WR: Well here we go, chapter 5!! I hope you guys are ready for a bit of Aika / Ramirez progress!! I bet you're all wondering what kind of bargain they strike… as if you couldn't guess knowing me and my sordid lemony mind. Anyway… lets get typing!!

Chapter 5

She was no longer aware of where she was. Sometimes she would remember. She would know she was still in the cell where Ramirez had left her, other times when her mind surrendered to her worsening fever, she would stare at the unfamiliar walls in fright.

The injuries to her feet had gone bad, inevitable in the filth of the jails. Walking had become impossible, and the infection had allowed a fever to attack her body. She always felt cold beyond measure, yet sweat constantly beaded her brow, leading to a continual, desperate thirst.

"By the Moons, man, what is wrong with her?!"

"Looks to me like she's contracted a fever, My Lord. Hasn't eaten nowt for the last two days, and her feet seem messed up."

"Why did you not send for a healer?!"

"I en't ever had to do that before, beggin' your pardon Captain, you didn't mention nowt about special treatment."

There was a muttered curse, and a clang as the metal door was swung open. There was also the sound of perhaps a score of men being shuffled into the cell beside hers. There was one set of steps that was louder, and drew closer to her. Then, powerful arms, she was drawn up from her slump on the rags into a sitting position. Her head came to rest on a firm chest. An overwhelming feeling of safety engulfed her… then the fever gripped her.

Ramirez was aghast. What had he done?! Where was the vibrant, innocent, fiery virgin he had left behind?! She shuddered suddenly, and a weak moan escaped her chapped lips. Her skin became clammy and cold, and the young Captain looked on, and knew the consequences of his rash, angry actions.

On the small rations, she had lost weight. Her supple curviness had disintegrated, and her cheeks looked hollow. Her skin was now paler from the cold lack of sun, and carried a sickly grey sheen. Dark shadows ringed her striking eyes, now closed in unconsciousness, and her once dazzling flame coloured hair now hung in greasy rat tails over her filthy shoulders.

Now, more than ever before, he felt the sickening truth of his foul reputation. He had turned this woman, wilful, beautiful and proud, into a shrivelled, painful ghost of her former self.

For the briefest of moments, he allowed his emerald gaze to flicker to Dyne. The Air Pirate Captain sat on a rough cot, the rest of his crew looking around their cell. None had even glanced at Aika, although many wore strained expressions, or allowed a quiver to show their anger. The Captain himself had his eyes shut, and his arms crossed over his powerful chest. At a glance he would appear relaxed and uncaring. But Ramirez saw his tight, pale lips, the lines creasing his forehead, the rapid rising and falling of his chest, his flared nostrils as his breath came in short, sharp gasps. He was tense, seemingly putting all his energy into not leaping at the bars and screaming for blood at the treatment of his foster daughter.

Ramirez dragged his gaze back to Aika. Leaning her up against the wall of her cell, he stood, his mind flicking through a multitude of spells.

"Silver Moon." He hissed, almost silently, his eyes taking in her sickness-ravaged form. "Purge her of illness."

Sparks burst into life around her prone figure, till a multicoloured swarm of lights had gathered around her. Her body shuddered and twitched. Her bruised, swollen feet expelled their poisonous, infected pus, and the wounds themselves closed neatly, leaving no scars. The fever rushed from her body in a cloudy haze, leaving a pink flush on her wasted cheeks. As the spell dispersed, the Captain dropped to her side. She was still weak, and although free of the illness, her body lacked the energy it needed to pull itself from its coma, and allowed its host to take refuge in painless unconsciousness.

He touched her with a Rislem spell, and felt her stir gently. Then, her lucid, lavender eyes opened.

"R-Ramirez…" She breathed. Was he really here?! It was a moment before she realised no sound had escaped her lips, the silencing serum still holding sway. Her mind was fogged. She had seen this man constantly in her dreams. Now he was before her, more clear and handsome than any of her hallucinations, could he truly be real? She raised her hand weakly, and her fingers reached out to the fabric of his shirt. When they touched it, she gripped the material tightly, as if it was a lifeline. Her eyes fixed on the point of connection between them. Relief swamped her! He was real, her had finally come back for her! …. Her had left her…

He saw the change overcome her eyes. The joy which they had shown had lanced into his chest warmly. But it drained away as swiftly as it had come. Realisation grew in them which gave way to an agonising pain which surfaced from her soul, then finally her eyes darkened in unquenchable fury, and flicked up to bore into his own. Her hand trembled with the effort of maintaining her grip, and he watched in fascination, as tears of anger tumbled onto her dirty cheeks.

His hands came up to her arms, taking hold of her biceps carefully. His heart beat rapidly against his ribs, and his mind screamed in regret for what he had reduced her to.

"Can you stand, Aika?" He asked quietly. She didn't answer, of course, other than to narrow her eyes. The movement dislodged another tear, and she seemed to realise she had been weeping, and blinked them away rapidly. With a small shove, she pushed up from the floor, her weakened legs trembled under her. She lasted mere moments, before she staggered. Only his arms prevented her knees hitting the stone. Her body was drawn against his as he supported her, she could feel his hammering heart, and feel his breath, hot against her neck. Human contact! Even though she received it from her enemy, she savoured the tough. Then, over his shoulder, she saw them…

He felt her tense, and a ragged gasp rushed into her lungs.

"Aika…" He hissed. She tried to jerk away from him, desperate to reach out to her friends, her crew, her father… but she had no strength. Her efforts to pull out of his grasp were nothing more than feeble twitches. His voice was in her ear, and she knew it was for her alone.

"You must not go to them. You will be killed if you do!"

His words crashed futilely against her mind. What did he care for her life? What did she care for her own life anymore?! Her family, those she loved most, stood now in a Vaulan cell. Pirate Isle had been attacked. They would be put to death, and Aika wanted to die with them.

"They ignore you, Aika." His words were true, and made her blood roar in her ears. Why did they not call to her? They had not even looked at her, it was like she was invisible to them!

"They are doing it for you! They don't want to see you die!"

She wilted against him, from both defeat and exhaustion. What could she do? Too weak to fight back, and no weapon with which to attack. Her eyes ran over them again. The entire crew was not there. Vyse, as well as a few others, along with the villagers were absent. Hope flared. Her best friend had not been captured! She felt a slim ray of possibility light her heart. Aika, more than anyone, knew the extent of Vyse's courage and huge heart and loyalty. He would find them, and in doing so, find her.

Ramirez felt her relax slightly, as, with some difficulty she closed her eyes and turned her face from them. She still needed support, and he gave it in the form of one arm curled over her back, his hand on her waist. Turning he guided her out of the cell. Silently the Captain held an open palm out to the large jailer, Don-Vito. Into his fist, was dropped a tiny vial of silvery white liquid. Then, without a backwards glance he led her out of the dungeons, and through the Palace to his quarters.

It was midday and the castle was thriving. News of the successful mission was spreading and a keen excitement about seeing bloody justice dealt in the Arena was buzzing in the air. Through this chaos of milling soldiers, gossiping maids and impatient serfs, strode Ramirez. By his side was a filthy, grubby woman, who seemed on the verge of fainting clean away. To him, the World and all its occupants, were nothing. Only the woman nestled silently at his side, mattered. She carried a stench of infection and old sweat, and her usually creamy, bronzed skin was blotched with filth. He had done this… The change in her, physically, and the tears of her hurt and humiliation, had had a more profound effect on him than he would ever admit. There was a burning tightness in his chest. It was painful and suffocating. Guilt perhaps? Shame? He had, but a week ago, regarded this girl with admiration, thinking what a rare, and pure thing she was. Now she was a dirty, weak prisoner, hobbling and leaning on him for strength, humbled and frightened.

But he had not crushed her. No, she was more powerful than even she herself knew. For the tears she had shed were not born from sadness, desperation, heartache, or pain. They were seeded by rage. Pure, white hot, and all for Ramirez.

Finally the doors of his quarters loomed before them, and not a moment too soon. At last, overcome by soul-sapping exhaustion, Aika swooned, and her legs buckled. The corridors here were quiet, and without hesitation, Ramirez bent, slipping his free arm under the backs of her knees, lifting her to his chest like a sleeping child.

Entering his rooms, he barely took note of the lavish new furniture, or the two trunks that sat awaiting him. Instead, he proceeded directly into the washroom. In the centre of the floor was a huge, sunken tub. Jets in its walls allowed the water within to constantly be replaced. The scented water was always hot, and ready, steam curling from its surface.

Lowering his burden to the cool, damp floors, he proceeded to strip her. He peeled back the stained shirt and tossed it away, then the tight breeches followed. He gazed down at her naked body, filthy, unconscious and hurt, and knew he was looking at one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. But no desire stirred his loins, not yet. First he must bathe her, and wash away the cruelties he had done her. His eyes grazed over her nakedness once more, before he stood and stripped himself. Then, lifting her again, stepped down into the tub.

Taking a wash cloth soaked in scented oil, he methodically rubbed it gently over every part of her flesh. The grime fell away from her, exposing the smooth skin beneath. It was stained with a rosy blush from the heat of the water. Gently he washed her face, and was able to appreciate how it looked while relaxed and peaceful. High cheek bones, and a tapering jaw that ended in a small, delicate chin. Arching brows, like fire, graced her smooth forehead, and thick auburn lashes framed her closed eyes. Although her face was a little too think due to her time in Don's cells, it was still striking. She wasn't beautiful in the conventional sense, but the word 'pretty' could never capture her appearance either. Hers was a face which entranced a man, which made the breath catch in his chest. Her soft, wide lips beckoned kissed, and her voluptuous form screamed for a caress.

He leaned her limp form back in the water, so her hair became sodden, before he reached for the soaps that stood waiting. Soon the silken locks were heavy with damp, gleaming softly as he rose from the tub, with her cradled against him. He swiftly snatched up a thick towel, and covered her alluring and enticing body with it. He lay her on his bed, before turning and swiftly pulling on a pair of soft leather breeches. Then he turned, and returned to her. As he approached, he snatched up the tiny vial of liquid, from where he had dropped it on a table. He knelt beside her, and gently prying her lips apart, poured the fluid down into her waiting mouth. She instantly gagged and choked, her vivid eyes snapped open in panic.

"Calm yourself." Hissed Ramirez, his strong palm stroking her throat, to aid in swallowing. "This will help you find your voice, Aika."

The harsh rising and falling of her chest slowed, as her heart slowed its wild palpitations. The feel of his rough hand on her neck was wonderful. After a week of silent solitude, the tender touch of his hand was like a dream. Weakly, she tried to rise, but his hand moved firmly to her collar bone, and pressed her back.

"Do not waste what little strength you have." He advised quietly.

"I… I thought…. You would never... come back." Her words were fragile and stuttering as her vocal muscles stretched again. But the pain in the words cut him deeply.

"Aika," He said, shifting into a sitting position on the side of the bed. His hand still holding her down. "I did not know you would suffer so. Now, I look back on my rash actions and feel ashamed." He heard the words as if someone else had said them. He had never apologised, or voiced remorse for anything he had done before, her voice cut into him again.

"I saw… a girl… raped by three…" She paused to cough roughly. "Three nobles." Her dry eyes bore into his. "I saw a man lashed till he passed out… I could not offer any comfort… I could not reach out to help…" She trailed off.

Ramirez looked at her in amazement. All her hurt, her anger… it did not stem from self pity. It was born from the sorrow she had felt, seeing the suffering of others, and being unable to ease it.

"And then," She continued, her voice trembling, sending tiny vibrations through his fingers. "then you were there… and my family! I-I told you the location … of … of my home! I betrayed them! They will die because of me!"

Ramirez was unfamiliar with the painful stabs of emotion in his chest. He could not name it, but all he knew, was that he wished to comfort her, to see that lazy smile sweep over her face. He could not achieve this with words, he knew it. He decided to go down a route which was far more appealing, and had been sorely tempting him since he had submerged her, naked in the tub. The hand on her neck rose, running his fingers along her jaw, turning her face towards his own. As her eyes met with his, she knew instantly what he was going to do.

"Please…" She breathed, helplessly as he leaned towards her. With a surge of strength, she managed to turn her head away in the moment before his lips met her own. Ramirez, however, paid no heed. He kissed her temple, her jaw, her neck. Her heart was hammering in her ribs like a terrified bird, but at the same time his lips were leaving a blazing trail which scorched her flesh. Then his hand moved, drawing attention to how little material covered her. His fingers began tugging the damp towel aside, but in her panic, she raised her own hand, and clasped his.

Turning her face back, she opened her mouth to beg him to stop, willing her fury at what he was doing to return to her. But she was silenced by his lips as they finally found hers.

The battle was lost. Ramirez couldn't and wouldn't stop. As his kiss seared her, she felt her treacherous arms weakly link behind his neck, and she realised she needed this contact just as much as he did. She felt him pull himself above her, his hand gliding easily under the towel to her warm breasts. She gasped against his ministrations, which were delicate, yet utterly mind numbing at the same time.

"Kiss me, Aika." The rough command came from his hoarse throat as a gruff whisper, and she obeyed without question. Her mouth came to his, her tongue innocent and probing. She kissed him with such sweetness that it sent a pang of desire through him, so strong it left him trembling. Eventually their fevered mouths parted to allow them to breathe. He gazed down at her, his emerald orbs taking in the blush of her skin, her hazy eyes, dark with lust. The towel was open to her waist, concealing her other attributes from him, and arousing him all the more. Her arms still linked behind his head, her gentle grip holding him pressed to her.

"By the Moons." He murmured, his breath mingling with hers. "I want you."

The prolonged separation of their tongues, had allowed her to surface from her euphoria, and start to see reason. It was in this hazy world between pleasure and shame, that she heard herself utter the words.

"Do you want me badly enough to release my family?"

"No." The answer was devoid of emotion, and unhesitating in its deliverance.

The passion died at his cold, bland words, and she released her hands, letting them fall away from him. Turning to the side, she managed to draw enough strength to roll away from him, tugging the towel back over her body. It was not the fact that he had answered as he had to her question, for it was a foolish and stupid one, it was the callous, swift way in which he had turned aside everything she offered with absolutely no hesitation. She heard a low chuckle.

"Come back here Aika."

"I don't think I will." Came her sharp reply, as reason and anger returned to her. "In case it has escaped your notice, I have been locked up in a disease ridden cell for the past week, and wish for some sleep! I also wish for some good company, and I think if I look at you for too long, I'll either hit you or throw up!"

His easy laugh reached her ears again, and she felt the bed shift under his weight as he moved closer to her. Then, the hard contours of his chest pressed into her back. Closing her eyes, Aika feigned sleep, she was certainly entitled to fall into slumber to swiftly after her draining experience in the cells. She merely hoped that he would not try to wake her. He didn't.

Looking down at her profile, Ramirez, despite his raging arousal, felt utterly at peace. He didn't know if he would be able to save her from the Queen's judgement, but he would try. He knew she was not asleep, her breathing was too shallow and rapid for that. He could touch her again, override her resistance, and take her. But he didn't, instead he reached across her and dragged some sheets over her still-damp form. He watched her till she slept, her breaths now deep and steady. He pushed away a stab of guilt for what he had done to her. It was only the afternoon, and Ramirez was not yet tired. The intoxicating woman beside him needed rest, but no doubt that when she woke again, refreshed and vibrant, all Hell would break loose.

He smiled to himself in anticipation. What was it about this female, that turned him into a grinning pup? She was proud, un-biddable, arrogant and crude. But he found himself enjoying their verbal battles almost as much as he enjoyed touching and tasting her. He lay on his side, watching the young she-demon who had captivated him, for a moment longer, before rolling off the bed, and tugging on sparring armour of stiff leather. He was alive with the restless energy only a strong arousal could bring, and he needed an outlet.

He glanced back at the sleeping girl as he left, belting his blade at his side. Her mouth was slightly open, her hair strewn over his pillow with abandon, her narrow shoulders, the only part of her body showing above the sheets. He shook his head at himself, and at her, then swung the door shut behind him.

WR: yes yes, i know, another short one. Also i hear you say 'Aika would be waaaaay more pissed with him than that' But hey... she wasn't feeling herself and all lonely. She was also preoccupied with her family having been caught.

Anyway, sorry it was short, in the next chapter... comes the bargain... ohhhh what could it be?? Anyway, let me know what you think, dunno if I'll be able to get the next chapter up before chirstmas.. got SO much work, I will try my best tho. :)

xx