The young captain has heard his name being spoken, but had made no attempt to move. He'd had unsettling dreams before, but nothing like this in many years. It was a trauma he'd forced himself to forget, not wanting to dwell on the horrors he'd seen that day and just to move on to better times. For awhile he'd succeeded, but now...

His eyes fluttered closed as he felt her cool touch upon his hand, and he tried to slow and steady his breathing as he heard the soft hum of her voice in his ears. Her voice was soothing, soft, and inviting, eliciting a feeling from deep within him to erupt in his chest. A warm, tingling, feeling he remembered from so long ago. It was a sense of comfort that only his mother had been able to bring him when he was a young boy, a feeling he'd had ripped away from him in a violent and sudden manner. His heart began to slow, his breathing becoming more steady, but at the cost of a tear slipping from his eye and rolling slowly down his cheek.

He sat still and silent for a few moments just listening to her voice and reveling in the warmth her presence had brought him. Finally, he gently adjusted the hand on his chest, softly entwining his fingers with hers. His eyes opened once more, glistening with the threat of more tears as he shifted his gaze to her face. His hair fell loosely, dark curles framing his face as he looked at her moonlit frame. For a moment he could not speak, simply overridden with emotions he couldn't place, perhaps some he didn't want to acknowledge. He moved their entwined hands upwards along his chest until they rested upon the pendent of her necklace. His free hand slowly reached up, his breath ever so slightly hitching in his throat as he softly cupped her face. His fingers brushed lightly around the back of her neck into her hair, her golden waves soft and comforting to the touch.

Another warm tear found its way from his eye, trickling softly down until dropping to the floor. "Thank you," He finally spoke, his voice just a whisper. Not only was it thanks for her gesture just now, but a thanks for her actions earlier as well. She had prevented their ship from going under, saved him from a similar fate to his past. His heart thrummed within his chest, it's pulse able to be felt within their hands. His fiery eyes for once held something other than lust or greed as he looked up at her, his expression one of gratitude and admiration.

A few moments of hesitation passed between them, his heart only continuing to pound, before he firmed his grasp on her, gently and slowly bringing her face down to his. He let his eyes flutter closed once more, pressing his forehead lightly to hers. Her golden hair fell in waves around his chest, brushing lightly against his skin.

Pritchard wanted nothing more in that moment than to hold onto her, or more rather the feeling that she'd awakened within him. He hadn't realized until now how much he'd truly missed the soft touch and comfort, the warmth of care. As his thoughts wandered, they brought him back into the moment, his hand on her loosening. As expected, she pulled away from him, their hands parting and the warmth of her comfort vanishing in an instant. His eyes opened as the chill of air rushed between them again, his amber gaze looking at her when she spoke.

'Am I okay?' He questioned to himself, taking a deep breath through his nose and releasing it slowly. He swallowed back the lump that had formed in his throat, his eyes still threatening the sting of tears. "I'm..." He began, about to say that he was fine. He hesitated again, his mind racing with confusion at everything he was feeling. He removed his legs from atop the desk, letting his boots fall quietly to the floor as he turned his chair to face her fully. "I don't know..." He confessed after a moment, his voice low and rumbling. It wasn't often he showed vulnerablity to people, much less a stranger, even less a strange woman who just so happened to be a creature of the deep infamous for dragging men to their watery graves. He looked away briefly, his mind recalling the events of his dream, and the events of the storm just hours prior.

"You just...I don't understand you," He finally said, his amber pools flitting back to her. "You save my ship, my men, my crew...you save me. When you could have easily watched the ship go down. You could have let us all drown, and pried your trinket from my lifeless body yet you chose to let me live." He paused, his breath hitching again for a moment or two. "Then you...you choose to come to me in a moment of privacy and weakness...you could have easily ignored my unease and left yourself to get the rest you need. Or you could have killed me, taken your trinket and left. Why? Why do any of that, why help me?"

Everything she had done so far was the exact opposite of what he would have chosen to do if their roles were reversed. "It was just a silly dream, a nigh terror I haven't had in years, nothing more." He said with a shake of his head and a glance away, his eyes drifting towards the cabinet of rum bottles. After a moment or two of hesitation, he rose to his feet, walking slowly over and grabbing one, popping off the cork. He wanted nothing more than to forget that nightmare. The terror that had gripped his heart so strongly.

He took a swig, the bite of it strong. Good. "You also confuse me because of how you make-- made me feel." He quickly corrected. "I haven't felt like that in a long time, much less by a 'woman' such as yourself." He began to walk towards her, setting the drink on his desk before approaching her closely, his tall slender form standing above her, his chin tilted down to peer into her beatiful face. "You told me your siren song did not work in this form," He said again, reiterating the conversation they had earlier that evening. Only this time, his tone was not one of anger nor confusion. His voice was soft, low, methodically rumbling and perhaps even sultry as he grew closer still. He came to a stop just a couple of feet from her, close enough that she may feel the warmth of his body next to hers.

"And yet again...here I find myself in quite the predicament." A soft and slightly flirtatious smirk played loosely at the corner of his lips, his fiery eyes alight like flame. "I cannot be convinced otherwise that your voice has done something to me. Or perhaps...you have." He reached calmly above their heads, resting a hand on the wooden rails above the bed. "Prove me wrong..." His voice rumbled just above a whisper.

A similar sense of frustration washed over him yet again as she told him the same thing as before, claiming her voice had truly done nothing, and that she didn't kill for fun like others did. He said nothing, continuing to let her speak, to hear her words and take them to heart. If she was telling the truth about everything, he wasn't sure if that made things better or worse. He could deal with her if she was lying, but if she was speaking god honest truth...what did that mean for him?

He remained close to her, his eyes burning into her as she opened her mouth to sing once more, her voice quiet and soft, filled with as much beauty as the rest of her. His brows furrowed slightly, frustration and a bit of fear building within his chest. He knew she was not lying, he knew things would be much different if her song was to have been true. His breath hitched slightly within his throat, unwilling to admit aloud that his feelings were not coming from any sort of power she held. He refused to believe them to be what he thought. Infatuation? Perhaps. Anything more? Strictly impossible and forbidden.

Just as before, although her songs had no affected him in the way a siren's song should, he still felt a warm sensation bubbling within his chest. His gaze flitted downwards into her face, his expression for the moment unreadable, although there was a hint of stubborn irritation within the tension along his jaw. He was silent for a few moments, debating on if there was any argument he could make, anything he could say to validate himself and his feelings...but there was nothing.

For the first time, he felt a strange heat against his chest, burning only slightly into his skin where the pendent sat resting. It caused his skin to prickle, the hair along the nape of his neck rising. He reached a hand upwards to rest on it, his gaze flitting momentarily downwards at it before looking back at her. He decided against questioning her, a little afraid that she wouldn't know the answer of why anyway. Perhaps it was just his mind playing tricks, afterall it had faded now. He lightly shook his head, letting out a small sigh.

"Alright," He finally said, giving up. He ran a hand through his hair, backing up from her a little. He wanted nothing more than to just be rid of whatever this feeling was he had burning within him. What about her was so addicting and comforting? "I believe you." He turned, walking towards his desk to take another big drink, wishing he understood. He looked back over at her, her pretty form bathed in the cool light of the moon, a soft warm glow barely highlighting her from the embers of the fire.

His heart fluttered then sank, a feeling he tried to push away. "Listen, Cael," He started softly, slowly walking back towards her, although this time he remained a respectful distance. "I'm...I'm sorry for what you've been through, truly, I am. I believe you to speak truth. But...but don't feel inclined to help men like me." He felt his throat hitch a little. "I may not intend to harm you, but I'm not worthy at all of your protection, grace, or pity. Whatever your damn trinket seems to think." He added on with a slight chuckle, a teasing glint in his warm, flickering eyes. "You should get some rest." He gently reached out, taking a single of her small hands into one of his, bringing it softly to his lips in a respectful kiss.

The young captain didn't want to believe her words, much less take them as compliments. He truly did not feel worthy to deserve such grace. No matter whatever kindess he'd done her, that did not wipe his slate clear of the numerous wicked deeds he'd committed over the years. One good deed was not enough to redeem a man from a lifetime of wickedness.

"Magic or not," He began softly, "You know not of the horrors I've committed." In his amber gaze there was a flicker of honest shame, guilt over his past atrocities making itself known. He'd played a part in truly unspeakable acts, whether he'd intended to or not, and that much could not be denied. He looked at her for another moment, listening as she spoke of how she just wanted her life back. He hesitated only briefly before guiding her hand back to his chest, purposefully brushing her fingers along the shining blue pendent. His gaze stayed focused on her, unable to tear it away. "You will," He rumbled softly. "I can promise you that much."

His stubble brushed lightly against her skin as he'd kissed her hand, her fingers dropping away from his as he'd let go, beginning to turn away back to his chair. He grabbed the bottle of opened rum that he'd set on his desk, lifting it to his lips and drinking some more. Maybe if he drank enough he could pass out and sleep comfortably through the night with no further nightmares or unsettling dreams. Perhaps he could also forget that this odd closeness between them had ever happened.

Her voice reached his ears once more, and he set the glass bottle down with a soft clink. He kept his back to her for now, listening to what she had to say. Her offer of sharing the bed sent a shiver tingling down his spine, the implications ever present in his mind despite her intentions. He was a promiscuous soul by nature, so the simple suggestion was enough to make him prickle with desire, no matter how small. But recognizing she did not mean it in that way, his shoulders relaxed. He turned to face her, his eyes drifting over her form as he debated.

He glanced over at his chair and that godforsaken desk, remembering how the discomfort of it felt against his muscles and poked awkwardly against his bones. Wordlessly, he walked over to her in a silent gesture of acceptance. He lightly gestured his hand in a motion for her to crawl in first, before sitting on the edge of the mattress. He pulled off his boots, not wanting to stain the sheets with their grime. He had bathed himself in town earlier, so he was much less dirty than he'd been in the past, and the rain had also done him many favors. He waited until she'd rolled over away from him before slipping his shirt off over his head, discarding it loosely onto the wooden floor.

It would be a tight fit, but it was not the first time he'd shared a bed. He could manage just fine. He cast one more look over his shoulder at her before slipping into the sheet, quickly enveloping into darkness.

____________________________________________________

A few days later...

After the big storm their first night, the rest of their days had been clear and calm, the sky and sea aiding them in their voyage. Pritchard stood at the wheel, his old and worn compass in his hand, open to the sky. The small red arrow flickered, keeping him steady in the direction needed traveled. The men below were calm, some doing their chores while others lazed about with one another.

"Just a few hours we'll be pulling into Tunstead," His voice carried to Caeliana. "We'll make port there, run into town and have a few drinks, grab some more supplies." He carefully adjusted the wheel, keeping them on course. The skies were clear, and for once the heat had died down, a chilly breeze ruffling through his hair.

"I'll keep with you if that's alright with you, lass," He said, flashing her a teasing grin. "If you need anythin' to buy I'll toss a few pretty coins your way." He winked playfully at her before turning his attention back to the waters ahead.

Cael sighed softly as they laid side by side, her back to his form. His body instantly heated the air and the sheets they shared, a welcoming warmth that she had never felt before. Slowly she began to drift back to slumber, her dreams once more absent, just darkness. Throughout the rest of the night the two slept separately and on their own respective sides of the bed. Though Cael had flipped over, facing him, one arm rested under her head the other outstretched ever so slightly. Her fingers rested just barely grazing the skin of his arm. The night was still long enough to get a good amount of rest, the following day holding a new adventure.

-A Few Days Later-

Cael had been in a deep sleep still by the time Pritchard awoke, her small frame engulfed in the sheets and blankets peacefully. Her body did not want to get up, to leave the comforts she had felt for the first time. Pritchard had been up and ready for about an hour before she woke, her eyes greeting an empty room. Slowly she raised herself from the bed, a small yawn leaving her lips as she stood. She fixed the way the clothes sat on her body, brushing a strand of hair back as she made her way towards the door. She was greeted by the bright sunlight, the sound of men chattering and of course Pritchard standing at the wheel.

“Good Morning” she spoke softly as she excited, the sun shining against her skin as she made it to his side, looking out over the crew below. The men worked well together, some singing tunes and others joking around, it was quite the change for her to see these men at work rather than their lustful looks due to her voice.

Cael looked to Pritchard as he explained the plans, going into town for supplies and what not, a dropping feeling in her stomach. “Are you sure I should go?” She asked. She was nervous, unaware of the world behind the sea. She had no clue how to act, speak, nothing. What if someone somehow recognized her? It was almost impossible but what if. Pritchard had reassured her she would be fine, of course tossing in a bit of his teases as well. Cael gave him her signature glare before she turned to make her way back inside. She was starving, and had learned to love the fruit that humans ate, she loved her apples.

A few hours had passed and they finally could see the port in view. The men below got to their positions, ready to dock. One man had fetched a long coat for Cael, something a bit more concealing than the oversized coat and pants. Her heart pounded in her chest, the fastest it ever had. She was terrified that something would go wrong, hell the last time she was on land she was being sold. What if Pritchard changed his mind?

Cael watched all the men work together, docking the ship and preparing for descent. Cael stayed quiet and by Pritchard’s side the whole time, she felt more comfort with him now then any other man or being alone. As they walked the streets her curious mind wandered, looking at all the goods. Produces, textiles, spice, tools you name it this place had it.

Minutes were passing quickly, especially as Pritchard explained everything for her. What items were, what they needed to, anything that she did not know. He had excused himself to speak to a man of business when Caeliana had stepped off. Her small frame made it easy to slip through the town, disappearing within the crowds. She looked around some more before finding a dress shop. She was so surprised, everything was so beautiful. She stepped inside, running her fingers over the fabric, taking in all the details.

"Morning," Pritchard said in reply as Cael emerged from the cabin. His eyes briefly wandered over her, noticing the way her skin shimmered in the sun. Silently, he admired it. "Of course you should go." He answered her, turning his gaze away to look down at the crew for a minute, just to observe. "You'll be with me, there's nothing to worry about." He was an infamous soul among these waters despite his young age. Known as 'Blackmane' by any who'd had the misfortunes of encountering the Black Dahlia while flying under his colors. He was not a captain strictly run by violence, but his record wasn't clear of it, either. Sending ships and sailors into the black oblivion of Jones' Locker, raiding merchant coastal towns on the outskirts of large kingdoms, leading more than one royal navy to their deaths while in pursuit of him, and disappearing without a trace were only some of the stories spread about him.

Most islands or towns he decided to make port in were towns full of people who dared not try their luck with him or hs crew, so if Cael stayed by his side she would have nothing to fear.

The hours went by quickly, and as the port began to come into view, Pritchard began his command. He instructed the men as he always did, keeping his hand steadily on the wheel. His compass clicked shut and fell back to its place on his hip. "Alright you filty buggards, you have till sundown! Grab as many supplies as you can afford, have a drink, get yourself some pleasurable company, and have a jolly good time while we're here this evening!"

As they entered the town, Pritchard made sure to stay close by Cael for a good while. He walked her through the busy streets, showing her things of importance and explaining what certain goods or items were and what they were used for. He took them to a merchant stand full of jewelry and other items, and was patient as he let her look at all of them. "Whatever you like you can have, just point it out," He told her kindly, his voice uncharacteristically soft and warm. "Go on, you can pick more than one." After she'd secured her items, he dropped several silver coins into the merchant's hands, offering his thanks and walking away.

He also bought her some fruit for a snack as they walked through the streets. The young captain turned his attention to a businessman standing on the corner, walking over to him to speak. It was at this moment he hadn't realized Cael slipping away from him, disappearing quickly into the crowds. He and the man exchanged many words, speaking of life in the city and how things have changed since last time he made port. It must have been over ten minutes of chatting before Pritchard finally secured from him what he'd come over for; a pretty golden painted hairbrush with small blue gems encrusted into the handle. He thanked the man for his time and business, before turning to face his companion only to find her gone.

A look of panic washed over his face for a moment, and he slipped the expensive brush into his satchel as he looked around. His amber eyes swept the crowds, his heart beginning to pick up its pace. Where was she? Had she wandered off or had she been taken? Was she hurt? Kidnapped?

"Cael," He said, his voice coming out a bit quieter at first. "Cael?" He repeated, taking a few steps away from the corner and more into the streets. "Cael! Caeliana!" Worry and fear began to creep into his chest as he stepped fully into the busy streets, his eyes sweeping the crowds as he searched for the young siren.