Dark Waters Rising

Fire

Valentine cursed to himself as he tried once again to breathe life into his fire. He was laying on his stomach in the sand, striking his flints together time after time, but even though they made sparks, they never seemed to catch. It made no sense to the pirate. Surely the pile of driftwood and tree branches he had accumulated would look appetizing to a flame. Yet it did not bite. 

"You're doing it wrong."

Valentine was startled by Wesley's voice. He had not expected him back for a while longer. The man turned his gaze to the merchant and pulled himself up so that he was sitting on his knees. 

"Would you like to try?" he arched a dark eyebrow and held out the flints. 

Wesley accepted them and knelt down before the stack Valentine had created. As the pirate looked upon his face, he noticed it was still a bit red and puffy from crying. He was wise not to mention it. 

Wesley started disassembling the pile of wood, which confused the pirate. Yet he did not speak up. He simply observed.

"Fire is a human's tool," Wesley explained, his eyes not leaving his work, "and as such, it behaves much like a human."

He stole a few dead leaves from some of the branches beside him. Then he started picking loose fibers from his shirt until he had a decent amount of white fuzz in his hand. It reminded Valentine of a small, fluffy cloud. Lastly Wesley pulled some dead grass that he had gathered on his way back to the pirate from his pocket and assembled all of his materials into a small bundle. 

"It needs to be treated gently at first," he said. He created a small platform of smaller branches and set the bundle on top of them. The merchant then broke off twigs from the other branches and formed them into little, airy walls around the tinder bundle. "It needs to know its safe, and it needs to be given room to breathe."

Wesley struck the flint into the tinder twice before he saw an ember land. The heat of it melted away a small hole in the fibers, but before the glow could die out, Wesley leaned in close and gently blew on it to ignite it. He pulled his face back as the flames grew, and as the fire caught onto the twigs around it, Wesley gradually started feeding it larger branches. Before long, a full sized fire was dancing before them. 

"Only then will it have enough trust to show itself."

Fire had always been a mystery to Valentine, being as he had spent the majority of his life underwater. Comparatively, Wesley seemed like a master of it. The pirate supposed that made sense. Wesley was a human and had likely been starting fires since he was a boy. Still, Valentine admired the man's skill, for he had been trying to light the fire for hours and it took Wesley only a few minutes. 

"Finley Scott," Wesley said as he stood up. Valentine looked up at him, confused but silent. Wesley brushed his hands off on his trousers as he continued, "had two daughters. They are orphans now."

Valentine wasn't sure what the man was talking about, but he did not question it. Instead he looked into the flames as Wesley took a few steps away before laying down with his back to both the man and the fire.

The pirate figured that meant he was going to sleep, so without another word, he pulled his waistcoat tighter around himself and laid down too. He stared into the fire for a while longer as the world around them grew darker. Eventually sleep pulled him into a fitful unconsciousness. 

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Wesley woke to the smell of roasted meat. He opened his eyes and groaned at the stiffness in his muscles. He did not sleep well throughout the night because in addition to unsettling dreams, the sounds of nocturnal creatures kept waking him. He had never been too keen on sleeping outside, but they didn't really have a choice in the matter now. 

Wesley rolled onto his back and saw that Valentine had broken into the first barrel of salted beef and was making breakfast. His stomach rumbled at the sight. Neither of them had eaten since they had left the ship, so it was high time they had a meal. 

Wesley sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. He brushed sand off his clothes and body as he watched the pirate work. He had cut the beef into manageable chunks and was now roasting each strip on the end of a stick. After a few moments, he determined one of them to be thoroughly cooked and held the stick out towards Wesley. 

The merchant accepted it without hesitation, knowing to grab the stick rather than the beef, since it would likely burn him. He waited as long as his stomach had patience for before testing the heat gingerly with the tips of his fingers. Determining it to be a manageable temperature, he removed it from the stick and handed the tool back to the pirate. 

The beef was tough and salty, but Wesley wasn't going to complain about it. Had the situation been any different, they might not have had any meal at all. Luckily for them, this marooning had been voluntary on Valentine's part, so they were fortunate enough to have brought a supply of food with them.

As Wesley chewed the animal flesh, his mind wandered to some of the things he had learned while he was under the spell. They were fascinating things, he couldn't deny it, but they were also quite troubling to him. The reminder of the true nature of the man sitting beside him brought an unsettling thought to Wesley that made the beef in his mouth taste more like ash. 

"Do you. . ." he cleared his throat as he debated finishing his inquiry. He wasn't so sure he would like the answer. Just the thought of it threatened to send bile up his throat. In the end, his curiosity decided he would rather know than be left to wonder. He was sure his imagination would take him to dark places if he didn't voice his question now. So he did. "Do you eat people?"

Valentine shifted his lavender gaze to meet the merchant's. His expression gave away nothing, and the anticipation for the answer was nearly killing Wesley.

"I wouldn't mind eating you," Valentine said with an even, smooth voice. 

The mischievous glint in the pirate's eyes gave away that they were not talking about the same thing, and Wesley suddenly found heat rising to his face. He turned his head away, hoping the pirate would not notice his blush, and continued to eat his breakfast. He figured he could try to blame it on the sun if he had the gall to point it out.

He waited a few moments for his cheeks to cool down before turning back to the pirate.

"You should give me one of your knives."

Valentine looked at him again, this time disinterestedly.

"Why?" he asked, and Wesley could detect the hint of bitterness laced in his tone. "So you can stab me again?"

Wesley clenched his jaw and looked into the fire.

"I could hunt with it," he said, "or use it to build useful things like a shelter or a spear."

"No," Valentine said. "You have proven yourself quite untrustworthy with a weapon. I will not be making that mistake again."

Wesley felt his frustration growing again, and instead of letting himself stew in it, he got up to gather more wood for the fire.

"Bennett Brown," he said before leaving, "was to marry upon returning home. Now he never will."

Valentine watched him leave, again confused by his words. The man was an enigma to him.

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A/N

Do you guys prefer weekly, scheduled updates or spontaneous updates (could be as frequent as every day or as infrequent as months apart depending on what's going on in the author's life).

I'd love to hear your opinion!

See you on Friday!
-Mora Montgomery