Cutting Candor

It took only two more days for the summons Vel was waiting for to arrive. The note specifically asked him to meet her on the deck of her ship. Not her quarters. Not his. The deck. That was not without reason. Fionne wanted this meeting to take place out in the open. Why? In all likelihood she wanted the crew to see that she was still in charge, still the commanding officer. That was understandable, she no doubt felt like control was slipping away in the aftermath of Vel’s magical heroics.

The men who rowed him across to his aunt’s vessel did their best not to let it show and acted with the usual deference a sailor shows to a flag officer and nobleman, but Vel could feel their quiet awe. Had they been less disciplined they’d no doubt have gawped and stared at him for the entirety of the very short trip.

He found his aunt immediately upon swinging his legs over the railing, relishing the sensation of two intact feet slamming onto the deck beneath him. He might have had two working legs for months now, but he still took incredible joy in it. Fionne was only a few paces away, looking incredible in her immaculate admiral’s uniform and with her luscious red hair blowing in the ocean breeze. She did not turn her head to look over, but Vel was certain she’d seen him. She was deliberately waiting for him to come over to her before acknowledging his presence. So be it, Vel crossed over to her in a few determined strides.

As he came to a halt beside her, his aunt finally turned to him, and of course she did so with a dazzling smile.

“You wished to see me, Lady Admiral?”

As he expected, his aunt didn’t object to how formal he was being this time. She remained as informal with him as ever though.

“Ah, Velas dear. Always a delight to see you.”

To anyone even slightly less perceptive than Vel, her act would probably be very convincing. She looked genuinely delighted to see him.

“Walk with me, will you, Nephew?”

She gestured for him to walk beside her as she turned, and the two slowly made their way towards the prow of the ship, talking about the more mundane yet still important aspects of a seagoing mission such as theirs. The conditions of hull and sails, the state of provisions, and so on. Fionne was by no means being overly bossy, but Vel did feel a bit like he was being paraded in front of her crew as he made his reports. He was happy to play along though, for now.

When they reached the prow, they suddenly found themselves alone. As alone as one could be on a fully crewed ship. There were of course people in sight, but no one looked to be in earshot. Vel judged it a good opportunity to be a bit more direct with his aunt.

“As nice as this has been, you did not summon me over here for such mundane matters. What do you want, dear aunt?”

Briefly, for less than a second, her mask slipped. Vel glimpsed a brief look of intense concentration before her usual serene manner returned.

“I think a better question might be: what do you want, Velas?”

He had not been expecting that, and Velas found himself briefly wrong-footed. As with any able predator though, a glimpse of weakness was all it took for his aunt to pounce.

“You’ve resisted all my efforts at seduction. You played along just enough to make me believe it was working, but it has become clear to me that it wasn’t. In fact, you seem to have acted the young boy when it suited you, but then you’re a confident grown man galivanting off with mermaids and controlling the wind when you want to be.”

Vel knew he was standing still, but in his mind, he felt like he was stumbling away from his aunt, arms flailing as he struggled to stay mentally balanced. If the initial surprise of her question had set him off-balance, Fionne was now brutally pushing her advantage with this unexpected candor. It didn’t help that all her usual affectations were gone. Her tone was completely matter of fact, devoid of humor or seduction. He needed to strike back, to regain the advantage, or at least equal footing.

He had begun with candor. She had answered with something sharper: honesty stripped of pretense. Feeling like his mental feet were finally finding purchase on solid ground again, Vel decided to counter like with like. Truth with deeper truth. Slowly, deliberately, he exhaled through his nose.

"A confident grown man, one you can’t manipulate. That scares you far more than any mermaids or magic, doesn't it?”

Vel took a short breath, savoring the brief look of shock on Fionne’s face.

“You’ve built a life on subtle control. To stand before something that won’t yield to it must feel deeply unnerving. Perhaps even terrifying.”

Without needing to even reach for her mind, Vel could see Fionne’s iron composure reasserting itself. It was time to finish this before it could, to deliver the final blow

“But how about, just this once, you try just asking for what you want. Negotiation, rather than manipulation.”

Vel allowed a slight, self-satisfied smile to creep over his features.

"So, I ask again, what do you want?"