Obey Your Captain

His destination was near, he had to hurry. He couldn’t fail.

She stretched in her hammock when she heard the crew rousing after a reasonable peaceful sleep. In her drowsy state, she relished in the rather quiet sounding ship, footsteps were all that could be heard.

Her eyes snapped open.

It was not possible.

Feeling wide awake with dread, she jumped from her hammock, donning her boots before ascending the rough wooden steps three at a time. She was in such a rush she completely forgot she could transport anywhere on the ship with a wave of her hand. She skidded to a halt at the taffrail, seeing glass-smooth sea.

Glass. Smooth.

The sea had not been so calm in the whole year she’d been on this boat.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she felt a body enter her space from behind. “A fine day, Miss Warren,” his smug voice cascaded over her.

She gritted her teeth, suppressing a shiver down her spine. “So it seems. Captain,” she replied smoothly, her upper-class merchant accent a little more pronounced.

“My quarters in twenty minutes, please,” it was not an order, it was a request.

“Breakfast first, Captain,” she retaliated, oh so sweetly.

“I wish for you to dine with me.”

Her stomach lurched. Dining with the Captain? That was just about everything she wanted.

But no, she couldn’t think those things, want those things.

He. Was. The. Captain.

“All the same to you, I would prefer to eat with the crew.”

He took a step towards her, he was much too close for comfort. His shirt brushed hers as he leant down to her ear, his decadent spiced scent suffocated her. “You are intent on disobeying me. It would be easier for you to please me.”

“I was taught to please no one. Daddy always knew for me to live this life, I needed to take no one’s nonsense.”

He fisted her shirt, pulling her impossibly close. “Daddy’s dead, princess,” he hissed. “You’re on my ship and you will join me in my quarters in fifteen minutes if you know what is good for you.”

Her jaw was clenched, she wanted to be more angry at where his hand was… but it was sending a raging fire that was not of fury.

He couldn’t know that though.

“Remove your hand or you’ll lose it,” she hissed back, her blueberry purple eyes glaring up at his honey.

He took a step back, removing his hand from her clothing before folding his arms tightly over his large chest. “Clock’s ticking.” His boots thunked over the deck as he walked away, slamming the door to his quarters so hard she was amazed the door didn’t splinter.

She stared in irritation at the horizon. The weather had seemingly cursed her and she wasn’t happy about it… well she was infuriated she’d lost the bet. She would have bet money but that would have been less of a loss for what she was about to lose.

She knew the Captain dealt with her disobedience for one reason. Her power. She was the only spellcaster on the boat, meaning she was invaluable. She wouldn’t have even been on this vessel if it weren’t for the death of her father and her desperate wish to escape. Her grief had driven her from her father’s ship.

This ship would have never been able to afford a spellcaster otherwise.

She waited until two minutes past the time the Captain had said before she imagined the quarters, his desk, the table used for charting and eating, the door to his cabin next to a chest. The room formed in her mind before she waved her hands gracefully above her, she could almost see the trails of magic leaving her fingertips before the room in her mind became her view.

“Go out and knock,” he growled from the table, a white fish in front of him on a tin plate, while another sat adjacent to him.

“Is that the order you wish for me to obey without question?” She cocked her head to the side, her ash blonde hair spilling over her shoulder.

“If it were, you wouldn’t be questioning it.”

She could tell he wanted to sigh, she frustrated him. Part of her loved that fact. Loved that she got under his skin and would never be able to forget her. The other part, disliked he would remember her for the wrong reasons. For the spellcaster who was a pain in his rear. In truth… she was surprised he hadn’t thrown her overboard.

“You didn’t go for breakfast.” He gestured to the other plate. She glared at it a moment before sliding into the seat. “You were so sure the weather would continue?”

“There were no signs of it breaking. What made you so certain?”

“I felt it.” He tapped his chest.

“I would say it was a stroke of luck.”

“If it were, it has fallen to my advantage.” His golden eyes glittered, a smirk forming on his thin lips.

“I don’t recall we shook on it.” She shrugged.

“It was an agreement. I took you as an individual to keep their word. Was I mistaken?”

She clenched her jaw at him, frustrated but warmed by his attempt to trick her.

“I am whatever you take me as.”

“A spoiled little rich girl,” he shot back without missing a beat.

Her mouth popped open, her cheeks rudied. How dare he?

“That’s dedicated to her craft. So as part of our agreement, I want to put a proposition to you.”

Her pointed ears peaked. A proposition? “That would be?”

“From now to sunrise, you follow my every order.”