Chapter 4:
Deryn stared straight ahead, the white angular walls of her bunks blurring.
Alek had left a few minutes ago to leave her to consider what he'd said. She was really upset, and knew he felt the same way by the pain in his green eyes.
"...royal girl to marry..." kept running through her head like an annoying mantra. She didn't think this would happen.
She'd agreed with Alek's idea to try to talk to the Pope, but she hadn't thought about this outcome. She was a barking ninny and the Pope was full of clart.
Her sadness turned to anger in a squick. The pounding her head faded to the background and the protesting in her ribs to a backseat to what she had in mind. Deryn knew it was far-fetched and crazy, but she was good at far-fetched and crazy.
She slowly pulled the blanket back and sat up straight. She felt everyone of the bruises and cuts and sprains, but pushed past the mind-numbing pain. Her head pounded in anger, and she felt something wet fall into her eyes.
She reached her hand up just under her short blond, feeling the bandage there soaking; the cut had reopened and was bleeding through the bandage.
"Blisters!" she cried out softly. She looked around her small cabin, trying to find something to staunch the bleeding with, coming up with one of her old middies' shirts that no longer fit.
Tearing off a couple of strips, she quickly redressed her wound, wincing at the feeling.
She slipped into the corridor silently, checking behind her as she slid her door closed. There was not a person, Alek or otherwise, to be seen. Her first step away from her door, and she already felt like a girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
Every couple steps, Deryn paused, listening closely for any noise alerting her to an incoming presense. Hearing nothing, she continued along, tip toeing along. It felt awkward, having to sneak around on the ship that had been her home for the past two years, and she realized that this must've been what it was like for Alek in the beginning.
This is barking brilliant, she thought to herself, heaving a sigh. Quietly, though. The lady boffin will find me missing soon, and I'm stuck sneaking around the ship.
A slight tingling on the back of her neck, making the little hairs stand up a little and giving Deryn Sharp goosebumps. She shivered, feeling as if she was being watched, and hating it, because if someone was watching her, that meant that someone knew she was missing already.
She paused, looking around once more and saw nothing in the still deserted hall, but she still couldn't shake the feeling. She picked up her pace, while her head and ribs protested loudly at the increased movement. Her breathing hitched up a notch, making blood pound in her ears.
If she had paused just one more time, she might've heard the clomping boots, the heavy breathing, and almost inperceptable sound of cloth being removed from cloth.
The hand closed over her nose and mouth, the cloth blocking her airways. She struggled on the verge of panic, limbs flailing. She heard an umph come from the form behind, and she allowed herself a quick moment of pride.
"Come on, young princess. Quietly, please. It'll be much easier on you." The deep voice urged. She heard the calming tone in the british lilt, but was not concerned with it. As Deryn slowly lost consciousness, and, right before everything went dark, she felt the warm drops of blood from her head wound once more, and wondered what a barking princess was doing on an airship like the Leviathan.
Hehe, so maybe I changed it up a bit. I'm still kinda upset that Deryn keeps looking weak, but next chapter, hehe, certain people will be in for a big surprise when they try to control Miss. Deryn Sharp! Oh, I can't wait to write the next chapter!