fic: castle built on water (cinderella/sinbad)
Author: kanjo_girl
Title: Castle Built on Water
Rating: PG-13
Summary: When princess and pirate collide.
Char./Pairing: Sinbad/Cinderella
Warnings: spoilers for Sinbad, language
Disclaimer: I do not own Disney's movies Cinderella and Sinbad.
Notes: Written for czarownicykot's contest on YouTube.
There's muffled laughter at the right of her--too far away for her to hear the conversation. She closes her eyes and leans further over the railing, watching the glittering waves rise and fall just feet below. The sunset releases a scene of wonder and beauty, but she cannot see past the miles of water ahead.
Those waves lead to a future of despair, she knows.
She pushes off the edge suddenly and the talking stops. Curiously, she glances over to find them all staring suspiciously at her. Their unkempt hair and ragged clothes are dirtied, much like her own even before forced upon this journey of punishment. But she figures her appearances are not the cause of their stares--it's her mere gender.
Carefully turning away, she finds the stairs below the deck and hides there.
--x--
She finds work the fifth day she is on the ship. The cook is kind, and she finds it odd. Where there is a crew full of rude behaviors and biting words, he is abnormally nice and generous.
Nadab. That is his name. She likes it and tells him so. He just smiles.
His hair has streaks of gray, however it remains over all black and slick. There is a slight limp in his step and she knows he tries to hide it from people. He usually wears a white and long sleeved shirt, stained with years in the kitchen. His smile is often worn and tired and she realizes hers is beginning to look just like that.
Since then, she has not had a place to rest her head until he offers the lonely bunk near his quarters. "This 'ere is used fer de servants who find work 'ere in de kitchen," Nadab explains, limping over to the door and opening it for her. "Dere ain't no servants workin' fer dis old dog. Yer welcome to dis room 'ere, if ya like, little missy."
She thanks him for the opportunity and he leaves. The room is small and only takes five, small paces to cross it but there is a bed and a stand to place things (she doesn't have possessions to lay anything on it, however). Instinctively, she begins dusting off the bed and nightstand with her small apron. She asks if it's possible to use some water to wash off the sheets to clean and Nadab shows her the pale of water near the corner of the kitchen.
It's all fine, she realizes, as long she doesn't try to remember her life.
Nadab allows her to work on various things. Besides aiding him in cooking the meals, he'll give her small tokens if she runs other errands for him. He'll ask her to serve meals to some crew members who are still working late at night, or deliver several messages at once. Nadab says it's hard to make a living where she is going and she'll need a good start.
She's glad no one asks her questions, especially what her name is. No one cares, she figures and her world consists of that small bunk, Nadab and deep blue waters leading nowhere.
--x--
"I want to change my name," she says quietly one evening, as she chops green onions.
Nadab glances over his shoulder with a frown before he tells her, "Ah, want ta leave yer life behind fer good I see."
He chuckles but she shakes her head.
"Perhaps."
"It's all right, little missy," he takes the green onions from her and hands over more vegetables to cut, "Startin' over won't be so bad."
When she doesn't answer, he asks:
"What would yer name be now?"
"I'm not sure," the maid replies distractedly. "Maybe I'll just stay with what I have."
"Dats always best," he murmurs, "Keepin' somethin' special of what'cha 'ave is always best."
--x--
Sleep is hard to find tonight and since it's a full moon, she decides to watch it dance over the waves.
She misses her friends back home. The birds that sang encouragements and mice that gave affectionate smiles. Despite a life where she could have lived in peace and as a princess, she finds herself even missing the life of a slave of three women who hated her every movement. It's better than this world leading to an unknown life, with the only promise of loneliness and sorrow.
There is no one here who treats her awfully, however, no one has really been given the chance. She leaves their presence before they may utter a word of disdain. She is not confined to a life of being ordered by everyone in her life here and perhaps that is one of the things she is growing to adore. No one can demand her to stay too long or tell her she is worthless and powerless.
But she is alone.
She starts to regret dreaming of a world away from her stepmother and stepsisters. For the world before her now is filled with isolation and pending despair.
"Having your own little party out here, I see."
Shocked and afraid, she spins around to find a young man just three feet away from her. Her back completely against the rail, she glances over at the stairs leading below deck she could easily slip over to.
The young man tilts his head to the side with question. "You don't have to be scared. I'm just out here for the view of the nice moon."
She glances over her shoulder where he gestures and turns back to him. She takes the opportunity to study him appropriately. His nearly shoulder length hair his combed well and a dark brown. His sleeveless black and red-rimmed shirt clings tightly against his skin, as apposed to the loose pants, tucked into cleaned boots. It's when she notices the small dagger in his left hand and nearly jumps away in fright.
He must have realized her source of discomfort.
"Oh, right," he tucks the tiny sword away and gazes back over to her widened eyes. "Do you speak?" he chuckles awkwardly, averting his eyes away. "Yeah, of course you do. The crew says you do, at least."
She shifts uncomfortably and sighs. "I work with Nadab."
He lifts his eyes over to her face again, blinking in what she thinks is surprise. "Ah! She does speak!"
The mockery isn't appreciated so she begins to step away. "Good night."
"Going already?" He sounds just a little caught off guard. "Don't you want to know my name?"
She's always been honest. So, shaking her head, "No." She slips past him. Before she ducks under deck, she hears his laughter.
--x--
"Cinday!"
She wakes with a start and is already running down the corridors to the kitchen, stopping abruptly at the entrance, hands on the doorway.
"Yes, Nadab?"
He blinks over to her and laughs. "Yer 'ere fast!" He shakes with laughter and grips his huge belly, hunching over.
She frowns. "But you called."
"Yer were a maid before ya came 'ere, weren't'cha?"
She doesn't answer.
After finishing with his laughter, he gestures to the meals carefully made before her.
"I need ya ta take this 'ere ta de captain above deck. His own servant's got sick and can't serve 'im dis mornin'."
She nods and turns to pick up the dishes covered in shiny tin lids.
"Oh, and Cinday," he stops her, "De captain ain't known fer manners. Don't'cha let 'im get ta ya."
--x--
When she gets to the door of the captain's quarters, she realizes her hands are full and she cannot knock. She uses her foot instead and a large man answers. His dark skin and bald hair stand out than the rest and she finds it interesting.
"Dis de food?"
She nods and he allows her inside, where a couple other men sit at a table, discussing routes to a port. Instantly, she assumes they are first mates, the kind that are close to the captain personally. They don't notice her as she walks through the doorway until she sets down the trays of their breakfast.
Refusing to look at any of them (as per usual when running these errands), the maid uncovers the food and places them on the bench nearby. Taking out the forks and cups from the bag Nadab had previously given her, she lays them on the table.
By then, they have stopped talking. And suddenly:
"You're awfully rude, not saying good mornin'."
It's supposed to be a joke, she supposes and, a little irritated, she turns to glare at the man who had spoiled her mood further.
It's him.
She frowns even more.
"I've served you food, sir," she snaps, "I believe a 'thank you' would do."
There is a strange silence in the room but she doesn't notice, only glaring at the young man who had spoken to her the night before. He stares, shocked, at her straight figure.
"Is that all," she asks, aggravated.
"Uh," he blinks rapidly and then nods, frowning past her. "Yes, you can go."
She turns to leave but before she can make it out the doorway, she hears the rather larger man in the room ask, "Er, Captain, shouldn't we do somethin' 'bout that?"
And she realizes she had done something really, really wrong.
--x--
She expects to be called for punishment the day following. And the day after that. But nothing happens and she's on pins and needles with apprehension.
When Nadab and she are finished cleaning the kitchen, she asks, "What is the captain's name?"
Nadab throws some washcloths over to the laundry pile. "Ah, dat would be Sinbad. Known for sailing the oceans as a pirate. A legend of these seas."
She's noticed their unusual stops and loud ruckus above the deck, but she's never gone to see what is ever was. Nadab has always told her to stay below when she hears the raids--it happens at least once a week.
She's known five weeks into living on this ship, that this is a pirate's ship. However, considering her pending future in a new world, she's stared at the situation abstractly, not caring whether or not they were pirates at all. Nevertheless, she hadn't realized the captain himself had obtained such a title.
"He's searchin' fer a book of wonders," Nadab goes on, "We're close ta gettin' it."
"Magical?" she jokes, but is surprised when he nods. "Does it grant wishes?"
"Nah, not really," he tells her, "He just wants it fer ransom."
"Oh."
She then understands her world before contained one prince, whereas this world has none.
--x--
"Did ya do somethin' wrong, Cinday?" Nadab asks her the next day.
She's never lied before, she doesn't start now.
"I think so."
Nadab nods his head and sighs, rubbing the scruffy beard of his. "Uh, huh."
She takes the plates and begins washing. He walks over and places a hand on her wrist, stopping her movements.
"What did ya do, little missy?" he asks seriously.
Averting her gaze, she sighs out, "Has someone spoken to you?"
"Nah, just de captain gave me 'ere a message," he pauses, "fer you."
She shifts her footing. "A few days ago, when I served the food, I spoke to him disrespectfully. Not knowing it was him."
He bursts out laughing. She frowns.
"I'm scared and all you can to is laugh, Nadab?"
"Little missy don't have much humor, no?"
She tries putting on her feigned smile. He shakes his head.
"Guess not."
"What was the message?"
"Yer gonna 'ave to see fer yer'self, little missy."
He nods to the door and she instantly understands.
"Nadab, I cannot go alone," she says, almost panicked. "If I do, I may just run away."
He laughs again. "To drown out d'ere in de sea?"
She slumps her shoulders and begins out the doorway, gripping the broom in her hand tightly. As tempting as drowning feels at this moment, she knows this is something she has to face.
Quietly, Nadab makes his way to her; he places a hand upon her shoulder.
"Captain ain't a bad man, Cinday," he tells her softly.
And with that, she's on her way.
--x--
As she knocks on the door, she notices the broom in her hand seems more like a potential weapon, rather than a cleaning object. She's never realized how much better she feels with a single broom within her grasp before.
There's a small scuffle behind the wood in front of her and it opens suddenly, revealing a ruffled and tired-looking young man.
His eyes blink slowly and they start to show recognition.
"Ah, the kitchen girl."
She ignores the slight insult. "Nadab says you have a message for me, Captain."
Shrugging, he walks into room again, throwing his hands in the air. "You make it sound like it's such a bad thing."
Straightening her shoulders, her eyes narrow. Neutrally, "Well, it feels as if I'm being sentenced to death."
She's had enough of punishments, thank you very much. For a brief moment, she remembers the dark smirk of a stepmother and whining stepsisters, who would do anything to rid themselves of a servant girl with dreams. And they have now.
Slightly, he side glances her before gesturing inside. As she enters, she spots a faint and mocking smile upon his lips.
"Is it really that funny?"
His eyes widen, caught off guard, apparently. "No, no!" Raising his hands, indicating a type of surrender, non-offensive gesture. He still smiles but he apologizes. "I didn't mean to make you angry."
"I'm not."
A small sound of disbelief bubbles from his throat as he sits back on a nearby chair, allowing his hat fall over his eyes. His dirty boots rest atop the table lazily and she closes her eyes, telling herself that she's not going to clean that up.
"You're not a very funny girl, are ya?"
"Am I supposed to be?"
Really, she's not sure anymore. Her view on the world has suddenly opened to a large expanse. It's now a vast place, full of naughty eyes, fifthly hands and ever-changing oceans. Where she used to be able to stare outside a window and think of being a princess (maybe, just maybe) one day is now replaced by a railing, over looking seas leading to another life.
He doesn't answer and she doesn't bother. Part of her recognizes the fact she's being troublesome but it seems to be something he doesn't mind. The playful smirk upon his face indicates he finds amusement rather than annoyance. She doesn't remember being this mouthy, and she wonders if it has something to do with the newfound freedom. She likes it, actually. It's exciting having the liberty to have a leveled conversation. Before, she had been submissive to three others, having no input to anything. And a mother to small talking animals, who followed her every movement, loyal to the end.
"What did you need me for?" Because she'd really like to know, instead of standing near the door expectantly.
He picks up the hat to peek at her, grinning. "You don't like me, do you?"
"You're fine with me, Captain."
"Sure..." he pauses and frowns. "Never got your name."
She shifts her footing, uncomfortable. When the silence stretches even longer, he raises an eyebrow.
"I'm not going to use it against you," he stands suddenly, catching his hat as it falls, "Considering the fact that I don't really know how."
She steps back as he approaches. "Are we finished here?"
The captain shrugs and throws a hand in the direction of the door, a defeated and annoyed look sweeping his features. "Yeah, if you want."
She’s gone in seconds, closing the door quietly behind her.
--x--
She would have been a princess. Adorned in jewels and dresses of all sorts. A prince, clean cut and a dazzling smile, would have taken her hand and led her through a palace of marble. She would have been happy.
But she's nothing more than a kitchen maid. And, here, she wears rags of all sorts. With a pirate in charge of her life, his unkempt hair and calloused hands stir a ship made of old wood. And she's dismayed.
--x--
The first mate's name is Kale. She likes the way it rolls off her tongue, so smooth and careful. He's normally shirtless and bracelets tightened around his wrists like amour.
She likes him.
Kale's tall and bulky form intimidates many and she understands why he's so respected by others. But, sometimes, if she lingers on deck long enough, she'll hear smooth words float through the night--his soft words of encouragement. So unlike the captain's, of who’s gruff and demanding. When Kale looks her way, she takes the time to smile but doesn't stick around to see his reaction. She's fine with him just turning to her.
In a strange way, in this awful world, she thinks Kale should have been a prince. Maybe that just means she's getting use to this awful world.
--x--
Nadab has warned in the past never to go up on deck when the raids happen. But she can't stop it this time.
She's running an errand this time, mending a man's pants. When she's done, the raid has already begun. Her feet hit the deck when the canons' loud and sharp noise penetrate the air. She has no idea what ship they're attacking, but they obviously have weapons of their own as canon balls blast through the ship's exterior. Fear grasps her as gunshots resound and yelling slices the atmosphere.
The ship rocks violently and men are scrambling everywhere, reaching for ropes and weapons for the assault. A scream rips from her throat as a canon ball collides brutally with the staircase leading up to the cockpit. Chunks of broken wood goes everywhere and she hunches down to the floor in an attempt to shield herself.
She needs to get back down. She needs to get out of here.
More men yell orders at each other, bent on winning. Her eyes glance over to the other ship, close enough to spot others running about, fearing their defenses aren't enough. And, as she observes closer through the smoke and continuous gun power, she spots something makes her heart stop.
A child.
Squinting further, she realizes this child is bound and tied, held by a rough-looking man, a pistol in his hand. A hostage? Realization dawns upon her: this is a battle between two pirate ships. That child is a captive! Suddenly, she finds herself willing this fight to be over quickly. The child, black and thick hair, darts her eyes about, searching wildly and struggling. But what's she supposed to do? How can she help the child? A battle rages between them.
Then, at her horror, the man throws the girl over the edge.
A loud, piercing scream escapes her throat as she runs the railing, passing men with guns and swords. Her fingers grip the side, splinters cutting into her palms as she watches the child fall into the large, angry waves below.
It's not that she doesn't hesitate. She does.
But she dives into the water anyway.
The coldness is unbearable. It's everywhere--ice seems to form within her lungs and she feels only the cold. For a few moments, she sees nothing but darkness. Until she reaches the surface and gasps for air, she can see again. Panicked, she dives back under and searches for the little girl. Again, there is black and she can hardly see. But she squints, despite the stinging and--there. The girl begins sinking, already unconscious.
Determined, she kicks her legs in an effort to swim to the child. Her dress clings to her ankles, then wraps around, almost preventing any action at all. With each successive movement, she gets closer and closer until she grasps for the ropes around the small body. Her lungs burn and she starts to realize that it's going to take a bit longer than expected to reach the top.
Holding the small girl close, she keeps her eyes on the surface, where battle still rages and waves surely crash all around. White flashes through her vision, the yearning for air intensifying. She's passing out and she realizes it with horror.
The last thing she remembers is releasing the air out of her lungs and sinking.
--x--
A groan escapes her lips as she painfully rolls onto her side.
She's got things to do today. There's the horse and hens to feed and Stepmother won't be pleased if her morning tea isn't served on time. Oh, and there must be laundry; there's always laundry.
Opening her eyes, she frowns slightly as she sees large windows across the wall. It's not morning; in fact, it seems more like night. What's happe--?
Oh. Yes. She's not in a kingdom far, far away. She's on a ship. And strangely, she's not in that small cabin room, where she usually sleeps. Sitting up, she groans and hunches over in pain. Her head sends a sharpness through her and her chest pounds with hurt.
Getting up anyway, she limps to the door. Upon opening it, she recognizes it as the main captain's meeting room, where she had been before. And, unfortunately, there is seemingly a meeting right now.
Four pairs of eyes stop to stare at her form.
She promptly slams the door, embarrassed and bit frightened.
Finally observing her surroundings, she guesses this is the captain's bedroom, taking to account the bed she had unknowingly been sleeping on earlier and the various items of stolen things (she suspects). Not all right. Not all right at all.
The door opens, hits her head and she's thrown off balance.
"Whoa there! Are you okay?"
She glares up at the captain from the floor. And then ends up laying her forehead on the ground as another sharp pain rips through her head.
Helping her up, he laughs quietly. "It's because you decided to be an idiot and drown yourself. It's a good thing Kale saw you when he did."
Drown?
Her eyes widen as memories flood through her mind. The raid. The child. The waves.
Whipping her head to him, she ignores how close their faces are. "Where is she? She didn't die, did she?" She groans as her chest hurts by just talking.
Placing her down on the bed, he nods. "She's bundled up somewhere on the ship. Nadab is caring for her."
She stands a bit too quickly, the child in mind. Dizzy, she stumbles forward and he catches her.
"Hey, stop doing that."
Ignoring the order, she slips out of his arms and attempts to get out of the room.
"I'm fine."
"Yeah, the fact that you're moving like an old woman tells me that."
"Please," she coughs as breathing becomes an issue again, "leave me be."
She hears him mumble some cures under his breath before she's suddenly picked up and thrown over his shoulder. Gasping from both pain and shock, she kicks her legs.
"What are you doing?" she protests. "Let me walk!"
She doesn't appreciate being carried like a bag of potatoes, but he doesn't seem to care all that much as he strolls into the other room. The others stare dumbly at them as he continues out the door and onto the deck. Upon seeing Kale stare at her rather questionably, she covers her eyes in humiliation.
Her embarrassment intensifies as the rest of the crew is allowed to see.
"Please...let me down."
The smirk is heard in his voice. "Nope."
She covers her face completely until he promptly dumps her on the ground, near the cockpit, where the steering wheel is only inches from her head. Staring angrily at him, she begins her yelling.
"I simply wanted to leave!" she pays the pain no mind. "I need to see if the girl is all right."
"I told you already, the kid's fine."
"This is outrageous! Do you always act so childishly?" Sighing, she rubs her temples, still sitting on the ground. "Of course you do. You're nothing more than a pirate who cares for his own well being."
"Hey!" his yell causes her gape in fear. Gesturing to the crew, who had paused in their work to stare, he tells her, "If you hadn't noticed just yet, we take pretty good care of each other. We're not mindless, or selfish--"
"You ruin lives for a living!"
He throws his arms in the air and scoffs. "And you're feeding us food everyday. How do you like that?"
It's a fact, but she's not about to let him get the best of her.
Standing up, she limps over to the stairs and ignores him as he yells for her to come back. She's not going to listen to a rough, angry man.
She'd rather a prince than a pirate.
(Okay, so she's just taking anger out on him because her dreams have been ripped away, but he started it.)
--x--
The girl has been put in her room. Her body so frail and small, she wonders when's the last time she had been fed.
Waves seem shallower tonight, not so much rocking as the day earlier. But it's cold and she takes the only blanket to cover the little girl. She can see her breath and shivers almost overwhelm her. Why is it so cold now? Her shoes aren't enough to warm her feet and they begin to prickle with the freeze.
Vaguely, she thinks of the crew and how they're doing. Nadab sent her to give hot soup to them earlier. They didn't say anything to her and she's thankful. Mildly, she wonders if they're planning on throwing her over the boat because of her tongue. She sighs, knowing she should keep this newfound freedom of speech to herself. A captain would not tolerate her behavior and she can only imagine what a pirate captain would do.
Waking up, the girl blinks around at her surroundings. Fear pricks at her eyes until they land on her.
"...where...?"
"Shh," she places a hand upon the child's head, stroking her thick hair.
"It's fine. What is your name?"
Frowning, the girl seems to struggle to remember. Voice scratchy and whispering, "Melody."
"Good evening to you, Melody," she gets on the floor until she is at eye level with the girl on the bed. "I am Cinderella."
--x--
End part one.
I debated having Melody thrown in there, but I felt Cinderella needed to mother someone. Remember the mice she took care of?
part two.