Eventually Rhaena was able to uncover where Ilyan had taken her sword and hunting horn. Having taken them from her when he'd fished her from the water, they were now safely under lock and key. He intended to keep them as a prize. Rhaena had other opinions. She left them where they were, however, because for the time being she had to think of how she was going to retrieve them without being caught, and thus far Ilyan had only let her out upon deck after dark when the rest of the crew had gone to bed, and always with the watchful Barbaros keeping her within his sights. At the very least she was glad for the fresh air and the chance to look at the moon and stars each night. Some of them she knew, most she did not. Ilyan was more than willing to point them out and name them for her, telling her each of their stories as she listened, sometimes asking a question which seemed to make Ilyan happier than anything. When the shift changed, Rhaena was encouraged to return to the cabin where Ilya soon accompanied her.
Insisting that he must entertain his guest, Ilya would take up a lyre and strum prettily, proving himself to be a rather good musician with a fair voice. It was in these moments Rhaena learned a little more about her captor, such as his love for music and how if he were not a pirate, he would be a travelling bard. He knew his letters and how to write, having stolen a scholarly man once and had bartered lessons from him in exchange for his freedom. He had sailed from the western coast of Westeros all the way to Asshai and back, able to tell Rhaena of many strange and wonderful things he had seen, but always he would end saying, "but none are as wonderful or beautiful are you, my beloved princess." Then he would strum his strings and take up another song. This was how he charmed her, gradually coaxing a few smiles from the seemingly impassive woman until one night after he had told a particularly bawdy joke, Rhaena had laughed. "She laughs! Gods be good, I can retire a rich man and live the rest of my life feasting upon the memory of such a sweet and precious sound." Shaking her head at his antics, Rhaena merely clicked her tongue and turned her head away.
Were she not his prisoner, Rhaena might have even considered a friendship with the man. However so long as she was a captive and being used as a means to strip the realm of every penny it possessed, Rhaena maintained a certain distance between them and a barrier than no amount of jokes or songs would allow Ilyan to cross. Soon enough she would have her sword and horn in hand, and after that she would escape the moment they were in sight of land. Calling for Rhaegal would draw too much attention, so her escape must be the moment she had reclaimed her belongings. Once she was on land, she could call for him. If he was near, he would hear her, even if it were many miles away. If not, he would eventually return to his nest on Dragonstone, and there she would be waiting for him. They would have to fly back to Naath, of course, to tell Grey Worm and Missandei she was alright, but she intended to return south anyway. She still was yet to visit Valyria, and from there she would fly to Bay of Dragons. After that…perhaps she would fly west to seek out Arya and Sandor.
All plans to escape and resume her travels were interrupted however, when the ship entered the thralls of a storm. Lightning lashed the sky and rain bolted down as fierce as arrows, tearing at the sails as the ship was thrown from one wave to another, the ravenous ocean bearing its teeth as it wailed and howled. Rhaena was thrown about in her room, struggling to maintain her standing as she staggered forwards and pulled herself through the door when the ship lurched drastically, before all at once it tipped forwards once more and rocked to the side. Where Rhaena initially struggled to pull herself through the door, she was suddenly thrown through it and would have hit the floor had she not grabbed hold of the desk. Cursing, she managed to get herself upright just as the door flew open to reveal a rain sodden Ilyan. Monetarily distracted by the open flair of his shirt which revealed the key to the cabin nestled at his breast which in itself was stirring; the sight of rain dripping down the pleasing contours of his body only added to his masculine appeal. Rhaena forced herself to look up into his face where his black curls plastered to his skin. "Princess! Are you alright?" Shouting over the thunder and waves, Ilya pulled himself inside as Rhaena nodded curtly. This was the first time she was experiencing a storm at sea. Although unnerving, she refused to be afraid. "We're stuck in this squall for now, get down and cover your head. We'll be through it soon enough." Reaching her, Ilya tenderly drew Rhaena forwards and once his arms were about her, his strength kept her upright without swaying. Once she was against his chest, Rhaena could only stare up at him. His chest was like solid oak, hard and sinewy under her fingertips with dark hairs as well as the cold metal of the key tickling at her skin. Seemingly surprised by his own action, Ilyan dropped his mouth as if to say something but could not find the words. Instead, he saw the fright in her eyes, the unease. Growing tender towards such an expression, Ilyan slipped his fingers through Rhaena's hair, feeling how soft and fine it was. Gripping her head firmly, he managed a smile for her. "We'll make it through, I give you my word, princess."
Unable to do anything else, Rhaena allowed Ilyan to draw her to the table and usher her under it, warning her to keep her head down and to keep up her spirits until they reached calmer waters. Just as Ilyan pulled back, they struck another wild wave which almost tossed them over, Ilyan cursing as he expertly climbed his way out of the cabin and returned onto the deck in order to bellow his orders. The door slammed itself shut behind him when the ship levelled out, but it was not locked. Rhaena stayed put for as long as she could, taking the time to gather her wits and steady her heartbeat until finally she could stand it no longer. Crawling out from underneath the table just as it was overturned by another lunge of the ship, Rhaena carefully made her way to the door and upon reaching it, wrenched it open. A wash of water immediately slammed against her. Well, it seemed pointless to turn back now. Rhaena was already soaked through. Instead, she allowed herself to look outside, using the doorframe for support as she saw the angry black clouds split only by the momentary flash of lightning, appearing almost like a threatening grin before it faded.
Sailors rushed to man their posts, tossing water over the side, tying off ropes and lines and generally seeming utterly chaotic that Rhaena could make no sense of. The ship groaned, struggling against the onslaught of both storm and sky as Rhaena heard Ilyan's shout from above on the quarterdeck. Drawn to his voice, Rhaena staggered outside and quickly grasped hold of the wooden rail of the stairs, slipping momentarily on the deck but pulled herself upright and started to climb. The moment Ilyan's eyes fell upon her, he was more shocked than angry. She was perhaps the calmest thing within the entire storm, ascending almost like a drifting dream as she fixed her violet eyes upon his. They flashed with each strike of lightning, but never once did she flinch. As the rain lashed against her, she continued forwards until she had reached him, Ilyan staring as he continued to struggle to hold the wheel of his ship. Silently, Rhaena reached out her hand and pressed her palm against his bare shoulder, his shirt having all but completely slipped off. The moment he felt the press of her hand a sudden, invigorating warmth flowed through him, chasing away the frozen chill that had seeped into his bones and renewed his strength. Still staring at her, Rhaena then grasped hold of the wheel with the firmest grip she could muster, then pulled with him.
Prompted back into action, Ilyan shielded the princess from another wave as it washed over the deck then put his arm around her, holding the wheel with her nestled before him as together, they fought to counter the swell of the waves and keep the Stargazer moving forwards without being turned over. Whatever Rhaena had done to him, Ilyan felt as if his strength had doubled. They waged their war against the storm and seemingly against the gods themselves. Lightning tore at the sky as Rhaena did all she could to keep the Stargazer steady until gradually the rolling waves grew less ferocious, the winds ceased their howling and even the rain did not feel so intense, pattering against their skin as the Stargazer burst through the storm's barrier and to calmer waters. Behind them, a final bolt of lightning filled the sky as if to hiss in anger to lose it's prey, but now they were beyond it's reach it could only rumble and growl distantly. A rising cheer was made by the crew, celebrating their outracing the storm as they shrieked and undulated, clapping one another upon their backs and racing through the rigging and across the deck. Ilyan allowed them their celebration, staying at the wheel as his pulse continued to thunder through him from the thrill of the battle against the elements themselves. Curling his arm more securely around the princess's waist, Ilyan gave a quick tug to pull him against his chest as she made a delicious little gasp, eyes widening as she twisted to stare up at him. There was her tongue again. Ilyan wondered if he should warn her that she was tempting him with that look of hers, wanting nothing more than to sweep down and claim her lips and tongue for his own. He restrained himself, instead only giving her a brash grin.
Both of them were utterly soaked and as Ilyan held the princess flush against him, he could feel every part of her as the wetness of her shirt revealed the comely shape of her breasts and hardened teats. Best get her tucked away again before the crew could get a proper look at her. Having not made port in several weeks they were likely gasping for the feel of a woman and since the princess was the finest woman to ever be found, knew that they would break down her door and step over his cold corpse in order to have what they wanted if their desperation grew fierce enough. So with a mischievous squeeze of his hand at her buttocks, Ilyan enjoyed the indignant squeak of the princess before he whisked her back into her room so that she was out of sight and mind of his crew. There were repairs to be made and the ship set to rights, so Ilyan set to work barking out his orders and, as the skies cleared to reveal the stars, set about the task of finding out how far off course the storm had thrown them.