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WINTER 1000
Loaded with fresh supplies, the ship is rowed by the crew out to sea. When she is free of the harbour, the majestic mainsail is raised, snapping taut with a friendly wind.
I stand on the ship looking west at the moon.
Peter approaches from behind and stands next to me. "Did you like Doorn?" Peter asks me.
"It is a very nice town. Although I would have preferred to have seen it with you." I tell him.
"So would I, love. But there were some important things to talk about," Peter tells me.
"Anything you can tell me about?" I pry.
He smiles at my curiosity and looks behind us before answering.
"Pirates." He replies.
"No way!" I say in disbelief.
"Geynesford said pirate ships had been spotted in our waters and attacked some of our ships. They haven't dared venture on land, but he wants us to do something about them." Peter tells me.
"And what did you guys tell him?" I ask.
"We said we'd help, of course! I don't know how just yet, but we've got to help." Peter tells me.
"I'm sure you'll figure out something. You two always do." I tell him and rest my head on his shoulder. He kisses the top of my head and places an arm around me.
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Lying in bed that night, I wake to find the ship lurching and tossing violently. Above my bed, the footsteps of the sailors rush across the deck, and the captain shouts loud commands. The roar of thunder and the crashing of waves against the side of the ship is deafening. Apparently, a terrible storm has the ship in its clutches! And by the sounds of the chaos above, things are becoming desperate.
Though I would much prefer to shut out the storm with my pillow and blanket, I know they'll need help upstairs, and no matter how little I know about sailing, I decided to go to their aid above.
I put on my pants and boots and jacket before heading outside. The wind is like the hand of a giant, pressing against the hatch as I strive to open it. The deck lies at a terrible angle so that it is rather more like climbing out onto a wall than anything like a floor. Huge waves wash on board, making the deck slick and dangerous. Men run everywhere, shouting directions at each other and pulling ropes this way and that. I attempt to make my way across the treacherous deck to help some sailors with the sail when the ship drops out from under me. Flying helplessly into the air, I land with a hard crash exactly where I had been standing before. Soaked to the skin and with both legs now badly bruised, I begin to wonder if I shouldn't go back down below where I can stay out of everybody's way.
"Imira!" I hear my name being called from behind and turn to find a soaking-wet Peter standing upstairs at the Captain's side. "Imira! What the hell are you doing up here?!!"
Peter rushes down the stairs and finds me holding on to the mast.
"Imira! Are you alright? What are you doing up here?!!" He asks loudly as sailors rush past us, grabbing me by the arm and examining me up and down.
"I-I thought I might help," I reply shivering in the cold night.
"Come on, we should get back inside before you break something," he says helping me back inside. "Are you alright?" he asks once more.
"Just bruised and cold," I reply wiping some strands of hair off my eyes.
"You're shivering. Come on, let's get inside. It's freezing out here." Peter says wrapping an arm tightly around me.
We make out way through the agitated deck, getting out of the way of the busy sailors. Somehow, we make it back inside without falling or slipping.
He opens the door for me and I walk in towards the fire. "Where's Edmund?" I ask Peter, realizing I didn't see his brother out there.
"Oh, he stayed in our cabin, reluctantly might I say," Peter replies. "When they came to warn us about the storm he wanted to go out and help. Reminds me of someone. Had to convince him to stay in."
"What were you doing out there anyway?" I ask squeezing the water off my hair.
"Had to talk to the Captain. Said the storm is making it hard to keep the course. We won't be able to get home as expected."
"Oh. Are we turning back to Doorn?" I ask.
"We are. The storm threw us off course a bit but yes, that's the plan." He tells me leaning into the fire to keep warm. "We should really get out of these clothes." He tells me seriously.
"Direct much, huh?" I say raising an eyebrow at him.
His eyes double in size and his face turns red as a tomato at the realization of what he just said. "I-I didn't mean it like that!" He replies quickly with panic in his face.
"I mean, if you want me out of my clothes there are other ways to go about it," I tell him teasingly.
"That's not - I didn't mean - I wouldn't say it like that," He says embarrassed.
I burst out laughing, "Relax, Pete. I'm just messing with you, I know what you meant." I tell him laughing. He joins in the laugh a bit and runs his hand through his wet hair, "I just meant we should get into something dry before we catch a cold," he clarifies.
"We totally should," I tell him smiling. "But just to be curious, how would you say it?" I ask him.
"Say what?" he asks nervously.
"You just said that's not how you'd say it. So, how would you?" I ask him, taking a step closer.
"Mmm, let's just say there'd be less talking and more kissing." He tells me with that sexy grin of his.
"Sounds interesting," I reply with a flirtatious glance.
"Oh, does it now?" He says.
After about ten seconds of flirtatious stares, we find ourselves kissing passionately, arms wrapped around each other. "You know I ...." Peter starts saying between kisses. "would hate for us to .... get sick .... maybe we should ...." I know where he's going with this and I am more than ok with it, "Yes, we should," I say and take off my jacket.
And so, leaving the ship to the sailors' capable hands, Peter and I weather out the storm in my cabin.
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