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This story begins as all others do, behind closed eyes. The first mate dozed on the deck of her captain’s ship; half asleep half awake. She listened to the distant roars of rowdy laughter coming from the dining hall, a slight smile gracing her roughened features. The stomping of boots is what drew her out of her half slumber. Her captain rose into view, back turned to the setting sun as they walked. The first mate turned her face to her captain, silently conveying a ‘hello’ and the captain returned the sentiment aloud. There was a swishing of a cloak, and the captain was laying down beside their first mate. A comfortable silence fell across the heads of the ship, falling so easily back into a routine they both knew so well. The first mate reached out and began to trace soft patterns into the charred skin of her captain’s arm, humming along to the quiet music echoing from within the hull of the ship.
They sat like that, sharing warmth in the dying sun until the first mate hauled herself up and held a hand out to her captain. They grinned lazily and pulled themself up. Arms wrapped around waists and fingers interlocked as the pair began to dance, moving in tandem. Eventually, eyes closed, and they each displayed their deep running trust for the other. The first mate allowed her captain to lead her, following them like she always had. Like she always would. Be it into battle or dance, they lead, and she followed. The first mate knew that the ache in her heart was part of swearing herself to her captain, and that while it would never be alleviated, it would serve as a reminder to whom she loved.
The captain smiled and stepped back, enjoying the way their first mate followed so quickly. They admired the worn face of their first mate, silently counting the freckles that covered her sun kissed skin. As they danced, the captain begun to recognise the music, remembering the songs that were played by their musician. And so, as one does when they are with the one they love, they began to sing. Softly at first, and in that tired, scratchy voice you develop when you have to command a ships crew in battle. The first mate began to melt as the low singing reached her ears, falling a little bit more in love with every word.
The captain fell slowly, taking their time in handing their heart over to their first mate. They trusted her, of course they did. But this kind of love was new, was ingrained as wrong within their mind and they had to rework the pathways of their brain to accept the feelings. But when they did finally allow themself to admire their first mate. To absorb her beauty and her personality into their soul, they finally understood what it meant to be a pirate. What it meant to be free. Freedom was the dream of all true hearted pirates. But not all found it. But here, slow dancing with their first mate, the captain found it. And in this freedom, they found courage. The courage they found drove them forward, surging until their lips met hers.
The first mate froze when she felt her captain’s lips on her own but leant into the gentle touch when she realised that this was happening, that the ache would finally be soothed. And when she pulled back, she saw the lovestruck way her captain stared at her, and she felt sure that the same look was settling in her eyes. Smiling brightly, she moved forward, returning the gentle kiss. The way her captain’s harsh features melted into something softer, something reserved for her and her alone caused her heart to melt. And so, first mate and captain spent the night on the deck, counting stars and freckles, and smiling until their cheeks hurt from the strain. And the next morning their crew found the pair, side by side under the captain thick cloak. And the crew smiled, because two hearts had finally found relief. Because the smile their captain wore was something they hadn’t seen in months.