Dark Waters Rising

Real

As the light of a golden dawn filtered in through the window, Wesley woke up. Small granules of sleep dust had accumulated in the inside corners of his eyes. After using his fingers to swipe them away, he noticed Valentine was already awake.

The man was sitting up on the cot with his knees drawn loosely to his chest. He was studying his hands quietly, his eyes sweeping over every line and crevice as if memorizing the details.

Wesley shifted slightly, about to sit up, but Valentine's words stopped him.

"This is all real, isn't it?" His voice was gentle. He made no move to look at Wesley, but the merchant could practically feel the pirate's attention directed toward him. When the question lingered too long without an answer, Valentine turned his soft lavender gaze toward his mate.

The way Valentine's long, silky hair spilled over his shoulder reminded Wesley of a waterfall. It seemed so soft and healthy, which was surprising given the state of the rest of his body. Wesley fought the urge to reach out and run his fingers through it. Instead, he parted his lips and uttered a soft, "Yes."

Valentine's gaze shifted between both of Wesley's eyes for a moment as he tried to determine if the response was genuine. When he found no lie in them, he leaned down and pressed his lips against the merchant's.

A small fluttering sensation bloomed in the pit of Valentine's stomach and in that moment he dared to believe it was true. That somehow his pleas had been answered and he had been spared from his never-ending nightmares.

He wanted to deepen the kiss. He wanted to show Wesley exactly how much he meant to him—how much he'd missed him—but he refrained. Instead, he pulled back, his forehead resting against the merchant's and his eyes closed to hold back the moisture pooling within them.

"How?" his voice cracked, even as a whisper.

Wesley breathed in Valentine's presence briefly before framing the man's face with both of his palms and lightly pushing him away. The merchant sat up as he guided Valentine back, causing the pirate to open his eyes again.

"I can show you," he said softly.

Valentine's dark eyebrows drew together in confusion as he watched Wesley swing his legs out from under the blankets and stand. He thought perhaps the merchant would bring him something, but instead, he reached out a hand to help Valentine up as well.

Wesley's palm was warm as it closed around Valentine's. Once the siren was on his feet, Wesley guided one of the man's arms to drape over his shoulders for support. His own arm snaked around Valentine's waist and came to rest just above his hip.

The thin fabric of the robe Wesley had given him seemed too much in that moment, but Valentine stamped down those thoughts as soon as they surfaced. Now was not the time.

As Wesley helped him outside, Valentine observed his surroundings with hungry eyes. Everything seemed so vibrant. He forgot colors could feel so alive. The rich green of the trees danced across his vision, followed by the vast blue sky and the far reaching ocean. He could smell the salt in the air and hear the gentle caress of waves lapping at the shore. It had another round of tears pricking at the corner of his eyes but he blinked them away in favor of seeing what Wesley was leading him to.

"What is this?" he asked as they approach an upturned patch of earth. He could practically taste the magic that still lingered in the air. It was a powerful sort that immediately had him on edge.

Wesley stopped a few paces away from the grave, causing Valentine to too. With a slight gesture toward the dirt, Wesley breathed, "This is where we resurrected you."

"We?" Valentine turned his gaze from the trinkets littering the ground to Wesley's face.

The merchant cleared his throat.

"A few months after your crew brought me back from the island, I was approached by your mother." A confused frown weighed down Valentine's lips as he looked back at the marred ground. Wesley continued. "She explained that she had a plan to bring you back and needed my help to do it."

"And you agreed?" he asked, and through his tone, Wesley could tell Valentine didn't understand why.

"Your death took a toll on me," he admitted, looking back at the grave. "I tried not to let it, but it did. I was in a bad place and Andromeda literally handed me the key to make it all better. I couldn't just. . . not."

"I didn't know I meant that much to you," Valentine said, deep in thought.

"I didn't either," Wesley breathed the words, "until you were gone."

Valentine narrowed his eyes a bit, turning to face the merchant. "I'm going to ignore the fact that I'm supposed to be the one wooing you because we have a more pressing issue to worry about."

"We do?" Wesley asked. That was news to him.

Valentine nodded. "My mother."

"I'm confused."

"She wouldn't have brought me back just because I'm her son. I know she loves me, in her own way, but it doesn't add up. My mother is a blunt, calculated woman, which means she would not have risked something as dangerous as a resurrection spell unless she had an ulterior motive. Where is she now?"

"Uh, she had to take care of some stuff subsurface. I have no idea when she'll be back."

Valentine cursed under his breath, his eyes straying to the beach.

"If it helps," Wesley said, scratching the back of his head, "I think I know what her other motive is."

Val's eyes snapped back to him expectantly, but Wesley was hesitant to give him the news. Valentine was in a delicate state at the moment, and Wesley had no way of predicting how he would react. If he had bad reactions to something as minor as eating, then this. . . Wesley was afraid this might destroy him.

"What is it?" Valentine asked impatiently when he did not immediately receive an answer.

The merchant nibbled his bottom lip briefly before speaking.

"Your father is going to declare war on the surface."

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A/N

Howdy folks!

If you were a ghost, what/where would you haunt?

I'd pick a movie theater: endless free entertainment.

Next update on Friday,
-Mora Montgomery