Victory, a treasure planet fanfic

Victory

Note: This story takes place during Doppler's senior year at the Montressor University [thoroughly made-up by me]. He is all of twenty-two years old. Which places this story at least twenty-eight years before the events in Treasure Planet. That would make Sarah about three years old and Jim not even a twinkle in his parent's eyes. Feels odd, huh?

A whistle broke out into the air, shrill and scratching along Delbert Doppler's ears. His arms moved before his brain could impose logic on their movement. Hands curled firmly around his oars, left and right, feet shifting. The motion was echoed along the front and back of him, his team-mates readying their own oars, reacting as one, becoming an odd, twelve legged water bug. The coach sounded the whistle again, followed by a shouted command. His words echoed across the pond and returned to Delbert's consciousness as the boat was set in motion.

They slid across the water smoothly, with only the occasional pull harder there, Paten and Doppler, deeper breaths and right, right, good to intrude into their concentration. They were the Montressor University's Department of Astronomy and Astrophysics Rowing Team. The Rowing Academics, as the other teams referred to them when less-flattering names couldn't be used. Pulling on his oars, Delbert tried not to think about the derision with which the team was generally thought of. They were pretty good, all in all. Much better than anyone had expected. Third place in Montressor University's department-wide competition last year. Physics, after all, was an integral part of successfully propelling a boat forward.

Nadir Paten whistled, a cocky, appreciative sound, and Delbert looked up. A canoe was making its way towards them. It weaved a little as it realized their boat was headed straight towards it. Its passenger began to pull harder on the oars, scrambling away from a collision, and Delbert found himself staring.

The passenger was female. A tall, slim Canid, chestnut hair pulled into a tight ponytail and a slender, sculpted frame and the sun shining along her creamy skin and her blue eyes widening as she frantically manoeuvred the canoe and Delbert's hands going slack on his oars.

"Doppler, you oaf, look out!"

The tip of the boat hit the canoe with a dull thump, water splashing against both hulls, the canoe dipping and tipping as the girl held on to the sides. Delbert had risen to his feet, the boat pitching and weaving beneath him. He had turned towards the girl. He meant to steady her canoe and offer an apology. His hand shot out, and he found himself grasping one of the sides of the canoe, his feet scrambling over the rowboat. A voice cried out for him to steady himself.

In the next instant, green pond water closed over Delbert's eyes, and he found himself scrambling to hold onto the overturned canoe. He couldn't see the girl anywhere. Nadir had pitched overboard with him, and spluttered beside him, his feathers ruffling out as they became drenched. The birdman splashed his way towards their boat, coughing out the dirty water as he went. Laughter rang out, mingled with a few exasperated groans and the coach's less-than-amused harrumph. Delbert heard a splash, water breaking, a hand slapping against the canoe's side. The girl.

Her ears were pressed against her skull, hair flat against her cheeks, her eyes somewhat dilated as she gave him an unreadable look. Delbert decided it very much resembled rage and heard himself chuckle nervously.

"M-madam," he spluttered. "I was only trying to—"

"Help?"

Delbert allowed most of his body to slide beneath the water, till only his nose and eyes remained above the surface. The coach's voice came to him as if from far away. All he could see were the girl's blue eyes, drops of water running down her face and rolling towards the tip of her long, tapered nose. Her eyes still looked rather on the enraged side.

"Doppler," the coach was saying. "The rest of the team would like to get back to their practice. If you would...?"

An uncomfortable flush ran down his neck. "If I would... I would, er..." He looked at the girl and lifted his head out of water, attempting to straighten as he did so. "I would like to make up for this by helping you carry your canoe ashore." He began to tread water, his feet kicking beneath him. He felt his foot strike her ankle, and he slunk down into the water again.

The coach pinched his nose, thumb and index finger running over his eyes, ignoring the little chorus of immature ooh that had risen around him. "Be back in five minutes, Doppler," he sighed.

"Five?" Nadir chuckled. "The way he's going, he's likely to smack her head with the canoe in less than two."

* * *

An uncomfortable silence hung between them. They made their way towards the canoe drop-off kiosk without a word, thick, pungent drops of dirty pond water trailing into Delbert's mouth. Their wet shoes slapped against the concrete. Squish, suck, squish. Delbert's muscles were beginning to burn from holding up the canoe. He knew for certain that his face was burning. The kiosk seemed light-years away.

Delbert stumbled into the girl's back, and knew they had reached their destination. His throat contracted, heat spreading down his chest. She slung the canoe easily over to her left, checking to make sure his head was clear, and then set it against a growing pile by a column. Delbert could think of nothing to do but reach out a hand to steady it. The girl had turned to face him.

She stood still, her eyes blinking slowly, as if she were considering his existence. Observing, proving, analysing. Delbert felt certain a sign had appeared above him: Exhibit A, Delberticus Doppleraius. The girl's face broke out into a smile, and Delbert found his hand clasped firmly in hers. Handshake. She was shaking his hand.

"Thank you," she said. "Allorah Buckram. Women's rowing team, Department of Humanities. But I don't suppose I don't need to tell you that."

Her hand was warm, despite the traces of cold water that remained. Delbert flexed his fingers, then folded his arms behind his back, looking up at a place somewhere beyond her left shoulder. Out of the water, it was clear now that she was wearing the rowing team uniform, a sleeveless grey shirt and blue shorts. Department of Humanities was stitched out on the front of the shirt, echoing his own Department of Astrophysics.

"Um, no, I guess not, no," he muttered. "Not at that. I mean, canoe in the water, and all that. Rowing." He heard her chuckle, a throaty little sound, brimming with confidence. He fidgeted on his feet and shifted his eyes towards her knees. "I'm sorry about knocking you into the water, I—"

"Don't give it a second thought. I didn't join the rowing team to keep dry." She smiled. "Actually, I've knocked several of my team-mates overboard myself."

A high-pitched chuckle drifted out, and it was several beats before Delbert realized it belonged to him. He unclasped his arms and ran a hand through his wet hair. He was still pretty much drenched. They both were. He coughed, then made as if to leave.

"Well, um, I should, er..."

Allorah had walked towards a bench set up beside the kiosk. She looked up from pulling off her wet shoes, toes flexing, white and crinkled from hours in the water. "Oh, of course," she said. "You fellows get an extra practice hour this week, right? Intramurals coming up."

Delbert could only nod dumbly. Her toes were curling into themselves as she flexed her ankle. He felt a great desire to cough for at least a full hour. Instead, he raised one limp hand in goodbye and began to make his way back to his team-mates. He could hear the oars breaking the water as they positioned the boat, water slapping against its sides as they walked from one end to the other. Laughter rang out, and Delbert was pretty certain it was somehow related to him. He picked up his pace, starting to jog, leaving Allorah behind him.

She called out a cheerful goodbye, and it took everything within his power not to trip.

* * *

Nadir Paten flopped down onto the student lounge couch Delbert had chosen and fixed the Canid with a crafty look. "So," he said, his beak clicking. "How did it go?"

Delbert underlined a sentence in his etherium sciences textbook and tried his best to ignore the way Nadir kept edging closer, practically bouncing with curiosity. Delbert didn't really think much of Nadir. The young man was a Peacock, and tended firmly towards his race's inclination to be showy and petulant and self-absorbed and somewhat rude. They barely spoke, outside of rowing, and the mere fact that Nadir was speaking to him now meant only one thing: An opportunity to have some fun at Delbert's expense.

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," Delbert said curtly.

"Aw, come on, Doppler," Nadir said. "Canoe. Girl. Surely you remember?"

Colour shot out along Delbert's cheeks, but he struggled to keep his face straight. "Nothing happened," he mumbled, cursing silently at the fact that the words had escaped as a mumble. "I just helped her carry her canoe to the kiosk. That's all."

The Peacock leaned back against the couch, his beak cracking open in a smile. "She's in the humanity department's rowing team, you know. Transferred here last year, on an anthropology scholarship. Has big plans about heading out to Tuskrus and chronicling their militaristic development, or some such thing."

Delbert's eyebrows knotted together. "You seem to know an awful lot about her."

Stretching, Nadir let out a satisfied little chuckle. "I always make it a point to get to know the female population of this glorious institution." Delbert wanted to ram his textbook down the bird's mouth.

Instead, he rose to his feet and made a great show out of looking at his wristwatch, pulling back the sleeve of his coat, reading out the time under his breath, corroborating the information with the clock set on the opposite wall. He shot Nadir a meaningful look. "Aren't we running a tad bit late for our applied physics lecture?"

"Are we?" Nadir blinked his small, round eyes. He rose with lazy, calculated movements, arranging his tail feathers before reaching out to pat Delbert's shoulder. "Allorah comes to this lounge every day at two o'clock."

Delbert spluttered. "Why should I care about—"

Nadir shrugged, deep blue feathers shifting, emerald green peeking out from his collar. "She told me to tell you." He patted Delbert's shoulder again and gave him an expansive wink. "And so I have. Good luck."

Before Delbert could properly put together a snappy comeback, Nadir had walked away, one hand rising in a farewell salute, tail feathers trailing over the floor in a flash of blue and green and brown. Delbert spluttered uselessly, then mumbled a few meaningless sounds beneath his breath. At the same time, his eyes rose first to the clock on the wall, then to his wristwatch. 1.32 p.m.

Opening his etherium sciences book to a random chapter, Delbert sat back down on the couch.

* * *

Allorah speared a cucumber ring and popped it into her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully for a few minutes, her eyes trailing towards the ceiling. "Soggy," she said at length. "This food tastes as if they dredged it out of the pond."

Delbert heard the high-pitched chuckle he now acutely recognized as his own, and allowed it to float out between them. He pushed a few bonsab roots around his plate, searching for a suitable corner of the table for his eyes to rest. He couldn't quite look at Allorah, had been unable to fully look at her since she had arrived at the lounge, on schedule, at 2 o'clock. She had walked right up to Delbert and flashed him a friendly smile and invited him to lunch. His mouth had worked out a yes—or some affirmative noise, at least—before he realized what he had said.

"How did you come to be on the rowing team?" Allorah said now, dabbing at a spot of dressing on her lips. "Lifelong passion, curious interest, or required physical education course carried out too far?"

A bonsab root jumped out of his plate, and he attempted to push it back in. "Er, friend, actually. Zyskind Yehuda. He, um, graduated last year. Stationed. Cerulean Space Station. Rower."

Allorah chuckled, the same self-assurance from before colouring the sound. It teased out a smile from Delbert. He did sound rather on the stilted side. He set the errand bonsab root among its brothers and sisters and let his eyes rise, once, towards her face. Her eyes were shinning.

"Yes, well," he said. "Yehuda, yes. Rowing. I guess I stayed on out of loyalty."

"You're not half bad. Third place last year. That's certainly better than my team has accomplished." The words were spoken matter-of-factly, devoid of any bitterness. "And I actually joined out of personal interest. My brother was a member of our high school rowing team."

Delbert let out a limp little ah and fidgeted with a stray cucumber. He battled down the urge to say something stupid like so your brother got you interested in rowing? He focused instead on her fingernails. Neatly trimmed, coral pink nail polish, rounded at the edges. His own were bitten down almost to the quick, a nervous habit he had picked up during his junior year and couldn't seem to kick. Self-conscious, he curled his fingers into his palms.

"... should practice together," Allorah said.

His head snapped up. "P-pardon?" he fumbled.

"It'd be nice if we could practice together." She smiled. Her hand had risen to pat his knee. The temperature in the lounge rose by several degrees, Delbert's eyes blinking several times in quick succession. She withdrew her hand, rising as she did so. "Let me know if you'd be interested."

"Interested," he echoed lamely.

Her teeth flashed out in a bright smile. White, straight. Perfect. "Wonderful," she said. "Five o'clock then, next Tuesday?"

He felt himself go through the motions of nodding and agreeing and writing the date down on a napkin. She had leaned down to kiss his cheek lightly, and everything just seemed to patter away into white noise. Dimly, Delbert could swear he heard music. Violins and harps and someone stretching out the word amore. A smile scrawled its way across his mouth.

"Delbert, my boy," he murmured, Allorah's ankles moving away from him as she made her way across the lounge. "I think you might be in love."

* * *

Thomas Sutter blinked his wide-set fish eyes and strained against the oars. "In love?" he said incredulously. "With whom? I didn't think you were capable of the feeling, Doppler."

Delbert pulled on his oars and battled down the goofy grin he knew was plastered all over his face. "Well, there's a first time for everything." He gazed up at the overcast sky and thought it the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. "She's beautiful," he said. The comment drew an amused grunt from Thomas. He was a rather stoic Barracuda, and his opinion of love was that it was a muddling chemical reaction meant to guarantee that the etherium remain populated, for whatever reason it had become populated in the first place.

"Just as long as this great love of yours doesn't interfere with your rowing," he said.

"Not in the slightest," Delbert replied. "It won't even interfere with my ability to accurately predict the rate at which the waves of a supernova spread out, which is approximately 46.5 seconds at optimum speeds."

"Forty-two point five," Thomas grunted. He swivelled one eye towards Delbert, sceptical and amused at the same time.

Delbert coughed. "Give or take," he muttered. "I was close. No interference there, just a bit of scientific error margin." He frowned and let out a groan. "For pride's sake, Tom, four seconds difference."

The Barracuda merely shrugged. They rowed on in silence, hands pumping back and forth in rhythm, Delbert gazing down at his feet. Leave it to his team-mates to make even falling in love seem like some sort of crime. Academics, that's all they cared about. Four seconds indeed. Delbert set his lips into a thin line that very much resembled a pout.

"Well, I am in love," he muttered under his breath. "I'll be buggered if that's against the law..."

The coach's voice rang out, scattering his thoughts. "Doppler! Mind on the present task. You're letting your oars go slack there, boy!"

He pretended not to hear Thomas as he pulled harder at his oars, his neck itching under an embarrassing blush.

"There. You see?" chuckled the Barracuda. "It starts."

* * *

Allorah was laughing. She pulled on her oars and guided her practice boat forward in a smooth line, shooting Delbert a delighted smile. He waved from his place along the bank, echoing her smile. It was their third Tuesday of practice together. She had decided to go a round solo, trying out Delbert's suggestion that she not put quite so much strain on her shoulder blades.

"Amazing," she called out as she passed him. "I can't believe it took me an entire year to finally understand what the coach meant by that."

"Simple physics," Delbert called back.

She came ashore in a jogging bound, her ponytail slapping her back. He held out a thermos, which she accepted graciously, taking a long sip before drawing her hand over her mouth. She linked her fingers through his, and he felt his chest swell with pride. She was so beautiful, so poised, so near. They tied up the practice boat and made their way along the edge of the pond. The water reflected Allorah as she nestled her head against the crook of Delbert's shoulder, his forehead resting against hers.

"Three days till the intramurals," she said. "I can't wait. I've never felt this excited about it."

"Neither have I," Delbert said, his voice dreamy as he caught the scent of coconut sunscreen on her skin.

"You won't be angry if I beat you?"

"Hm?" His head lifted, his eyebrows knitting together. "Beat me?" The words sounded lame, and he felt foolish as she let out her throaty chuckle. Her hand squeezed his.

"Women against men. Last event, after every department gets a chance to duke it out against each other while remaining firmly divided among the genders." She tilted her head back to look at him. "Didn't they tell you?"

"Well, no," he said slowly. "Must be something new..."

She pulled on his arm, walking ahead of him and guiding him towards a shady spot beneath the trees. She leaned back with a contented sigh and flashed him an open smile. "It is new," she said. "The chair of the Psychology Department thought it up. Seemed to think it might give the whole thing a little oomph. Battle of the sexes and all that."

Delbert sat down next to her, his knees against his chest. He couldn't quite put his finger on what, but something in Allorah's cheerfulness was making him uncomfortable. He kept picturing Thomas, pulling on the oars and grunting out forty-two pint five, Nadir blinking his eyes and giving him a lazy smile, the coach snapping him back to attention. He pulled at a blade of grass and twirled it between his fingers. Allorah's arms wrapped around his back, but his eyes never left the little twirling blade.

"Don't look so moody," she said. "Feeling guilty...?"

He blinked. "About what?"

"About helping me improve. Maybe you're scared your team-mates will think you're helping me out, giving me an edge. Hm?"

She looked so irresistible, her eyes bright and clear, her mouth set in an impish smile, her fingers trailing over his collarbone. He allowed himself to smile, shoulders hunching forward as he blushed. What she said made sense. Maybe he had been feeling guilty. But there was no reason to. Everyone was entitled to improve, and wasn't that what coaches were for? If he gave Allorah a few pointers, it was only as part of the spirit of self-improvement and friendly competition and a chance at victory that was the right of every member of a team. He was just being silly.

He ran a hand over her arm and grinned. "You'll be great," he said. "And I'll be very proud of you."

His breath was practically knocked out of him as she first tightened her arms around his back, then turned him around to kiss him long and full and warmly on the lips.

* * *

"I'm dying!" Nadir moaned. "Can't you see I'm dying? Feel my pulse!"

He pushed his skinny wrist under Delbert's nose, silently requesting that the Canid feel for his weakening life signs. Delbert shoved the wrist firmly out of the way. Nadir had been overreacting all day, ever since the astrophysics department rowing team had begun edging closer and closer to third place in the intramurals. If they bested the chemistry department in the next round, they'd place second. Delbert was as excited as everyone else—had practically tipped their boat over as he jumped up in a victory dance—but Nadir's theatrics were a bit too much to take.

Scanning the crowd, firmly ignoring the Peacock's continued groans over his impending demise, Delbert picked out Allorah. She was standing with her team-mates, her eyes focused and steady as they readied their boat. Her team had reached second place, would finish first if they beat out the mathematics department. Then it would be women against men. Delbert swallowed down a feeling of puzzling apprehension and waved at her. She caught his wave and smiled, blowing him a kiss.

"Lover boy," Thomas said. "Heads up. We're on."

The next few minutes passed by in a blur of straining and pulling and blue sky streaking out overhead as their boat slid across the water. Even Nadir grew determined and focused. Everything was rushing towards the finish line, the cheers and whistles and shouted encouragements from the crowd blurring into a wall of background noise as they pulled up their oars and heard the voice crackling out over the speakers announce their victory. It was a few seconds before the words registered. Delbert felt a smile creep out over his face as it dawned on him, his team-mates echoing his own expression, the feeling rippling out among them like a wave.

Nadir punched the air, laughing. "Second place!" he crowed. He stood up and cupped his hands around his beak. "Take that, chemistry! How's that for a winning formula?!"

"Siddown," Thomas grumbled.

But Delbert could see the Barracuda was as pleased as Nadir. Second place. Not bad. Not bad at all for the Rowing Academics. Delbert joined the team in a tight, huddled hug, their coach squeezing the daylights out of them, laughing and crying at once. Not bad, the coach kept saying, over and over. The cheers from the crowd mingled with his words, and Delbert felt invincible.

* * *

Allorah smiled from across him, and Delbert felt a lump settle firmly into the pit of his stomach. The humanities' women's team had placed second again. The astrophysics' men's team had surprised even itself by placing second as well, the crux of the competition down to each other. Delbert fingered his oar and kept his gaze studiously averted from Thomas—who had begun to frown—and Nadir—who had firmly planted a maddeningly superior grin on his face—and Allorah—who only looked more beautiful when her face grew determined and excited under the prospect of friendly competition.

It seemed an epoch before the whistle blew. Twenty-four oars hit the water and the boats shot forward. Delbert felt the world become a blur, concentrating on the pumping of his arms. Forward and back, forward and back, pull. He could feel the water sliding by underneath him, shooting out towards the distant horizon. Thomas's voice had begun to rattle around his head again. Forty-two point five. Allorah's voice echoed alongside it. Maybe you're scared your team-mates will think you're helping me out, giving me an edge. Delbert shook his head.

He was being silly. Lifting his head, he looked out across at Allorah's team. She seemed suspended among them, the only thing he could focus on. Her chestnut hair was pulled back tightly, flat against her skull as her arms shot back and forth, her back dipping up and down. Delbert felt the beginnings of a smile tug at his lips.

And then, she was looking at him. Looking straight at him and smiling and warmth spilling into her eyes and her lips drawing over her white perfect teeth and her body lithe and creamy and beautiful and Delbert's lips scrawling out a goofy grin and his hands going slack on the oars and a little hum starting up at the back of his head as he realized what had just happened.

Someone called out his name. A thoroughly annoyed someone. Delbert couldn't tell if it was Thomas or Nadir or the coach or himself. The world had been smothered under a heavy green blanket of water. Their boat had flipped over, Doppler's neglected oars dipping into the water as the others rose and the motion throwing out their balance and Delbert had somehow attempted to lunge to his feet to say something to Allorah and then it was all water. Water and a mad dash to break out into the surface.

Delbert was the first to break through. He heard the speakers blare out the women's team's victory, his hands purchasing a grip along the hull of their capsized boat. For a few seconds, he bobbed there in dumb shock. Allorah was smiling at him and winking, slowly, blowing him a kiss. Thomas voice had risen in a resigned mutter, Nadir smiling impishly at Allorah and winking at her in return. Delbert felt laughter bubbling up in his throat. He slapped the water with his fist, his eyes bright.

"Well I'll be," he laughed. "If that wasn't the sweetest defeat ever!"

Author's Note:

Wrote this story nine months ago. I never posted it because I kept promising it an editing section. Well... I never got around to it. Feel very guilty about that. Still, I wanted to post this up, because I quite like Doppler.

The characters of Nadir Paten and Thomas Sutter were meant to be voiced by Adrien Brody and Lance Henriksen, respectively. Old habit of mine. ;-)