Well, here's the "heaviest" chapter in the story, I guess.

I think you might enjoy this. ;)

This is the second-to-last chapter, so I do think I should get to thinking of my next story. Hmm...

Warning: Naughty Link and Zelda. Meh, like that's gonna stop you.

I just love Link acting subconsciously, the poor guy. Oh, and for those who are as annoyed by Link's "propriety" as I am, this chapter is a direct attack to all his resolve. I just love doing that. He's such an innocent do-gooder sometimes, but clearly he's gotta have needs. And forcing him out of his mind is lots, lots of fun. You should try it.

Heh!

Without further delay,

Privateer
Part 4: Upsetting Restrictions
By CM

The lady ought to have expected the captain Link Forster to be upset with her. She had, after all, disobeyed his suggestions within the hour of her hearing them. Indeed, although Link Forster hadn't raised his voice, frustration radiated from his tense shoulders like heat.

If, however, she had known he would be upset enough to lock her in his quarters, with him still inside no less, she'd have taken a daring leap off the starboard.

What was this her Uncle had said? That the privateer-captain would not be dishonourable with her? The lady Zelda Harnian observed the man pacing before her in obvious unsettlement, and wished to thrust the picture in her Uncle's near-blind face.

What, after all, could possibly be more dishonourable than a disgruntled, sinfully handsome, half-bare man pacing barefoot around an unkempt bed on which a dainty lady sat?

Well, the lady considered, averting her eyes from the young privateer's toned chest, she would not be particularly upset for herself, but without doubt, one spread word of this and her reputation would be ruined in the New World as well. Why, a proper lady was not, by any means, supposed to be familiar with the male species at all, and therefore perish the thought of seeing bare, let alone bedding any said male.

She had not spoken out in outrage when he'd buttoned-down his vest, then removed it. She'd even managed to hold in her near-inaudible squeak of surprise when he'd unbuttoned his large undershirt and left it wide enough for her not to miss the beckoning expanse of hard stomach just above his waistband.

Oh, he'd done all this without truly thinking, clearly. He'd been muttering to himself the whole time, pacing back and forth, to and fro, mumbling incoherent threats towards the 'sea rat' he held prisoner in the ship's hold and running his hand through his unruly, fetching blonde hair. He'd even seemed to forget the Lady Zelda Harnian's presence, a shocking feat, considering that not even fifteen short minutes ago he'd shoved her none-too-gently down on his-formerly-hers-formerly-his bed in the quarters she'd first been appointed.

As she slowly grew impatient with Link Forster's angry antics, the lady chose to break the semi-silence. She'd grown accustomed to his provocative appearance, and so her voice did not quiver when she spoke and saw him turn to face her in mild surprise and annoyance.

"You said that none remained of the Lune Empress' crew," she said accusingly.

He seemed startled by her open discomfiture, and sighed.

In truth, Link Forster was at a loss of what to do. The lady had clearly disregarded his wiser suggestions and gone for a meeting with Knil Drake that she could have sorely regretted. He was unsure of what had caused the lady to grow so bold.

Or perhaps she had always been bold, and she had simply also been haughty about it. This time, however, she looked openly upset with him, but not condescendingly so.

Link Forster, though he had asked her to be this way in the beginning, also found that with her arrogance stripped away, the lady Zelda Harnian was even more attractive than before, and therefore had shortened his fuse and reduced him to a jealous mass of female-aware nerves.

Was there anyone but himself to blame really? He was the one who had her locked in here with him, and there she sat on his bed, light blue eyes glancing his way constantly, collar line lower than he'd remembered on her pale chest, and the memory of those long, white legs under the thick skirts, uncovered by that lecherous Knil Drake, flashed through his mind.

Was it therefore any surprise that the young privateer-captain, for all he thought holy, could not detach his mind from her bewitching appearance and her rapidly improving piquant temper?

Curse women, and curse Knil Drake all the more. Had the wretch not been so keen on understanding the lady's desires, Link Forster would not have been made aware of her numerous tempting features.

Like those legs, which came to his mind again, as though to taunt him and remind him that Knil Drake, that bastard, had had a soft taste of her when he, for the sake of being proper, had not.

Another question that came to his mind regarded his subsequent actions. In taking the trembling, shaken lady back to his ―well, her which were actually his― quarters, and in giving her a push so that she could sit on his-her-his bed, he'd been made aware that she was supple in some areas which his male mind had most certainly noticed but ignored ―for bloody propriety's sake― until then.

He was glad, in a way, that he shared not close quarters with her at all times. She'd have long made mortifying discoveries regarding his nights and dreams.

And so, when that perfect but upsetting voice of hers spoke and broke his train of thought, having clearly recovered from her earlier fright, he realized that he'd unconsciously unbuttoned his shirt, and that she now had a clear view of him. How very sticky, considering that he'd thought of seducing her for himself ever since that first day in the Lord Mayor's mansion and that subconsciously his body had partially gone through the motions whilst he was deep in thought.

Yet, blessed be the wicked creature, she had not questioned his respect for her long-protected eyes, but rather wondered at his tale.

"I did not lie," he said after a short pause, "when I said that none remain of the Lune's crew. Neither Drake nor I were officers or seamen aboard it. Not officially so. And my young mind was deemed too affected for a proper trial witness. They would not hear me, and for all it was worth, it didn't matter. The Lune was not from the home nation."

The lady stared at the privateer-captain's guarded expression. He'd answered her truthfully, but she guessed a sharp, pained undertone and bitterness at the turn of his fate.

"How…" She slowly started, "did you escape the wreckage?"

Link Forster sighed again, leaning back against the wall. He sought a way to button his shirt again without looking suspicious. To distract her, he crossed his arms and answered, "I was left to drift on pieces of the wreckage and washed up on shore. I don't know how long I laid there, but soon enough a man by the name of Kafei Dotour found me."

"I've never heard of him," the lady said, waiting for Link Forster to finish the tale Knil Drake had been unable to.

Link Forster looked at the young beauty sitting on his bed, contemplating the contrast between their first fiery encounters and their current soft, complementary conversation.

How the lady had come around to being this politely gentle rather than furiously withdrawn eluded him. He was loath to admit it only made her more attractive, more accessible, if possible. Her haughty rebuttals had been a tempting challenge, but this quiet, open kindness made her seem pure and he'd have sought solace in her without hesitation, if she hadn't still that spark of burning wit glowing in her eyes that would hurt if he dared approach her.

Never mind that flame that still burned behind a tamed mask. It made her glow.

"Kafei Dotour," the captain-privateer sighed, "was an officer for the home nation. Over all, the man was still young, experienced like two, he was amused easily, angered as easily, and he was the family I needed. He was the one who approved me for office, and he recommended my naming to the position of training warship captain."

Link Forster smiled in remembrance. "In my first years under his wing, before I was named to any position or even employed, he kept watch over me. He was a flame that cauterized wounds. I took my first drink of ale with him, and he watched over me like a father, but toyed with my temper like a brother. He tried to pay me a whore for the night of my sixteenth birth day, but I was too drunk for anything."

The privateer shot a glance to the lady, whose only reaction had been to raise a brow. With a somewhat vexing grin, the young officer said, "Worry not, Milady. My bettering looks ensured I caught some experience by-and-by."

The lady shot him a flat, scathing look, but he noted the corner of her lip was inexorably drawn upward, and she said, "I never once worried for your hidden talents, Captain, convinced as I was that would never have to experience them."

"Shame," the blonde privateer smiled, softly, then admitted, "My first impression of you was that of a delightful mistress."

She looked vaguely shocked, her voice losing some of its uptight dignity as she humouredly asked, "Oh? Mistress to whom, Captain?"

Recalling that he'd at first thought the woman to be the Lord Mayor's mistress or wife, and his consideration that he'd have made a better lover than the old man, Link Forster cleared his throat and laughed to himself. The lady heard his self-amused chuckle, and asked, her voice rising in indignation, "Captain! How could you think—I? … My Uncle, wasn't it? Oh, really!"

"How was I to know?" He asked, now laughing without much restraint, and his charming laughter forced a thin, held-back smile from her rose lips. "A beautiful, vital young woman surrounded by countless maids, dressed in the city's greatest fineries, walking in the grandiose mansion of the Lord Mayor, whose wife was not in town, looking so proper and hiding such a bright passion—was it really so far fetched? You were too beautiful to be blood related to the old, cruel scrooge, in my opinion."

Her eyes grew searching and somewhat tender. He found himself pinned under that gaze and he felt, suddenly, that if she dared ask him to throw himself overboard, or to disrobe himself entirely before his crew, he'd be inebriated enough to do her bidding.

Fortunately for his health and his reputation, she only asked, "Did you truly think that?"

Link Forster gazed at her, and said, "If I should be honest with you, milady, I was subjected to many thoughts concerning you and your acquaintances. As per the decision of your Uncle's, I saw your despair, and did not blame you once, though I was glad to take such a vision aboard my ship. I apologize for not keeping you away from Drake, as your Uncle demanded."

She stood, and his shoulders tensed. She did not seem to notice. With a few steps in his direction, she came to stand before him, as close as all those times when he'd have wished nothing more than to push her back onto his bed and make her sigh.

"Captain," she started, and the way she spoke his title sounded like a purr.

Link Forster, with a fatal drop of his heart into the pit of his rapidly heating stomach, knew her next words would be the end of him. He'd have to have been a complete fool not to know. How often should a woman purr his name to obtain his obedience, after all, when a mere look at her parted, moist lips was enough to weaken him? Her obvious use of her charms on him could not go unnoticed, much less be ignored.

She said, "Marth d'Altea's touch was pleasant and made me long. Knil Drake's lips were near scalding and made me breathless. They both chose to love and seduce me on their own accord, without much restraint." Her finger traced a soft path down the young captain's jaw line. "They simply took what they wished for." Her lips stretched into a minuscule smile. "They were both men, through and through, both made of the material of eternal lovers. Though one was deemed refined and the other coarse, I have had a taste of their respective hands, captain, against the will of my Uncle."

"He told me to protect you from such things," the privateer-captain insisted weakly with a pained, ragged breath. "He wanted to pay me for the service, but I told him I needn't be bought."

"Captain," she said, her breath heated against his collarbone. Curses. He'd forgotten to button his shirt, and now the finger she'd been trailing on his jaw had fallen to his stomach, in a sinuous, sensuous drag, making him tense and arousing lust with every nerve she brushed. "My Uncle did not stop me, and he was unable, even by sending me away, to keep me bound."

"Milady—" The captain-privateer began, but she slipped a pale, light hand under his shirt in his back, pulling herself close to him, and effectively silencing him.

"You have held back, captain," she said, "but so have I. A woman is not so helpless that she does not know what to elicit in a man. I must admit, if you first inspired me disinterest and wariness, I have nevertheless come to an understanding."

Her fingers ran over his lower spine, and he could not believe the woman he'd rescued from the lecherous Knil Drake was quite so capable with her hands. If anything, he ought to congratulate Marth d'Altea, the ass, for awakening this vixen.

Link Forster considered his options, and thought vaguely—she was pushing his shirt off his shoulders and the motion of her hands was rather distracting—that her every action indicated she desired him, that he was enough of a man to be aroused by this, but also that he could not bed this woman merely for the leisure of it.

Though it seared him to admit it, a single word of this spread would ruin her, degrade him, and push them both to the lowest ranks of society. The blatant change this would bring along would not, by any means, be justified by love or a desire to be alongside one another no matter the consequence.

Link Forster was not a fool. The lady was attracted to him, as he to her, by appearances alone. Yes, appearances alone. He could find a vast number of women who would be willing to pleasure him thus, as she could find any number of suitors and lovers to replace him. They could do all this, but not now, and not together.

He wanted to tell her all this. He wanted to tell her she would find another man, a husband perhaps. He sought the words to say he was only attracted to her pale skin, not to the beating heart beneath it.

But, for all his resolve, experience, propriety, awareness, intelligence and common sense, the privateer captain Link Forster did not find the words, much less speak them, as she had just now pressed her lips to his, having pulled his head down with a free hand. His shirt, against his better judgement, had been discarded and lay behind him, pushed against the wall.

Her lips, by all the pagan gods and goddesses, by all that was holy and for the love of all that was not, sent fire in his blood, made him desire her the way a starving man seeks nourishment. He wished now he had not allowed her this brutal awakening, as it made him realize all his previous musings had been erroneous.

Cursed be she, bewitching him like no other woman before her, like no other would. Cursed be she! She drove him to distraction!

"My understanding," she declared factually with that impossibly controlled tone still, pulling her lips from his, leaving a frustratingly weak taste of her lingering in his mouth, "captain Forster, is that I desire you more than I have ever desired a man."

By the gods, cursed be she, he thought in despair as he pulled her to him and violently pressed his parched mouth to hers.

He wanted her, had wanted her since the moment he'd laid eyes on her, and he wanted more than those long legs around him. He wanted her, all of her, heart and mind, soul and spirit, he wanted her there forevermore, almost as much as he wanted to make love to her this instant.

By God!

Ripping himself away from her, he let out a loud curse, one that, even in light of the situation, brought a blush to her cheeks. He ran a trembling hand through his hair, feeling his whole body quake in barely held desire, eyes wide and stunned, and he stared her through.

The knowledge that he could have her, that she wanted him to, and that the risk of being discovered was infinitely low only made his sudden stop more heart wrenching. The whole world could have guessed his body was willing, and that his mind was more than ready.

By hell, it wasn't propriety holding him back for once!

He was beginning to feel light-headed, and his body continued to promise, incessantly, painfully, that she was the only remedy to his situation.

Summoning all his breath, all his resolve, the most of which had melted the instant she'd kissed him, he forced out the most agonizing words he'd ever had to pronounce in all his life: "Milady, you are tired. We shall speak in the morn."

Then, before she could break all his leftover resolution, he struggled to unlock the door behind him and hurried out, cursing his foolishness all the way.

"Have you ever loved before, captain?"

He reached his under-deck room, feeling feverishly hot.

"Never, my lady."

He slammed the door behind him, pushed the lock closed, and leaned against it, lungs bursting for air, as though he'd been drowning.

"Can men love, captain?"

Bringing a trembling hand to his face, the blonde captain-privateer let out a loud, ragged, anguished breath between his fingers.

"I'm afraid they can, the poor saps. But only when their time comes."

By God, the privateer nearly screamed. Though illogical, nonsensical, futureless, probably unrequited, and completely illegal, his accursed time had come, and it clawed at his chest, howling for freedom.

Though the lady Zelda Harnian had endured it with Marth d'Altea, Link Forster had distressingly understood that, as he had tried to explain without success to the object of his anguish, a person in love could not painlessly bed another in lust.

A bit vaguely, he realized he'd forgotten his shirt at the lady's feet.

They did speak the next morning.

The conversation was superficial, frustrating, and left them both dully upset. They had both chucked their mindless actions to a moment of thoughtlessness, one that meant strictly nothing, and Zelda Harnian more or less admitted to the captain-privateer, in a wording that would cause him to torment himself for his stupidity, that she had desired company and been frustrated by Knil Drake, who had been frightening and so not quite satisfactory.

Link Forster, carefully blank, had acknowledged her, had said he understood, even, although his blood pulsed white with heat when she was in the near vicinity, which, considering their location, was almost always.

As a final word, he'd promised her he'd take her to her new home as swiftly as possible. They were less than a week away from shore and the New World. He'd assured her the new continent was not so barbaric that she'd be displaced. The people were different, more libertarian, less uptight, perhaps, but still kept universal values close to heart. She'd be welcomed as a refugee of fate rather than shunned as a whore of poor value.

There were eligible parties there for her to find, he'd promised, and she'd smiled at his words, ever so faintly, but not quite convinced.

The rest of the week passed, like the ones before Knil Drake, with even less contact between the two, if so possible. The lady remained inside the cabin, coming out only to accept a bucket of seawater to cleanse herself with now and then.

Link Forster, on his part, had turned to a near automaton, functioning from early to late, always poring over written works or directing the crew, making himself busy, tired, and therefore unable to attend to the lady, who was from this incapable of haunting his days, and so haunted his nights.

They found land two days before reaching destination and followed the coastline towards Orley. Link Forster was about ready to crumble from restless sleep and active hours. As for the lady Zelda Harnian, she was, truth be told, terrified of joining her aunt on the plantation.

Orley, a striving city on the new continent, under the tutelage of the home nation, relied on agriculture, trade and commerce, artistry, and had built itself a small capitol, in which the leaders met for political debates. If arguments with the rapidly disappearing natives occurred, they were easily solved with costless trades. The place itself was bustling, lively, and gave off a somewhat cheerful and welcoming atmosphere.

Though the lady Zelda Harnian was unused to public familiarity, a feeling more than a treatment, she found it wasn't so unpleasant. She could see where Link Forster had taken his charm.

Ah, but that was one of her current issues. If she allowed herself to let her thoughts drift, they unconditionally returned to the feel of his lips on hers, and then explored what could have been, to her everlasting embarrassment.

What had she been thinking?

She considered her folly with a deep breath of new air, and was surprised when a familiar and reassuring voice spoke beside her.

"What are your thoughts, milady?"

Link Forster stood beside her rigidly, dark circles imperceptibly lining his eyes, staring at the bustling harbour they were about to dock in. The HMS Medallion was to stay until they restocked, and would then return to privateering. The captured HMS Hammer was roughly a day behind them, and would be turned over to the authorities. She had heard as much from Anju, who had resumed bringing the lady her meals after Link Forster had become too busy to do it himself, as he'd taken to after the incident with the Hammer.

The privateer had come to converse with the lady, and he could not explain it to himself, as her very presence made his mind sizzle and boil. Illusions of her tempting skin and lips had imprinted themselves into his mind's eye, persistent, unnerving, reminding him of what he'd forbidden himself.

If only he hadn't allowed the soft tendrils of deep affection to wrap themselves around his heart, if only he'd taken what she had offered, he'd not be suffering from this near madness.

Turning his head stubbornly from her exquisite face, the captain-privateer attempted to focus merely on their mindless conversation.

The lady took in the captain's handsome profile, and then turned to look at the unknown city. She let out a sad breath.

"I can't say I'm very thrilled to live for an unknown amount of time with my hag of an aunt."

He found nothing to say in response. The lady felt the silence reverberate in her entrails.

Less than an hour later, the Medallion was fully docked and Zelda Harnian stood on the stone wharf. The lady had packed her few belongings, and a crewman had brought the trunk up for her, descending to the bustling, packed dock. She looked around, unsure of what to do. Link Forster joined her, and she looked at him helplessly.

"I wasn't told how to get to my aunt's estate."

Link Forster, feeling a helpless surge of protectiveness bubbling in his chest, carefully said, "Surely she'll have sent a carriage of some sort for you. Leave your trunk here. I'll come with you to see if perhaps he'll have stationed himself away from all the noise."

This gave way to an awkward, silent walk down the dock and towards the city. The pavement wasn't as used as in the home nation. The lady took notice of this, as her eyes were stubbornly turned towards the ground. The captain-privateer did not offer his arm, though she doubted she'd have taken it.

She had not felt slighted by his untimely escape, but had been left to desire him. Shame on her, yes. She was willing to admit the captain was one of the most handsome men she had ever met, most upsetting, most interesting, and definitely the first of the few men she had encountered to deny her anything, and this after pressing such a passionate and insistent kiss to her lips.

Why, she felt more strongly for the captain than she had for Marth, who had been a distracting lover, but an impossible match.

Upon detaching herself from the train of her thoughts, which had begun to drift towards the dream-like waters of matrimony, the lady Zelda Harnian came to the conclusion that carriages were not as common in the cities of the new world as in the home nation. In fact, there was none in sight.

Everyone, from the peasants to the nobles, walked on the street, using the two legs they were born with.

The lady smiled. She was beginning to like this place.

They passed by a stone building identified as the post office. Her opinion of the people was swayed when she noted a group of silly looking girls eyeing her handsome blonde escort.

The lady was not possessive in the least. She'd taken hold of the young privateer's arm to take in the sights and not lose him in the crowd, she decided. The girls smiled at her knowingly, but did not quit their sightseeing. Well, the lady reasoned, at the very least the people here had taste.

If she'd known what her motion had done to the privateer-captain, however, perhaps she'd have smiled back.

Link Forster felt temptation seep into his already boiling blood when he felt her take hold of him, so daintily. Images and dreams mingled in his mind. He felt the raving edge of lunacy almost grip him.

She drove him to insanity, by God.

Unawares, the lady was contemplating the best way to begin a civil conversation when a large stagecoach passed them by. She turned to look at it, wondering if perhaps this was her aunt's. Her companion turned as well, squinting in the sunlight.

The stagecoach continued for barely a few seconds before stopping carefully. The door opened, and out poked the last person the lady had ever expected to encounter.

The young woman in the coach turned back to look at the sidewalk on which Zelda Harnian and Link Forster were strolling, her hand still holding onto the door of the stage. Her bright red hair shone in the sunlight, and her large blue eyes looked surprised. Her skin was sun-touched, as though she had put some country work on her frame, but she looked glowingly healthy. In comparison, Zelda Harnian felt pale and sickly.

"Zelda!" The young redhead exclaimed, just as surprised as the woman she had called upon.

Her face breaking into a heartfelt smile, the lady hurried to greet her friend, and was so strongly embraced that she wondered where Malon London had found the strength she boasted.

"Oh! Zellie! Look at you!" The young woman said. "Oh, it's been so long! I haven't seen you since I was sent here. I heard you were supposed to—What exactly are you doing here?" She suddenly asked, as an afterthought, looking at her friend suspiciously but with warmth.

Zelda Harnian sighed then carefully said, "I daresay you rubbed off of me before you left, Malon."

The redhead's face was incomprehensive, then her eyes widened. "Oh! Oh! Oh my! Really?" Her shock became snide. "With whom, dare I ask?"

The lady grew faintly pink. "Marth d'Altea," she admitted, lowly, though Malon London did not miss a word.

"Marth d'Altea!" She squealed. "The one betrothed since what seems like forever! Oh, Zelda! You shameless vixen!" This was said with such affection and accompanied by such a happy embrace that Zelda Harnian was unable to be insulted.

Standing slightly to the side, feeling left out, Link Forster wondered if he ought to say goodbye. Surely, this Malon London would ensure that the lady would get home safe.

He struggled to ignore the uncanny pain that shot through him at the thought of having desired a woman he'd never get.

Before he could motion for a polite but painful leave-taking, however, Malon London took notice of him. She looked him up and down, a motion that would have extremely satisfied him, considering her beauty, a mere two weeks ago, but that was now completely unimportant, as the one woman who ought to have looked at him thus seemingly did so only out of lust, and not for love.

"And just who might you be, kind sir?" She asked, with the teasing tone he was starting to guess was her habitual tone.

Zelda Harnian turned back to look at him and smiled faintly. "This is Captain Link Forster. He is the one who took me here."

"Really? Just that?" Malon London turned to smile at her friend. "And nothing else?"

The implication of her voice did not go unnoticed, but Zelda Harnian smiled through her flush. "Nothing that ought to excite you, Malon."

Though both travellers knew this was a lie, it seemed to satisfy—or, rather, disappoint—the redhead.

"A pity. I know I wouldn't have missed the chance." She shot Link Forster a kindred smile, which meant friendliness and an acknowledgment without designs of his obvious good looks. Malon London may have been a free spirit and may have enjoyed the male sex, but she knew the eyes of men in love, and so knew which ones not to approach.

"Malon," Zelda Harnian said, eager to detract the conversation from Link Forster's blatant and entirely too distracting good looks, "I was looking for a way to get to my aunt's estate—"

Malon London, tearing her eyes from Link Forster's appealing blonde hair, suddenly said, "Yes! Oh, I was just on my way to see if your ship had arrived! I'm here especially for that!"

Zelda Harnian frowned. "My aunt asked you to bring me to her estate?"

Malon London laughed. "No, no. You won't have to deal with the old hag. The moment I heard about you visiting here, I called upon her and suggested you stay with me. You'll be probably upset to hear she was very happy not to have you near at hand, but on the upside, we'll be living on my elder sister and her husband's ranch! Do you remember Cremia at all?"

Though Zelda Harnian nodded and smiled, her head swam in relief. She shot Link Forster a happy smile, and he smiled softly back, though she saw it did not reach his eyes. Nothing ever reached his eyes anymore, and it worried her somewhat.

"… You really ought to see the horses. There's a young mare, I called her Epona…"

"Malon," Zelda Harnian said, interrupting her friend, who sent her a happy but quizzical look, "Could you wait right here? The captain and I will retrieve my trunk, and then you can proceed to tell me all about your—well, Cremia's—ranch."

Malon London smiled, understanding. "Of course. I'll be right here. Don't be too long, though. We're not supposed to stay here eternally."

With a last hug, Zelda Harnian hurried to catch up with Link Forster, who had saluted the redheaded lady with a polite nod, then left to return to the dock. Malon London sighed, gazing at them, then glanced upwards at the stage driver, who smiled down at her knowingly.

The silence that hung between the lady and the privateer-captain was heavier on their way back than it had been on their walk out. This time a sort of dull acceptance hung heavy over the privateer, one that the lady could not miss. When they reached the trunk, that hadn't moved from its previous spot, they paused.

The captain made no motion to begin, and so the lady said, "Captain."

This got his attention, though he did not react in any particular or remarkable way.

Zelda Harnian said, earnestly, "I understand you and I have had and shared experiences that were not all pleasant." He said nothing, and she took it as a sign to continue. "However…"

She hesitated, unsure of how to word her thoughts. She wanted to just tell him that his kisses had left her numb and wanton, had filled her with a desire no other man had ever elicited from her. She wanted to express how much his unpredictable humour and manners made him unbelievably attractive in her eyes.

"However…" She was at a loss, unsure of where to begin. With a sigh, she said, with all the sincerity she could muster, "I believe I am very much in lo—"

"Milady," the captain suddenly said, lifting a hand to silence her, and she raised her eyes to his. Really, but he was impossibly tall. How unnerving. She despised feeling small and not quite as strong as he.

"Yes?" She wished dearly that her tone hadn't been quite so hopeful.

"Milady, you drive me to insanity."

If the lady had expected a polite goodbye, a quiet rebuttal regarding her waste of both their times, or perhaps even a minuscule admittance that he felt some lust for her, certainly this was a long way from expectation.

"I beg your pardon?" She asked, slightly dumbfounded.

The captain-privateer looked at her, his eyes now alight with something unreadable. He ran a hand through his hair, as he often did, and said, "You drive me mad, Milady. Completely, utterly raving mad!"

This caused her to blink, her face troubled. He looked someone prone to fury then, as though he would rip his hair out in frustration. She started a defensive apology, hurriedly, as though to prevent a scene, "Well, certainly, captain, this was not my—"

"Stop that!"

She blinked, feeling irked, somewhat. "Stop what, captain?"

"This! No, that! Calling me captain! Apologizing! Talking! You send me into the grip of insanity every time you speak!"

His outburst had drawn the attention of a good number of passer-bys, as well as the giddy excitement of Malon London, who was not making much effort to be dignified.

She did not know what to respond, and so watched him as he moved a step towards her, looking vaguely out of his mind. With a surprisingly soft grip, however, he took her hand and said, fervently, feverishly, "Zelda Harnian, for all your flaws and all your virtues, you drive me completely and entirely insane. You have since the very first day!"

"Perhaps your ought to consult a doctor—"

"It isn't a doctor that I need, Zelda," he said, for the first time using her first name alone, and she found it was a delightful sound to her ears, "It's you!"

He said this so bluntly, with such fervour, then suddenly leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, right there, on the dock, with a crowd of onlookers.

Kissing before a crowd who, when the captain's crew began whooping, loudly applauded. And, why! This New World knew nothing of impropriety, then?

In spite of the scandalous scene, the lady found herself smiling against the captain's mouth. He sensed it, and moved just far enough to whisper, in time with her, a desperate confession, accompanied by a tame smile.

"Has it ever occurred to you, Link Forster," she breathed teasingly, "that you have no sense of propriety?"

He laughed, thinking that really, if one put abstraction on her own less than proper behaviour, her standards were too high for him to meet. "Blame it on my line of work."

Then, happily, the kissing resumed.

For those who are wondering what in the world happened to Knil Drake, stay tuned. As I mentionned earlier, there's a last chapter planned before this story is definitely overwith.

Also, for those who read and don't review, I'd still like to have your general opinion in the end. Take a minute. I accept anonymous reviews without problem. :)

Anyhow, stick around for the conclusion!

Review if you want to make me a happy person!

Love,
CM