Robin Hood | The Stormwhite Between Them

Chapter 7 (Best Man)

Song: Choreomania  by Florence + The Machine

A/N- Oops does that say best man? I meant best mate! I swear! There are absolutely no weddings that will ever happen between a certain two somebodies.. Anyway, on with the story!

Erak and Svengal watched the waves surging through the two highlands and into the bay. Where they rolled against the beach, further down they saw the waves smash against rock on either side, white spray exploded high in the air. The two sea wolves heard the deep boom of the waves as they broke, even from where they were standing. The unbroken section of each wave that passed through the entrance swept across the bay until it hit the beach, pushing against the WolfWind. For a second, that wave would seem to gather itself, then it would heave up and water would surge and break over the beach.

The wind was remorseless, blowing in from the southwest and keening through the masts and rigging of the ship hauled up to safety on the beach, well above the high watermark. There was a constant rattle of loose halyards as they snapped back and forth against the masts.

The beautiful ship had a long tarpaulin tented over the open hull to keep out the worst of the wind and spray. Erak inspected her thoughtfully.

"This storm should die down soon, and we'll be ready to get out of this bay."

Erak grunted moodily, looking at the sea once more and sniffing the air.

"If this storm dies down," Erak repeated. "Whenever that might be."

"It can't last much longer," Svengal said optimistically. "It's been blowing now for ten days straight." He referenced the days while they were at sea. They had thought they had made it out of the storm when Robin was pulled back into the ship, but then the wind changed and blew it straight back into them, giving them just enough time to find the safety of the bay.

"Knew a storm when I was a boy that blew nonstop for over a month," Erak replied.

Svengal raised an eyebrow. "So you keep telling me, chief. But think about it. Storms like that don't happen very often. You were a boy, and that's a long time ago."

Erak glanced sidelong at his first mate, bridling at what he saw was an implied insult.

"It's not that long," he said stiffly. "I'm not even close to being on my last legs yet, you know."

Svengal rolled his eyes to the heavens. "You're not exactly a spring chicken, either."

Erak squared his shoulders and turned to face Svengal directly. "Is that right?" Erak took a half pace closer to Svengal, his chest thrust out aggressively. Erak's chest was quite a substantial matter and there were men who might have quailed before such an obvious challenge. Svengal, however, wasn't one of them. He was every bit as bulky as Erak and he'd known the Oberjarl for many years.

They'd grown up together, they'd sailed together, raided together, celebrated together and mourned lost shipmates together. He wasn't about to be intimidated by him now because he had a fancy title. He stood his ground and replied calmly.

"Chief, I'm not concerned with your advancing years," he said, and saw Erak's eyes narrow. "The point I'm making is that you were a boy when that storm lasted for a month. And that was many, many years ago. So it's not the sort of thing that happens frequently, is it?"

Erak's features softened a little. The glare died away from his eyes as he thought over Svengal's words. "I suppose not," he said reluctantly.

"So the odds are good that this storm won't last as long, aren't they?" Svengal persisted.

The Oberjarl nodded. "No. I suppose you're right."

"The storm will blow over soon." Svengal consoled him. "And in any event, whether it does or not, there's nothing you nor I nor my dear old aunt Milliy can do about it, is there?"

"I thought your dear old aunt was named Ophelia?" Erak challenged.

Svengal shrugged. "Aunt Milliy was her younger sister. A lovely woman, she was."

The Oberjarl shook his head. Svengal was fond of invoking his dear old aunts to make a point but their names seemed to change regularly. At last count, Erak could recall at least nine.

"In any event, what does she have to do with things?" he asked.

Svengal grinned at him. "She was fond of saying, We can change our breeches. We can change our minds. But we can't change the weather."

"You just made that up," Erak said.

"Maybe, but that doesn't make it any less true. Or less wise. The fact remains, when the storm does blow itself out today, we'll be ready to go with a plan.'

Erak harrumphed. The delay was chafing at him. He couldn't maintain Svengal's philosophical attitude to it. He wanted Wolfwind away and searching for this pirate crew.