I have been inspired by Mavelynn to write some missing scenes. This first chapter is strongly inspired by her fic. Let's give her all the credit. You'll see that the next chapters are originals. Please let me know if you read this and leave a comment. It is much appreciated.
Sinbad had been tossing and turning for more than two hours without being able to find a comfortable position. Now that the adrenaline had left his body he lacerations on his chest were hurting badly. He suddenly felt hot and sweat appeared on his forehead. He lifted his shirt and noticed the small pieces of dirt inlaid in his wounds. Firouz had warned him that he needed to wash those wounds or it could get infected, but he had felt so exhausted that he had not found the willingness to do it. Since he could not sleep anyway, he now thought he might as well do it. After a long sigh, he got up and opened the door to exit his cabin.
As he came out of his cabin, he came face to face with Maeve who was heading to hers. She gave him a quick glance, ready to enter her cabin, but she noticed the sweat on her captain's face. At that moment, Sinbad's head started to spin. Maybe he had gotten up too fast. Maeve stopped in the door frame of her cabin, studying him a little longer. As Sinbad brought a hand to his forehead, she frowned. "Are you all right?" she asked. Sinbad avoided looking at her. It was now obvious to him that he had a fever. He now felt ashamed that he did not clean his wounds sooner. He quickly turned and opened a cabinet where they kept bowls and plates. "I'm fine," he said, hoping she would dismiss the matter and enter her cabin. He then grabbed a skin of water and poured some in a bowl. Turning back to the cabinet, he grabbed a cotton cloth. As he was about to dip the cloth in the water, his head started to spin again and he staggered a little. "No, you're not," Maeve affirmed almost in an accusing tone. Sinbad ignored her and lifted his shirt to press the damped cloth on one of his wounds.
Maeve entered her cabin. For a moment, he thought he had succeeded in making her believe he was perfectly fine, but she came back shortly after with a cotton strip and a shallow glass jar. She placed them on the table and took the bowl of water from Sinbad's hands. "Give me this, you look terrible." Sinbad lifted his eyes from his wounds to look at her. "Why thank you, Maeve." She rolled her eyes to the comment. "You know what I mean. You look sick. it's infected, is it?" Sinbad let out a defeated sigh. "I am afraid so," he answered. Maeve lifted her chin to indicate the table next to them. "Sit," she said in an assertive tone. Sinbad hesitated for a second. He wasn't used to being told what to do. This woman had joined his crew not so long ago and she had been defying every hierarchical standard. He had come to discover a strong and stubborn personality and he wasn't sure he liked that she never listened to him, but on the other hand it was that same temper that had forced his crew to come and rescue him. The captain's body stiffened out of frustration, but he wasn't in the mood to argue with her. He complied and sat on the table, resting his feet on the bench. Maeve lifted her hand in front of him, waiting for him to give her the cotton cloth. "Lift your shirt," she ordered as she gave her the cloth. Sinbad looked at her and let out a soft chuckle. She had nerve. As she gently plunged the piece of cloth in the water, he executed himself and lifted his shirt with one hand while resting back on the other.
As Maeve turned back to him, she froze in place for a second at the sight of his chest. His muscular and athletic shape made her blush. So afraid that her captain might notice her reaction, she thought quickly of something to say. "It's not a pretty sight," she commented, hoping he would then understand that she was staring at his wounds. She approached him and gently pressed the wet cloth on his lacerations. As the water ran down his stomach, Sinbad's face tensed due to the sharp pain. Maeve was being extremely cautious, but the throbbing pain was inevitable.
"So, do you always have that kind of effect on women?" Maeve asked. Sinbad frowned. Did she just say he had an effect on her? "Do they all try to torture and kill you?" She specified. Sinbad chuckled while brushing away his thoughts. It was now obvious that she was talking about Rumina. "Fortunately, no. I am still trying to figure out why of all people, she would choose the man who killed her father." Maeve sighed and shook her head while plunging the cloth in the water once more. She bent her head to the side and reached the lowest wound. "I could never understand that witch." Sinbad had tried his best not to flinch despite the pain, his abs contracting with every pressure on his lacerated stomach, but now she was so close to him that the air seemed to have left his lungs. Her head was just a few inches away from his and he could smell the sweet smell of her hair.
When she put the cloth down on the wooden table and turned to the cabinet to find a dry one, he found the will to speak again. "So, what is the deal between you and her? What happened?" Mave looked at him with dead eyes, painful memories flashing before her eyes. After a few seconds, she cleared her throat and approached to wipe the water off his stomach. "Nothing," she answered in a low voice. Sinbad let her soak up the remaining water with gentle dabs while remaining silent. He had a million questions, but couldn't find one he had the nerve to ask. "Something must have happened," he commented. Maeve suddenly straightened up, the tension possessing every inch of her body. "Nothing happened." She retorted curtly. Her heart was now pounding inside her chest. Sinbad could see her breathing heavily, the tension was visible on every inch of her body. He raised his hands as a sign of peace. "Ok fine, you don't want to talk about it." he pleaded.
Maeve closed her eyes and inhaled silently, trying to regain her composure. After a short moment, she reached for the jar she had placed on the table. Sinbad seized the opportunity to change the subject. "What's that?" he asked. Maeve gave him a glance, appreciating his attempt to clear the air. "It's a healing balm," she explained as she gently applied the mixture on his wounds. "You made this?" Maeve raised an eyebrow as the corner of her lips curled up. Still concentrated on her task, she reached for the jar one more time to take more balm. "Well, I am not a physician like Firouz, but I do have a few tricks up my sleeve." Sinbad smiled, relieved to notice that she wasn't mad at him for questioning her past with Rumina. He glanced down to see she was almost done covering his lacerations with the balm. It felt slightly cold, which felt oddly good after the sharp pain he had felt before. As for Maeve's gentle touch, it felt like the flutter of a butterfly's wings was touching his stomach.
Maeve placed the lid back on the jar and reached for the long cotton strip she had brought. Sinbad frowned, not knowing exactly what she was planning on doing with it. She took one end of the strip and placed it in the middle of his stomach. "Hold this." Sinbad pressed his hand on the strip and his fingers accidently touched hers before she let go. Having her care for him this way felt uncomfortable. They had been bickering most of the time ever since she had joined the crew. For all he knew, she hated him. The fact that she genuinely wanted to help him tonight happily surprised him. He was even more surprised when she grabbed the rest of the cotton strip and proceeded to wrap it around him. To catch the strip behind his back, she leaned in and wrapped both arms around him. Sinbad froze in place. For a few seconds, she was so close it almost felt like a hug. She straightened up and leaned in a few more times as she was wrapping him. The whole process happened in an uncomfortable silence. It felt like maybe Maeve was uncomfortable too.
Just when Sinbad felt he was running out of air in his lungs, Maeve tucked the other end of the strip under the other layers and took a step back. She nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You should take it off tomorrow morning." She advised him. Sinbad nodded slowly while letting go of his shirt he was holding up. He was feeling a little bit numb. He wasn't sure if it was the fever or the sorceress's charms that left him feeling a little confused. Maeve motioned to the healing balm. "You can keep it. You should apply more tomorrow." Sinbad nervously grabbed the jar before locking eyes with her. "Thank you." Maeve responded with a timid smile. "Try not to get in trouble next time." Sinbad let out a laugh. "I can't guarantee that." Maeve nodded and Sinbad watched her as she turned to walk back to her cabin. She turned to look at him one more time before pulling the door open and disappearing.
