dusty brown curls swaying as a breeze brushed the travellers.

"Are you okay?" he asked, touching her cheek with the back of his hand to check if she had regained her fever.

"Yes," she answered quickly, feeling her skin burn hot under his fingers. "I'm just...tired."

The foreigner hummed something low but nodded in acceptance of her fatigue as he stood and grasped her wrist.

"How about a nap then? It's getting too hot to stay out in the sun."

Milanun paused and felt a cold breeze go through before bowing her head gently with a smile as she got to her feet and followed her love into the cabins. She gasped a little as Harker lifted her to lay in a swaying hammock, the material straining to fit her curves and angles before a hand came and began combing her hair from her face.

"What's really wrong, Milanun?" the white being asked, standing beside her, level with his chest.

"I..." she bit her lip before sighing as she felt the man lean against the hammock, his warmth burning through the material and reaching her flesh. "I don't look the same as how I left home."

"You're definitely paler," he uttered, and she shook her head before touching her cheek.

"Not that, I'm so thin now. My cheeks are all sunken and my hair looks dead and-"

"You've been imprisoned and malnourished, of course you're going to look a bit daggy," Harker soothed as best he could, seeing the girl wither as she spoke. "But you'll bounce back in no time, you already look so much better than you did before!"

Milanun flinched at the idea of this man seeing her in a worse state, before starting as the hammock shifted again, the Australian shuffling them around until they were both crammed into the sling in a most uncomfortable and pleasing manner that made her heart flutter so happily.

"Hugs are good yeah?" he asked, getting a shaky nod as he wrapped his arms around the princess so she could rest on his chest and hear his steady breath.

"I wonder if my mother will recognise me," she uttered and the snort of humour that burst from the Australian made her body bounce.

"Mate, if my mum can recognise me after getting the tar beat out of me in a bar fight, you're mum'll recognise you like you never fuckin' left!" the man boomed, ethereal accent growing thick for her ears. "I know you may not be up to standard at the moment, but you just need some more time and you'll be as spiffy as before. Promise."

"But, what about the scar on my leg?" she murmured into his shoulder, feeling hot fingers spread over her back in a motion of comfort.

"A fucking medal," he huff "You suffered and survived. Lived right under that crazy Priestess' nose and then bolted."

Milanun gazed down at her leg for a couple moments, seeing how it carved itself into her earthly flesh; a pale contrast to her dark skin. She grimaced and thought of how she would have to cover it up once she returned to Hatti.

"You know," Harker hummed, pulling the woman's legs up until she was curled into a fetal position in his lap, allowing her to watch as he touched at the bloom of scarring. "It actually reminds me of a...Pearl inlay. Now, what's that called again?."

"Per-rel en-lay?" she echoed slowly, not quite able to twist her tongue the way he did - much like he couldn't do quite like hers.

"Yeah, sort of," he nodded, still tracing the scar and making her skin catch alight at his touch. "It's...Well, it's pearls set into some sort of material. It looks best when the base is a darker colour; it always looks beautiful."

"You think my scar is like that?" she asked, feeling her cheeks flush as the Westerner nodded with a soft smile. Milanun squeezed her eyes shut and dropped her head onto Harke's shoulder, hands bunched tight into fists as an overflow of emotions caused a near unbearable, physical pressure in her chest which demanded to be let out upon the man.

She bit her lip out of sight and stared at the pale patterns on the white man's chest, two shades of alabaster and moonstone pressed into the shape of a man and laid in the phantom shape of an absent collar. The lines and shapes of the Egyptian garb still clung to his skin like it was reluctant to let go, kissing his throat with the shadow of beads.

Milanun couldn't wait to have Hattian designs blemishing his skin instead.

()()()

Fresh fish, though pungent, was a blessing on the pallet.

Milanun consumed the white flesh happily as it came apart easily between her teeth, no longer needing to rip and chew whilst also picking about for bones. Salt and a kind of spice had been marinated into the fish for the royal, well-paying guests on the boat and all three of them appreciated the extra effort as they ate their fill with exuberance.

Harker was once again on a high crate, his feet hanging off the edge and occasionally bumping his knee against the Hattian princess' shoulder teasingly when she became just a touch too invested in relishing her meal. He smiled and flicked a small handful of bones into the water, raising an eyebrow when he saw the surface flutter with submerged activity.

"Do we...want to play a game?" he offered after a couple moments of lazing, plates thoroughly emptied at their sides.

Milanun blinked up at him for a moment before nodding and reclining on a sack of grain, her legs drawn to her chest in a relaxed manner as the sea breeze tugged at her dusty brown hair. She watched as her love clambered down to sit across from her on the long crate, his outstretched leg causing their ankles to brush and her skin to burn so pleasantly as he got comfortable and fixed the traveller's hood over his hair.

Her fingers twitched and she found herself laying her hand on his leg absently as Harker withdraw a sharp stone from his pocket, one he had been fiddling idly with since they had boarded the boat days ago.

"Okay, you know how to play norts and crosses?" Harker asked, scratching a grid into the wooden surface.

"Um, no, I don't believe so," she denied, shaking her head a little

The Westerner smiled and explained the simple game, handing over the stone for the woman to have the first turn and kicking them off for a fair few rounds before they eventually stopped, no more room on their place to draw and far too lazy to move.

"Lifet, how much longer until we hit Hatti?" Harker asked, filling his mouth with warm wine as the Hattian princess idly traced designs into his calf with a light grazing of her nails.

"Two more days; we should reach port by the next morning."

"Oh! We're so close, Harker!" Milanun beamed, making the man reflect it in all its hopeful and enthusiastic qualities.

"Yep, nearly there," he hummed, before letting out a huff of surprise as the woman flung herself at him, grabbing the man up in an ecstatic embrace that made him chortle as he reciprocated warmly. "I'm gonna take a wild guess and say you're excited?"

The grin told him just about everything he needed to no - thankfully, it was only 'just about everything'.

()()()

Memphis laid on the luxurious sunbed in the chambers of the Pharaoh, staring up at the ceiling with a gilded goblet hanging loosely from his fingers. His breath was slow and shallow as the blankets rose and fell with his chest, the place feeling so cold. Cold and sharp like he had swallowed shards of fluorite and left them to fester in his throat and oesophagus.

He felt like, if he were to die here, they'd crack him open for preparation and mummification to find him full of white quartz and sapphire, veins full of not blood but gold. Infected and then poisoned to the heart by those who fled without care for those they swooned and wounded.

"We have brought Harker's boat, my Pharaoh," General Minue announced, stepping into the room with two men who balanced the long, white watercraft.

"Put it over here," Memphis grunted, pointing at the wall close to him with his goblet hand before letting it sag yet again.

Minue thinned his lips but gestured his men to do as commanded, eyeing them as they took the boat across the room and handled it with such care. With the king's current mood, if they were to damage Harker's boat it was not unlikely that they would find themselves dead before the sun's new rise, soldier or not.

There was a soft 'thunk' as they placed it against the stone floor, leaning it up against the wall for the Pharaoh to gaze upon. The pale material seemed to glow in the late light, the sun kissing the earth and painting the sky a flush until everything held a peachy, bloody hue.

Memphis looked upon the flat boat silently as the men left the room, Minue casting him one final glance before exiting as well. He breathed slowly before bringing his cup to his lips and took a clumsy drink, eyes glazed from alcohol and heart glazed in ice.

They wanted him to be nice to them, to be soft and gentle. Then when he gives them a moment of leniency they break from his hold like wild horses from the stables. Perhaps he should have treated them like wild horses then; held them with reigns and bit bars.

But with the bit bars would stop those etherial eloquences that his Golden Set so loved to whisper and giggle in, strange songs and playful, cantering dances. Memphis didn't know if he had the heart to strap down his two deities of skies and waters.

The thought of them struggling against restraints stirred his stomach until he felt ill. What once would have made his sadistically satisfied now made him wither in disgust when such impressions were laid upon the images of his Pair.

No, he didn't want to torture them. He just wanted them home. Angry as he was, hurt and neglected in the heart, he didn't want to reflect that pain upon them for this, but rather, have them mend what damage they have afforded him.

They were gone, but he was bringing them home. One way or another.

()()()

"There it is!" Lifet announced, pointing to the fast approaching docks of Hatti.

"We're here! Harker, we've arrived!" Milanun cheered, pulling the pale man from their cabin with excitement, barely giving him time to pull the hood of his cloak over his complexion again.

Harker stared at the land of Hatti, Anatolia and ancient Turkey - the place which currently held Carol, his companion and the only one who truly empathised with his plight. On so many occasions Harker could have fled; used Carol's clumsy, and sometimes admittedly stupid, nature to his advantage to distract the Pharaoh and his troops.

And yet, here he stood, on a boat after days of travel, following this ridiculously dumb friend of his into her second captor's hands to try and pry her free.

"Yeah, there it is." Harker sighed, feeling so much older than eighteen.