Your Passenger

The next day sees you reading alone in your cabin. There are some calculations you could be doing, some minor alterations to the course. But the Crew are quiet and you trust them enough to guard the wheel. Sea air will do them good, just as the stuffy calm inside steadies your nerves. You did not realise how the Nixen song had affected you until you woke this morning, their lips taunting you whenever you close your eyes. And the {if Captain’s Health = 0} former {else} One-Eyed {endif} Captain’s romances used to bore you, but you cannot help but think about sex – and you need to focus your thoughts on women whose skin is pink with the flush of life and whose love comes without needle-sharp teeth.

"I need you to come for me." She whispered, her voice raspy and hot.

"Where do you want it?"

"Inside." She let herself fall back, redder than before. "I can’t believe I just said that. Ahhh – Goddess, let me – ahhh!" She bit her lip, writhing with half-lidded eyes, her body talking when the words failed her.

A furtive knock interrupts your attempted masturbation. You turn your chair, hiding a softening erection with your crossed knee, and bid enter.

The door does not open immediately as your passenger dithers at the threshold. "Is this a good time?" she asks, sticking her head inside. "I have some concerns – not concerns even – issues maybe? I can come back later if now isn’t a good time?"

You again bid her enter, assuring her that the well-being of your passengers is your chief concern.

"Thank you, First Officer" She wears linen pants and a white shirt, her face as pale as her top. "And you are sure that now is a good time? I do not wish to be a burden, and I fear me being unaccustomed to Seafaring is..."

You reassure her again.

"Thank you, First Officer, you are kind to say. I have been having dreams, nightmares. Terrors that feel so real, more real than the waking world almost. There are voices, haunting and beautiful, and I wake fearing **** by drowning – but also feeling things I cannot discuss with a man."

You explain to her that she has overheard the Nixen’s song, promising that the dreams and memories will fade with time. The danger has passed and she needs nothing but fresh air for a cure.

"I have spent quite a bit of time in that stuffy cabin. And it has depressed my mood, that much is true, but..." She pauses. "I do not wish to insult you, or your people who are no doubt honest and capable, but..." She pauses again. "But I sometimes think I feel them looking at me, looking at me in a way that makes me..." She falls silent.

You nod. {if Crew Discipline > 0} The Crew should know. You have shown them discipline and a disciplined Mariner should not be a danger to anyone but your foes – certainly not to a passenger, nor a woman so gently born. But you cannot punish or threaten their thoughts and wandering eyes – and human beasts are never truly tame. {elseif Crew Loyalty > 0} The Crew seem to like you, and you have commanded them to show your passenger nothing but courtesy and respect. But even if they obey you with deeds, their thoughts and wandering eyes are their own. And you cannot ever trust their easy smiles, nor the fickle trust they may place in you. {else} The Crew should obey you, their Captain, and you have commanded them to show your passenger nothing but courtesy and respect. But even if they obey you with deeds, their thoughts and wandering eyes are their own. And you well know the limits of their loyalty and see them for the human beasts that they are. {endif} Her worry is understandable, but her hiding in her cabin is not a solution. And so you invite her to stay with you, offering to escort her walks whenever you have a free moment.

"Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude." She feigns protests, but nods all the while, already moving closer to you and the desk.

You reassure and reiterate, doing as courtesy and custom demand.

"Well, if it is no bother..." She smiles brightly, following your outstretched hand from the table to the bed. "And this chair will be plenty, though I might borrow a book," she says, peering at the cover of the one you left out and open. "Oh." After a moment’s hesitation, the blush recedes and her smile returns, bolder and brighter than before. "A love story, is it? I haven’t had the chance, but I heard only good things. Well, apart from the inquest." She moves to the shelf and traces her fingers along the spines. "This one is supposed to be a good start. Might I impose on you?"

You swallow your answer, slow to realise her half-hearted effort to construct a polite fiction. And the one on your desk would make the true explanation ring hollow. So you nod and she takes the thin tome, sitting on her chair in demure silence.

The two of you spent the day together, mostly in amiable silence. You manage to get some work done, delaying the next volume long enough to do the most necessary calculations and to update the logbook. She at some point exclaims loud enough to make you drop your book, turning red under your gaze and mumbling some excuse. You manage to hide your own erection as you pick it up.

Her shallow breaths and your surreptitious touches put paid to all pretensions of propriety, but you calm yourself when lunch arrives. The stew is decent, better than ever before, and she is a learned conversationalist. You continue talking about Barenhaven’s more decorous diversions after, walking the deck with her arm hooked under yours.

"I have books of my own," she says at the bow. "My studies have ended, but idleness dulls the mind and the Sea wind has blown away my desperation. I hope you won’t mind the detour – or my continued imposition?"

You escort her there, sharing thoughts on arts and literature while avoiding mention of the kind of literature the {if Captain’s Health > 0} One-Eyed {else} Demeter’s former {endif} Captain collected.

She has kept the small room tidy and cleaner than you remember it, but her smell threatens to overwhelm you inside the enclosed space. Half-light hides her face, but her voice seems to tremble as she searches for her books inside the traveller’s chest. You mumble an excuse and attempt to leave, but stumble. She is hunched over, shivering as you tower over her. You have caught yourself by slamming your hands against the wall, shifting to keep your groin from touching her backside.

"First Officer," she whispers. "Take..." Silence hangs heavy as her voice falters. "Take these." She hands you the books and you stumble outside.

She follows and again hooks her arm through yours, smiling at you as you cross the deck back into your cabin. And you while away the rest of the day in companionable silence, you working and she focused on innocuous writings.

"I’m not hungry," she claims at dusk.

A few specks of red light have struggled their way through the oppressive cover of the clouds and part the shadows inside your cabin, leaving puddles where they hit. You cannot see her face, but the pulpy cover in her hand glows as if afire.

"And rather tired. Please tell the Crew not to disturb me and my rest." She notices you noticing and coughs. "I’ll borrow this, if you don’t mind. Fare thee well, First Officer, I shall think of you."

You shake her hand and after your lonely meal, you think of her. Each of you naked in your cots, alone but hot as the memories of the day wash over you. Her fingers wandering as her mind probes the edges of dream. Fiction turns to memory as you ride through the dreamlands on your noble steed, chancing upon a familiar face by an unfamiliar well.