Chapter 10
Lessons
The next day came, and it turned out to be more interesting than Yalene had thought. Currently, she and her sisters-in-chains were tasked to prepare a rather unusual, elaborate dinner for the captain in his quarters. That in itself was a little unusual, as he habitually dined in the officer's mess, and if he had his dinner in his cabin, he was often joined by Iruvan. This time, however, he had asked for an elaborate dinner served in several courses and smaller portions to be all laid out at his table at once, including several plates, cups and cutlery.
Yalene still hadn't left the confinements of the hold and the captain's quarters, but she was involved in lighting lanterns and creating a comfortable atmosphere for what was presumably meant to be a fancy dinner for one. She was assisted by Katharina, who transported the food out of the kitchen, and Lavinia, who had volunteered. Usually, Yalene avoided Katharina as a fellow Imperial for fear that they could slip into mannerisms and quirks that were exclusive to the Empire.
She needn't have bothered. While Katharina was an unfailingly friendly, jolly woman, she was not observant. Any hint of humanity within Yalene had and would have gone right over her head. Katharina also happened to be a hard-working and helpful woman, which made her help in arranging this dinner immeasurable. Normally, the trio would round that dinner table off now to arrange the food plates in a more appetizing and pleasing manner, but instead, they were glued to the window, mouths agape.
Lavinia's was clearly in shock and awe, and it took her a while before she found her speech again. "We are inside a giant ship?"
Without missing a beat, Yalene translated that question to Katharina, who was equally stunned by the sight. One couldn't blame them. A Black Ark of the Druchii was a gargantuan monstrosity of a ship, dwarfing even the most advanced swimming fortresses that the Bretonnians were prone to build. The crew numbered in the thousands, and it was capable of opening parts of the outside hull that led to grotto-like ports. The outside hull was then closed, leaving those ships in the bowels of the Black Ark, illuminated by green witchlight and with the knowledge that somewhere within the depths of this massive swimming structure, there were sea monsters close. This was a living ship, with seawater being its lifeblood, magic its heartbeat, and cruelty its soul. It was also security, a safe haven in which the little Druchii flotilla could do their much-needed repairs.
"And I thought that some galleys were large. I had no idea." Lavinia noted, still in unrestrained awe. "But this … how do these things even float?"
"With magic." Yalene simply answered evenly.
"Unbelievable. To think that you people have several of these things … how come you haven't conquered the world yet? It would take a fleet to take such a thing down with rapid cannon fire even in this … port-thing." Lavinia shook her head. "Thousands of crew, you say? How do you even feed a crew that large? How do you navigate this?"
These were all questions that Yalene might have been able to answer if she had been a Druchii scholar, but alas, she was not. She was just as astounded as Lavinia, looking at the interior and eerie witchlight, the sheer hint of the size of this ship with the same kind of wonder one would a dragon with beautiful glittering scales burning down a city and tearing its inhabitants apart. It was bizarre, beautiful, magnificent and terrible at the same time to behold.
"I wish I knew the answer … " Yalene didn't finish the sentence, as she was determined to at least show more restraint and poise than the two other women. So she straightened her shoulders, and started to translate the gist of the conversation into Druhir for Katharina. But the Imperial woman just waved her hand in a soothing manner.
"It's all good.", she merely said, and somehow, Yalene was thankful for this. Like Agnés, it was hard not to like Katharina. One could sense that her amiable demeanour was genuine, as was her obvious puppy-eyed love and unquestioning devotion for her master. It was not surprising that he favoured her; Katharina possessed a rubenesque figure, bright, blue eyes and pretty, gentle features. But her most striking physical quality was her intensely curled, long hair coloured in the brightest ginger that Yalene had ever seen in her life. Her skin was so pale and freckled, which only accentuated her natural beauty. She was also pleasantly accepting towards the language barriers in the hold and never demanded a translation or was even offended by garbled word salads that sometimes happened with so many languages among a group. In fact, Katharina never felt offended, and had even expressed that she did not feel left out when short conversations in other languages were held with her present. Still, her reassurances didn't keep Yalene from trying.
"I've heard about this part of the sea. It is a strange one." Lavinia noted in an almost dreamy tone. "The sailors whisper to each other that there is always fog around here, and whenever you enter it, there is not telling if you ever get out … and if you do, where."
Yalene nodded, as she had heard about the same about this region and was eager to share her tales and rumors. "There are also stories about ghost ships and faraway voices and cries in the air. I wonder if these stories are because the Dark Elves travel these waters, or if they tell themselves the same horror stories." After a small, pensive pause, she continued. "In ancient times, the world was said to be a lush jungle, with bizarre gigantic birds and dragons roaming the sky freely. I have heard that in this region, there used to be an underwater kingdom under these waves. The ocean has receded, the ruins of the once-proud kingdom have crumbled and the spirits of the merfolk are still roaming these waters, searching for their homes." In part, she had heard those stories. But in another part, she had had a brief glimpse in a dream of a strange, birdlike creature that seemed from another world flying across skies in the smoldering heat of a jungle, and of abandoned palaces underwater. Perhaps her dreams were now more vivid, with her mind inventing the strangest things.
Lavinia turned around, an eyebrow arched sceptically. "I have never thought you would be somebody to spin that much yarn."
Or she was just spinning yarn. That was a possibility as well.
Glancing at her interlocutor, Lavinia asked. "Do you know where we will sail next?" Again, there was this determination in the other woman's eyes that made Yalene believe that she would escape at the first, best opportunity. There was fight yet left in Lavinia, and she was far more willing to take a risky opportunity than Yalene was … whatever the woman had planned, it was best and most courteous not to stand in her way and supply her with all the information she needed.
"He plans to sell the captured people to a trader in Araby."
She could see Lavinia blink, and there was a flicker of pain on her face before her features hardened. "Among humans we are at least humane. They'll have a fighting chance."
What a sweet and hopeful girl she could be if she wanted to. Yalene sighed, because she desperately wanted to believe that it was so. But alas, if she knew one thing for certain after all this time, then it was about the capacity of humans to do harm to each other. Dark Elves might claim the crown of cruelty for themselves, but there was competition, no doubt. But aside from the somewhat comforting fact that their distant neighbours and former crew-mates would not stay Druchii slaves, but be at least among humans, Lavinia knew now about the plans to sail south. Where she went from there was up to her, and Yalene would not stand in her way.
They were interrupted by Cevirin, the only other Druchii among Captain Blackwater's slaves, as she entered the cabin, balancing the last tray with soup, the last course, on her hands and throwing an absolutely poisonous glance towards the two human women. They fittingly turned out to be terribly unimpressed. That dinner was served now meant that the captain would certainly arrive soon, so that was their cue to leave. Yalene exchanged glances with Katharina and Lavinia and determined to do just that, as the Druchii placed the food on the table. But just in that moment as Katharina passed her, Cevirin suddenly grabbed her by her hair and forcibly slammed her face into the bowl of soup, leaving the poor girl spurting into its contents.
'What in the blazes?' Yalene was too shocked to say anything, especially since the other Druchii looked almost casual in her attack, but after the obligatory second of standing in stunned disbelief, Yalene rushed towards Cevirin and tried to pry her from the human woman. Lavinia had eschewed that troublesome moment of shock and had already tried to jump on the back of the Druchii. Much to the surprise for both of them, the other elf let herself be pulled away with surprising ease, a self-satisfied smirk on her face while Yalene raised her voice for the first time in a very long time. "What are you doing? What is wrong with you?!"
When she glanced to the side, she could see Katharina wiping her face, shaken but no worse for wear, but for some reason, Cevirin wore a smug smile on her face. A moment later, Yalene could see why, when she heard a low chuckle behind her at the door. Ruvol Blackwater had apparently not witnessed the scene, and the picture that he was now treated to had to be somewhat amusing at least to him, with four of his slaves in his room and obviously in an altercation, one of them having her face smeared with part of his dinner, and two others laying their hands on another. Yalene distinctly felt like she was among little children playing childish pranks.
Cevirin was the first to find it in herself to speak, and promptly tried to control the narrative. "Look what she did ...", she started, pointing at the other two women but no one in particular, but apparently, even Ruvol Blackwater, drama queen extraordinaire, didn't have enough patience for this kind of nonsense.
"Seriously?" That question alone was enough to silence the Druchii woman, who looked more indignant than anything else. "Yalene, tell Lavinia and Katharina to go down below to clean themselves up. You and Cevirin stay here."
After having been told as much, Lavinia gladly complied, hurrying away from this ridiculous scene, leaving the three elves to their devices. The door had closed behind her when Ruvol sat himself down and didn't lose any time to pull Yalene onto his lap, wrapping one hand around her waist and keeping her in place before she could even so much as voice either surprise or protest.
He looked her deep into the eyes, his voice thick with amusement. "Did you think I wouldn't notice?"
No matter how playful he sounded, given the fact that just before all childishness broke loose, she had entertained the idea of an escape plan, that question was enough to make her freeze in her motions, even though it was highly unlikely that he had read her thoughts on this matter. She also noticed that he occasionally glanced over her shoulder, exchanging glances with Cevirin, which told Yalene that she was merely an actor in the theatrics made for the other woman.
Ruvol continued with the same, easy smile as he let his free hand roam over her waist. His jovial tone was tinged with genuine concern. "You've lost weight." To emphasise his point, he gave her waist a gentle squeeze, just along the ribs that were admittedly the first to show. It was probably also true, since Yalene didn't have much of an appetite ever since her 'death', and it even lessened now that she had to drink that horrible tea. Still, she had no idea how this was Ruvol's business or how this had any connection with Cevirin's misbehaviour. She had just shoved another woman's head into a bowl of food, for Shallya's sake. What kind of insanity was this to just ignore that and ramble about a little weight lost? The captain was not deterred, though, his tone now carrying a sugary sweet quality that was definitely a touch too obvious, even for the theatrics he had in mind.
He stretched a little to pull one of the plates of his dinner close, which happened to carry some kind of dessert that she didn't know. It had only been served today, so she thought that this was probably a special occasion. This dessert, more like little pastries, looked small, just little morsels, and seemed to be some fudge-like sweetness dripping with honey. Whatever it was, if it was able to be coated in this much honey, there was no possibility for it to taste foul. Without further ado, he took one of those little honey-pastries and offered her one by holding it directly to her lips.
It appeared that Cevirin's reprimand consisted in her being forced to watch a fellow slave being hand-fed sweet treats, which was nothing short of infantilizing in Yalene's opinion. Furthermore, Ruvol made sure to sexually charge even that moment with tiny, little gestures – keeping his face so close to hers that she could feel the warmth of his body, an adoring smile on his face, a caress at her waist, not to mention that he let his fingers linger on her lips for just a moment too long and blithely and suggestively licked the honey from his own fingers, his eyes never leaving hers.
Yalene would have been impressed if it were not so petty. Even more so, she had to admit that the treat she had been fed so charmingly caused the tasteful equivalent of a massive honeyed explosion in her mouth. This was honey-coated fudge, as she now found out; she could practically feel the sweetness seep onto her tongue and make itself at home there for the foreseeable future while her stomach reported that maximum level of food capacity was reached due to sweetness overload. The texture was as soft as the touch of the man feeding her, as he traced her lips with his thumb with tender care. It was not the first time that he hand-fed her, and he apparently developed a taste for this.
"There's a good girl." He cooed into Yalene's face, which made her fear that she had possibly been the woman closest for him to grab and theatrically dote on to 'punish' his insubordinate servant "You know, we two need to talk about your assignments anyway, so you'll stay here. I had also planned on going on an errand tomorrow with our dear, dear Cevirin. Since she can't behave, I am forced to take you with me instead." He looked at the other elf, as did Yalene now, turning her head only to see Cevirin seethe, trembling in wordless, powerless rage. She knew that look. That was not a woman scorned she saw there, that was a woman discarded and being tormented, granted after she had done some tormenting herself. In that one look, the dynamic between them both was clear, especially given all what she had heard about those two so far. Ruvol and Cevirin were former lovers, or at least something akin to that. The smug look on Ruvol's face confirmed that impression. It was not that he had simply used her for sexual gratification, there had been some kind of bond that was now severed, leaving only mutual loathing behind.
What a messed up situation. When Yalene realized this, she shifted uncomfortably while Ruvol addressed Cevirin again. "Tell Mireille that the two of us need to be prepared tomorrow. Yalene will need something nice to wear and we will also need to scrub any trace of saltwater off. No scented soap. Lady Sevirr is incredibly sensitive to smells after all." He dismissively waved his hand. "Oh, and do clean up your mess. I don't want to be disturbed for the next half an hour. You can clean up the table afterwards."
There was barely any time to process what had just been said, or that it was decided that she would be taken along on a trip through the Black Ark. A part of her was strangely giddy about the prospect of seeing more of this Black Ark, another was completely terrified, and another part altogether was mortified about the scene she had just witnessed. Yalene decided to take note of that last part first, addressing the smug-looking captain after Cevirin had wiped the table, taken the bowl and slammed the door behind her.
"Was that really necessary?" She tried to sound as neutral and reasonable as possible, to which Ruvol arched an eyebrow.
"It absolutely was. Cevirin pulls crap like this all the time."
Now Yalene raised both of her eyebrows. "So only the fiercest gestures of pettiness and humiliation will prevent her from doing something like this again?"
Ruvol looked taken aback. "No, but it surely felt good, didn't it?"
"Not for me."
He seemed to be genuinely surprised. "Well, it was for me, end of the story." To make certain that this was indeed the end of the story, he reached out for one of those delightful fudges and attempted to feed it to her again. Feeling that she had used up her minutely allowance of defiance, she obediently opened her mouth to receive it again. This time, the gesture of feeding was more friendly and less erotically charged, which was a welcome change of pace. But oh, dear Gods, those fudges went into her stomach like large bricks, which was quite a feat, given that they almost melted on her tongue. When Ruvol attempted to feed her another, she simply had to decline.
"You only had one." He furrowed his brow. "You really lost weight. That's not healthy."
In response, Yalene could only shift uncomfortably on his lap, but instead of releasing her, he cleaned his fingers and gently guided her chin so that she was forced to look at him face to face. The expression on his face was now serious, even a little pensive and concerned. "I've been thinking. It seems that there's something you don't understand about the relationship between master and slave. You are mine, but I also have an obligation to take care of what's mine. That means that I need to keep you clothed, fed, healthy, and above all, safe."
Yalene didn't respond and kept her facial expression carefully neutral and attentive. 'If I had wanted someone to take care of me, I would have married a long time ago.', she kept thinking, but wisely kept her mouth shut as the elf continued.
"Something's wrong with you, dove. When I saw you the first evening, there was so much life in your eyes. Now, I see only fog. Why is that?"
Indeed, it was a mystery for the ages.
The elf shook his head. "Look, I get it. You are angry. I would be as well in your shoes." That was the first moment that Yalene allowed herself to look as puzzled as she felt, because that was a new angle that she hadn't seen coming. "What happened to you is bizarre … I don't know what I would have done if I found myself in a human body all of a sudden. The fur in their faces alone would drive me crazy." There was a bitter smile on his face, and to be fair, the term was a little bit amusing. "With so little life left, so vulnerable to disease and pain, thrown into a completely different culture, being seen as something I'm simply not … I can't imagine. And then there's suddenly this handsome stranger that whisks me away, calls me a slave and sends me down the stairs stark naked. Yes, that would piss me off, no matter how good the sex was. My resistance would be more violent than yours, though." Again, he looked her in the eyes, dead serious. "I got carried away that night."
That should have been a touching admission and Yalene was probably supposed to swoon, but she was sceptical. She believed him that he had thought about that night and maybe found a causality chain in behaviour that might have something to do with her current bearing. However, it told her that for some reason, he was not thoroughly satisfied with her behaviour in general, and that he now said what needed to be said in order to placate her. Even if this was a genuine admission on his part, what would it change?
When she was honest, then it would change a lot. It would mean much to her to find herself in a less hostile environment, but what she really wanted was not to be forced in any way.
"If you had asked me to teach you foreign languages and act as your servant in exchange for your protection, I might have agreed." She sounded more coolly than she had intended to be. To her utter surprise, Ruvol didn't throw a childish tantrum. Instead, he simply nodded.
"I know."
"So why I am I still wearing this?" She gave her own, heavy collar a tug.
"You are still essentially human. You don't understand." He replied insistently, but calmly. "Prestige is like currency with us, as is reputation. We don't just take people in out of the goodness of our hearts. That's weak, and there's nothing worse than weakness for Druchii. If I had just declared you a member of my crew that night, my sorceress might have objected. As you have heard, I have problems enough with rebellious officers already … I can't take much of a hit to my reputation. That sounds strange to you, I know, and maybe like a cheap excuse. But think, please, and don't take that the wrong way … what would happen to you if I lost my position here?"
Truth to be told, Yalene didn't even want to think about that and shivered involuntarily.
"And still … why do I get the feeling that you judge me constantly?"
'Because I judge you so much that it is a wonder that you are not aflame right now.', she thought, half-amused, half-angry, keeping her composure and her facial expression as neutral as possible. "A human does not become an elf overnight."
A smile crept on Ruvol's face "You know, Iruvan told me the same. He said that in many respects, you are like a newborn."
"He is a wise man.", she noted dryly. A wise man that had information about her that was way too dangerous, but since the first mate was consulted for difficult problems, it made sense that she was discussed with him as well.
"But it's so difficult! We've discussed what differentiates a Druchii from another elf, and come to no conclusion."
"That doesn't surprise me." Her voice and demeanour were not as aloof as she liked it to be, because she could certainly understand the difficulty in the thought process. "If I were asked what it means to be human, I would be asking 'to whose eyes'? Even then, it would probably be hard for me to adequately formulate an answer. I am me, after all. It is the most natural thing in the world for me."
"Exactly." The Druchii nodded.
"So I would take foreign impressions into account. The one thing that I have seen and felt more with Druchii than at any other place with any other creature is a casual attitude towards death." She stretched the words ever so slightly, mimicking his speech patterns, which was surprisingly effective in making these words sound more intense.
She felt the elf exhale more than she saw it, as he pondered on her words. "You don't need to do that. I know that you are not accustomed to violence, and there's no need for you to change that." When Yalene arched an eyebrow as to express scepticism, he elaborated. "It would be so very easy to teach you killing, dove. It would be so easy to arrange for you to overhear my crew and what they plan to do to a prisoner, and give you an opportunity to end this prisoner's suffering. You would feel bad, but you would do it, because ending one's life instead of prolonging it only to live in agony is the better outcome. You know that. After the first kill, everything becomes easier. Mercy is your weakness, so mercy can make you kill. I also think that you are capable of self-defence." He tried to smile, but it died on his face. Fitting, since what he was telling her was absolutely chilling, but nonetheless true.
When she didn't answer and simply shivered in response, he continued. "Druchii culture is difficult, as I told you. Unfortunately, any trace of kindness is considered weakness as well. I can't be overly polite to you in public. Do you understand?"
He had just announced that he could possibly mistreat her in public and then turn around and apologize for it behind closed doors, only to do it again. That left a bad taste in her mouth. On the other hand, there seemed to be some sort of polite standard in treating another's slaves, like not touching anyone's property. Her sisters-in-chains were reportedly never bothered, despite their frequent errands on deck.
"I need to think on all this." She announced after a thoughtful pause, to which he nodded. It was unfortunately the case that he was currently her only source on Druchii culture, and no single source was ever to be trusted implicitly. There was always some sort of bias, which was the reason why one took a second opinion on everything.
"I understand. But these lethal games I just talked about? These games are part of us, part of our world. Either one learns to love these games or grows numb and boring in the process. You can't climb the ladder without." She could feel his hand trailing along her waist. "I don't want to keep you imprisoned in my cabin or the hold. A scholar like you ought to see the world, and I intend to give you exactly that. I might have taken on more responsibility than I can possibly handle, but I told you that I would show you what it means to be Druchii. I'll do just that. Starting with table manners." With words, he turned her towards the table on his lap. "The food is getting cold, after all. We skip the soup and go right to the next course …"
And then, he indeed took the time to explain her table manners, basic and advanced, so that she would not suffer embarrassment by bread spread again. It was not that different from advanced human table manners, just with more added complexity and a fondness for a variety of sauces and small, but numerous plates. At the end of the admittedly charming and insightful session, Cevirin was indeed forced to clean the table and then retreat to leave them both alone. Ruvol Blackwater also insisted on a cuddling session on the couch. Since Yalene felt that she would roll over if she moved too much after the few bites she had taken, this was a lovely thought. He was not wrong, she was getting awfully thin, even by elven standards, her ribs showing on her flesh. She was a little bony now, which was indeed unhealthy. But the heavy-lidded, fond look on the face of the Druchii told her that he imagined his evening to become more interesting.
'Oh my.', she thought. 'It appears he will practice his oh so famed seduction techniques again.' It was such a pity, because she had almost enjoyed this evening so far, aside from Cevirin's antics. She had also appreciated the good-faith attempt of the first, tiny steps of teaching her about Druchii society. Now it seemed he wanted to be compensated.
That thought left her curiously indifferent. She felt neither disgusted nor excited, just a little numb. That was probably a good sign – overinvolvement when doing one's duty was never healthy. The captain marched confidently towards the couch while Yalene followed tentatively, trying to mentally prepare herself. When Ruvol sat down and beckoned her to come closer, she complied, sitting next to him, knowing fully well that he would pull her into his arms in a moment's notice. It turned out she was right at that account, and let him do so.
Well, at least he still had a shirt on. Even a dry one.
She did note, however, that the warmth of his body was quite pleasant while he made himself comfortable and had pulled her between his legs, her upper body resting on his, her head on his shoulder. Again, she was thankful that there was no instinct to recoil, which would have been quite vexing for everybody involved. This position also allowed her to avoid eye contact, or any look on his face. While she got used to the steady heaving of his chest, she could feel the elf's fingers on her neck, feeling the heavy collar that she had been forced into the other day.
"That won't do.", he calmly determined. "We need another collar for you tomorrow."
How lovely.
For a moment, she felt him tense up. No matter what this Druchii captain was, he was not devoid of empathy; he had to sense that she was currently basking in the pleasant feeling of indifference after being momentarily upset, which in his world had to be a worse crime than downright disdain. After all, a self-styled seducer could only work when he received some form of response. The silence was beginning to become awkward, and she thought that she would be called out any second now. Instead, she felt the man exhale, and then start with a calm explanation.
"Did you know that we actually have a system for determining the importance of slaves?"
"I did not. Please explain.", she enquired, trying to mask that she couldn't care less and would only file away this information in her head because she absolutely needed to.
"The ring on the collar gives the clue. A rough iron ring designates an unskilled labourer, only to be used for hard work." The unspoken subtext being that these people didn't last long at all. "Copper rings have been identified to have some skill that is useful and are worth more on the market. Silver rings – which means that their rings are polished or gilded, despite the name – are 'favoured' slaves, important for their master and usually not for sale." This was the moment when he lifted her chin, forcing her to look up and look into his face. Ruvol Blackwater looked serious and also a little stern. "You will be a Silver Ring. You are safe with me."
What Yalene did understand was the fact that the captain somehow expected her now to be thankful. 'You strange creature.', she thought. 'I didn't deserve to be captured and sorted like cattle. I'm not cattle. I'm a human being. Who are you to take that away from me?' She was in stealth right now, biding her time until she would find a way to escape, so she swallowed any pride and anger that had reared their ugly heads. There was no choice but to lower her gaze demurely and keep her voice even and pleasant. "I understand. Thank you for your kindness."
These words seem to placate him somewhat, since he let go of her chin, while his expression changed from stern to attentive, thankfully changing the subject while he idly stroked her back. Without warning, he sat himself up and grabbed her by the hips, lifting her on his lap, so that she straddled him. For a moment, Yalene feared to have unwittingly provoked some of the more erratic responses of his, but for now, he just seemed to be content to have her sit on his lap and talk to her face to face. Judging from his expression, he was currently in a more sober mood.
"I've heard that you talked to our little Lavinia." Oh goodness, where would that lead? Yalene eyed him warily as he continued. "You also told Mireille that Lavinia has little talent for other languages?"
"She hasn't. Some people have trouble learning another language than their own, especially when they are far more talented in the mathematical area. Lavinia happens to be such a person." Yalene replied, still wary where this might lead. By all the gods and their mothers, she sincerely hoped that he did not want her to translate or be there when they had their adventurous and from the sound of things, quite expert bedroom antics.
"Can you teach her?"
Oh. That was another matter altogether. "Reikspiel is closer to Tilean from a linguistic point of view, so it makes more sense to teach her a little bit of a language that is easier for her to learn. Druhir, on the other hand, is so different from her language that it is hard to teach her that … in fact, it is hard to teach Druhir, or any Eltharin dialect, to humans at all. The language is far too complex and nuanced for human standards." This comment visibly pleased the Druchii, but he kept listening. "Her need to communicate is great, so I am currently trying to teach her the basics of Reikspiel, so that she has at least some way to express herself. Besides, I seem to recall that you know a bit of Reikspiel yourself."
"Good." He smiled. "Since you are able to teach a slave with little talent in another language, you can teach me as well. I want you to prepare lessons for me."
Again, Yalene eyed him warily as the Druchii kept her firmly on his lap, his hands resting on her hips. "Which language do you want to learn?"
"Eventually? Every language I can possibly learn." He laughed. "But in the beginning, I want to broaden my knowledge about Reikspiel and learn Tilean. Is that feasible in your opinion, cunning linguist?", he teased, smiling from ear to ear while Yalene thought that this was an awfully sensible response from a person that not always acted sensibly.
"Certainly … but it will take time.", she noted tentatively.
"How much time?"
"Hard to say. A talented linguist can learn the basics of a language within three months, and become fluent in a year if he throws himself into the matter for every day. You, however, have a flotilla to command and usually only have one or two hours in the evening, not to mention that a good portion of your evenings are already taken. Judging from that, it will take years. However, I happen to know that life at sea can become quite boring. Perhaps you will have more time when we reach calmer waters." She tilted her head. "Haven't you been formally trained in Reikspiel?"
"Oh no." He laughed. "I picked it up over decades from slaves and was taught how to read. It's still hard sometimes."
"Mostly an autodidact, then?" Yalene couldn't help but respect that. Teaching oneself a completely new language, especially one so different from one's own native tongue as Reikspiel was to Druhir, was a difficult thing to do without help, and it also led her to smile. "You have done something difficult then. When I was a child, I tried to teach myself Bretonnian through the use of a dictionary and a novel I desperately wanted to read."
"Did you manage?"
"In part. My father intervened, because that book was really not meant for children, but learning Bretonnian very much is. Why do you want to learn a new language? It seems to me that most Druchii don't need to bother." It indeed seemed to be remarkable that this almost ridiculously authoritarian manly man wanted to pour his time into belated education. But then again, he had already demonstrated his interest for foreign literature, and that was almost certainly connected. Still, she wanted to hear his thoughts on the matter.
"Broadening my knowledge has proven itself to be an invaluable asset in the past." His grip around her hips tightened, and he started to guide her hips in lazy, circling motions, grinding her against his lap. Yalene once more felt helpless, more like a spectator in this scene than a participant. As not to appear too passive and unresponsive, as this had proven to be fatal, she covered the Druchii's hands with her own, letting them rest there without applying any pressure, her gaze unfocused. She could not deny that she felt a grain of excitement gathering in her stomach, but it was so encased in doubt that she couldn't tell it apart from budding nausea. At least she was clothed for now, clad in a simple, ridiculously low-cut dress that at least covered her arms, waist and legs, which she thought was much more comfortable than the ridiculous fashion female Dark Elves fancied. Mentally, she tried to prepare herself for what was to come, as the captain continued talking as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.
"Riding lessons." He smirked. "They should be part of every language lesson, don't you think? I want you to make a plan, vocabulary, homework, anything you deem necessary. You will be provided writing material, and you will have access to your own book again. You can work in my cabin. I also want you to read a few of my scrolls." He grimaced. "History is such a dry topic, but you seem like a person who wants to inform herself in that way, correct?"
Trying to ignore the growing bulge pressing against her while he mercilessly ground her hips against his, Yalene tried to change the subject, appealing to his vanity in the hopes that he would forget his growing desire. "You said broadening your knowledge has proven itself to be invaluable in the past?"
In a sense, her plan worked, as the Druchii stopped in his motions. Instead, he took her hands into his again, intertwining them while he sighed dramatically. "Why do you keep making this harder on yourself than it needs to be, dove? What can I do to make you comfortable?"
'Stop trying to force me into just about anything.', she thought, but that was not a thought she could voice at all. "I am sorry." She tried to sound demure and less amused. "I still have language lessons on my mind. I will try to do better." Nobody would ever know how it was possible that this kind of blatant untruth was rolling down her tongue.
To her utter surprise, Ruvol Blackwater was able not to fly into a petulant rage when being confronted with a slight hurdle like this. Perhaps he was too tired to do so, or in a more tolerant mood than the last time. It was all well, since he seemed to take her hesitance with good humour. "Alright then, let's get you into the mood." He smiled amiably. "But what would a learned woman like you find exciting?" There was a strange gleam in his eye as he pretended to think hard about this. "Poetry? Oh no, it's too late for that. Stargazing? Too cloudy. A nice walk? Ah, but you are still afraid of all those Druchii on deck. I could see it in your eyes." For a moment there, he seemed genuinely concerned and pensive, before he locked eyes with her, his voice now a low whisper as he let her hands go. "Come closer."
Warily, Yalene complied, bending forward, resting her hands on his chest while her face hovered only an inch before his. She could smell the seawater on him, the scent he had acquired during his long day, could see the tiny runes on his pale cheekbones, the damp strands of hair that had escaped his ponytail. Even more so, she could see the twinkle in his dark, almost black eyes as he lightly placed his hands at the sides of her face, carefully cradling it. "You said you were an old spinster and most of your experiences did not exactly charm your socks off. Is that true?" She nodded in response. "That means that you have little kissing experience, you poor thing, Is that so?" Again, she nodded. That made the smile on his face grow into a smirk. "That means that you have no idea how many accidents can happen when you are trying yourself out. You just skipped the awkward phase of adolescence. This simply can't stand!" He playfully pretended a little bit of outrage. "No, we will acquaint you with all you have missed. For example, the damselfish!" Before she knew it, he pressed his lips on hers while emulating the lips of said fish, which was a surprisingly wet and utterly ridiculous experience. Despite herself, she found herself giggling into this kiss. Ruvol wasn't done, though. "The slobbery dog!" True to the announcement, Yalene found her mouth to be assaulted by a saliva-dripping kiss that amounted more to licking her teeth than anything else. While she was occupied, the elf let one hand roam freely over her body. In the meantime, his impression of the slobbery dog included some flicks of his tongue over her face, culminating into the licking of her ear, which only seemed to tickle. "The pearl diver!" She was not allowed a moment's breath as he plunged his tongue into her mouth, merely concerned with sticking it as deeply into her throat as possible. If any person in the history of kisses had ever done this, she hoped that this person would step on little twigs for all eternity.
Pressed against his body and breathless from that playful assault of bad kisses, the elf took a moment to wipe his mouth with one hand, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he watched the giggling Yalene. "Ah, my dear, but we are not done. We still have the boob-clawer and the surgeon to go. It's the teeth, you see. You can also beg for mercy, if you think that this dreaded corsair would ever grant it."
"Mercy!", she laughed, as she would never have thought that bad kissing would be this disgusting, messy and at the same time entertaining. Ruvol obliged, pulling her into a tight embrace, resting his forehead against hers as he closed his eyes and matched his breath to her own while he pressed her hips tightly against his lap, his arousal evident. He took a moment of peace before he let his hot breath play on her ear, barely even brushing his lips against her earlobe, gently nibbling at her neck for a moment before he finally kissed her properly. It was just an almost innocent thing, a soft caress of lips against lips, tender pressure from the lower lip causing the sweetest warmth to spread in Yalene's chest. She had wrapped her arms around his neck, having leaned into the kiss and savouring every second of it. Parting her lips for his tentatively probing tongue proved to be a delightful experience. His playful explorations of the tongue made her heart flutter like that of a young maiden that she technically was and was not. When she finally pulled away after what felt like floating on a cloud, she had to catch her breath.
At least the Druchii Captain fared no better, his expression almost fascinated as he looked her into the eyes, holding her tightly.
"You asked why broadening my knowledge has helped me." He whispered in a low voice, his eyes never leaving hers as he slipped one hand under her skirt, caressing her thighs. "Years ago, we were locked in terrible battle with Asur. We were losing badly, our lines almost broken, two ships already taken by the enemy." He stole one tiny peck from her lips before he continued his breathless account. "We had taken a lot of strange oil from an Imperial vessel earlier that week, but nobody knew what it was, only that it was dwarven in origin and undoubtedly dangerous. But unlike my brothers and sisters in arms, I had listened to the prisoners, I had read up on Imperial science and engineering. I made an educated guess that this dwarven oil would burn even in water, and I used that knowledge and that assumption freely that day. The black oil filled the ocean, it burned brightly and without fail, leaving only an ashen sea. The tide of battle turned, since unlike my foster father, I was able to keep calm and keep my wits about me. When the battle ended, we had taken three ships and had even taken the enemy captain alive. I will never forget the cheering of my people, the calls for 'Blackwater! Blackwater!' filling the air." He smiled, and this smile contained a dreamy, faraway quality. "So you see, my dove, daring, wits and knowledge keep me alive. The world is a cruel and unforgiving place, and battle is all around. The battlefield is where only the quick survive, and I am so very quick."
This speech was surprisingly poignant, as Ruvol himself painted a picture of himself, a picture of a man forged in war and so accustomed to violence that he had only the faintest idea that victory and success were not always tied to carnage. Yalene found herself impressed, but not by the tale of martial prowess, but rather with the epiphany this man had, and that a victory had made him more determined to understand the world around him. This was his true strength, and that was something that Yalene could respect.
With more ease than she would have liked, he rose from the couch, lifting her up with him and supporting her by the rear while she clung to him and he carried her to bed. "I've reconsidered. Read me some poetry tonight. Reikspiel, Druhir, doesn't matter. I once heard a poem that ended with the line 'I am the master of my fate/I am the captain of my soul'. I can't keep these words out of my head, but never found which poem they belonged to."
"Invictus.", she replied helpfully, the tip of her nose almost touching his. 'Unbroken', an inspirational and well-known poem, which seemed fitting considering what she just had heard. It was not surprising that he knew part of this poem and drew strength out of it, since 'Invictus' was meant to remind people that they were not truly defeated until their death, that they were stronger than they thought. Even this black-hearted Druchii pirate understood as much, and if he, who obviously had suffered tragedy in his life also, refused to break, so could she.