Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Upon a Painted Ocean ❯ After the Storm ( Chapter 2 )

Upon a Painted Ocean

Chapter 2: After the Storm

Two and two make …

The whisper of cloth gliding against polished wood.

And two and two make …

A rustling of fabric caused by hurried motions.

And two and two make …

The dull thump of his books as they were repositioned on his shelf.

And two and … Damn!

Ran dropped his quill and gave up the miserable pretense of trying to work. He was distracted, plain and simple, although trying to convince his rational mind of that fact seemed almost impossible. After all, he never got distracted, and if he did, it wouldn't be by the quiet, enigmatic brunette who was cleaning his cabin at the moment. Casually leaning forward, the young captain placed an elbow on his desk and tiredly leaned his head onto his supportive hand. His gaze traveled across the candlelit room to linger guiltily on his most recent acquisition: tousled, brown hair framed a decidedly elegant, yet strong, face, its planes and angles deceptively sharpened by the flickering illumination, and thereby heightening the sense of mystery that already surrounded the man. He was still wearing the pants that Ran had seen him in two days ago but in addition to that, Ken now wore a loose, tan vest. It was a practical choice considering the sweltering Caribbean heat, but it also served to highlight the young man's athletic physique, the worn leather hanging and molding to him in just the right places and accentuating his nicely sculpted arms.

<To hell with the account books> Ran thought uncharacteristically and continued to watch his new crewman clean the cabin. The former slave's movements were quick and efficient, yet still possessed a modicum of grace and poetry that constantly managed to steal Ran's breath away. He didn't know where this whimsical impulsiveness had come from, and if he had been in his usual logical frame of mind, he might have even questioned and quelled it. But at this very moment, his usual self appeared to have deserted him, as it seemed wont to do when Ken was around.

It had been two days now … two days since they had left port, … and two days of being in this man's magnetic presence. They had barely spoken and what few words had been exchanged between the two amounted to nothing more than the requisite orders from a captain to a crewman. Silence had been a third companion when the two of them were together and normally, Ran would've found this to be more than sufficient, but for some undefined reason, he wanted to see a little more personality, a little more life from the quiet man.

All too soon, Ken finished and turned to look at the captain for either further orders or permission to leave. Ran sat up, surprised with the fact that he'd spent so long staring and had forgotten his position on the ship. He looked into the wary brown depths of the other man's eyes, still intrigued by the world of secrets that lay buried there.

"How do you like the ship?" The question slipped out before Ran had a chance to stop it. A captain does not start up casual conversation with his crewman while on duty, and he definitely does not allow anyone to distract him from his responsibilities, at least by Ran's set of rules. But clearly, those rules had been easily broken.

"Well enough," came Ken's soft reply.

<Well enough> Ran repeated in his head. He had expected, … no, he had wanted a little more enthusiasm from the brunette. Well enough, indeed. Ran had put his whole life into the Redemption and to simply say 'well enough' was an insult to the personal pride he carried for his ship. And inexplicably, when those words had come out of Ken's mouth, Ran had felt strangely inadequate, as if his entire life's work hadn't meant anything to the former slave.

With no forthcoming order from the captain, Ken spoke again. "Will that be all, Captain?"

Ran snapped out of his shallow reverie and turned his attention back to the man standing before him. Impassive dark eyes stared back.

"Stay for a drink with me?"

For a fleeting moment, Ran could have sworn he saw a flicker of insecurity and hesitation on the brunette's face. But all too quickly, the deceivingly submissive disposition was once again reinstated.

"Is that an order, Captain?"

The redhead felt a small smile tug at his lips. "No, an invitation."

Ken looked away. "Then I will decline."

Ran should have been insulted, affronted even that someone should refuse his offer. But oddly enough, he wasn't. He could have easily ordered Ken to stay, but it would have been an empty victory. He finally saw it now, the mysterious man who stood before him. He saw him now for what he really was - a challenge. Ran fought hard to keep the amused grin from showing on his expressionless face.

"Very well then," Ran acceded. He stood up and slowly made his way to the window. His cabin was positioned beneath the quarterdeck and thus, he had allowed himself the luxury of windows, which gave him an unobstructed view of the endless ocean. It was a soothing sight, and one that he took in quite often. He stared out at the dark velvet of the night sky, his thoughts still focused on the man standing behind him.

"Go tell Kit to batten down the hatches. Looks like a storm approaching."

"Yes, Captain."

Ran heard some muffled shuffling followed by the click of a closing door. He now stood alone in the room and it was only then that he let the smile form on his lips.

A challenge … the young captain felt something inside him stir with anticipation. Yes, Ken was a challenge, and if there was one thing Ran never backed away from, it was the thrill of meeting and overcoming a difficult challenge.

(***)

Ken felt the tension leave his body as soon as he closed the door behind him. He always tended to stiffen up whenever he was near the captain, which made the redhead immensely uncomfortable just to be around. Those violet eyes knew too much, saw too much, and Ken would just as well not dig up any buried secrets if he could help it. Yet, even now, he could still feel those piercing eyes on him, assessing him, reading him, burning into him. He had been aware of the redhead's gaze just moments ago, following his every movement in that room with an almost unbearable intensity. But he had ignored it - or at least, had tried his best to - just like he had ignored the heated atmosphere that seemed to surround him and the captain whenever they were together.

Forcing the disturbing thoughts of the captain aside, Ken made his way on deck in search of the first mate. There was a definite humidity in the air that could only portend to an approaching storm. Ken felt the warm wind whip against his exposed skin and thus, picked up his pace as he ventured further onto the deck. He squinted at the dark figures that scampered by on the poorly lit nightscape, the moon apparently ensconced behind threatening clouds and the lanterns stubbornly refused to remain burning in wake of the wind.

Unable to find Kit near the bow, Ken turned to look elsewhere and accidentally bumped into another crewman. Taking a steadying step back, Ken mumbled a quiet apology before he tried to walk around the other man.

"Well, if it ain't the new kid. So how's the captain's new boy doing?" The question was asked good-humouredly, no insult or rude insinuation in the man's tone at all. In fact, Ken had been taken aback by how friendly the crew had been, at least for a band of pirates. Although he'd been new to the ship, this group of ragtag misfits had subtly welcomed him aboard, instantly dubbing him the 'captain's boy' when they had heard about how the captain had demanded that Kit buy him, and patiently answered his inquiries until he'd learned his way around. Granted, there had been the requisite cussing and obscene gestures to overlook but Ken took that all in stride. All in all, these men were sailors, and being such hadn't exactly refined them in the area of proper deportment. However, what still stood out in Ken's mind was the absolute loyalty and reverence these men had for their captain; many, if not all, would undoubtedly die for the man.

Ken even recalled the day before when a deckhand had approached him and said how he'd never seen the captain so taken with anyone and that the crew was relieved to see that the usually reserved redhead was human after all. It had taken a while before Ken realized whom the other man was referring to and when he did, he brushed the fact off as a gross misjudgment on the part of the crew.

The brunette stared at the tall, muscled figure in front of him, sifting through the plethora of names he'd had to remember. It wasn't long before the name came to mind, along with a spurt of amusement. "I'm fine. Have you seen Kit, Tippy?" At first, Ken had wondered how such a large man had ended up with an odd name, but when Kit had told him about the man's affection for rum, it had become all too clear.

Tippy jerked his thumb to point behind him. "Over there, doing something with the sails."

Ken nodded his thanks and headed off in the indicated direction, once again feeling a harsh gust of wind pelt against his body as he made his way across the deck.

It didn't take long for Ken to locate the first mate once he knew where to look. With Kit's short stature and moderately wide girth, the brunette easily picked the man out amid the other sailors who were helping him mend a sail.

With an instinct honed from years at sea, Kit looked up at Ken, as if sensing the younger man's presence.

"What is it, Kid?" Kit asked as he shuffled over to Ken, leaving the other men to finish up what he'd been doing.

Ken nodded in greeting. "The captain says we should secure everything for the approaching storm."

The first mate grunted in agreement. "I'm working on it. I've already sent men to secure the hatches and to ready the sails." He looked up at the ominous sky, the dark clouds pregnant with rain that threatened to fall at any moment. "Looks like a bad one," Kit muttered. As if on cue, a crash of thunder filled the air, its ensuing echo loud enough to cause a frisson of uneasiness to run down Ken's spine.

"Hey Kid, I want you to go down to the hold and secure the cargo," Kit ordered, his eyes becoming distracted now by the suddenness with which the storm was going to hit. "It's here sooner than I thought."

"Yes, sir." Ken nodded in acknowledgement and hastily made his way down to the hold. He hated it down there, its dark and claustrophobic confines reminding him too much of his time as a slave, but an order was an order, and in this case, it was crucial that it be followed. Swallowing the sense of dread lodged in his throat, Ken cautiously descended the stairs, half expecting to smell the stench of unwashed bodies and untainted terror with each step he took. He despised fear. He despised how it transformed the strong into the weak. He despised how it inevitably brought down even the bravest man. But that didn't stop memories from assaulting him, flooding his mind with the incessant cries of human suffering and despair that tore at his soul.

Ken could feel his own heartbeat quicken as beads of sweat trickled down his face, the rhythmic tattoo sounding too loud to be held in the confines of his chest. He took a deep breath of stale air and forced himself to hurry down the rest of the way, fighting against the gruesome images that flittered before his eyes. Swiftly and efficiently, he lit the lantern hanging by the foot of the stairs and surveyed the crates. Not wanting to know - and not caring - what was in them, he tightened any loose bindings he found and ensured that everything had been secured properly. Before long, he had completed his task and breathed a sigh of relief as he made his way back to the stairs.

All of a sudden, the ship lurched violently, sending Ken to the floor and his lantern crashing to the floorboards. Dazed by the fall, it took a moment before he managed to regain his senses and his breath, but when he did, he quickly moved to blow out the lantern and sprint up the steps. If that had been an indication of the strength of the storm, then it was severe indeed.

Ken arrived on deck to see chaos, the massive forces of wind and rain making tiny playthings of the mere mortals who had dared to frolic at sea. Men were uneasily slipping around on deck, trying to secure and fasten what they could as shouts were futilely yelled, laden with orders that were drowned out by the roaring ocean. Rivulets of rain ran unchecked down Ken's face and thunder echoed in his ears as the heavens once again decided to remind him of just how insignificant man was in the vast scheme of things. Ken whipped his head around, wondering what he could do to help the ship stay afloat.

And that was when he saw 'him'. A flash of lightning illuminated his imposing figure in a brief, eerie glow as the captain barked orders from the quarterdeck, his expression calm yet forceful in the face of adversity. Ken stood frozen for a moment, and felt his breath catch in his throat, awed by the presence of the man who was in charge of this ship. Like a warrior out of Greek mythology, Ran commanded his men with a charisma that belied a will of steel, and in that instance, Ken began to understand why these men were willing to die for their captain; although he'd only known the man for two days, deep down, Ken suspected he felt the same.

Just then, Ran's eyes fell on him and Ken sensed the piercing gaze penetrate deep into his core. Lightning flashed once more as the two shared an eternal moment in time. All too soon, Ran turned away, his attention needed elsewhere, but in that one brief look, Ken had felt something inexplicably comforting spread through his soul.

'It'll be okay,' those violet eyes had said, causing the residual fear from the hold and the uneasy apprehension from the storm disappear like a wisp of smoke. Yes, he now understood why the men would willingly give up their lives for this man - he would too.

Snapping out of his trance, Ken quickly moved his body into action. Half running and half sliding on the slippery deck, Ken managed to grab a hold of the mast as the ship hit a nasty swell, sending many others off their feet. Letting his instincts take over, he found a stray length of rope near his feet, and deftly tied one end around the mast and the other around his waist. All the while, he blinked rapidly to keep the water out of his eyes as his hands were otherwise occupied.

That done, Ken glanced around to see if his help was required anywhere else, but the crew seemed efficient enough to take care of the crucial duties. He then saw Kit clinging onto the ship portside as he tried to keep another man from being thrown overboard.

<Foolish old man!> Ken thought angrily to himself. <You'll fall over yourself!> As if hearing his mental comment, the ship lurched wildly, sending Kit helplessly to the boards and precariously close to the edge. If the ship hit another severe swell, the man would fall over. Reacting almost instantly, and grateful for the slack he'd given the rope, Ken ran toward the fallen first mate and wrapped his arms around the older man just as a large wave tipped the ship almost onto its side. Ken hung onto Kit with all his might, and let out only a small pained exclamation when the rope dug deep into his ribs.

Thunder cracked, winds blew, rain pelted, and Ken could feel his body shout in protest from the abuse. But he closed his eyes and tightened his hold, whispering a prayer to whatever god was listening, and waiting out the wrath of Nature's fury with the meager strength of a mortal.

(***)

The predawn greyness was all the illumination Ran had when he finally managed to survey the damage to his ship. He walked slowly around the deck, skirting by fallen debris and men who were efficiently cleaning up the mess. He let out a silent sigh of relief when his assessment yielded results that weren't too unfavourable. They should be back on course within a day or two.

Ran closed his eyes for a moment, feeling an overwhelming fatigue wash through his body. Yet, he wasn't the only one tired on this ship: every single man had worked as hard as he had - if not more so - the night before, and thus, he couldn't complain. Besides which, he was the captain and had to set an example. Forcing his already strained self into alertness and putting some false energy into his step, he continued to move around the deck and supervise the clean up.

Glancing up at the rigging, he looked away with a satisfied nod when he saw that someone was already up there untangling the sails. Then he froze. Quickly turning his head back, he felt himself unable to breathe when realized 'who' was up there in the intricately woven ropes of the rigging.

Ken.

Ran stood, transfixed as the younger man swung around, rope to rope, and arresting the redhead's heart each time he did so. Ran could taste the bitter mixture of anger and worry on his tongue; he wanted to find the one responsible for putting 'his' Ken up there and yet, was unwilling to leave the brunette unwatched at such a dangerous height.

"He's quite competent, isn't he?"

Ran tore his gaze away from the sails and looked into the approving eyes of his first mate. "Kit, what's he doing up there? I gave no such order!" He was barely able to contain the fury in from his voice.

The older man chuckled, inwardly amused at the captain's rare loss of composure. He turned his eyes up toward the boy and answered the redhead's question calmly. "He volunteered. He knows what he's doing, Captain. The way he moves, the way he learned the ship … he's worked on one before. I know it. And besides, he saved my life last night, which only shows me that he's a good one to have under pressure."

Guilt assaulted Ran as he realized he'd forgotten Kit's recent brush with death. Concerned, his eyes skimmed over the first mate, checking for any apparent injuries. "Are you alright?"

Kit nodded. "No thanks to your new cabin boy. I owe him my life."

Ran returned his gaze up toward the figure dangling dangerously from the rigging, a rush of mixed emotions suddenly coursing through him. Prying his eyes from the brunette, Ran commanded himself to continue with his own duties.

"When he's finished, Kit, send him to me," Ran ordered as he walked away.

"Yes, Captain," the older man replied, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

(***)

Ken approached the captain from behind, slowly and tentatively, partly because he instinctively became wary when in close proximity of the man and partly because he didn't want to jar his bruised ribs any more than he had to. Swinging around on the rigging hadn't helped matters much either but he had wanted to feel useful earlier, and seeing as everyone had been too busy with other duties, he'd taken it upon himself to check the sails - a choice he sorely regretted now that his ribs complained with every breath.

Ken stopped just behind the man, and took the opportunity to watch the young captain without him noticing. The man stood leaning against the railing of the ship, and staring off into the vastness of the ocean, seemingly deep in thought. It may have been his imagination, but Ken saw a slight sagging of the redhead's shoulders, undoubtedly from the strain of the previous night's events. And yet, even now, when all the danger had passed, the man still seemed to exude an aura of regality that commanded complete and utter loyalty.

Finally deciding to make his presence known, Ken spoke. "Captain, you wished to see me?"

No response at first, and then softly, Ken heard two soft words. "Join me."

"Captain?" Ken approached the man, moving to stand beside him and leaning on the rail as well. "Captain, you wanted to see me?" Ken looked inquiringly at Ran's side profile.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" the redhead asked quietly, his gaze not leaving the seascape.

"What?" Ken gave the horizon a fleeting glance. "Oh, yes… yes, it is. Did you need something from me, Captain?"

After a short pause, Ran finally turned his head to face the younger man. "I … I just wanted to say thank you … thank you for saving Kit last night. He's … he's all I have left." As if uncomfortable with the words that had just left his mouth, Ran quickly looked away, his attention once more focused on the open sea.

Ken stood, stunned at the heartfelt sounds that had just floated to his ears. And had that been … vulnerability he'd seen in the captain's eyes? No, it couldn't be, not in the stalwart captain of the Redemption. But there had been something there, something barely identifiable, an unguarded look that had allowed Ken a passing glimpse of the demons the reserved man usually kept to himself. So, as the crew had suspected, the captain was human after all.

Sensing that the redhead still felt awkward with what he had just said, Ken found himself wanting to put the man at ease. He turned his full gaze toward the horizon and felt his heart stop at the scene before him.

The beginnings of the dawn were battling with the remnants of the night, leaving majestic streaks of red, pink, and orange hues in its wake. It was the eternal clash of light and dark that left the splattered soldiers smeared against the canvas of the sky, a battlefield enhanced twofold by the mirror of the reflective sea.

"It's beautiful …" Ken breathed out, his whole being riveted by the everyday miracle that was occurring right in front of him. "Like a painting …"

Ran nodded in agreement, letting the magic of the moment erase any uneasiness he'd been feeling. "Empires come and go, but this, Ken … this is forever."

Forever …

The word lingered in the air as the two men watched the sunrise, a sense of total peace washing over Ken as he felt the light slowly warm his face. He closed his eyes, savouring the tranquility of the moment, and the oddly comforting presence of the man beside him.

Forever …

All too soon, the pleasant warmth that had caressed his skin gave way to an uncomfortable heat, and Ken reopened his eyes to see the full brilliant orb of the sun.

Forever …

Ken straightened and turned away.

Nothing lasts forever…