When the Time Has Come to Fly - Chapter Two: One Bright Star
Title: When the Time Has Come to Fly - Chapter Two: One Bright Star
Pairing: Rould/Myde
Written For: samurai_usagi, who roxas my soxas.
Type: everything
Rating: PG-...R? dunno how it'll be in later chapters.
The moon was high in the sky and most of the sailors on the off-shift were fast asleep, tucked in their hammocks.
All but one.
Myde slumped against the rough wood of the hull, tucked in the little space at the crook of the bow. It... had been a LONG evening. For one, he didn't know a damn thing about sailing, and two, as the newest recruit, he's been relegated to the lowest, hardest tasks.
He sighed heavily and wished he could fall asleep... but the motion of the ship was too different from the music he was used to.
It was then that he remembered why he'd come out here, in particular.
He strugged to his feet, muscles aching - and his hands were raw and red from the hard work. He'd have to work to keep them sensitive.
There it was. He grabbed a handle that was barely peeking out from a pile of wet rope, and tugged. And tugged.
It was no use - the case was stuck under the rope, and there's no way he was strong enough to get it out.
"Need help?"
Myde jumped - he hadn't even noticed anyone else around him. But it seemed that the captain moved soundlessly, for Myde's ears were very good. "Er. It's nothing, I just..."
Rould leaned down and grabbed the handle with his right hand - one fantastic TUG, and the case in question was free.
He held it up, frowning. "An instrument?"
Myde nodded. "I wasn't sure where to put it - I didn't want it to get damp in the hold..."
Rould ruffled his hair. "Good lad. I've seen many a beauty destroyed that way." He handed the case to Myde, who almost dropped it, he was so relieved. "What is it that you play?"
"Um... it's called a sitar." He unbuckled the clasps, and yanked up on the top - it was old, so it stuck a little - and lifted out his baby.
Rould watched, face impassive. It was like nothing he'd ever seen before - sort of like a gitar, but a much stranger shape. And it was blue.
"Oh... they're not usually this color, I painted it myself." He blushed - the paint was a little uneven, but he was proud of it nonetheless. He struck a chord, then shook his head and reached up for the tuning pegs.
Rould took a seat on the pile of rope and smiled. "You any good?"
"Yes! Er..." Myde bit his lip. "At least, I've been told so." He cleared his throat and sat down on an upturned crate, then finished tuning. He plucked at a string, and Rould was surprised to hear a low, vibrant tone that kept ringing... and ringing.
"Play something," he said, gesturing.
Myde looked up, then nodded. He stopped the note, and chose a different one - and that became the starting note for an intricate, melancholy melody that reverberated in the heart and soared over the sky.
At first, Rould was watching Myde - his delicate fingers on the strings, the peaceful expression on his face... but then his gaze wandered, and he stared out over the sea... and thought of things like home, and family, and love.
There was a long pause as the last note died away.
"...Does it always do that?" Rould murmured quietly into the night.
"Not always," Myde whispered, just as shaken by the mournful melody. "It... depends."
"On you?" Rould turned his piercing gaze onto the boy once more, and as their eyes met, he realized that Myde... really wasn't a boy. Oh, innocent in many ways, he was sure... but those were eyes that had seen sorrow, and hardship, and grief.
He shook his head. Such was the power of the moon and the ocean, making men mad.
Myde nodded, and it took Rould a moment to remember what he'd asked. "This is the first time I've ever been out at sea."
Rould's eyebrows shot up. "You don't say." He frowned. "You know, most landlubbers lay abed sick for days, their first time out at sea."
Myde shrugged. "I've always loved the ocean." He was staring out over the prow of the boat, now, off into the horizon. "I feel... drawn to it, somehow. Does that make sense?"
Rould chuckled, but shook his head as the boy shrank back. "Not laughing at ye, boy. Laughing because there's not many who could understand you but us - ones who make our living by these waves." He stood up and swept an arm out, gesturing to expanse of blue surrounding them. "Pirates, actors, merchants... we don't care about those titles, as long as we have a tall ship and a star to steer her by!"
Suddenly Myde's face broke into a smile, and Rould found himself faltering for words. It wasn't supposed to be like this.
He wasn't supposed to be... beautiful.
~~~
The rest of the week was a blur of hard work and not enough sleep for Myde, the newbie sailor. More than once he could feel Captain Rould's eye on him, and he shivered - with apprehension or satisfaction, he didn't know. A part of him was afraid of the Captain's attention... and another part of him craved it.
But more often than not, the reason for the scrutiny was a mundane one - he was doing something wrong, and it was those times that Myde blushed the worst and fumbled with whatever he was doing. It made him horribly self-conscious.
As for the other times... Myde tried to push the thought away, but it was nagging there at the back of his mind, as surely as the nagging feeling that he was being watched.
He whipped around as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, but the Captain was facing the other way entirely, pointing out something on the horizon to one of the sailors.
"What was that for?" Marcus muttered, confused because there was absolutely nothing out there.
"...Thought I saw something." Rould scowled. Either he was getting worse at ogling, or Myde was exceptionally observant. And he'd bet a lot of gold he didn't have on the first one, so the second must be true.
He sighed. He didn't have time to go mooning after cabin boys. Jack would be wanting his compass back, and he -
He compass was no longer pointing straight ahead.
In fact, it was pointing straight behind him.
Right at Myde.
Rould groaned. What was the point of having a compass that pointed at what you wanted when you couldn't control what you wanted? Well, they'd been on a straight course for a while, so if they just held their position and kept going forward, they ought to be all right until he could figure out a way to get past this.
He stomped down to the captain's quarters and decided, with relish, that the only way Myde was going to go away is if he was too drunk to remember him. What a wonderful plan.
And he just so happened to have some rum in the lovely pile of Jack Sparrow's belongings. Even more wonderful!
And now... to drink.
~~~
"I once knew a farmer who took a young miss!"
"Sir..."
"Out back of the barn where he gave her a - "
Rould swung out of the way of a punch, graceful even intoxicated.
" - LECTURE on horses and chickens and eggs, and told her that she had such beautiful - "
"No use, Cinna, he's drunk off his ass."
" - MANNERS with suited a girl of his charms, a girl that he wanted to take in his - "
"Can't someone shut 'im up?"
" - WASHING and ironing and then once he did, then they would get married and raise lots of - "
"Nope. He gets stronger when he's drunk, he's like a fuckin' grizzly bear."
"Sweet violets~!" He was swinging around the support beams now, causing people to jump hastily out of his way. "Sweeter than all the roses! Covered all over from head to toe, covered all over with..."
And he trailed off, as he caught sight of a somber young man in the corner.
"MYDE! You haven't had anything to drink yet, lad!"
"I don't want to."
"That's no talk for a sailor! Drink up! Everyone's prettier when they're drunk! 'Cept you look the same, prolly cuz you can't get any prettier!" Rould laughed at his own joke, but Myde caught Blank giving Marcus an alarmed look. "You're so... pretty!" Rould had his arm around Myde now, and he tried to slip away, but the grin on his shoulder was like iron. "So very... very pretty..." He staggered, and almost crashed Myde into a beam.
"Rould!" Cinna waved a hand in front of his face. "Rould? ROULD!" He sighed heavily. "Oh mother of mercy, it's no use..."
Blank shook his head. "Why'd he have to go and get smashed today? He usually never drinks more'n a glass of wine at night when he's out at sea..."
Myde heard the conversation but he was too busy worrying about getting crushed, or raped. Either seemed entirely possible at the moment.
"Myde~ have sex with me~" Rould whined.
Myde almost choked on his own spit. "W-what?!"
"Have sex with me...." He staggered again, and this time he fell into a table, and somehow Myde ended up on top of him.
"Don't want to..." Myde was shaking a little, but he couldn't pull away, Rould was too strong. "Not really..."
"COURSE YOU DO!"
"Rould! That's enough."
At the sound of that ringing voice from the doorway, everyone immediately quieted. The man - he was barely even a man, just out of teenagehood - with shoulder-length blonde hair, blue, a sopping wet white shirt... and a tail.
"But... Myde's so pretty."
"And you're drunk." He strode into the room, and suddenly held a knife in his hands, hilt-down. Without further ado, he cracked Rould on the skull, hard, sending him firmly into unconsciousness.
Suddenly the atmosphere seemed a lot less tense, and the man - well, he couldn't be called a man, not with that cheerful smile and bright eyes. "Well! You're Myde, right?"
"Uhhh..." Myde slid out from under Rould's arm, and tried to straighten out his bandana. "...Yeah."
"Great! It's nice to meet you." He held out a hand to shake, his expression honest and strong.
Myde took the hand, totally unsure of how he was supposed to act around this... stranger, who belonged here.
"I'm Zidane."
{ + }
A/N: Oh yeah. DRUNK ROULD! XDDD. He'll be regrettin' it in the morn~...
Pairing: Rould/Myde
Written For: samurai_usagi, who roxas my soxas.
Type: everything
Rating: PG-...R? dunno how it'll be in later chapters.
The moon was high in the sky and most of the sailors on the off-shift were fast asleep, tucked in their hammocks.
All but one.
Myde slumped against the rough wood of the hull, tucked in the little space at the crook of the bow. It... had been a LONG evening. For one, he didn't know a damn thing about sailing, and two, as the newest recruit, he's been relegated to the lowest, hardest tasks.
He sighed heavily and wished he could fall asleep... but the motion of the ship was too different from the music he was used to.
It was then that he remembered why he'd come out here, in particular.
He strugged to his feet, muscles aching - and his hands were raw and red from the hard work. He'd have to work to keep them sensitive.
There it was. He grabbed a handle that was barely peeking out from a pile of wet rope, and tugged. And tugged.
It was no use - the case was stuck under the rope, and there's no way he was strong enough to get it out.
"Need help?"
Myde jumped - he hadn't even noticed anyone else around him. But it seemed that the captain moved soundlessly, for Myde's ears were very good. "Er. It's nothing, I just..."
Rould leaned down and grabbed the handle with his right hand - one fantastic TUG, and the case in question was free.
He held it up, frowning. "An instrument?"
Myde nodded. "I wasn't sure where to put it - I didn't want it to get damp in the hold..."
Rould ruffled his hair. "Good lad. I've seen many a beauty destroyed that way." He handed the case to Myde, who almost dropped it, he was so relieved. "What is it that you play?"
"Um... it's called a sitar." He unbuckled the clasps, and yanked up on the top - it was old, so it stuck a little - and lifted out his baby.
Rould watched, face impassive. It was like nothing he'd ever seen before - sort of like a gitar, but a much stranger shape. And it was blue.
"Oh... they're not usually this color, I painted it myself." He blushed - the paint was a little uneven, but he was proud of it nonetheless. He struck a chord, then shook his head and reached up for the tuning pegs.
Rould took a seat on the pile of rope and smiled. "You any good?"
"Yes! Er..." Myde bit his lip. "At least, I've been told so." He cleared his throat and sat down on an upturned crate, then finished tuning. He plucked at a string, and Rould was surprised to hear a low, vibrant tone that kept ringing... and ringing.
"Play something," he said, gesturing.
Myde looked up, then nodded. He stopped the note, and chose a different one - and that became the starting note for an intricate, melancholy melody that reverberated in the heart and soared over the sky.
At first, Rould was watching Myde - his delicate fingers on the strings, the peaceful expression on his face... but then his gaze wandered, and he stared out over the sea... and thought of things like home, and family, and love.
There was a long pause as the last note died away.
"...Does it always do that?" Rould murmured quietly into the night.
"Not always," Myde whispered, just as shaken by the mournful melody. "It... depends."
"On you?" Rould turned his piercing gaze onto the boy once more, and as their eyes met, he realized that Myde... really wasn't a boy. Oh, innocent in many ways, he was sure... but those were eyes that had seen sorrow, and hardship, and grief.
He shook his head. Such was the power of the moon and the ocean, making men mad.
Myde nodded, and it took Rould a moment to remember what he'd asked. "This is the first time I've ever been out at sea."
Rould's eyebrows shot up. "You don't say." He frowned. "You know, most landlubbers lay abed sick for days, their first time out at sea."
Myde shrugged. "I've always loved the ocean." He was staring out over the prow of the boat, now, off into the horizon. "I feel... drawn to it, somehow. Does that make sense?"
Rould chuckled, but shook his head as the boy shrank back. "Not laughing at ye, boy. Laughing because there's not many who could understand you but us - ones who make our living by these waves." He stood up and swept an arm out, gesturing to expanse of blue surrounding them. "Pirates, actors, merchants... we don't care about those titles, as long as we have a tall ship and a star to steer her by!"
Suddenly Myde's face broke into a smile, and Rould found himself faltering for words. It wasn't supposed to be like this.
He wasn't supposed to be... beautiful.
~~~
The rest of the week was a blur of hard work and not enough sleep for Myde, the newbie sailor. More than once he could feel Captain Rould's eye on him, and he shivered - with apprehension or satisfaction, he didn't know. A part of him was afraid of the Captain's attention... and another part of him craved it.
But more often than not, the reason for the scrutiny was a mundane one - he was doing something wrong, and it was those times that Myde blushed the worst and fumbled with whatever he was doing. It made him horribly self-conscious.
As for the other times... Myde tried to push the thought away, but it was nagging there at the back of his mind, as surely as the nagging feeling that he was being watched.
He whipped around as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, but the Captain was facing the other way entirely, pointing out something on the horizon to one of the sailors.
"What was that for?" Marcus muttered, confused because there was absolutely nothing out there.
"...Thought I saw something." Rould scowled. Either he was getting worse at ogling, or Myde was exceptionally observant. And he'd bet a lot of gold he didn't have on the first one, so the second must be true.
He sighed. He didn't have time to go mooning after cabin boys. Jack would be wanting his compass back, and he -
He compass was no longer pointing straight ahead.
In fact, it was pointing straight behind him.
Right at Myde.
Rould groaned. What was the point of having a compass that pointed at what you wanted when you couldn't control what you wanted? Well, they'd been on a straight course for a while, so if they just held their position and kept going forward, they ought to be all right until he could figure out a way to get past this.
He stomped down to the captain's quarters and decided, with relish, that the only way Myde was going to go away is if he was too drunk to remember him. What a wonderful plan.
And he just so happened to have some rum in the lovely pile of Jack Sparrow's belongings. Even more wonderful!
And now... to drink.
~~~
"I once knew a farmer who took a young miss!"
"Sir..."
"Out back of the barn where he gave her a - "
Rould swung out of the way of a punch, graceful even intoxicated.
" - LECTURE on horses and chickens and eggs, and told her that she had such beautiful - "
"No use, Cinna, he's drunk off his ass."
" - MANNERS with suited a girl of his charms, a girl that he wanted to take in his - "
"Can't someone shut 'im up?"
" - WASHING and ironing and then once he did, then they would get married and raise lots of - "
"Nope. He gets stronger when he's drunk, he's like a fuckin' grizzly bear."
"Sweet violets~!" He was swinging around the support beams now, causing people to jump hastily out of his way. "Sweeter than all the roses! Covered all over from head to toe, covered all over with..."
And he trailed off, as he caught sight of a somber young man in the corner.
"MYDE! You haven't had anything to drink yet, lad!"
"I don't want to."
"That's no talk for a sailor! Drink up! Everyone's prettier when they're drunk! 'Cept you look the same, prolly cuz you can't get any prettier!" Rould laughed at his own joke, but Myde caught Blank giving Marcus an alarmed look. "You're so... pretty!" Rould had his arm around Myde now, and he tried to slip away, but the grin on his shoulder was like iron. "So very... very pretty..." He staggered, and almost crashed Myde into a beam.
"Rould!" Cinna waved a hand in front of his face. "Rould? ROULD!" He sighed heavily. "Oh mother of mercy, it's no use..."
Blank shook his head. "Why'd he have to go and get smashed today? He usually never drinks more'n a glass of wine at night when he's out at sea..."
Myde heard the conversation but he was too busy worrying about getting crushed, or raped. Either seemed entirely possible at the moment.
"Myde~ have sex with me~" Rould whined.
Myde almost choked on his own spit. "W-what?!"
"Have sex with me...." He staggered again, and this time he fell into a table, and somehow Myde ended up on top of him.
"Don't want to..." Myde was shaking a little, but he couldn't pull away, Rould was too strong. "Not really..."
"COURSE YOU DO!"
"Rould! That's enough."
At the sound of that ringing voice from the doorway, everyone immediately quieted. The man - he was barely even a man, just out of teenagehood - with shoulder-length blonde hair, blue, a sopping wet white shirt... and a tail.
"But... Myde's so pretty."
"And you're drunk." He strode into the room, and suddenly held a knife in his hands, hilt-down. Without further ado, he cracked Rould on the skull, hard, sending him firmly into unconsciousness.
Suddenly the atmosphere seemed a lot less tense, and the man - well, he couldn't be called a man, not with that cheerful smile and bright eyes. "Well! You're Myde, right?"
"Uhhh..." Myde slid out from under Rould's arm, and tried to straighten out his bandana. "...Yeah."
"Great! It's nice to meet you." He held out a hand to shake, his expression honest and strong.
Myde took the hand, totally unsure of how he was supposed to act around this... stranger, who belonged here.
"I'm Zidane."
{ + }
A/N: Oh yeah. DRUNK ROULD! XDDD. He'll be regrettin' it in the morn~...