Cael just let her words spill, everything that had been battling in her mind. She knew she had months to decide but why did it have to be so hard, why did her life have to be like this so unfair. Her tears still continued to fall against her skin, trailing down its paths until interrupted by his hand cupping her cheek. She pressed her face into his hand, the safety of his touch her body craved in that moment. Why? Why did he have to be so kind, why did her mind and heart yearn for him?

Cael continued to ramble, her speech slurred from the mead and because of her emotions, her words jumbling. She couldn’t stop, her mind on full power, that was until she felt his warm breath upon her skin, his nose grazing hers. In a moment his lips pressed softly against hers, silencing her rambles. Her breath hitched in her chest, what was this. It felt so weird, but so good. She didn’t understand.

Her eyes widened as he pulled away, her lips growing cold as the air rushed in between them. Her eyes locked on to him, her mind and heart screaming for more but she made no move, she was still in shock, her mind forgetting all those worries in that moment. Her stomach filled with thousands of butterflies, all fighting to escape as they kept their eye contact.

His words pulled her too, “Now will you please get some rest?” It took a moment but she nodded, “y…yes” she said, the feeling replaying in her mind as he stood there smiling at her. As he stood and walked away to tend to the candle and get on his side, she stared ahead to the wall, she was too drunk to comprehend all of this. She felt him get into bed, the mattress shifting below her, the sheets softly shifting against her skin.

“Goodnight” he said. “Goodnight” she replied, though she did not sleep, her mind and body stayed up for sometime, too shocked and sobered to sleep.

Caeliana stayed awake for a few hours but seemed to sleep, that was until her body succumbed to darkness. The alcohol helped her sleep deep, though she had dreams that night, Pritchard in each and every one of them. She moved softly in her sleep, rolling from time to time and unaware on how close she had moved towards Pritchard's warm body. It was as if this necklace was a magnet, pulling them closer and closer with each and every day.

Pritchard's mind awoke before his body did, the soft rocking of the ship pulling it from slumber. The sound of gentle waves lapping against the ship, friendly chatter from outside the cabin, and soft steady breathing of himself and Cael were the only sounds to be heard. At some point in the night he'd turned over, his arm draping softly over the young siren's form, their bodies much closer together now than how they'd gone to sleep. His face rested above her head, his chin just barely grazing against her golden hair.

His bare chest rose and fell slowly, steadily, with each breath in and out. His eyes were still closed, his body still and comforted too much by the bed to yet rise. His heart beat steadily within, a comforting and rhythmic sound to any close enough to hear it. His mind was awake enough to wander, replaying the events of last night and the past few days. He knew his First Mate would man the ship and the wheel for now, so he wasn't too worried about getting up out of bed just yet.

His thoughts continued to travel, replaying every event from yesterday. Cael's first time free in a town had definitely proved interesting, and he couldn't help but be fond of her. Her innocence to the ways of human life had brought on adventure on a smaller scale; the kind of adventure he wasn't exactly used to. Just the kind of fun he felt as if he'd been missing for so long. Unknowingly stealing a dress, running through the streets, singing and dancing drunkenly with purpose and not just because he wanted to feel something. Bringing her to the cabin and seeing how happy something as simple as a dress and brush made her feel. Never before had the young captain felt the need to care so much for someone else in this way.

He spoiled his crew at times, sure. He let them have their fun, bought them certain things they had their eyes on, allowed them to go into towns as frequently as possible, but it felt...different with Caeliana. There was a spot in his heart that she'd made tender, a spot he thought he had pushed away and out long ago. Thanks to her he was realizing part of himself was still there, just buried beneath the surface of what he'd made himself become.

Pritchard shifted a little, his arm around Cael tightening a little with the movement, his face falling more towards her in his half-asleep state. He breathed in deeply, as if his body was trying to tell him it was time to wake up, but he simply refused to listen. He was comfortable, cozy even, and his eyes wanted to stay shut, feeling as if they were a bit too heavy to open at the moment anyway.

The drinking from the night before was certainly having its consequences, his head throbbing ever so dully with the oncomings of a headache. His mouth felt dry, his throat begging for water, but he was too lazy to stand up and get any.

Pritchard had eventually rolled out of bed, recognizing with a blush how close their bodies had been. Over the course of the next few days and into the following week, things had gone rather smooth. He and Cael got along (for the most part) and the crew seemed more tolerable of her presence and her closeness with their captain.

This evening, Pritchard stood over his desk, head bent down studying over the maps yet again, charting where they were and how far away they were from the real start of their journey. He'd heard muffled yelling from somewhere on deck, but it hadn't pulled him out of his business. That was, until rapid knocking sounded on the cabin door. He'd barely lifted his head before the door swung open, his First Mate stepping quickly inside.

"Oncoming ship," He explained rapidly, out of breath and fear in his eyes. "A large one, she's not flyin' any colors. None except black!" Blackmane instantly made his way out to the wheel, the maps forgotten.

"Man the guns, roll out the canons!" He called from above, his gaze drifting to see the massive ship that had quickly gained on them in their moment of casual stride. The Black Dahlia was a fast ship, her sails black and their flag black and red, but she was no match for the rival. "Drop the anchor on the starboard side!" He gripped the wheel, the sound of canon fire exploding into his ears. Water rushed onto the deck, a lucky miss from the enemy. His men dropped the anchor, and he let go of the wheel, the ship clubhauling around to face the other, lining up side by side.

He spotted Cael rushing up the stairs, his fiery eyes dropping to her as she shouted up at him. "Cael!" He called from up above, his face momentarily contorting into one of fear and shock. "Get the hell inside, what're doing?! Into the cabin, lock yourself there and don't come out till this is done, you understand?" He shouted to her, his chest suddenly tightening, fear and anxiety gripping at his heart. Memories of his nightmare rushed into his mind, and all he could think of was losing her to the canons, her body ripped and torn apart, blood soaking the water. She advanced up the stairs, to which his mind was temporarily eased, thinking she was going to hear his words and obey.

He was wrong.

"No!" He said sternly as she begged to help. "No, absolutely not! Get inside, now." She continued to speak, her plan easy to figure out as more words fell from her lips. "No, no. No! Cael! Caeliana!" He shouted, fear and anger bursting inside of him as she ran back down the steps, shouting orders to the men. He could do nothing, stuck at the wheel and unable to move. "CAEL!!" He shouted again, his voice booming, drowned out by canon fire, his form briefly lighting up in an orange glow as another shot missed, dousing the crew in salty waves. He watched helplessly from above as she dove into the black depths, her form disappearing quickly below the surface. His amber eyes scanned rapidly over his crew and the waves, his commands now would go unheard.

Some of the men had ran to the railing of the ship in attempts to stop her, their hands now grasping on for dear life. All fire from their end had ceased, the waves violently rocking the ship. Pritchard desperately scanned the roiling water, searching for her shimmering scales to no avail.

Suddenly, it was as if the only thing he could hear was her voice, drifting over everything. The sounds of canons muted, even the sounds of the ocean and waves seemed to drown out, her lure calling out amongst both ships. "No!!" He screamed, his voice faltering. He let go of the wheel, sending the ship rocking to the side for a moment as it spun, the anchor thankfully holding it mostly in place for the time being. His boot steps flew down the stairs, his hands grabbing the men in his way and violently tossing them aside to make room for himself as he made way to the railing. Fire from the other ship ceased, leaving Caeliana's voice to ring even louder.

He desperately looked around his crew, his eyes wide with fear, unaware that the necklace around his neck was glowing softly. Most of the crew had found something, anything to block out her song, but some of them had been too late. "No! Stop!" He found himself sprinting towards the stern, his hands clasping onto his First Mate as the man called out to the siren. "Kendrick, man, pull yourself together, plug your ears, come on!" It seemed as if all of Pritchard's strength and might to pull his friend away from the edge did nothing. Kendrick called out again, diving into the water, the roiling waves immediately closing over his head, sending him to the black oblivion. Pritchard spun around, frantic as he noticed several more of his men leaping into the waves. "Stop!!" He cried out, running back over to his place. As soon as they hit the water, their calls of lust and joy turned into screams of shock and fear before their voices were silenced by the watery grave.

It seemed like hours before the enemy was dealt with, every last man aboard gone and lost to the ocean, but it had only been minutes. As soon as the danger had passed, Pritchard's fear seemed to be replaced with boiling anger. "Hoist up her garments!" He commanded, turning his blazing gaze to the men who were left. They did as he said silently, most if not all stunned into silence by grief, anger, and shock. As soon as Cael came back into view, the men helped her up. Pritchard shoved his way between them, visciously grabbing her by both arms and aggressively hauling her body up and onto the deck.

His men gathered in a circle around her, privy to their captain's anger and more than validated in it. They'd lost friends, brothers, good men. Pritchard stood in the center with her, his tall form towering over her as she'd been nearly thrown to the ground by his hand. "Wretch!" He spat, his voice loaded with venom. "You deliberately disobeyed my orders! We've lost men, good men because of your impulses. There was NO reason for them to die from your wretched and vile lure, you could've waited for my command! You could've given a little more time to prepare, or at least have LET me speak to come up with some sort of strategy!!" His voice rose, grief, anger, and the fear of what he'd felt as she dove into the water gripping his chest and clawing at him. "You may have stopped the enemy, but at a cost none of us had to die for!"

Pritchard's anger only burned stronger, the flames growing bigger with each sting of her words. His arrogance and stubborness were winning, refusing to let him see reason as she spoke of what could have happened had she not helped. Flashes of his friends, family, parents...their mangled and smoking corpses burning into his mind at every word. Her slap had come as a shock to not only him but everyone else, but it had only made the flames explode.

Without a second thought or remorse, he fiercly grabbed her arm to yank her back from going any further, a large hand coming forcefully down on her throat just above her collarbone. With deliberate and cruel force, he used that hand around her neck to shove her back against one of the large wooden sail poles, his other hand raising as if to beat her. The sound of guns being drawn and cocked ceased that movement, coming to the realisation that his men were aiming at her to fire. She'd cost the lives of their brothers and friends, and had struck their captain. The punishment for direct treachery and defiance was death, all aboard knew this. A threat to their captain was not tolerated.

His fiery gaze burned into her face, his muscles tense and his anger pushing him to violence. His dark hair fell around his face, his expression a mix of rage and hesitancy. "Hold your fire." He commanded quietly, his voice loaded with venom. His eyes bore into her, not once leaving, but he lowered his fist to his side. His other remained forcefully against her, his mind racing with thoughts of what to do. Everything in him wanted to punish her, to thrust a spear into her for revenge of the loss of his best and most loyal friend. But he knew he could never wish such violent harm on her.

His crew did not fire as per his command, but kept their guns on her, loaded and ready to shoot with a single movement. Pritchard released his hold on her throat, her skin there now red and bruised. He kept his gaze on her, but signaled one of his men. He moved, grabbing her soaking dress and handing it to the captain. Pritchard tossed it somewhat aggressively at her, the large, heavy material momentarily covering her naked form.

"Lower your guns," He said to his crew. They did so hesitantly. The young pirate landed a sturdy hand onto her shoulder, guiding her through the group of men and standing behind her so they would not stare longer at her exposed body than needed. He walked with her up the steps and into the cabin, shutting the door behind them as soon as they stepped foot fully inside. He took the wet dress from her, draping it over a shelf and digging through old crates. He pulled out some dry and washed clothing of his own: a large white long sleeved shirt. That alone would be enough to cover her momentarily, the shirt's length falling just past her buttocks near upper-mid thigh.

Pritchard was silent as he draped it over her, helping slip her arms inside the sleeves. His touch was still rough, but infinitely more gentle than it had been just a few moments prior. He was stewing in his emotions, replaying her words over and over in his mind, but he didn't like how angry and violent he'd been towards her.

Her challenge for him to kill her had granted nothing but a twitch from his expression, his anger and inner turmoil silencing him from any words other than commands to his crew.

Once inside the cabin he turned away from her at her command to not touch her, his steps leading him to the rum cabinet out of habit. He'd popped the cork and had just begun to drink, the sharp liquid hitting his throat as her questions rang from across the room. He lowered the bottle, his eyes still glittering with dangerous intent, although he no longer would attempt to act on it. He glanced down, seeing the dull glow of the pendent around his neck, which was now pulsing as it faded. He had been so caught up in the emotions of what she'd done and the events that he hadn't even considered the lack of the effect of her song. He hadn't even attempted to plug his ears, too frightened and angry to have done so in the moment.

"That just makes it all the more tragic then, does it not?" He finally spoke, downing a good chunk of the liquid before setting the bottle down onto his desk, his gaze unable to meet her for several moments. "I survive your wretched lures, but Kendrick gets to vanish beneath the surface for it. All because I brought you on board." His first mate had been a loyal and close friend since Pritchard's arrival to the crew. He'd been a wise and kind soul, the one to guide and lead him to the position he now held today. He finally shifted his gaze back to her, most of the anger gone and replaced by grief...and fear.

"I'm sorry for hurting you, but I feel my anger is more than justified." He said, hsi brows furrowed lightly and his slender face riddled with tension. "We may have lost men in the fight, sure, but this wasn't the first time we've come upon a bigger and more dangerous crew than us, Cael." His voice started to rise again, but not near to the level it had been before. "Do you think I've spent all my life at sea just willy nilly sailing on smooth waters? I've survived this long because I know how to. My crew has survived much bigger battles than that because we have done it before. This ship is smaller, but she's faster than most. One of the fastest in the seas. I had a plan. We would have been fine. Their canons had missed more than one shot, they were clumsy and messy!" He stepped towards her slowly, his heart hammering in his chest. "Why do you think my name is so infamous among these waters? Because I've spent nearly a decade of my life sinking ships just like THAT one!" He tossed an arm towards the window, moonlight pouring into the dimly candlelit cabin. "If some of my men were to die in battle at least they would have died with honor!" His voice faltered for a moment, the sting of tears threatening to brim his eyes.

"Instead they've lost their lives in vain, to a wretched lure and song that could have been so easily avoided if you had just LISTENED TO ME!" The young captain's anger was slowly building again, grief and rage battling with one another inside his chest.

Pritchard fell silent at her words, taking the bite and sting. It was true, he had acted just as vile as every other man she'd come in contact with. "Cael," He said, his voice stern yet soft, wavering slightly. She continued to speak, telling him he'd made her feel like a monster and that she was just going to leave. "Cael, no." He spoke more harshly, his hand reaching out once more to grab her, to stop her from exiting the cabin. Only this time...although his grip was firm...it was not nearly one of as much violence or aggression. He stepped in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders and lightly stepping her back into the cabin wall, his bright amber gaze intensely focused on her.

Thoughts raced through his mind, adrenaline, frustration, grief, and fear all tumbling inside of him. And buried beneath all of that...was what he could only describe to be love. A deep-rooted care that had been the driving force behind every strong wave of emotion, every strong wave of violence had come from his care for her. He simply had absolutely no clue how to control those emotions, and had never had to deal with the conflict or struggle of falling in love. Love made him feel weak, sick, and it only hightened every other emotion he already struggled with.

Although it seemed like ages were passing, it was only a few seconds. Her words were running over and over in his mind, scenes from earlier flashing by rapidly. Motivated by passion and a sense of hightened lust he hadn't even recognized to be there, he moved without thinking at all. He wanted her to stop talking, to stop her words from allowing him to face his emotions. With little to no room between them, his lips pressed to hers in a deep, heated kiss. He let a hand slip around her wrist, his fingers entwining with hers to prevent her from potentially slapping him again. His other snaked around the nape of her neck, cupping her close as his eyes fluttered closed.

This time he let their kiss linger, pressing his body to hers against the wall, his heart suddenly craving as much of her as possible. Everything about her, even the shit that pissed him off, had all just drawn him to her in a moment of heated passion. Their emotions were running hot and rampant, and his feelings for her that had been building over the past couple of weeks were finally trying to break free, taking advantage of his weakest moments.

His lips finally parted from hers, his eyes lidded as he peered down into her face, his nose nearly brushing against hers as he spoke through wavering, whispered words. "Not all treasure is silver and gold, Cael." He moved in again, as if he wanted to lock his lips with hers once more, but hesitated, the tears he'd been holding back finally brimming at his eyes.

"You know how scared I was to lose you?" He said, almost through gritted teeth, as if he wanted nothing more than to choke back the emotions he was feeling and to keep letting them lie dormant. He wanted to keep lying to himself, to keep pushing every care of her down and lock it away forever. His breath quivered slightly, his fingers traveling further up into her soft, golden hair, her tear stained skin glistening in the candle light. "I haven't felt fear like that since..." He trailed off, biting back the words. He wanted nothing to do with those memories. "Not in a long time. I never intend to feel that way ever again. That's why I...god, you make me so fucking angry." His grip on her tightened, a few tears slipping out against his will as he pressed his forehead softly to hers. Despite what he'd just said, he didn't feel anger AT her. It was more directed at himself, furious that he was no longer in control of his emotions, horrified at the fact that he'd let the fear of losing her control him so fiercely.

"I'd rather see my ship at the bottom of the ocean, than to see you ripped apart by canon fire..." He whispered, his voice finally breaking.