Bastards

Cenhelm stood at the bow of the large ship, his eyes closed as he let the damp sea air and low creaking of the ship’s beams wash over him. It was going to storm very soon, he decided. Looking over to the side, he grinned when he saw the dark clouds off in the distance. After only a few years at sea, Cen had become quite good at guessing which way the weather would turn. Already the skies were growing dark and the wind was beginning to pick up, and he had to hold his arms out to brace himself against it.

He took in a deep breath and let his violet eyes close shut. With one hand he held his blonde hair from out of his face, the other lifting up higher as if he were reaching for the moon. The blonde tensed his body, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he tried to pretend he was part of the ship, taking each wave as it came and rolling over it. Lately, these quiet moments alone were the only time he could truly relax.

“Cen, come down before you fall overboard. I won’t have the sea taking you away from me.”



He had jinxed himself, Cen thought. Thankful the brewing storm covered up his annoyed sigh, the blonde man carefully turned around and gave his Captain a thoughtful look.

“You know I could never leave you,” he knew his smile was not as sincere as he meant for it to be as he spoke.

“Aye. I’d follow you down to the locker and bring your ass back, just so I could send you off myself!”

Despite his harsh words, Adair’s cheeks dimpled slightly as he tried to hold back a grin. “You know I can’t go on without you, my dear friend,” he said the last part quietly as he held out an arm to Cenhelm, helping him jump down onto the deck.

Unbidden, butterflies went off in Cen’s stomach at the sweet words. He knew he should be used to Adair’s ridiculous flirting by now, but those rare, soft moments from his friend never failed to set him on edge.

Following the man below deck to the galley, he allowed himself a few lingering glances at Adair. He was a few hands taller than himself, his hair a deep auburn, and skin far more tanned than his own. Cenhelm had always been envious of his friend’s build, which was much bulkier and- in his opinion- manlier than his own thin body and lean muscles. The blonde’s skin, though not pale, could never seem to catch the same kind of color his Captain and crewmates did, regardless of the countless hours he spent on deck.

Adair had the kind of handsome that made even men flush with desire, himself included. Whereas Cen knew he was condemned to be considered a “pretty boy” until old age overtook him with wrinkles.He chuckled to himself, knowing most women would kill for his problem. Only a man would bemoan forever looking younger than his real age. Maybe if he had been born a woman things would have turned out differently?

Reaching the kitchen, he could hear the sounds of their crewmates laughing loudly over their latest acquisition: bars of gold from the kingdom of Altheim. He shuddered. This last voyage had left him with a sour feeling in his gut, but the blonde dutifully kept such thoughts to himself. His Captain, no, his best friend, deserved nothing but his unfailing loyalty, he chided himself.

They had been near inseparable growing up, and when his friend confided in him that he wanted to become a sea merchant, Cen had followed without a second thought. In hind sight, he probably should have given things the tiniest bit of consideration before running away with the man. While they did transport goods to be sold, how they came about them was not the way merchants usually did. He liked to think that they never took things from people who could not do without them though, and that thought kept him from feeling too guilty about his profession.

The brunette, on the other hand, had never had any qualms about what they did, but he had always been like that. Confident, smug, ruthless… Cen knew the man owned the title of the Heartless Lord through and through, but it was Adair’s soft side that kept Cen by the man’s side. Though he only rarely saw it these days, despite it all, Adair had been nothing but good to him. So the fact that he was now a pirate, the first mate no less, of one of the most feared ships was not that big of a deal. Right?

Cenhelm sat down heavily and gratefully took the mug of ale handed to him, downing as much of it in one go as he could. Perhaps if he just drank enough of these things be okay? He hoped so.

*****

A few hours and many empty mugs later, Cen was doing pretty good. No, he was doing pretty fucking amazing! Why had he been so prissy? Life was good, and so was this ale they had also commandeered from the Alths. One of his mates, their navigator Bonne, nudged him in the side with an elbow. The two of them were the only ones left in the galley drinking.

“Tha’ captain said ya tried to jump overboard again,” he snickered.

“Fuck ya, I was watching the storm come in,” Cen countered back. With an evil smirk, he leaned in to whisper into Bonne’s ear. “Adair said you got turned down by our carpenter again.”

Bonne’s shoulders sagged slightly, before Cen suddenly found himself toppled off the bench they had been sitting on, and on the floor with an armful of navigator.

“Say tha’ again, jerk. Eh hasn’t turned me away, he jus’ hasn’t realized my feelin’s are true yet.”

He’d really done it now. Bonne’s long, blonde hair was usually kept up tight on the top of his head in a neat bun, but now it was loose and parts were falling over his shoulders and into Cenhelm’s face. The navigator never let his hair down unless he was, well, drunk off his ass and feeling feisty-- like now.

“Or maybe he doesn’t prefer silly blondes,” Adair’s sharp voice sobered them both. He made no effort to hide the satisfied look on his face as he watched them both scramble to their feet and try to appear less buzzed than they were. Clearing his throat, he looked pointedly at Cenhelm. “Leave us, Bon. I need to speak with my first mate alone.”

Not missing the brunette’s possessive tone, the navigator threw Cen a smirk before skulking out of the galley and towards the bunks to pass out.

For the second time that night Cen found himself unexpectedly pushed down, but this time a much heavier body covered his, and he was engulfed in the salty musk of Adair instead of Bon’s drunk stench. Before he could say anything, his lips were caught in an angry kiss. Adair’s teeth nearly bit into his own, and he tasted a hint of blood. After a few moments, the man pulled back and laughed at the blank look he must have had on his face.

“Do not forget whom you belong to, my darling Cenhelm.”

 

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Author's Note: Hello! I hope you enjoy the first chapter. This story is something that has been rolling around in my head for quite a while, and I'm excited to start posting it to AFF. I'm new to this, so any and all input is appeciated! :)