battle born

She woke with a headache pounding in her temples, and a fumble on her nightstand told her why. Instead of her customary cup of water, she was greeted with a half-drunk mug – a mug, really, Malle – of wine. Half-drunk. And slowly, painfully, she remembered the two bottles that came before that.

The hair was a shock. Not that she’d done it – the scent of bleach and peroxide followed her like a cloud of angry bees – but that it didn’t look awful. There had been several moments where she’d wondered, not the least of which when she stumbled into Lola’s shower, her scalp plastered with what could only be lovingly called blue goop.

Two large cups of tea and a helping of toast later, she felt more like herself. Less like herself. A little unsteady either way, as she fidgeted with her dress. He was a surprise, and her eyes flew wide as he spoke.

What did you do?

“Good question.” Malle murmured, a small blush appearing on her cheeks. She didn’t know. And she didn’t know how to explain the helplessness that overtook her at times on the island, that bade her to recklessness, to shed pragmatism. 

“I didn’t do it for that,” Malle waved the idea away. Wet her lips and took a step back, not realizing how close they were. Her smile remained, tentative. “Do you like it?”

A barely contained smile stayed locked on his face as he looked Malle over. She was still the same Malle. It didn’t matter to him if she had brown hair or blonde hair or pink hair or no hair. The pretty blush on her face paired with the almost shy question caused him to step forward where she had stepped back, keeping her close. 

“I do.” Gently, he brushed a piece of blonde hair across her forehead and kissed her there. “But I still don’t get how you did it.” Jacob knew absolutely nothing about hair dye but he was fairly certain going from Malle’s dark brown to blonde had to entail some kind of magic, maybe even a blood sacrifice. The faint scent of strong chemical hit him. Was it bleach? He couldn’t tell. Jacob blinked at her, a little awestruck all of the sudden.  “Did it... hurt?”

Pine needles clung to the back of her dress, discarded on the floor. She could see the outline of it faintly in the dying light, and the bed was cold everywhere but where his skin touched hers. Malle pushed back, wanting more of it. Her wrist, bandaged again after the shower, lifted. Her fingers laced with his and pulled his arm more securely around her.

She was exhausted.

“I missed you, too.” Her voice was soft, and close to sleep. Every part of her hurt, bruises on her hips, her thighs, her neck all traces of just how much missing they’d felt. Malle shifted her head, cheek finding the soft part of his arm. Safe. She felt safe. Almost dreamily, she sighed. “I wish we could run away from here.”

—

3:09am

She’d woken hungry, ravenous, her stomach an empty pit. They’d fallen asleep around sunset. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast, eggs and a single strip of bacon taken with too much tea and a glowering stare.

Malle knew his kitchen like she knew his villa like she knew the man who lived there, and she found bread and cheese, turned the oven on. She reappeared in the doorway, dressed only in one of his shirts, a toast-filled towel in her hand. Malle smiled to see him half-awake, the moonlight catching his eyes. She looked a little guilty. “I was hungry.”

I didn’t leave.

She lifted the towel, offering a slice to him. “Care for a toastie?”

Jacob was a heavy sleeper and after the day he’d had, half spent chopping wood and the other half with Malle keeping him busy, he was snoring softly in a deep sleep when Malle got up. But not before long he woke, slowly, his ears distantly catching the sounds of cabinets opening and closing and the quiet padding of bare feet on tile. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and reached out to discover an empty space in bed beside him, brow furrowing. He didn’t care that Malle was in the kitchen, he only minded that she was gone.

Not quite enough to get out of bed, though. Jacob pushed himself up and rubbed a hand over his face and looked to the door as he heard Malle come down the hallway. His eyes looked her over, a bit hazy, catching all the ways the fabric of his shirt clung to her body. And he smiled. They cooked together quite often (Malle more than him unless he was manning the grill) and the familiarity of Malle moving around his kitchen brought a warm feeling up from his chest. He’d missed this. He’d missed her. He couldn’t tell her enough.

He opened an arm to her, beckoning her back into bed with him, a wide smile on his face. “Sure.” I wish we could run away from here, she’d said. Jacob had no answer to that. To disagree would be a lie, to agree would be too honest. But he thought about it constantly since Malle said it. It made him think about eating food at a restaurant. At a proper table with Malle across from him eating by candlelight. What a thought to have to execute while they were indefinitely stuck here. But there were worse things--Malle in his bed wearing only his shirt was not something to take for granted. “Come back here,” he said sheepishly.

---

one week later

Jacob waited outside the villa, a few paces away by the path so that he wouldn’t be seen walking up to the door. Trying to avoid any questions after what happened seemed best. A part of him thought the sneaking around was fun before, but now it grated. Another thing the island had to take from him, another freedom pulled away in the tug-of-war. When the door opened, he saw a blonde woman exit and he looked away, a bit surprised that it wasn’t Malle and he didn’t want to be seen by--

Wait.

I need you, he said. You don’t, she wanted to counter. Jacob didn’t need anyone, or anything. He was self-contained, a mountain of determination, strength, and the willpower to carry out whatever he felt necessary. He didn’t need her. What could she do?

Still, her fingers curled tightly into him, her arms locked around him. I love you, she said, and she meant it, and she didn’t care if he said it back. It was enough just to hear it out loud, for it to be actualized. She held on in the ringing silence, alert and waiting. Terror rose in her chest, but no higher. I love you. It was enough.

His voice was soft and low, tight, just as she was, held against him. Nearly lifted from the ground by the sheer pressure holding her to him. Tears sprung in her eyes – of course you’d cry at this. And she did.

Pulling away just enough to lift her face to his, she shook her head. Happiness was a fickle and frightening thing as it flooded her veins, and she was crying, of course, but smiling, too. “Then–” Malle was lost for words. She fumbled for a moment. “Well.” Why are we doing this? She knew the reason, of course, she just found it hard to care. “So.”

Words really did fail her, then, so she kissed him. Hard, and desperate, afraid to acknowledge the joy perolating sweetly in her stomach in case it went away.

Jacob didn’t know how long he stood holding Malle, trying to fathom the unfathomable tears streaming down her face. I love you. He was not one to cry for. He was not one to love. But she did, and even Jacob felt the threatening tears in the corners of his eyes. It was easier to kiss her, to hold her. No one is going to hurt you. I’m not going anywhere.

Inside--it started in the shower. When through the frosted glass and steamy air he saw the outline of dark hair and the curves he’d memorized and a small hand that opened the door. Jacob missed Malle more than he could describe--he was afraid of how much he missed her. Closed eyes and the touch at his back. Hot water and warm hands. He dismissed the worries and dread at least for a few minutes--a few hours.

“If it means going out on a supply run, I will keep my mouth shut.” Every pirate was so desperate for even a day on the water, Ale knew that if she blabbed about the possibility, it would spread like wildfire and she may lose the opportunity. Her desire to get back out to the open seas were too strong for that to happen. “Don’t we all hate a crowded ship? Besides, this is ours. Yours. We should get first dibs.”

Nodding, Ale smiled a little, beginning to relax around her captain which she can’t say she had ever done before. “Oh yeah? What do you make?” Maybe it was because she had never really spent anytime with Jacob, despite her three years on Jupiter’s, that she felt so nervous around him, but she wanted that to change. She nodded, shrugging one shoulder as she tried to play off with her usual answer. “I’m alright, it’s hard, but we’re all in the same boat. No pun intended.” She too had been coping with generous amounts of alcohol. “I work out a lot, I hit the punching bag way too often. But I think it helps that it’s not just one person being kept off a ship, we all get it. Just something we have to do.”

“It’s our ship, but technically we’re going on a supply run for The Deadly Tide. Keyes wants some materials for training their new gunner. I’m sure you can find whatever’s on his wish list.”

Jacob watched a few gulls circling the bay as Alejandra spoke, acknowledging her words with a nod of his head. “Yeah. You’re right.” It was a huge waste of manpower having all seven crews grounded here. “We would need less of us here if the royals were kept locked up. Not allowed to roam free like they do.” No fire would have happened, either. “But that’s not my call,” he concluded with a bitter snort.

“I make all kinds of things. Mostly furniture. Came in handy after the storm, that’s for sure. I’m working on a bookshelf right now.” Not that anyone needed a bookshelf, and not that the person he was making it for could ever take it with her, but it was something to do. “If you need a table or something, I’ve got the time.”

Wordlessly, Sid handed a bottle of Jack Daniels over, unopened and untouched. Sid then opened his own bottle again, sipping the contents with as much self control as he could muster. The Gunner then shrugged “-don’t worry about it Man. Weren’t gonna let you come all the way out her by yourself.I needed the fuckin’ peace anyways. No one can get me out here-” Sid grinned across the boat at him, eyebrows popping up from between the dark glasses. Sid watched him take a drink, licking his lips Sid wasn’t quiet sure how to answer. He could lie. He could spin Jacob some sort of fanciful story that didn’t mean jack shit to him.  Sid needed to fucking tell someone what was fucking him up. If that person was Jacob Tulach, then so be it. 

Sid sightly gently, ran a hand through his hair and took a hefty sip of whiskey before starting. “-a woman.” He was calm for a moment, before a bitter smile tore at his lips and made him smile “-don’t wanna forget her for ever…just for a few hours..” Sid sighed, again, and heavier than before. He took another drink before continuing. “-i say we drink to the fuckin’ women in our lives….” SId raised his bottle haphazardly “-love ‘em too much to be angry, love ‘em too much to be upset….It fuckin’ sucks Tulach…” Sid tilted the bottle toward Jacob and then, took a hefty sip as compensation for his honestly.

Forget forever. No, Jacob agreed silently. Not forever--a few hours to rub away the pain etched into his chest would do. The sea helped. The company helped. The whiskey--well, that alone helped. Jacob nodded and lifted the bottle of Jack into the air as a way of a toast, drinking as he thought about Sid’s words.

“No shit,” he said softly. Sid was saying almost exactly what was on his mind. He hadn’t invited the gunner along to talk about women. Yet here they were. Jacob wondered if having Malle on his mind was rather transparent, even though their relationship wasn’t common knowledge. Or maybe him and Sid happened to find themselves stuck in the same boat.

Literally. But also with their relationships.

“I thought for the longest time I’d never get into anything serious.” Too old. Already got mixed up with a woman and had a kid. And Jupiter’s Fury kept him busy. “Then when I do, it had to be with a...” Jacob trailed off, unwilling to speak further. Maybe Sid would knew what he meant. Maybe Sid knew more than he let on.

“You’re in love?”

She followed his gaze as he looked out at the sea, her eyes closing for a moment to just feel the sea breeze on her face before she looked back to her captain. “Thank you.. I miss being on her, so much.” She wrinkled her nose a little as she realised how her words could be misconstrued. The one time Ale lost her cool was in the presence of Jacob Tulach. “I mean onboard, you know.” Shaking her head at herself, Ale offered a small smile. “Of course not, Scotch isn’t something to be gossiped about.” She couldn’t help but laugh quietly at the look on his face. “It looks like a pretty good bottle, so your secret is safe with me, Cap.” Running her hand along the side of the deck, Ale was hit with just how much his earlier comment had struck her. The ship truly did feel like home, more so than any of the other places she had lived, or remembered living anyway. “Do you think we’ll get to take her out any time soon? I know we’re all stationed here for the foreseeable..” She looked at him with hope, even though she knew it was unlikely. “How are you doing? Being on the island, I mean. If that’s not too personal to ask.”

“Yeah, we may be able to leave for a supply run. But keep it on the down low. If the island finds out we’re taking a ship, we’ll have a stampede of people wanting to come along. And you know I hate a crowded ship.” They weren’t allowed to travel far, and not anywhere close to actual civilization where they could be spotted by officials. It would likely be a day trip--but better than nothing.

Jacob shook his head at her question, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ve done a lot of woodworking. That’s the only positive to being stuck here.” Jacob didn’t really care anymore if he sounded grumpy. It was rather apparent that he wasn’t pleased with the situation, even if the orders came directly from his brother. “Like everybody else, I’m coping with alcohol,” he said dryly with a roll of his eyes. Hence the scotch. “How are you doing, Ale?”

Unreasonably, she was reluctant to part from him in the hallway, and instead stayed close as they moved. He was warm, and she liked the way that his voice seemed to start from deep inside his chest. And perhaps he smelled nice, and perhaps she’d been thinking of what it was like to kiss him since she saw him on the dock. Perhaps. Perhaps not.

At the doorway to his room, though, she let go of him, stepping inside until all that connected them were their fingertips. It looked smaller for the lack of things inside of it, the sunlight filtering through a pair of windows on the far side. For a moment, she wondered if he was teasing her; but it explained so much. Why he slept curled against her back, as though he was accustomed to pressure on all sides. Why sometimes he rocked a little in his sleep, uncomfortable with the stillness of land.

Letting go of him, she reached for the hammock and pressed lightly on it with her palms. It bounced, gently, and began to sway. Malle looked over her shoulder at him, turning to sit, and then to fall back as it caught her. Once she was there, it wasn’t so bad. “Do you miss it?” The hammock swayed gently under her weight. “Sleeping in here.”

Jacob watched with a smile on his face as Malle went over and tried out the hammock. It must have seemed novel to have a hammock for a bed, but that was the reality living on a ship. Jacob slowly stepped all the way into the room, glancing out the window which faced the sea. Pretending he was sailing lost its charm around the sixth week here. But he spent a few nights on the ship before he was assigned to watch over Cardoza. Nowadays he felt less like a pirate and more like a... well, he didn’t know what.

When Malle spoke again, Jacob went over to the hammock, pushing on it to keep her rocking back and forth.

“As much as you miss your own bed.”

The weight behind his words probably was not lost on the sharp princess. He meant it. He felt captive here, too. Perhaps not to the same degree. But he couldn’t leave either, even though he could. He couldn’t betray his brother like that.

Jacob gave another little push on the hammock and let out a low sigh. “We should probably go before someone notices I brought you here.” A small grin. Even Jacob Tulach could get in trouble.

She didn’t like to be frightened. She was smart, had stood on her own for a long time. Fought to make a place for herself in the world, one separate from her family, from her home. Malle had survived, not because of her name, but in spite of it. Princess didn’t levy the determination that wrapped around her core.

He knew it, too. He’d seen it. He was larger than her, stronger, and she’d gone after him anyway. No, I will not be taken. Do not touch me. That woman felt as real to her as a fictional one. Standing in the clearing, Malle felt small.

It was her brothers. It was the pirates. It was all of the other people, clustered on the island, preoccupied with their own wants and fears, agendas and worries. She felt nothing like the woman who had arrived there. She was frightened, and tired, and alarmingly alone.

Kane’s intercession hadn’t implied a place for her. It wasn’t a trade, her relationship with Jacob for some new home. It was just stop. And she had. She was stopped.

His arms folded around her and she stepped into him, the curves of her body fitting easily against his. He smelled like freshly-cut wood and sweat, the sort that stuck on his skin. Malle rested her chin there, on his shoulder. “I want you,” for all of his murmuring about her family, all of the tension that riddled his face as understanding dawned, that was the only thing that mattered. “I want you,” she repeated. Her voice dropped to barely a whisper. “I love you.”

She did. She knew it, had known it for a little while then. She loved him, not just in moments, not just in parts. She loved him as the slow light of the morning crept across his skin, loved him when he was so focused on a project that he didn’t know she was there. It wasn’t just protection, security. Wasn’t filling a void that someone else had left. Her lips twitched, and she sighed, heavily. Her hands stayed wrapped around him, holding him close. Chin shifted against his shoulder.

“Did you hear me?”

Tension mounted and pooled thick in his throat as the atomic spaces between seconds finally brought Malle into his chest. She whispered. He held her close. She loved him. Jacob shut his eyes, felt the sensation of unsteady feet on rolling waters and sea salt and warm sun and light breezes. A feeling overtook him that he hadn’t felt in weeks. In months. In years. A feeling he thought he buried somewhere deep at the bottom of the Atlantic in cold water.

“I need you.” Always--to be near, to be present. Every moment spent together was precious, whether they were laughing or crying or doing nothing at all. Malle was the nicest thing in his life. Not just here in his villa on this island, but everywhere and all the time. A life spent on the sea devoted to his duty as Roman Tulach’s brother, never taking anything for himself, not even his own son. Never stopping to consider what he wanted until he wanted Malle. But even she was out of reach, a princess that grew up outside of her royal family but still beholden to the strict rule of the crown. A princess he put in danger just by having her trapped her, by being seen with her. Suddenly those things didn’t matter as much to him, because he didn’t care about laws or politics or doing what was proper. Jacob only knew he wanted Malle.

Did you hear me? Of course Jacob heard her. She was quiet, like him, but he always listened to what she had to say. His arms tightened around her and he couldn’t let her go, couldn’t speak for a few more seconds. Jacob inhaled the sweet scent of her hair in an audible gasp. Then he whispered: “I love you.”

Jacob has Noah over for “brunch” roughly every other week. He lets Noah make bacon in his house even though Jacob doesn’t eat it, and they drink mimosas because it’s brunch.

GJT: Hey... I want you to know I do care about Malle and I’d never want anything bad to happen to her. I needed the reality check so thanks for that.

GJT: I had a stack of poplar 4x4 and if you fucking took them I will end you

GJT: you’re bambi in my phone now

GJT: sorry not sorry bambi

[2 minutes later]

GJT: so if ghosts exist

GJT: is that proof of the afterlife

He’s.. aware?? Of how cocked-up this is? He made a fairly solid attempt to not roll his eyes. Maddox would ALSO like to be concerned with off-island matters. Like, bringing in money. Stocking the armory. Taking a selfie on a pretty horseshoe shaped beach in Sri Lanka with an equally pretty woman. Or two if he turned on the charm. Three, if he felt greedy..

Mentally digressing. He wanted to be doing his actual job. 

The gunner took a breath and reminded himself Jacob had little control of the situation. And apparently shared some of Maddox’s sentiments. He scoffed. “Sure, I’ll keep playing mall cop. In fact, I just caught a crown prince of Wales nosing around one of the smaller fishing boats. A Glock in the face didn’t faze him.” 

What can they do? A hell of a lot more but he imagined Jacob knew that. “At least separate the troublemakers. Make them aware they are being watched. I can help but can’t exactly do it alone either.” As the captain painted the picture further, Maddox’s lips twisted and his gaze turned to the beach in the far distance. They’re still wanted, dead over alive. They’re still on the island.

He was sure Jacob wanted to reach across the table and throttle him. But he also seemed to understand and quietly echo shared thoughts. After a long silence he looked back to the man and spoke. “I’m sorry. Not trying to ruin your night. Really. Perhaps I’ve held on to this too long.” Long fingers rested on the table and drummed for a few seconds. “Thank you for listening.” 

Another pause. “Aside from our impending doom– you’re alright, right? Is there anything I can help you with? If your captive is making you mental I don’t mind putting them on a project I’ve got going on. To give you a bit of a break.” Maddox treasured silence, being alone with his own thoughts. Hard to do now. It was the only offer aside from the bottle of booze on the table he could make Jacob.

Wales. If Jacob looked lost in thought, buried under the weight of them, the look turned sharply into a focused glare. “Belle’s watching him,” Jacob said. And while he knew Belle was more than capable of the job, he nevertheless felt a twinge of unease that the prince was living in the same villa as his niece. “I’ll get more eyes on the docks. If there’s a royal on the island capable of stealing a boat, then we need to do something about it. As for the troublemakers--I’ll talk to the pirates in charge of them and make sure we’re doing all we can to keep them in check.”

Maddox turned apologetic and Jacob’s expression softened, eyes settling on the other man with a scoff. “You don’t have to apologize, Keyes. What you’re saying isn’t anything I haven’t thought about myself.” There--he could at least admit that. As Roman’s brother and a captain, Jacob had very little room to harbor discontent. Much less voice it. He turned to a drink cart left behind his chair and found another glass, placing it on the table in front of Maddox and pouring some bourbon for him. In a way, Jacob felt a small sense of relief getting the thoughts trapped in his head out in the open to someone who agreed with him. Things he could never say to the two princesses in his life, or Noah, or his crew or his nieces and nephews. Jacob wasn’t sure if the conversation would actually change anything, though.

“Me?” he asked with a short shake of his head. “I’ve been better.” Maddox would think he was absolutely insane for the reason he was drinking tonight. Heartbroken over a princess. Really. Maddox wasn’t here to discuss the low points of his love life, though. “And you?” he countered carefully. His tone darkened a bit. “I heard you and Noah fucked off to Hong Kong right before the fire.”

“Cardoza...” Now Jacob looked away, down at his glass. “I’ve kept her busy enough with projects. I’ll ask her.” It wasn’t the response of a pirate captain in charge of a princess. Jacob didn’t see the Portuguese princess like that anymore. Whatever happened to her in the dungeons broke her and Jacob didn’t see the need to strong arm her, at least for now. He snorted at a new thought. “She says Germany asked her to marry him, so it might be best if we don’t give them any more time together than they already have.”