Yeeeeah uh, this chapter's been done and betaed for a month, and I totally forgot it was here. -sheepish grin- Soooo, since frantically writing for the Pharaoh's Palace's round robin actually sparked my lagging interest in writing again, here is LCDLM ch. 5... a bit too late!
Wow, yeah, I'm soooooo out of it. WAY too much work. -sob- Anyhow, I apologize if this story is very bland so far. I tried to write something interesting, but it didn't work. My writing skills have gone down the drain lately. TT I wish I could have done a better job on this chapter, but this is as good as its going to get while I'm strangled by schoolwork and totally lacking in sleep. (You know, its really amazing how much you can get done at two in the morning. -wince-)
And as always, thank you all for the wonderful reviews. I'm too tired right now to reply to individual reviewers, but I'm happy people find this fic relatively amusing. And yes, I do make an attempt to make their dialogue seem (kinda) in character/in the time period; I'm very VERY happy people appreciate that. :-p You guys always make my day. Thank you so much for the support! And thanks to my beta's Soraki and Moonlitspire. I LUV U GUYS! (I didn't use some of ur suggestions cuz I thought it might change my style… Please don't mind!)
Anyhow, if you guys won't hate me for boring you out of your minds again, I present to you this odd chapter I half wrote on a day I was supposed to be studying for three friggin' tests. (I have the urge to write at the worst of times, don't I? This is why I'm doing crappy in school. Oh, well... -sigh-) And keeps screwing up my updates. What is UP with taking away all the symbols I like to use, huh?! HUH?! TT
And oh yeah, a VERY late happy b-day to our fave blue-eyed CEO. HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY, SETO DAHLING!! -smooch- -glomp- XD
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(...) translated French
"..." English (occasionally w/ un-translated words from other languages)
/.../ translated ancient Egyptian
'...' private thoughts
italics words/terms/pronunciations NOT in the language being currently spoken or in the English narration
bold song lyrics
footnotes
AN author's note
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CHAPTER FIVE: All Hands On Deck
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"Your majesty...?"
Surrounded by maids fussing over her, Sophie stopped her pacing to search for the source of the voice. She smiled tiredly when she saw Yami's fair face peering through the crack of the semi-open doors. "Come in, child."
Tentatively, Yami stepped into the chamber, followed by the ever-present Mahado, who quickly fell into a deep bow by the doorway. After a moment of brief hesitation, the Prince swept across the floor to the Queen, bowing to kiss her hand graciously.
Sophia's blue eyes, though slightly swollen from crying, were warm and affectionate as she gently pulled the boy up by his shoulders. "What is it, love?" she asked softly as he stood.
Yami shifted awkwardly but gave her a sweet smile. "I came to wish you a good trip, milady."
Sophia smiled wearily and gave him a loving kiss on the cheek. She soothed his wild hair affectionately, patting his cheeks. "You are too kind, little one."
Yami beamed briefly under her affection, then quickly deflated. He squirmed a bit, looking away shyly, mouth half open as if to speak.
Sophia noticed this instantly and frowned. "Gracious, child, what bothers you so?"
Yami flushed a little, squirming some more. "Well, I-I was wondering if... if you'd tell me more about what England was like..." He blushed darker, adding quickly, "You, know, after your trip, I mean... After all, its simply dreadful that your father's ill and.. well..." he trailed off in embarrassment.
Sophia raised a delicate eyebrow.
Oh, how she had forgotten! When she first arrived in France, she had been startled to find a certainly ruby-eyed little Prince all over her, filled with interest and demanding to know all she knew. The boy had been particularly interested in her travels, soaking up all her nostalgic tales of England like a sponge. Sophia, of course, delighted in feeding that ravenous curiosity, but was absolutely horrified to hear that the boy was forbidden from leaving the palace. She had pleaded constantly with her husband to let the poor Prince out, but to no avail.
Suddenly, it was as if the heavens had sent down a message written out in lightening across the sky. Almost squealing as a brilliant idea hit her, Sophia's tear-stained face abruptly broke out in a massive grin.
Yami eyed the Queen oddly, brow furrowing in bafflement at her sudden change of mood.
Ignoring that look, Sophia clapped her hands in a brief spell of exultation. "Oh, come, darling!" she cried suddenly, sweeping past a thoroughly confused Mahado and out of the room. "Quickly now! I must speak with your father!"
&&&&&&&&&&
Having been stationed at the front gates for the better part of the morning, Seto had been overlooking the loading of the carriages when the news came to him; the Prince would be coming with them to England. Honest to God, Seto couldn't recall what his reaction had been then. Andrew, on the other hand, eagerly reported that the Commodore had gone ashen white.
In any case, Seto now found himself pacing like a madman before the gate, dreading the moment that Sophia would appear with Yami --and no doubt Mahado-- in tow. Seto wasn't sure if spending days on end with the Prince was a blessing, a curse, or at least a very sick cosmic joke. Sighing, the officer stopped briefly to rub his temple, his head throbbing mercilessly with a painful headache. Ah yes, and he couldn't forget Mahado. Now life with him was bound to be interesting, at the very least. Seto chuckled bitterly to himself. He had no doubt that the urge to toss the musketeer overboard will become very tempting when they were out at sea.
Thankfully, Sophia had made it very clear that she did not want any "burdensome" escorts besides Seto and his men. That meant no maids, no musketeers and certainly no French guards. Unfortunately, Seto was sure that it would take more than even a Queen's command to separate Mahado from his young charge; more often than not, it seemed that the Prince and his musketeer were joined at the hip.
"Goodness gracious, will you stop that dreadful pacing? You're giving me a headache."
Seto looked up to see Andrew leaning out the carriage window, looking positively bored. The Commodore sent his friend a dark glare.
Andrew rolled his eyes, completely immune to the look. "You shouldn't be so goddamn fussy. It'll only be a few days."
"The longest days of my life, no doubt," Seto murmured with a frown, dread in his very tone.
"Well, its still not polite to pace around like some rampaging tiger," sniffed Andrew, "You do need to stop and greet them, after all."
"As do you," snapped Seto, "So get out."
"Yes, sir," Andrew replied with a bit of sarcasm, yawning as he stepped out of the carriage.
Seto felt a brief pang of guilt as he saw the motion. It was already being repeated by other members of his crew, a few of them already nodding off inside various carriages. The men had gotten very little sleep since the arrival of the night messenger, hardly enough to sustain them through the day, even by military standards. Now, normally, marines were trained to go days on end without sleep, but even so, none of the crew had slept well since Seto's sudden promotion long before the impromptu trip to France. That lack of sleep seemed to be taking its toll; like so many others of Seto's crew, Edward stumbled past both officers, bags under his eyes and a distinct slouch to his thin frame. The boy stopped long enough to give a drowsy salute to Seto and Andrew, then promptly threw himself into one of the carriages and collapsed inside.
Seto watched this with a bit of worry, but couldn't give the situation more thought when Andrew's voice broke the stifling silence.
"Ah, your majesties!"
Stiffening visibly, Seto turned to see Sophia, a rather flustered Yami, and a scowling Mahado striding across the main courtyard from the palace doorway, escorted by a few gaurds who were dragging along their traveling bags. As awkward as they seemed, the trio were a lovely sight in the low light of the morning-- Sophia dressed in modest tan, Yami in elegant red and gold, and Mahado in dark maroon and black. Even so, the Commodore felt his heart leap up to his throat. Swallowing back a large sigh, he forced a thin smile and bowed as the small group approached.
Sophia greeted him with a warm smile, and Seto was thankful that she didn't look nearly as hysterical or grief-stricken as she did earlier. Yami, on the other hand, wouldn't meet Seto's gaze, turning a lovely shade of red as they drew ever closer to each other. Mahado just seemed miserable, sending the Commodore a defiant and dirty look as if this was all some kind of cruel and unusual punishment.
'As if I'm happy to see you, too,' Seto thought dryly, chuckling darkly to himself. Coughing awkwardly, he straightened, smoothing his face into what he hoped was an expression of apathy. With as much flourish he could muster at this horrible hour, he opened the door to the main carriage, holding his hand out for Sophia and consciously avoiding both Mahado's and Yami's gazes. "I apologize for the hastiness, my Queen, but we must hurry if we are to make the best of our time." Seto was quite pleased to hear that his voice did not waver.
Sophia nodded tiredly, accepting his hand as he helped her climb --with some difficulty -- into the carriage. Ever the gentlemen, Seto continued to hold the door open, watching solemnly as Yami climbed in gracefully after Sophia. The boy sent him a soft word of thanks and received a curt nod in reply, though the Commodore quickly found himself looking down at his shoes, fighting the rising heat in his neck. Through both his hat and wig, Seto could almost feel Mahado's fierce scowl boring into him as the musketeer followed the Prince into the carriage.
Sighing as the three inside settled themselves, Seto glanced briefly over his shoulder, satisfied to see that the bags had been loaded. Andrew, who was ushering the rest of the crew into their respective carriages, waggled his eyebrows in the Commodore's direction, as if to say, "Ha ha, thank the Lord I'm not you."
Rolling his eyes in return, Seto sent his lieutenant a meaningful glare before climbing into the carriage himself, inwardly sighing. This was going to be a very long day.
&&&&&&&&&&
The carriage ride was... interesting. Mahado had quickly grown bored of glaring at Seto and instead spent the rest of the time trying to cover the carriage window from the curious eyes of commoners. Yami, fascinated by the vast fields and bustling towns of France, blatantly ignored his efforts and repeatedly opened the curtains to peer outside, his eyes childishly wide with wonder and excitement. Seto found this absolutely adorable, though he would never admit it aloud. Sophia patiently spent much of her time answering the endless string of questions that poured from the Prince; Seto absently noted, with relief, that this activity took her mind off her father.
Twice, they stopped briefly to eat, and much to both Seto's and Mahado's dismay, Yami spent almost the entire time playing with dirty little peasant children, eager to learn their ways. Sophia, however, wouldn't let Seto nor Mahado intervene with her stepson's activities, so the two had to settle for glowering at each from across a café table. A few times, their glaring contest would be briefly interrupted; Seto would be called away by one of his crew, or Mahado would rush desperately to ward off some hungry admirers from Yami's private space. In the end, however, both returned to their shared table only to throw dark, dirty looks at each other.
Back on the road, it wasn't any better. At least when they were in town, there was always something else to watch; some women hanging clothing outside, a few children chasing a puppy, a drunkard singing on the streets, that sort of thing. In the carriages, however, Seto and Mahado had very little to look at but each other. That soon got terribly boring, if not nerve-wrackingly annoying.
Hours into the journey, as the stifling mid-day heat began to shorten tempers and melt patience, the carriage felt more and more like a prison. Seto, though unbothered by any temperature, found that his headache was growing steadily worse and was just not going away. In an effort to relieve his agony, he had taken to resting his hat --or as much of it he dared to shift off his head without publicly denouncing proper etiquette-- against his forehead, eyes shut tightly against the offending light that peeked through the carriage curtains. Beside him, Sophia spend the time brooding silently. In one hand, she flapped her hand fan madly, while her other arm sought constantly to be linked with Seto's-- a clear sign of her worry. Mahado, large hat tilted casually yet defiantly against one side of his head, sat slouched in the seat across from the Queen, glaring at some wicked being beyond her head that only he could see. Having grown bored with the endless fields flying past their window, Yami soon fell asleep on Mahado's shoulder, rocked by the rumbling of the carriage.
Seto eventually found himself staring at the Prince, mesmerized by the graceful curves of the boy's profile. The boy was beautiful lying there with his eyes closed in blissful sleep, his long eyelashes dark against his bronzed skin, his blond bangs curling angelically around his fair face. He looked so... peaceful. Seto wondered briefly if he ever looked that innocent, that relaxed.
It was only when Mahado's hand reached out to brush the bangs off the boy's cheek that the Commodore jolted back into reality. Seto sent Mahado a quick, questioning glance. The musketeer, eyed him suspiciously, a clear warning in his green eyes. Somewhat uncomfortable to be caught staring, Seto looked away and out the window. He felt Mahado glare at him for a moment more before turning away.
They didn't look at each other again for the rest of the journey.
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They arrived at the port city sometime in the afternoon, after nearly ten horrendously tedious hours of constant riding. Their horses were exhausted, as were all the passengers. Those that slept during the trip were groggy, and those that did not were just cranky.
When they pulled into the bustling town, Yami was already awake, peering out the window with wide eyes. They passed endless rows of paved streets, each lined with cozy old houses and colorful little shops selling food, goods and some other odds and ends that Yami desperately wanted to identify. The air was filled with vendors' shouts and the lively murmuring of the crowd. The streets were packed with people; women rushed about to do their shopping, bartering for lower prices and stopping briefly to gossip; men hustled this way and that with bags of flour and other supplies, sweat soaking their faded shirts; a few children ushered a flock of white ducks down the road, while a few others, covered in mud, ran after a poor three-legged puppy. Smells of manure, meat, and pastry bombarded the prince's senses, making his nose wrinkle.
Then a new smell began to overwhelm the others, stark, salty and refreshing. The sound of seagull's cawing mingled with the noise of the town. Much to Mahado's dismay, Yami squealed and stuck his head out the window, eyes ablaze with curiosity. 'I recognize that smell...' the boy thought to himself, in glee. It was the same aroma he had sensed on the Commodore's jacket that night at the party.
It was the smell of the ocean.
Yami's fair face broke into a giant, delighted grin. The large road before them ended abruptly a few hundred yards in front of them, as did the line of houses and buildings on either side. A wide, wooden boardwalk then continued on for another few yards, covered with people, barrels and boxes of various supplies. Ships lined up against the dock, all tied to the boardwalk by numerous ropes, with their masts rising high above the port. Men, both in and out of uniform, dragged supplies up and down the planks. On the decks of the largest ships swarmed numerous men in blue jackets and dark hats, their uniforms marking them clearly as men of the British Royal Navy.
Yami felt his breath catch in his throat. It had been many years since he had been on any ship, let alone even seen one. Even so, these fine specimens were clearly marvelous, beautifully crafted even to the untrained eye. One, directly in front, was labeled the H.M.S. Dragon, a fine, elegant ship made of dark, strong oak, with a carved dragon on the front of her bow and her name painted proudly in slender, white calligraphy just under her railing. Down her side were, visibly, the exposed muzzles of numerous cannons, bringing a dangerous edge to her almost serene beauty. A smaller and sleeker ship, the H.M.S. Falcon, rested beside her larger sister, all sleek and lean. Two other ships, nearly identical and massive in bulk, were labeled the H.M.S. Queen Susan and the H.M.S. Atlantica, both armed with a considerable amount of cannons. The last was the H.M.S. Lady Eva, an extremely elaborate ship with no cannons in sight but plenty of extravagant decorations.
Yami looked past them, inhaling the sweet ocean air. Beyond the ships, there was just ocean... Pure, beautiful ocean. Candy for the eyes, it was vast blanket of ever-changing blue, sparkling with the golden light of the sun. In the distance, a pale, silvery horizon was drawn neatly between the water and the air, dotted with the distant shadows of merchant ships and floating masses of seagulls.
"Your majesty, I must protest," pleaded Mahado from inside the carriage, exasperation in his voice, "If you would only settle down..."
Sighing, Yami relished the cool, salty air for a moment more. Then, all too aware of the stares he was getting from passer-byers, he ducked his head back in the carriage. Once inside, , the Prince blinked rapidly, his eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness. Looking up with an expression of pure innocence, he was met with varying degrees of amusement. Sophia was grinning broadly at his eagerness, looking quite pleased; Mahado, though frowning, also seemed quite content with Yami's excitement, his green eyes warm and gentle. And Seto... well... Seto wasn't looking at Yami at all. Instead, he was actually mirroring the prince's example, peering out the window with the eagerness of a child. His normally icy blue eyes were suddenly alive with anticipation, suppressed excitement all but radiating off his body.
Yami thought the Commodore looked so cute just then, but he dared not say it.
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"Des beaux puissants bateaux..."Seto heard two chatting men mutter, both eying the line of brigs along the dock, "Des très beaux bateaux!" (Fine ships... Mighty fine ships...)
The Commodore's lips twitched upwards.
"Soyez maudit les Anglais pour être aussi corrompu..." (Damn the Brits for being so spoiled...)
Seto rolled his eyes.
Then, a different voice came to Seto's ears, clearer and closer, echoing the men's compliment.
"Oh, they're simply marvelous!"
Seto turned, eyebrows arching under the brim of his hat. He was mildly surprised to see that the statement came from the Prince, whom he had quite quickly forgotten about in his own excitement.
The boy was grinning at him, looking windblown but positively radiant in the afternoon sun. "Your ships," he repeated, more contained this time, "I think they're marvelous."
Seto nodded at him briefly before turning back to where he had been watching his men load the ships. The Commodore lifted his chin proudly, as if saluting the line of ships before him. "That they are," he murmured fondly, not even attempting to hide the pride in his tone.
Yami came and stood beside him, soaking in everything he saw like a child exposed to all the joys of a candy store. Eyes wide, he took in the massive fluttering sails, the men climbing about on deck, the gleam of the sleek hulls... These ships were, no doubt, the pride of the British Royal Navy. The thought that they were Seto's made them all the more precious.
"Is this what it's normally like?" Yami asked finally, breathlessly.
Seto shifted his eyes down toward the Prince, frowning. "Is what like?"
"You know... the life of a sailor," Yami shrugged, motioning aimlessly with his arms, "The town, the people, the work... Is it always this busy?"
Seto pondered for a moment, then gave a dry smirk. "Well, that would depend on how one defines 'busy', your highness," he answered quietly.
They drifted again into a comfortable lapse of silence, side by side, Seto's gaze fixed and dutiful, Yami's wandering all over.
"How do you like your chambers?" asked Seto suddenly, eyes still looking ahead, "Does the Lady Eva suits you?"
Yami looked up, startled, "Oh, yes, certainly, but..." he trailed off, suddenly hesitant.
Seto frowned, "But what, your highness?"
Yami blushed a little, squirming in place. "But she's so elaborate!" he blurted out, then quickly shut himself up, horrified.
Seto furrowed his brow, baffled. "But she's meant to be, your highness," he said slowly, gently.
Yami colored some more, looking away uncomfortably. "I apologize," he mumbled, "but I was hoping that I'd get to... you know... live like you do."
Seto was totally confused now. "Live like I do?" he repeated cautiously.
Yami looked up, his cheeks flushed and his eyes flashing with excitement. "Yes, like the Navy men! I think it'll be would be a wonderful experience! After all, I'm so dreadfully tired of stuffy rooms and what not. Besides," he shrugged, taking a deep breath, "Sophia will be staying on the Lady Eva. Lieutenant Giles informed me that it is highly dangerous to have two members of royalty on one ship. In case something happens, it would be like killing two birds with one stone, wouldn't you agree? Therefore," Yami declared, with all the pomp of a prince he could muster, "Lieutenant Giles advised that I stay with you on the H.M.S. Dragon for safety purposes." Finishing his announcement, the Prince grinned broadly, suddenly looking far too innocent for his own good.
Seto, desperately working his way through this sudden flood of words, caught the last phrase and nearly jumped out of his skin. Struggling to contain his bewilderment, he looked over Yami's shoulder and sent his lieutenant a dark, irritated glare. Andrew, hovering innocently just a few yards away, sent him a cheeky grin and then went off hurriedly, fearing the Commodore's wrath.
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'This was a mistake,' Seto thought desperately as he climbed up the boarding plank. He managed to keep a straight face, mind you, but inside he was a total and absolute mess.
The reasons for his state of mind were just behind him, a few feet away; Yami was climbing daintily upon the plank, followed closely by a scowling Mahado, who insisted on staying with the Prince to keep him 'safe' from 'those darn British gits' -- though Seto doubted he knew what a 'git' was. Bringing up the rear of their odd little parade line was Andrew and the remaining members of Seto's crew, most of the men having already boarded. Down on the dock, curious townspeople had lined up to see the ships off, a few waving excitedly, others whispering among themselves.
Their combined voices were giving Seto another terrible headache, but even so, he kept his chin high. He was returning to his ships and crew, after all. No sense in bogging himself down with worry now.
With as much flourish as he could muster in the current situation, he stepped proudly on to the gleaming deck of the Dragon, his heels clicking on the sleek wood. The change in him was instantaneous, his eyes lighting up with arctic fire, his shoulders straightening as if they had suddenly been freed of a terrible burden. Taking a deep breath of clean, salty air, Seto was delighted to find the familiar rolling of the ship under his feet, eagerly taking in the flapping of the huge sails above him and the sparkling of the sun's light off the elegant curves of the ship's structure. Unconsciously, the Commodore's hand brushed the rail of the deck, taking comfort in the strong, dark wood.
Feeling distinctly better already, Seto stood a little straighter to greet his crew, most of whom were already lined in neat rows along the deck, waiting to welcome him. Saluting him instantly in one collective moment, the men kept their expressions respectful and blank, though warm welcomes twinkled in their eyes.
Seto gave them an elegant nod in return, knowing that they could all tell that he was very happy to be back... or as happy as he could get, anyways.
Stepping up to introduce Yami and the purpose of their impromptu return, Andrew soon joined the ranks of the crewmembers already present, grinning as he gave a cheerful salute to his commanding officer. "Your orders, Commodore?"
Seto almost smiled. Feeling the familiar sense of duty and excitement thrum through him, he took a deep breath of refreshing oceanic air. When he finally spoke, his voice strong and clear as it echoed over the deck. "All hands on deck, men. We sail for England."
&&&&&&&&&&
Yami was antsy. He longed to go above deck, to see the sailors and the marines prepare to sail, but Mahado was already seasick, sprawled out on the guest bed in a most unbecoming manner. Sighing, the prince sat back down on his stool, rubbing soothing circles on his friend's back. Mahado had stripped off his gear and his jacket, but even so, he looked as if he was being choked by his remaining clothes.
"Aye, Mahado, you never told me you hated sailing so..." Yami murmured, feeling a flash of guilt in dragging his poor friend along.
Mahado gave a low groan as he flopped on his stomach, burying his face in his arms. "You wouldn't have let me come with you if I had," he muttered, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he fought back another wave of nausea that accompanied a shallow dip of the ship.
Yami frowned sympathetically and stood. "At least let me get you some medicine for your pain..."
Mahado looked up weakly, his eyes warm and twinkling with mirth. "Well well, normally it would be me taking care of you."
Yami laughed lightly as he turned, maneuvering through the tight quarters toward the door. "You spoil me, Mahado," he declared as he passed through the slender doorway, "At least let me do the same to you."
&&&&&&&&&&
Now, Yami wasn't entirely sure where to go or whom to go to for some medicine, but he found himself meandering through the small corridors of the ship in the general direction of the Commodore's chambers. Running into some dead ends and a few thoroughly confused marines, Yami eventually reached his destination with little trouble, though he had already forgotten how to return to Mahado's room.
Staring blankly for a moment at the intricately carved oak door, Yami was horrified to find himself blushing at the mere thought of being so near the Commodore's private quarters. Fighting back the wave of color on his cheeks, he hesitated briefly, then summoned his courage and timidly knocked on the door.
"Come in."
Yami shivered at the silken tone of the officer's voice but did as he was told, opening the door slowly and cautiously peeking his head inside.
The main room was Seto's office, a simple but elegant chamber so clean that it practically sparkled. Made of glowing chestnut oak like the rest of the ship, the chamber was modest in size and simply decorated with a bookcase in the corner, a paper-adorned desk in the middle of the floor, and a few dressers that probably held Seto's private belongings. The far wall, behind the desk, bore a small porthole with a breathtaking view of both the ocean and the horizon in all their glory. From beyond the glass, sunlight poured into the room, bathing the desk and its neatly-piled contents with a warm, sparkling glow. To the right, a large map hung on the wall, dotted meticulously with pins and markers; Yami realized with a thrill that it covered the entire Mediterranean, with England in one corner and Egypt in the other. Left of the map, on the other wall, hung various pistols, daggers and swords, all of them marvelously crafted and inlaid with precious metals.
It was against this wall that Seto stood, dressed now in a plainer uniform far less flamboyant than the one he had worn for his promotion and his French trip. His hat, too, had changed into a simpler version with a modest gold border; after scanning the room a bit, Yami found the feathered and gold-inlaid one forgotten on the desk.
Curious, the Prince stepped into the room, cocking his head.
The Commodore had yet to acknowledge him, and in an instant, it became clear why. He was carefully and slowly tying a sword to his belt, and after a moment, Yami noted that it was now a sparkling silver one, the gold one having taken its place on the wall.
"That's an impressive collection of weaponry you have there, Commodore," Yami said sweetly, drawing the man's gaze toward him.
Instantly noting Yami's presence, Seto turned and bowed quickly to greet him. He stood with a small sigh, shrugging as he turned back to admire the weapons hanging on his wall. "I wouldn't call collecting weapons my hobby, but yes, it is a nice collection." He turned back to Yami, a dry smirk on his pale lips. "They were gifts. Mainly from my promotions."
Yami was impressed, though he had to admit that standing with a man as intimidating as Seto next to a wall covered with pistols and swords was less than comforting. "I apologize if I'm bothering you, Commodore," he started respectfully, changing the subject quickly, "but I'm afraid Mahado has taken ill."
Seto's eyebrows arched, his lips curling upward with amusement. "Already?"
"...He's... rather sensitive," Yami managed sheepishly, flushing for more reasons than one. He looked up with the sweetest smile he could muster. "Do you have anything to help him?"
Seto pondered the request carefully. True, he wasn't happy with 'helping' that blasted blond musketeer, but then again, the pleading look in Yami's eyes was slowly but surely reducing him to mush. He shook himself out of it, nodding and keeping his expression neutral. "As you wish, your highness. I'll return shortly, if you would wait here."
Yami nodded, and with a few elegant strides, Seto was gone and out the door.
&&&&&&&&&&
It didn't take long for Yami to get restless... again. He was on a ship for only the second on his life, and by hell, he wanted to go exploring. Temporarily forgetting about Mahado, the prince found himself wandering about the Commodore's office with fascination, taking in every detail and wisely avoiding the closed door that no doubt led to Seto's bed chambers.
The Commodore was an amazingly neat person, to no one's surprise. Even the man's handwriting was precise and perfect, if the elegant script on the papers on the desk were any clue. Not being able to understand half the military jumble that laid about, however, Yami found himself drawn to the bookshelf. Knowing Seto, he excepted the books there to be massive volumes of the British Naval Code or something, probably collecting dirt and dust since the Commodore probably memorized the whole damn Code already.
Much to Yami's surprise and delight, there were less military books than they were pleasure ones, most of them in English but a few in Latin, French and Spanish as well. Unable to contain his curiosity, Yami reached out hesitantly and snagged a particularly big book, surprised to find it old and tattered in his fingers.
He pulled the book into his arms, gazing down at it with interest. "Dragons...?" he whispered in disbelief, tracing the elegant lines of a painted white dragon on the cover. Surprised, the boy opened the cover carefully and found the book to be quite fascinating, brimming with mythology, history and various pictures of dragons from all over the world.
"My my, you are an impatient one, are you not, my Prince?"
Yami jumped, shutting the book instantly when he spotted Seto sliding through the door, a small jar in his hand. The Prince blushed furiously, stuffing the book hastily back in its place. "C-Commodore, I'm so sorry!" he stammered, "You had such a wonderful book collection and I couldn't resist--"
"Wonderful book collection?" Seto echoed, paling. In a rare show of uneasiness, the man rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, only now noticing which book Yami had so hastily put back. "Oh... I see you've seen another one of my... erm... odd ways."
Yami, surprised at this rather cute display of shyness, found himself smiling broadly. "Do you like dragons, dear Commodore?" he purred innocently.
Much to his delight, the Commodore flushed a lovely shade of pink. The man heaved a heavy sigh, as if the world was coming to an end. "Alas," he said quietly, embarrassed, "'Tis a childhood passion, nothing more."
"Actually, they're quite fascinating," Yami agreed sweetly, storing Seto's words in the back of his mind. Who knew? Stiff British Naval officers weren't so damn stiff after all. The thought made his heart flutter.
To his surprise, after giving a small frown, Seto suddenly came over to him and set the jar on the table. Moving back, the man pulled open the hanging flap of his jacket and revealed the pistol and his sword tucked into his belt. With a swift, graceful movement, the Commodore pulled out his sword, the metal of the blade gleaming in the afternoon sun. The officer held the tip of the sword gingerly in one hand as he tipped the handle into his other palm, offering it to Yami. "This was my first sword... or rather, my first personal one besides the rickety one we used in training. It cost me more than two month's pay, but under Andrew's er... encouragement, I had it especially made by an old Asian artisan when we spent a few weeks training in Japan."
Yami stared at the hilt. Unlike the brass and gold-inlaid ones that hung on the wall, this sword was made almost entirely of silver, a tiny, majestic dragon painstakingly molded to the hand grip, each and every individual scale visible and shimmering. A few tiny, aquamarine gems emphasized the dragon's beauty, each flashing in the dim light. The Prince traced the graceful arches of the dragon's body with a slender finger, marveling at the slightly worn surface of the aged hilt. He ran his fingertip over the dragon's mighty head, suddenly realizing that the eye was inlaid with a sparkling blue jewel larger and darker than the rest. "...Diamond?" he whispered, questioningly.
Seto retrieved the sword, fondly and carefully re-sheathing it. "Sapphire, actually. I hadn't ordered it on the sword, but the old man thought it fit my eyes. He told me it was free," he hesitated, then went on awkwardly, "A 'gift', he called it." He shrugged, a tiny bit of awkwardness in his eyes.
Yami grinned broadly. "It suits you."
&&&&&&&&&&
Seto had duties on deck soon, but he took the time to escort Yami --who otherwise would have been hopelessly lost-- back to the twin guest quarters where Mahado laid. Yami found the action incredibly sweet, and after Seto bade him farewell, he found himself back by Mahado's side, half swooning and grinning like a fool.
"I knew it!" the musketeer accused instantly, "You fancy him!" He sputtered a bit at the strength of the medicine, wincing as he drank down the bitter herbal tea from the Commodore's stock. When he finished, the musketeer stretched out lazily on the cot, eyeing Yami with a sharp, piercing glare.
"Oh, he's not that bad," Yami said quickly, blushing. "You must admit that."
"I will admit nothing!" Mahado declared, and left it there before the medicine promptly knocked him out.
Rolling his eyes, Yami watched his friend sleep, letting his thoughts float back to a certain blue-eyed Commodore. 'He likes dragons...' he mused to himself, smiling faintly, 'That's so... so... cute.'
&&&&&&&&&&
Seto wasn't surprised to find the Prince out on deck a short while later, eyes wide with wonder when he found them already out on the open sea. Ignoring the boy for the moment, Seto found himself marching about deck, snapping orders in rapid succession as his crew rushed to do his bidding. Nodding occasionally, he was quite pleased at the efficiency and speed at which his men worked. It was nice to see something worthwhile being done.
The entire fleet, with the H.M.S. Dragon leading and the Lady Eva protectively flanked by the other three, had left the port in record time, flapping sails filled with benign winds, British flags waving proudly at the top of the masts. It wasn't long before land fell from view and they were simply five ships alone on a vast and sparkling ocean.
Seto loved it all. He was thrilled at the sight of his men working away, of the gleaming deck, of the entire mighty fleet sailing on an empty blanket of blue and gold. This was all exactly as he remembered; the rocking of the deck under him, the sting of salty water spraying on board, the distinct chill in the ocean wind clawing at his cheeks.
Yami noticed this instantly. On land, the Commodore was expressionless at best, almost seemingly bored with life in general. Here, however, on the sea, there was arctic fire in the officer's eyes and an almost childish glow to his cheeks. The man was born to sail. He lived to sail. It was as obvious as the sun was in the sky.
"A glorious day, isn't it, your highness?" asked Andrew, coming up beside Yami and nearly startling the boy out of his skin. "Perfect for sailing, if I do say so myself."
Calming himself instantly, Yami drew his gaze away from the Commodore and toward the lieutenant at his side. He nodded, looking around in awe at the glowing ocean. "Aye," he breathed, "I've never seen a sight so beautiful."
They stood side by side at the edge of the deck, relishing the quiet for a moment as Seto's men scrambled about around them.
"He likes Shakespeare, you know," Andrew said suddenly, turning his face toward Yami. His eyes twinkled mischievously before he turned and left, greeting a few fellow marines down the side of the ship.
Baffled, Yami blinked, then flushed. 'He must have heard...' "...S-Shakespeare?" he echoed shyly. Indeed, Shakespeare?!
Yami looked up at Seto, who was now silent, standing proudly above them at the helm of the ship. The Prince cocked his head at the handsome man, who thankfully wasn't looking at him. 'SHAKESPEARE,' he repeated silently. 'The god of hopeless romantics.' Yami giggled to himself as he continued to eye the handsome man above him. The officer hardly seemed like the type to read sappy romances like Romeo and Juliet, but who knew? The Commodore was full of surprises.
Yami's thoughts, however, were abruptly interrupted by an alarmed cry from high above, in the crow's nest.
"Commodore! Pirates!"
&&&&&&&&&&
AN: Er, yeah. -sheepish grin- Yeah, this is kind of a stupid chapter now that I think about it. Pretty pointless, except you get introduced to Seto's obsession with his ships and his dragons. -sweatdrop- The first half of that chapter was SO much harder to write than the second half, which went by like a breeze. -scratches head- I should add more stuff, really. I'm running low on descriptive juice, I'm afraid, and I've grown downright lazy with some parts of the story, as you can probably tell... Yeah, anyways, sorry that I didn't get them together. This chapter was more of a transition chapter (nasty cliffie, wouldn't you agree? :-p) into the whole adventure part of the story. I tried to make it seem as if Yami and Seto are falling more in love, but I'm not sure if that effect is working... I SWEAR, I'm not purposely trying to draw this story out. I'm probably boring the hell out of everything, and I apologize. -sniffle- Stick with me here, people!
NEXT CHAPTER THEY'LL GET TOGETHER AND ALSO KICK SOME PIRATE BUTT! YAY! -cheers-
As my conductor says, a review would be "special". XD PRETTY PLEEEEASE?!