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Chapter Text

"Almighty God! enough! enough!"

Was it a confession of remorse which thus escaped from this man's conscience?

I rushed through the library, mounted the central staircase, and following the upper flight reached the boat. I crept through the opening, which had already admitted my two companions.

"You must go! You must go!" I exclaimed.

"Directly!" replied the Canadian. "But Professor, are you sure you will not come? He has lost his mind!"

Overcome with emotion from his concern, I clasped his shoulder. "Ned, you know I cannot. But you must go!"

The Canadian began to loosen the bolts which still held them to the submarine boat.

Suddenly a noise within was heard. Voices were answering each other loudly. What was the matter? Had they discovered the flight of my companions?

The Canadian had stopped in his work. But one word many times repeated, a dreadful word, revealed the cause of the agitation spreading on board the Nautilus. It was not my companions the crew were discussing!

"The maëlstrom! the maëlstrom!" They were saying.

I exclaimed in horror.

The maëlstrom! Could a more dreadful word in a more dreadful situation have sounded in our ears! We were then upon the dangerous coast of Norway.

Was the Nautilus being drawn into this gulf at the moment my companions boat was going to leave its sides? We knew that at the tide the pent-up waters between the islands of Faroe and Loffoten rush with irresistible violence, forming a whirlpool from which no vessel ever escapes.

It is thither that the Nautilus, voluntarily or involuntarily, had been run by the Captain.

It was describing a spiral, the circumference of which was lessening by degrees, and the boat, which was still fastened to its side, was carried along with giddy speed.

I felt that sickly giddiness which arises from long-continued whirling round.

I was in dread, my horror was at its height.

What a situation to be in! What choice would preserve the lives of my companions! We rocked frightfully. The Nautilus defended itself like a human being. Its steel muscles cracked. Sometimes it seemed to stand upright, and we with it!

Under these conditions Ned and Conseil clambered into the boat, and I held onto the bars on the platform with my left hand and their boat with my right. However, I did not unscrew the other bolts, signaling to my companions that the conditions for their escape were dangerous. Ned agreed with me, stating:

"We must stop our escape attempt, and instead hold on and look after the bolts. We may still be saved if we stick to the Nautilus—"

He had not finished the words when we heard a crashing noise, the bolts gave way, and my shoulder was struck on a piece of iron, piercing flesh.

I saw, as though in slow motion, brave Conseil reaching for me from the boat, and then saw the boat, torn from its groove, hurled like a stone from a sling away from me.

Clinging to the Nautilus, I scoured the roaring sea for any sign of my companions, and saw, to my relief, that the shock had flung them almost beyond the deadly reach of the maëlstrom, and that they were both making fierce effort to move further away. I wished to stay longer, to watch them reach certain safety, but the movement of the submarine was such that I was forced to return into its hull, to face whatever fate its Captain was directing it to.

I returned to to the depths of the Nautilus in a hurry, feeling the sway and spin with every step. I did not allow myself to question my choice to stay, knowing as I did that the answer would be the same every time. I could never leave Captain Nemo.

There was nothing with which I could distract myself from the turmoil both inside and without but recollect the current that had brought me to this moment.

I was so consumed by my thoughts I did not notice that the spin of the Nautilus had eased, did not hear the relieved cries of the crew.
It was only when I heard a sharp shout from that voice I would have recognised in the depths of Tartarus that I was roused. Captain Nemo was speaking fast and loud in that unknown language to a crewmember not far from where I was.

By the clarity of sound I supposed he was by the stairs leading to the platform, and had therefore discovered the missing boat, and the escape. I heard fast footsteps to the cabin of Ned and dear Conseil, which was closer to the platform than those of myself and Captain Nemo. The footsteps then came my way, clearly intending to check my room was also empty. I had barely a moment to compose myself, then the Captain was in the salon, looking as dishevelled as I had ever seen him.

My presence brought him up short. He had clearly expected me to be gone with Ned and Conseil, and he stared at me for a long moment as if in disbelief.

"Professor, do you know that you are wounded?" Were his first, quiet words.

I confess that in the madness of Ned and Conseil's escape, I had not properly registered the sharp pain of the metal stabbing my shoulder, and in my mental anguish, had quite forgotten it. Indeed, I still could not feel it, so powerful was the adrenaline still coursing through me. Looking down I saw that almost the entire left half of my once pristine white shirt was soaked in my blood, and I let out a soft "Oh!" of surprise.

Within an instant the Captain was by my side, strong hands guiding me to sit on one of the sofas that adorned the salon. He did not make any other move to help me, however, instead standing to loom above me, saying in a merciless voice:

"What part did you play in the disappearance of your friends, Professor? Do you remain here because you felt you have a better chance of survival? From the maëlstrom? From your wound? Clearly that injury is from removing the boat from its berth. You have asked me for your freedom more than I would like. Explain yourself."

As the Captain spoke I had begun to feel stronger and stronger the effects of blood loss upon my body, and was having trouble keeping the room in focus, blinking back dark spots obscuring my vision. The adrenaline was finally beginning to fade, and the pain growing steadily until I could not suppress a moan of agony.

Once again, the Captain was at my side in an instant, kneeling before me, and his quick hands were reaching for my collar to access the wound. As he swiftly released the pearl buttons of my shirt, I reached to push his hands away, to delay the inevitable, but Captain Nemo was relentless and I was too weak to move him.

In one movement, Nemo pulled my shirt from me and uncovered both the gaping injury that still oozed blood and the stark black outline of the Nautilus that had rested above my heart throughout my life.

Chapter Text

Captain Nemo froze, the tendons in his neck and jaw made visible by tension, but his face remained still and expressionless. He made no move to speak but merely stared at that outline of his beloved vessel emblazoned across the pale skin of my chest.

When I could not bear the silence any longer, I softly explained: "So now you see, Captain Nemo, why I did not join Ned and Conseil in their escape."

At this, at last, his dark eyes met mine, filled with so many emotions I could not begin to define them. He stood, abruptly, and went to the door of the salon. I thought that he would make to leave, but instead he called to a crewmember in that language I could not decipher, his voice raw and sharp. When he returned to my side he held clean white bandages and two small glass bottles, presumably of disinfectant and pain release, as he began to apply one to my wound, and silently gave me the other to drink. As he carefully cleaned the ragged edges of the wound, I felt compelled to speak.

"Since a young age, so young I have no memories where it is not present, I had a shape that no one understood as a soulmark. That unknown and angular form over my heart was my constant companion, but long before I joined that expedition on the Abraham Lincoln I had given up hope of deciphering it, and on ever finding the other half of my soul."

At this, Captain Nemo looked up at me sharply, but did not reply. After a moments pause he returned to his work, cutting bandages to loop around my shoulder.

I continued.

"This was not always the case. When I was a younger man, I was consumed by it. I disliked then, as I do now, unanswerable questions."

At this, the Captain gave a small smile.

"It drove me to my studies, to my explorations. I felt that somewhere in this world must be the form I was looking for. But gradually I began to study and explore for the sake of scientific rather than personal discovery, and when I joined the crew of the Abraham Lincoln I did not suppose for a second that the creation we hunted was my soul."

"When I first saw the Nautilus as we hunted it, it's phosphorescent glow prevented my seeing it's structure properly. So it was not until I saw the design in the library that I realised I was onboard the mark that had so mystified me throughout my life. I considered telling you, but-" I sighed.

"But you were at first a captor, and an unknown. Even as we began to spend more time with eachother you retained a distance. I felt that to impose my, my condition upon you would be unwelcome. And after I realised that you were grieving, and that your soulmark could not match that of my own, after the Vengeur and all that followed..."

"When Ned Land and Conseil came to me to ask me to escape with them, I spoke to you on their behalf, but I never thought of it for myself. Both Ned and Conseil had already sensed my reluctance, and so when they proposed tonight's plan I swore them to secrecy and told them of my position. Without that admission I am certain they would not have allowed me to remain. So you need not worry for the safety of the Nautilus from that quarter Captain. Even if they had been tempted to reveal her secrets to the world, they will not, knowing that to do so could jeopardise my safety."

Still the Captain uttered nothing, and I knew I could delay the inevitable no longer.

"I never planned to burden you with this knowledge, I had planned to take this secret to my grave. But I was not strong enough to leave. I knew with a certainty that if I left the other half of my soul, you, the creator and Captain of this vessel, I would be lost. And beyond my certainty that my soulmark relates to you, the draw I felt to you, the enjoyment I took in our discussions and explorations-"

I took a shaky breath to steady myself, then continued.

"Even if I had no mark to guide me, it would have been impossible not to fall in love with you."

At this, the Captain inhaled sharply, almost a gasp. I realised then that his work bandaging my wound had been finished, but that he had continued to hold my shoulder, as if reassuring himself of my presence. He seemed to realise this himself at the ceasing of my words, and stood, taking a step back, away from me. He walked to the door of the salon and for a terrible moment I thought he would leave without a word.

He turned, and finally, Captain Nemo spoke.

"You will be relieved to know, after I steered the Nautilus free, I was able to observe Mr Land and Mr Conseil reach land on one of the Loffoten islands, Moskenesøya, which has a small population. You can be thus assured of their safety."

With these words he left the salon.

Chapter Text

For many days after this conversation I did not see the Captain. I dined alone, read alone in the salon and acutely missed my companions.

I treasured Captain Nemo's confirmation of their survival like a warmth in my heart. But the Captain's prolonged absence was eating away at me, and I was finding it hard to bear. The limbo state of confusion over his reaction to my confession was vexing my nerves, and none of my previous pasttimes were sufficient distraction. Sitting in the library evening after evening without seeing the Captain had become impossible, and so one evening, unable to bear the suspense of our impasse much longer, I ventured out onto the platform, first wrapping myself warmly to protect against the polar night.

At that time, the Nautilus was skirting the edge of Iceland, and I brought the sketchbook and watercolours that the Captain had thoughtfully provided near the inception of our travels, noticing my tendency to make drawings of ocean fauna among my biological musings.

Each jewel coloured watercolour paint derived, of course, from minerals mined by the Nautilus or from the plants that grow under the sea - perfect deep blue lapis lazuli from cobalt and forest green from distilled seaweed. I was hoping to sketch the curious outlines formed by icebergs in the dark, but as I emerged onto the platform that plan was immediately forgotten.

Above me, floating like the finest silk scarf of a Parisian debutant as she promenades through the Marais, was the magnetic phenomenon Aurora Borealis, commonly referred to as the Northern Lights.

The glowing sky illuminated the shine of the Nautilus's hull, and reflected off the dark sea, so that I felt suspended in some perfect chrysalis of undulating green and pink light, untethered to anything. I was helpless to do anything but stand for I know not how long, watching, mesmerised.

This state is how Captain Nemo found me.

Absorbed as I was, and silent as he was able to be on that ship that was his heart, I did not notice his presence until he was a mere two feet from me, standing as I was in observation of the night.

Without looking at me, and as though our limbo of silence had never occurred, he began to speak.

"Forgive me, Professor Aronnax, for my ungentlemanly absence these past days. When I saw that your soulmark was the Nautilus, and you confessed that you loved me I found myself unable to reply. As with our first meeting, I felt I must ponder on what you said. I do not mean to make excuses for my actions yet after the turmoil of the Maelstrom, and then to be notified of an escape by the crew... to launch myself onto the platform to see only your companions in the boat and not yourself. I feared you had been killed in the escape attempt. If this had been true I would be to blame. When I saw you injured, understood that you had remained by choice, I was far more relieved than I had any right to be. I feel I must explain."

"Unlike you, I was born with an easily recognisable soulmark. Jasmine flowers. They were my wife's favourite. You have seen her portrait in my room. I loved her from the moment we met. Her soulmark was not of the Nautilus, as yours is, but of an outline of Jahangir Mahal, the ancestral home of my family in Bundelkhand."

I made a noise of surprise at this, and he acknowledged it, saying:

"Yes, Professor, to you I am giving the history of my life that I swore never again to utter. I was known then as Prince Dakkar, son of the Hindu Raja of Bundelkhand. I have not been that man for a long time. I lost both my family and my kingdom in the Indian Rebellion of 1857."

He ceased speaking for a long moment, and when I chanced a look at him, a silvery tear was threading its way down that discerning face. I turned my gaze back skywards to allow him to grieve privately. When he had collected himself, he continued.

"She was so brilliant, my wife. She had such sharp mind with such gentle kindness, and a way of making people feel safe, putting them at ease. She never made anyone feel inadequate or unimportant. When she spoke to you, she would remember tiny details of conversations had long ago. She would speak to our children as she would to adults, so that they knew she took them seriously. But she knew how to laugh too, Professor Aronnax, how to make people smile before they even realised it. When she was killed, when my children were killed, I felt I would never smile again. My children... My two perfect children, both daughters, and both of an age to have soulmarks of their own when they were murdered. A mangrove and a candle flame, both of whom will never know what happened. That's what they took from us, from me, Professor Aronnax, the British. They took their lives and futures, and with it, my own."

"After I lost them, the life I would have lived with them, I devoted myself to scientific research, to creating a both a weapon with which to wreak just vengeance on tyrants and oppressors and a way to cease living on this imperial land where every step reminded me of those I had loved and lost. Thirty feet below sea level, the power of these terrestrial despots would cease, their influence fade, and their domination vanish! As we built the Nautilus I knew I had found independence. I would recognize no nation. I would be free!"

During this speech Captain Nemo's tone had changed to one of passion, embarking as he was on his favourite topic. He recollected himself, and proceeded in a more controlled voice.

"The day the Nautilus launched, our very first day under the sea, when evening came and I undressed, that is when I saw it. A new soulmark, next to that of my wife's. A fountain pen. Words cannot explain the anger that possessed me, Professor Aronnax, when I saw it. I had sworn myself to a life of fearful vengeance, to rage against the oppressors who had murdered my wife and children until it brought about my own end. It felt as though my own soul was rebelling against me, forcing a new soulmate upon me and so disregarding my grief, my pain, my rage. I vowed that I would ignore the presence of that elegant fountain pen until it faded from my heart. Many times I attempted to cut it from my own skin."

I could not suppress my gasp, but still we did not turn to look at one another. I felt that to look at Captain Nemo now would be equal to looking at the sun, and so I kept my eyes fixed to the night sky.

"Still, I did not anticipate the materialisation of this soulmate. Once I ascertained that the mark did not belong to any of my crew, I felt that I was safe, that the ocean and the Nautilus would keep me out of reach of any claim to my soul. I made every effort to forget its presence, and when you and your companions were first brought aboard the Nautilus the thought that any of you could be my soulmate did not cross my mind. I had spent so long disregarding it's existence that it was not until I saw you after the attack of the giant squids that I realised. You were in my library, writing your observations of the battle in your diary with my fountain pen. Though I had seen you at your studies before I had never noticed that tool of your trade, drawn as we usually were into discussion. After realising that you could be my second soulmate I was consumed by guilt for what I felt was betraying the vengeance I had sworn. I attempted to withdraw myself from you, to avoid you where I could and to be cold to you when I couldn't. By that point it was too late, of course."

Captain Nemo paused for breath, then resumed.

"You see, it did not matter that I carried your soulmark or whether or not you carried mine. I had already chosen you, long before I realised. I chose to take you to Atlantis, I chose to take you pearl diving, I chose to take you to hunt in the forests of Crespo Island. Every dinner we had, every discussion and debate we grew passionate over, every second of time with you I chose. I chose you and I chose you and I chose you. I knew every step of the way that I was turning from the anger that had been my only fuel since the death of my wife, but still I chose you. And I choose you now."

"You can be as magnetic as the skies above us, Professor", Captain Nemo stated.

I laughed softly at that, turning from the swinging curtains of light adorning the sky to look at him only to find that he was already gazing at me intently, his arresting face lit now the green of spring grass, now the dusky pink of a summer rose, now the brilliant electric purple of a autumn storm by the colours soaring above us. His coal dark eyes were looking deep into mine.

"And just as beautiful." He murmured.

I was struck silent by these words, unable to tear my eyes from his.

He came closer to me in graceful increments, slowly as though to a spooked animal, and when he was so close our condensing breath mingled in that Arctic night, slowly and steadily said:

"I love you, Pierre Aronnax, despite all the rage in my heart, despite the promises of revenge I have made, you have broken through all my walls, my offenses, and I have no more artillery with which to hold you back, and no will to keep you from me. You have extinguished forever the spirit of vengeance that has been my constant compass and replaced it with an emotion I thought I would never feel again. Dearest Pierre, I can offer you no more than what we both stand on, and my heart and my soul that both belong to you already. Could that be enough?"

My heart had beat sharply at his use of my first name, and had failed to regain any normal rhythm as he continued. I could feel it hammering, almost through my chest to where the mark of his soul was imprinted on my skin.

I found myself reaching for him, grasping him by the upper arms so I could look up into his face, which was more open than I had ever seen it. His expression as he looked at me was reverent.

My God, I thought, he loves me. He loves me. Giddy with that precious knowledge, I whispered "Never has an proposal been more generous. You offer me everything I love as though it were naut. How could I not accept?"

At my words, a smile wider than I had ever seen grace his sardonic mouth illuminated his elegant face brighter than the aurora still humming above us, and he grasped my shoulders with a gentleness that did not conceal the tensile steel  strength within him. Moving his face so near to mine that I could count the dark scimitars of his eyelashes, he murmured:

"Then, may I kiss you, Pierre Aronnax?"

In answer, I closed the distance between us, and felt his radiant grin become even broader as he smiled against my lips, and then I was being kissed.

Captain Nemo - my Nemo - kissed like he lived, like he designed, like he explored. With everything in him, and singular focus, he kissed me throughly and relentlessly until we had to part for shaky, uneven breaths.

We stood, looking into eachothers eyes. We were still holding each other in that velvety dark night, glowing under the Aurora Borealis and with our love. Soul to soul and hand to hand on that powerful vessel that had conquered the sea at its most terrible gulf. Surrounded by that country we had adopted, the ocean that we alone knew the secrets of. The judge had disappeared, and the philosopher been freed to continue his peaceful exploration of the sea.

If the destiny of our souls be strange, it is also sublime. And to the question asked by Ecclesiastes 3,000 years ago, "That which is far off and exceeding deep, who can find it out?" two men alone of all now living have the right to give an answer: Captain Nemo and myself.