The Queen of the Waves

22: the Vengeance of a Warrior

When Mara felt better, she opened her eyes and frowned when she found the bedclothes empty and Bas' coat gone.

As soon as she brushed the sleep from her eyes, the fire and fury was licking at her heels. She stood and dressed in the clothes she had worn when Bayen was killed, the white shirt was splattered with the traitors' blood but Mara relished in the terror it would inspire.

Heart pounding, she kicked the door down, the bolt Bas had placed there for her safety clattered to the floor. Mara stalked down to the prison, her hours spent on the deck with Louis had allowed Mara to memorise the layout of the ship.

She snuck down the corridors and her eyes lit up in triumphant malice as she uncovered the slumped form of Ciaran hanging from a pole.

"Hello Ciaran," she cooed and crouched down in front of him, "I've so missed you."

His bleary eyes opened and found the smirking Mara, the way she held herself was different. She was powerful and dangerous.

Mara reached into her boot and pulled out a glinting dagger she had fished from Bastian's coat pocket a few days ago.

Ciaran's eyes blinked unseeingly as she reaches behind him and snaps the ropes with ease. Using her years of training, she dragged him up to his feet and kept the knife pressed firmly to his jugular.

"Walk" she hissed in his ear as he moaned in pain.

"Can't." He groaned out.

"Walk or I slit your throat right now."

Mara half dragged half shoved her abuser and rapist up the stairs and onto the deck.

As soon as Ciaran's bloodied figure and Mara's murderous glint appeared before the eyes of the men, the world fell silent.

Bas' eyes widened in terror and surprise. He walked over to her with his arms outstretched steadily.

"What are you doing Mara?" He asked gently, his tone firm and hiding his fear.

"You promised me I could and it's after the funeral."

Mara's voice was harsh as she threw Ciaran's body to the hard deck below. With a satisfying crunch she knew his shoulder had dislocated as he had done to hers.

"I have to say Bas, I admire your handiwork, but now it's my turn."

The men shifted in silence as they watched the innocent stowaway reach for her dagger; she clearly was dangerous.

"Someone get me some fucking rope." She swore and when no one moved her head lunged up and she stared at Bas with a hidden desperation in her eyes.

"Please." She hissed and Bas relented and reached to a pile of rope and tossed it to her.

Even though he wanted to bear this punishment for her, he realised that with her past, that was never going to happen. Mara needed revenge and he wasn't going to stop her.

Bas watched and kept the men at bay as Mara swiftly and expertly bound the groaning Ciaran hand and foot, as he had done to her.

"Hurts, doesn't it?"

She whispered in his ear with a glinting chill in her eye that warped fear down Bas' spine.

"I'd like to say that you'll drown fairly quickly, but the truth is Ciaran, the sharks will get to you before your lungs have a chance to close."

Mara knew they were less that a week away from the coast of Andonia- the waters they were sailing through were infested with demons. Demons that trail ships on the hope of scraps thrown over the side; or people.

Bas watched her as she stood to her feet, ignoring Ciaran's tears and begs for mercy.

"Please, Mara. Don't do this." He wept.

Mara's heart chilled and she crouched down to his level once again, Bas took a step towards her in case she needed it.

"Where was your mercy, Ciaran?" She snarled, "where was your mercy when you held me down to a bed as I screamed? As you ripped me open? As you took everything from me, simply because you could?"

The snivelling creature on the floor gave one last sob as he knew no mercy would come from Mara, no mercy would come from the captain and from the murmurs of disgust and outcries of anger, no mercy would come from the crew.

Bas knew it was time to give Mara peace from this monster and he knew what she needed from him.

He walked the final few feet to her now standing form and lightly squeezed her arm before reaching down to her bound captive.

With his strong arms, Bas lifted the rapist, the murdered, easily and tossed him into the demons awaiting below.

The men cheered as justice for their captain was served. Bas returned to Mara's side and noticed in surprise that there were tears down her cheeks. She hastily wiped them away with the back of her hand but it was too late, her vulnerability had been bared to him.

With a heavy swallow, Bas gently guided Mara through the men and away from prying eyes.

Once they were safe back in his cabin, Mara began to cry once again. Even she did not know why the tears wouldn't stop falling but Bas knew what she needed.

He pulled her into his arms, against his chest and rocked her as her tears died down.

"I-I don't know why I'm crying." She croaked out as Bas hushed her softly.

"Your tears are natural Mara," he reassured, "they are healing."

He bent down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head but he didn't let her go. Mara was traumatised and he knew that she hoped the death of Ciaran would bring her peace, but it had opened old wounds.

Mara raised her head from his chest, her cheeks streaked with the fine remnants of her sorrow but Bas' heart and soul clenched at her beauty.

Their eyes met and then Mara flicked her gaze down to his stubbles jaw, his soft lips. When she looked back up, she found Bas staring at her own lips.

Instinctively, they both exhaled shakily before their faces moved ever closer. Now their eyelashes brushed as their noses bumped together.

Bas clenched his jaw again, every instinct screaming in him to close the gap between them, but his brain and goodness prevented him from doing so.

Instead it was Mara who made the first move, she needed the comfort and intimacy that only Bas could bring her.

With one last surge of confidence, her lips met his at last.