Crossing blades

[Sinbad]

Sinbad felt angry. Angry that he couldn´t just do what needed to be done: make sure that Maeve was all rigth and get them both out of here. Angry also at the guy to his feet who had dared to threaten her. He couldn´t feel mad at the guard. The man was almost a lad still, just doing what was asked of him. And yet, there he had just offered him a way out of it. He smiled a thin smile, then his voice turned firm without him raising it. "Well that would be an idea my boy." he said. "How about we go and meet him togehter? I know the Caliph very well and he knows me. I am not sure what he would think of you throwing me and my friend in a dungeon. I am Sinbad, master of the seven seas and this city owes part of its wealth to my vessel and crew." His arms raised to show he meant no harm he still did not retreat from the guard even though the other man´s lance was almost touching his throat. "We have a long histry the Caliph and I and I am sure it would be easy enough for me to call in a favour such as letting my friend, this charming lady come with me after she had been assaulted by this thug." he made a short nod to his feet. "We can go to meet him right now and I will follow you, but the question is, my lad, if you want to meet the Caliph and telling him that you were threatening his friends?"

[Maeve]

When Sinbad spoke and introduced himself, pointing out he knew the Caliph personally, Maeve watched as the young lad’s countenance began to waver, his mouth gaping open and his sharp gaze losing its verve. As he shifted uncomfortably, his iron-tipped lance lowering, she saw a mix of doubt and wonder settle in his eyes as he looked at Sinbad in a new light, analysing whether he was speaking the truth or if he was lying. She thought the fear of doing something against the Caliph’s wishes would be enough to make him back down but instead it seemed his admiration for Sinbad was slowly taking over. Maeve held her breath, a wild hope fluttering in her chest. This could be their way out.

The young guard swallowed hard, his stiff authority dissolving by the second. “You’re Sinbad the Sailor? THE Sinbad?” he asked in disbelief, stuttering on his words.

Maeve’s heart raced in anticipation, every fiber in her body longing for the relief that would soon be within her reach. “Yes, he is,” she confirmed with a nod, her voice echoing with silent entreaty. “Please, we don’t want any trouble...”

The young officer lost what was left of his zealous attitude. “I-I didn’t know...I-It’s an honour, sir,” he stammered clumsily, quickly dipping his head at Sinbad with flushed deference and abandoning his threatening stance in a flash, tilting his spike back to an upright position. “Please, accept my apologies. I-I will make sure this man doesn’t bother you again,” he assured them with a new kind of resolve, stealing a glance at Baldy slumped unconscious to the ground.

That was all Maeve needed to hear as her entire body screamed for rest.

[Sinbad]

It was interesting to see, Sinbad thought not without some bewilderment that came at seeing the young man bend down so deeply, what effects names and reputations could have. it had not been his intention to intimidate the young guard into such submission but if it helped getting Maeve out of here, so be it. He sheathed his weapon again and, making sure the other man had an eye on the apparently unconsious thug by his feet, got a coil of rope from one of the damaged stands. Crouching down and motioning the guard to keep watch he bound the ruffian´s hands and made sure the man could not just escape.

"Now here is what we will do,"he said, not confirming or dismissing the young guard´s humbled apologies. "I am going to send the first guards I see your way and you will let me see to the lady, because I think she has had a bad enough time for now. You will stand guard over this man and see that he is put to justice. if you need help, I will gladly be your witness and I will forget this little misunderstanding ever happened." He looked up, finished with tying up the thug. "Agreed, my friend?"

[Maeve]

With every second that passed by the restless edginess in Maeve’s muscles and nerves was weakening, trading its place with the exploding sensation of exhaustion that numbed everything else except for the everlasting spin in her head. It was as if her whole body was shutting down now that the former threatening situation no longer required physical alertness on her part. Even her mind was beginning to waver with drowsiness, yearning for the moment when it could switch off completely.

But despite the weighting feeling of weakness, Maeve forced her eyes to maintain focus as Sinbad tied up another twist of rope around Baldy’s wrists, leaving a loose coil for the young guard to hold like a leash, probably to add extra control over the thug lest he woke up. Maeve could only imagine how easily the mountain of a man would overpower the boy if his bounds weren’t securely tight enough.

When the young officer took the free end of the rope from Sinbad’s hand, he nodded resolutely, the fervent glint of pride shining in his eyes. “Aye, aye, Captain.” He then turned to her, pride giving way to honest regret. “I am terribly sorry, my lady. Rest assured that this man will face justice for whatever vile actions he has committed against you.”

Battling against the heavy weariness in her joints, Maeve could only nod back at his words. “Thank you.”

She hated to think what vile crimes Baldy would have committed if Sinbad hadn’t shown up when he did. A bruised cheekbone and scratched feet would have been the least of her worries for sure.

[Sinbad]

He could tell that Maeve was not faring good, but couldn´t tell howlong she would still be able to keep on her feet. Time was of essence yet so was also to make sure that the ruffian had no chance of escaping. With some final effort, Sinbad dragged the heavy man maybe two feet to the side to be able to tie yet another robe through the man´s restrains and tie it to an iron ring that was set firmly into the wall, usually probably to tie horses, mules or cattle. That way, the young lad would not run danger of being overpowered. With another not into the younger man´s direction, assuring he would send support as soon as he saw someone, he got back to his feet and finally sheathed his dagger, before turning his full attention towards Maeve.

He wanted to hug her, to hold her, to just not let her go for the longest of times, but he could tell that for now he would have to act swiftly. He made his way over to her and slipped his arm under hers, half a hug, betraying what he felt like doing but showing that he was concerned, so concerned in fact that he would set aside his own need go embrace her fully. He couldn´t know what had happened to her, what had put her in that state so for now he would watch carefully and help her. "Do you think you can walk?" he asked in a low voice.

[Maeve]

When Sinbad’s arm slipped under hers ever so gently, a small gesture so full of raw concern and worry, his reassuring proximity was almost overwhelming and Maeve had to resist the urge to just mold into his protective embrace and never let go. She longed so badly to hold him close to her, to rekindle in the warmth of his touch, to breathe him in and lose herself in his shielding frame...Intensified by the exhaustion throbbing in her every limbs, the temptation almost made her cave in but she knew if she locked her arms around him now they would never be able to make it out of this cursed dead ended-lane.

Forcing her attention on her weary legs, she gripped his arm back for support and tried to find her balance. After allowing herself a moment to ease back into his familiar presence and the feel of him against her skin, afraid to lose herself in his eyes, she only briefly met his gaze before nodding tentatively. “I think so.”

[Sinbad]

Sinbad was at the same time relieved and concerned that she accepted his help. It could mean many things but right now it also had to mean that she felt too weak to stick to her characteristic pride and her dispising to be a damsel in distress. She had never been that to him and wasn´t now either. A remark into that genereal direction was on his mind and soon on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it and instead slipped his arm around her waist, steading her a little more. "Come on" His voice was still low and with a hint of protectiveness. "Let´s get you out of here for starters, all right?" Suppowering her, he made a few first steps towards the doorway leading out from under the arch.

[Maeve]

Maeve nodded again, this time more confidently as she leaned into him and let him guide her under the stone arch and out of the alleyway. As soon as her feet moved though, a wave of dizziness crawled up her spine into her neck and skull but she fought it off, narrowing down her sensorial world to the solid arm he had wrapped around her waist, like an anchor to her sanity and consciousness. She repeated to herself that everything was alright now, that it was over, that even if she faltered it wouldn’t matter, that she would be safe. Because he was there. With her. And that drove her onward.

Clenching her jaw, she moved with him, step by step, further away from the young guard and Baldy’s limp form on the ground. She had made it this far, she could damn well make it to the next street corner, to a nearby bench or a bunch of low crates, anything she could sit on to rest if only for a brief moment.

[Sinbad]

He could tell she wasn´t doing good and for a moment the thought crossed his mind that if the guy he had just tied up and left in the care of the younger guardsman had any accomplices who right now decided to look for their missing companion there would be nothing he could do against them for now. Fortunately, luck was on their side this time, a few paces around the archway and next corner, there were two men in the guard´s garb, looking their way with some irritation until he told them their fellow needed some help. Apparently Maeve looked so shaken that they decided to believe him rather than risk another interrogation, risking one of their own was in danger and hurried past them along the street.

By now it felt he was more carrying than supporting her and as soon as he spotted a small stone bench near a small alcove he walked her over so she could sit down. The buzz of the street was getting closer, the chatter of people and screaming of salesmen was a lot more dominant here than in that seclude, forsaken dead end they ahd come from but still he wasn´t feeling totally comfortable with the entire situation much as his heart soared to see her again he was troubled about her, worried, no idea what could have happened to her before he had found her. "We have the Nomad on anchor right at the port, not far from here," his tone was urgent, worried. "Let´s get you there so you can rest?" There was emotion edged on his face, the urge, the need to hug her and hold her close but he kept his own needs at bay, her shaken state making him aware that he needed to make sure she was all right first.

[Maeve]

By the time the distant echoing screams from the nearby commotion reached her ears, the guards they had passed were already way behind them to bring aid to their younger companion and Sinbad had led her to a stone bench underneath an isolated alcove between two market stalls. Maeve had never been so happy to see a bench in her entire life, her beaten limbs and aching joints pleading her to sit down, but then Sinbad’s urgent words grinded her to a stop. As the implications of the remote wails and the clashes of steel truly registered in her mind like a booming alarm bell, a sudden urgency flared up inside her chest and a cold shiver ran down her spine.

“Wait,” she said, pressing a hand to his chest to make him stop. As worry knotted itself in her stomach, she steadied herself on her legs again. “There are other people in trouble. Kalani and this man, they came to my help to fight off Baldy’s thugs but they’re outnumbered,” she stuttered, concern clouding her hurried words. “And Caipra is there too. We have to do something.” Maeve was ready to rush to their aid despite the spinning in her head, but she couldn’t bring herself to slip out of Sinbad's protective hold.

[Sinbad]

He hesitated at once when she made him pause, tensing up in case her movement meant she was about to faint or something similar, but relaxed quickly after she spoke. A small smirk appeared on his face, maybe the most relaxed expression Sinbad had given ever since he had turned the corner and spotted her after that brief first sparring with the thug at the end of the alley. A smirk she might recognise only too well even though he right now was not aware of that coincidence.

"I know." he said. "that´s where I came from. We saw a quarrel and tried to help out. Do you really think I am here all on my own?" He was a little worried about his brother and companion, but not too much. With their added strength the fight had already been turning to their favour and those they had tried to protect or else Sinbad would not have left the group.

[Maeve]

Relief immediately sank in at Sinbad’s words. Of course the crew was somewhere close by. They always were. She wondered why it hadn’t dawned on her sooner but worry for Caipra, Kalani and the man in black had jolted her nerves and gotten the better of her before she could even think about it. Had she not been so drained and dizzy, she probably would have made a comment to match his familiar smirk, maybe something about how he had a knack for rescuing damsels in distress, but her body was urgently beckoning her to sit down and rest, her knees and her ankles aching under her like rusty joints. The stone bench was right there next to them, just a step away, and she could probably reach it on her own but Maeve couldn’t detach herself from him, didn’t want to let him go, as if he would somehow vanish the minute they broke physical contact, which was silly.

“I guess not,” she said, her lips twitching with a weary smile. “Your timing was perfect, as usual.” Pausing, her thoughts drifted back to the dead-ended alleyway. “If you hadn’t shown up when you did...” Her voice trailed off, the smile fading away as she was unable to put into words the terror she had felt when Baldy had cornered her and choked her against the wall. She could still feel his rough hands around her neck, his icy eyes shining with fury and the promise of horrible deeds. But she quickly blinked the memory away, shutting her eyes close as a mocking wave of dizziness whirled inside her head and made her grip the arm Sinbad had coiled around her waist.

[Sinbad]

The fact that Maeve did not respond to his smirk was a reason for him to worry. He cocked his head to the side slightly, trying to assess how she was doing and by the looks of it it didn´t look good. He made a tentative step, never letting go of her, edging over a bit though so he could carefully sit her down on the stone bench, never letting go, crouching in front of her to steady her after sitting her down. "Don´t think about that anymore. Nothing happened," he said, the smirk gone, his face serious, edged with concern. "I would like to get you to the Nomad," he said, his voice low as if testing the waters. Was that okay to say? Could he assume she still saw herself as naturally a member of the crew as he did after ... what had it been? A year? Who was he kidding, he knew the exact numbers of days since she had been washed over board. He didn´t know what had happened inbetween but seeing what had happened in HIS life since then - few things of those being good - he wasn´t sure if he could assume she would agree so easily, but he had to try. "You can rest there, better than you can here."

[Maeve]

When Maeve finally sat down, her bare feet all dirty and scratched, it felt as if she’d been standing for days without pause. Even despite the fact that the dissolving soreness in her legs left behind a dull throbbing ache, as if her muscles were trying to unwind all at once, the relief that washed over her was indescribable. It was bliss. Pure bliss. And she was all the more grateful when Sinbad never let her go, maintaining his gentle grip on her arms even as he crouched down in front of her, concern shining in his eyes. Almost feeling bad for having him worry so much about her, Maeve held on to him in return but tried not to look like she was clinging to him as the vertigo sensation gradually subsided in her head.

He wanted to bring her back to the Nomad, to the safety of his ship where she could properly rest and for a moment it almost felt like old times, but the hesitation in his voice betrayed him, betrayed them. There was a silent question hidden behind his words, a question that reached far beyond the immediate situation, as if he was asking her not whether she would agree to stay on the Nomad or not until she was better, but rather if she wanted to come back at all, and with the effect of a knife twisting inside her heart, Maeve realized she didn’t really know the answer to that question herself.

Of course, there was nothing in the world she wanted more than to return to the Nomad and the crew, but at the same time she couldn’t deny the fact that what she had witnessed over the past year had seriously damaged her beliefs that everything would be the same when she came back. It wouldn’t, she realized with bittersweet regret. Everything would be different, but she couldn’t tell him that, not when he was looking at her like this. And it didn’t really matter anyway. Different or not, the Nomad was her home and the crew was her family. Of course she wanted to come back, even if it meant running the risk of having her heart broken all over again.

“Aye, the Nomad definitely sounds better than a stone bench,” she joked softly, the ghost of a sad smile trailing on her lips as her eyes locked with his, the world around her vanishing in that single moment, as if her reality suddenly narrowed down to him and him only, the echoing cries from the market place turning hollow and distant. Losing herself in his gaze, it felt as if she was seeing him for the first time, as if they’d been apart for decades. Her eyes lingered on his face, surfing on his features as she tried to engrave all of him back into her mind with all the little details she remembered.

Then it hit her.

He had shaved. Maybe two, three days ago, but he definitely had. He was also wearing his old headband again, even though he hadn’t cut his hair yet, and his face had aged, matured, a witness to all the hardships he had battled and overcome, both physical and emotional. But most strikingly, Maeve noticed once more, the heart-wrenching darkness that had shadowed his beautiful blue eyes over the past year was gone. She couldn’t explain it but it wasn’t there anymore. The only thing she could see now were the scars it had left behind, like a war wound that told the tale of everything he had gone through, of how much he had changed. With a pang of longing, she realized she didn’t really know him anymore, and yet...he was still the same in so many ways...as if he was lost somewhere halfway between the man she had known and the stranger he had become...

Absorbed in the moment, with her eyes lingering on him as if she was lost in a dream, Maeve didn’t even realize she had raised a hand to his face, her fingers softly tracing his jaw line where his skin was smooth again, just like she remembered. Oblivious to everything else, her thumb then found his chin and gently brushed away the dry blood from the split lip Baldy had given him, anger at the giant’s brutality boiling in her chest along with a sharp twinge of protectiveness.

But then her eyes traveled back up to meet his and she suddenly caught herself, realizing what she was doing. Reality crashed back on her like a ton of rock and she blinked away awkwardly, quickly dropping her hand back into her lap and clearing her throat. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, not really knowing why but feeling like she had to.

[Sinbad]

course, that she had been watching them – watching him. That she had been witness to his downwards spiral into places he, if he knew about out, would have wished she had never had to see. He would have his difficulties to explain, unable even to explain it to themselves, the places he had gone, the things he had done, all to just forget. To numb himself against the world and the sun whose light had dimmed the moment she had been washed aboard, leaving him stranded in more ways than one.

Where had she been, he wondered. Had she tried to come back to them? Or had she given up at some point the same way that lingering helplessness inside him had at some point maybe given up on ever finding her again only to aggressively turn his grief against him? There were so many questions he wanted to ask her, so many things he wanted to know to make sure she had come to no harm, to see whether at least she had remained the old, hot tempered yet light spirited girl that had meant…no, meant…so much to him. So much that her absence had turned him into someone he had not even recognized any more until her mere image, even a fake one, a cheap trick mimicking her gracious self had been enough to rouse him from the dark place he had been wandering. Remind him of the man he had been, of the man he could be.

He could not tell that her initial reason to maybe touch him was that she noticed he had shaved. He didn´t make the connection. He had had a beard and longer hair the last time they had met and he didn´t grasp the significance this had for her, the significance that it had for him without him realizing. The shaving, the old bandana…going back or trying to go back to a place that was far more innocent and with far more lights on their faces, with far less grief and pain. An attempt.

He wanted to say something, wanted to pick her up and just take her away, make sure she first of all got a good sleep and the see what followed, but her touch reminded him of all the things he had lost. Of all the things a touch could promise and never give. The touches he had received in the time since she had left yet none had ever awoken in him what this simple, feather light touch of hers, hesitant, insecure almost, evoked. Maybe it was necessary to lose some things first to notice what they really meant to you. As he thought this, he felt almost choked. Vulnerable. And at the same time more sad and more happy than he had in an entire year. What he did next was instinct, pure instinct. No double agendas, not the adventurer and seducer and rogue he had become, not the somewhat proud and cocky younger man he had been, just instinct. Protection. Emotional need. He moved in, reching up from ehre he was crowching, slowly, pulled her in his arms, pulled her face against his shoulder and just held her close.