Here There be Dragons: Testing the Waters

The next two weeks passed in a sleep-deprived blur. Their routine, once so easy, was shattered by the presence of Damara, who screamed like a banshee if she was not being held. Aella, no stranger to pushing on through diversity, found this new intrusion to her sleep nearly impossible to manage through. Her nerves were frayed, she could barely find time to eat, and she still had all the responsibilities of her office to maintain. Evander, bless him, picked up the slack.

The young children were drilled in lessons on etiquette by Basiano, who brought his own infant to their lessons. She was monstrously huge compared to little Damara. Aella had not realized how quickly wee babies grew. The boys, ever helpful, were happy to do lessons with both cousin and little sister, so long as they got to each hold a baby.

Epelda, on the other hand, was far less charmed by the infant after she learned, first hand, how messy a baby could be. She was content to watch, to talk to the adults, and not hold the tiny girl. She would also take over on the times that Evander and Aella retreated to the cabin with Nereida, each reluctant scion attempting to find their magic, to make it bow to their whims. But for all their work, Evander could only produce a fine mist and Aella was only successful in pulling a vision in the night. Her visions, when she called them, were hazy, disjointed and unhelpful. It made her blood boil to know she was supposed to be special when she couldn’t do any of it. But, then again, her life was simpler without the visions.

“This is why we develop magic in our youths,” Nereida muttered. “I have years of unlearning to teach you both!” She threw her hands in the air and hobbled off to fetch her baby. She was still unsteady on the new leg, but her gait improved daily. Aella suspected her wife no longer needed the cane, but was using it because it was easier. She just was unsure of how to even bring it up.

Nereida had been shying away from her touch since they had returned to the ship. She was responsive to her face being touched, but if Aella so much as brushed against either leg, Nereida would shut down and turn away. Aella did not push her, knowing the whole thing was still fresh, still new. She wouldn’t hurt her wife if it could be avoided.

But she suspected hurt was on the horizon.

They had finally entered waters controlled by what passed for the Lagrians’ navy. The look out reported that there were sixteen ships in the waters within view, but four flew Sylph merchant flags. They were spread too thin, with gaps in their defences. The port city of Lagunara was set in a cove about half a day away, but they did not dare get any closer. She would not bring war. And so they sat, waiting to be addressed.

After an hour, too long in Aella’s mind, the other ship began to return their semaphore messages. Aella watched the flags dance through her spyglass.

“Flag unknown. State your allegiance.” She closed her eyes, took a steadying breath, and looked over at the flagbearer. “Kyra, tell them we follow the Siren People. Welcome them to send a party over.” The young woman nodded briskly, and began waving her arms about. Aella watched from her spyglass, waiting for a reaction. She saw the other ship’s captain gesturing wildly, as if he could not believe what he was being told. Eventually the reply came through.

“We will board.”

That was all Aella needed. She blew her whistle sharply, calling for the attention of her crew.

“Drop anchor, be ready for anything, skeletal crew above deck. Someone get my wife, the prince and Epelda! Gregors, to the helm. Hamil, get the children all below to the kitchen. They are to stay with Dymion, Carlos and you.”

“Even the babes?”

“Yes, if they decide to make an issue of our allegiance, we cannot risk either infant.”

“Aye, Ma’am.”

It would take twenty minutes for the ships to be in position for the rowboats, and so Aella nipped into her cabin. She changed into her courtly gear, the outfit she had worn to see Matthias. Nereida was dressed in the matching gown, wearing her cloak. Aella kissed her wife’s cheek sweetly, and Nereida gave her a little smile.

“You’ll have to help me get out of this,” Nereida whispered, her soft smile turning mischievous. Aella felt heat rise up her neck, and she squeezed her wife’s hand.

“That and more,” she whispered back. “I… If you are ready.”

“Let’s get through this, and we will find out,” Nereida replied, the smile dropping from her face. Anxiousness crawled over the siren’s features, her eyes darting behind Aella. “I’m with you.”

“And I’m with you, my princess.” Nereida closed her eyes, and let out a long, low breath. She limped over to the drawer, and withdrew the anklet her mother had made. Aella hissed in displeasure.

“Love, no!”

“I have to!” Nereida wouldn’t look at her, but her tone was full of pain. “They don’t know me like this. They… they can’t… Father won’t….” She swallowed, and sat on the bed.

“Love….” She struggled to say something profound, anything, but no words came out. And so she watched as Nereida placed the anklet on, as the magic washed over her wife and hid everything she was for the comfort of others. Anger and resentment stirred in Aella’s heart. Nereida gave her a tentative little smile, her teeth small and flat now, her cheeks pink and not blue. The magic of the anklet even hid her draconic leg, making her look human and ordinary, and nothing at all like the woman Aella loved. But she would endure this, for her wife’s sake.

Together, they went to the deck to wait. Basiano joined them, wearing his crown, his thick white belt and his courtly finery. It was strange, now, to see him without spit-up stains and a bundled child on his chest. Now, he looked every part the Crown Prince, his back straight, his hair, longer now, carefully combed. His expression was armour, strong and yet not giving any hints about how he felt. Only his occasional glance at Nereida showed his nervousness.

The Lagrain Captain’s rowboat was hoisted up, and he climbed in, six men behind him. They were all dressed in deep reds, the Captain’s doublet made of silk and decorated with small gold tassels that likely denoted rank. His belt was white and worn, almost identical to the one that Nereida wore. He was their age, perhaps fourty, his red hair a deep red, short cut and tightly curled. She felt Nereida draw a breath in, and saw Basiano’s posture change subtly.

“Caleb!” Nereida cried out, breaking away from her hand. He gaped at her, pulling her into a tight embrace. Aella felt her jaw tighten as Nereida began laughing and crying in the arms of a man from her past.

“Nerry?” his voice broke. “Oh Dragon’s fire, you’re alive!” He kissed her head, a gentle, tender kiss, and Aella felt herself step forward, her hands clenched. Basiano placed a hand on Aella’s shoulder, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin.

“That’s Leevan’s husband,” Basiano hissed. “Calm down, Admiral.” She grimaced, heat rushing to her cheeks, but she took a step back. This, then, was the boy who had been knighted alongside Nereida. A friend, she forced herself to think. A friend only.

Basiano interrupted the tender scene.

“Sir Caleb,” he pitched his voice so it carried. Everyone went quiet, even Nereida. She still wore a teary smile, but she let go of the man and stepped back closer to Aella. Caleb took note of the movement, his eyes following her before they snapped to his brother-in-law. “We request an escort home. This ship is under my employ.”

“Her Captain?” Caleb enquired. Aella stepped forward, head held high, and fixed him with a steely glare.

“I am her Admiral, Grand Admiral Aella D’Igna.” Hearing her cue, Nereida slid beside her, taking her hand. Caleb threw his head back and laughed. Dragons’ fuzzy assholes, did all the Salamanders laugh when stressed?

“Oh, my Liege, it would be my honour,” he said, wiping his eyes. “I’ll send word ahead. Royal retinue for three?”

“No,” Basiano said. Caleb lifted an eyebrow. “For eight.”

“Eight?” The Lagrain removed his hat to scratch at his curly hair, his face twisting in confusion.

“Myself, and the infant child I have adopted.” Caleb nodded, the colour leaving his face.

“Masilee will have words about that,” he muttered. Basiano shrugged.

“That’s still only four,” Caleb said softly.

“Well, there is the Countess,” Basiano said, a small smirk playing across his face. This was theatre to him! “Countess Epelda,” he called out. Epelda leapt from the crow’s nest, dressed in her finest, her wings spread wide. “My sister’s eldest daughter.” Epelda landed behind Nereida, placing her hand on her shoulder. Caleb nodded, and then sighed.

“And the other three?”

“My other children, too young to be titled,” Nereida said softly. He smiled at her warmly, but there was worry in his eyes.

“I… Bassi- My Liege,” he corrected, remembering his place as Captain before brother-in-law. He looked regretful. Basiano, however, motioned for him to continue. “Perhaps… we send word ahead and bring just those eight in? It… your flag makes the others nervous.”

“Let them be nervous.” Basiano’s voice was hard, almost cold. “I will not ask anyone aboard to hide who they are.” He did not look at his sister, but Nereida’s grasp tightened. “Hiding the truth helps no one, isn’t that right, Aella?”

“I agree.” Nereida dropped her hand, the princess stepping away. “I have crew who are sirens. They are sane. One is engaged to my heir,” she motioned to Epelda.

“You will escort the ship,” Basiano said, “and any sailors who cannot abide by their Crown Prince sailing alongside sirens and sylphs and moon-touched can find themselves new employ. Anyone,” he stressed. Caleb took a step back. “Anyone who cannot, will not, look to the future, will be left behind.” And then he turned sharply, his cloak billowing impressively as he marched below, not bothering to see his orders followed through. Aella hid a smile.

“Caleb?” Nereida said nervously. Her old friend turned toward her. He rubbed his clean-shaven jaw as if he had been struck by Basiano.

“Nerry?”

“I….” she trailed off, seeing the others that came with her staring at her. Aella took a step toward her, holding out her hand, and Nereida stepped into her, curling her hand around the crook of her arm. Mine. “I missed you. Stay for tea?” It was clearly not what she wanted to say.

“I need to see your brother’s orders through, Nerry. But… I….” he glanced at Aella. “May I have permission to return, Admiral?”

“Aye, you have it.”

“We will need authority from the higher ups to escort your vessel. It may be a day or two,” he shrugged apologetically. “You know bureaucrats," he added, glancing at Aella. She nodded.

“If you can see to shore-leave for my folks, we have been at sea longer than we’d care for,” Aella said. He nodded.

“Of course, Admiral D’Igna,” he said, bowing his head respectfully. Aella tried not to grimace.

“Aren’t you married to a prince yourself?” she asked softly. He laughed.

“I suppose.”

“He’s your brother-in-law,” Nereida said helpfully, a teasing smile on her false face. “Won’t this be fun?”

“Loads,” Aella grumbled, but she felt some relief at Nereida’s teasing tone. Perhaps they’d get through this. But something in her stomach twisted, and she felt a strange sensation of worry, of danger. She tried to grasp the feeling, but it was fleeting and so vague as to be useless.

“May I hug you again, Nerry?” he asked after a moment. Aella’s stomach clenched at the idea, but she forced it away. This was her brother-in-law. They were not attracted to each other. Nereida, oblivious to or ignoring her turmoil, gave him another hug, tight and strong. He laughed a little.

“Ship life has been good to you,” he observed softly. “Welcome home, princess.” And without another word, he gathered up his men and headed back to his own ship. Nereida came back to her side. Aella kissed her wife’s cheek, inviting her back to their cabin before Dymion could hand the children back. She still felt an itch at the back of her mind, that something was not right, but she was content to ignore it for now. All Aella wanted now was some time alone with her wife, with the door barred and that ridiculous anklet removed.