Chapter Text
Today, it is raining. Seems to be a brewing storm.
The crew's murmurs of displeasure can be heard across the entire ship. All similar in their gripe: “Damn sea dragons.”
The rain drops pelt onto the ships deck, rolling off of the edges of the boat. A captain slips out of his chambers, moving confidently across the swaying floors. His thin, cream-colored shirt is open from the collarbone to the middle of his abdomen. A hat sits crooked atop his head, black and grey strands peeking from below, shielded from the rain. Treatment that the rest of his body does not receive. His dark pants cling to his body and his shirt slightly see-through from the water.
Seeming very relaxed, he strides from the captain’s quarters to a room below deck with several children and a few adults inside. As he opens the door the children rush to him, “Wriothesley!”
There is a child attached to each one of his limbs, hanging off his arms wrapped around his legs and crawling up his back to sit on his shoulders. The number of scared crewmembers was very few, so most adults here had taken on chaperone duty. They all scrambled to scold their respective child.
“What did I say about calling him by name?”
“Get off the captain, darling.”
Wriotheseley grins, “Why can’t they call me by name? It’s not like it’s a secret,” He glances down at the children. “Hey, you lot. Feelin’ better now? I heard you were scared of the coming storm, aye?”
The children stiffen and pull themselves off Wriothesley, taking turns faking their own bravery.
“What? Pfft. Of course not, I could never be scared of a puny little storm.”
“Yeah, I could beat up that storm if I wanted.”
Wriotheseley chuckles before sitting down cross-legged. Looking across the children. “Hmmmm… Is that so..? Well, let this captain tell you a story about why we have such storms, it could help you feel better about them.”
The children stopped their various boasting and sat down, always eager to hear the captain’s stories.
“Do you all know where storms come from?”
“Yes, yes! The sea dragons!”
“Yes.” Wriotheseley hums, “The sea dragons… It is said that storms are created by the sadness of a sea dragon. Because sea dragons are so rare and extraordinary, it takes only one to feel a great sadness to create a storm that could wipe out a whole mountain… However, a dragon will only truly shed a tear once or twice in their lifetime. In order for them to shed this tear, they must feel only the most overwhelming sadness or the most joyous cheer.
“These tears, once shed, will turn into the most beautiful jewel in the world. This jewel contains their soul. It is said that if it breaks, then the dragon that shed it will die. So during a storm, we know that, although the dragon is experiencing a great sadness, at least they’re not truly crying.”
“Wow.” Some of the kids whispered among themselves, the pitter patter of rain hitting the deck above echoing throughout the room. “That’s sad.”
Continuing, Wriothesley says, “A long time ago, my mother taught me a rhyme that was meant to help soothe the dragon’s souls and help them find their lifelong partners. Would you like to hear it?”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!”
“It goes like this; ‘Sea dragon, sea dragon, why have you cried? Let your tears wash away and roll off with the tide. Though it seems like the sun never will rise, one day you’ll have your fated to stand by your side.’”
The children softly repeat it back to him, closing their eyes, trying to relay their message to the sea dragon, “Sea dragon, sea dragon, why have you cried? Let your tears wash away and roll off with the tide. Though it seems like the sun never will-” A loud thud sounds above their heads, accompanied by yelling.
Wriothesley quickly stands and rushes to the deck. The rain has gotten heavier, but nothing seems amiss on deck… Except for a person laying across it.
A man, it seems, his long flowing hair sprawled on the deck and partially stuck to his body. His clothes had bright red splotches and slashes across them, torn in various places.
Wriothesley approached and examined the man. Hints of blue shone through his bright silver hair and he was adorned with several gold and blue accessories. His eyes were closed and his eyelashes sat neatly atop his cheeks. He looked quite peaceful, making for quite a beautiful sight. Wriothesley couldn’t help but stop and stare at the man for a moment. He looked quite… otherworldly.
As he looked over the man his eyes once again caught on the splashes of red interrupting this peaceful and undisturbed scene before him, suddenly pushing him back to his senses.
Jeez, what am I sitting here thinking about an injured man. Wriothesley thought before placing his arms below the beautiful man’s back and the crook of his knees to lift him up.
With the man still in his arms, he turns to the crew. “I will tend to this man and make sure that he means us no harm. The rest of you, continue to work the ship. If you see any land, report back immediately.”
The crew responded with mismatched Aye, Capt’n’s, varied in both pitch and timing. Wriothesley carefully headed to his quarters, making sure his movements wouldn't aggravate the wounds of the beautiful man that he was now carrying in his arms.
‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊
It was a quite long time before the mysteriously ethereal man opened his eyes.
So long, in fact, that Wriothesley had dozed off a bit.
The silver haired man grunted several times and squinted as he forcibly pried open his tired eyes. His brow furrowing even further as he attempted to adjust to the lighting of the room. His arm moved to prop himself up, but his limb prickled at having not been used for quite a while and he was forced back down to the bed where he laid.
These sounds are what woke up the silently sleeping Wriothesley from his spot in a wooden chair a couple feet from the bed.
“You’re up? How’re ya feeling, ay?” He stood from his chair and approached the man laying down, bending into a crouch so that they would be eye-level to each other.
“Ughhh…” The man slowly sits up. His silver hair falling around his face and over his shoulders. With his eyes open, Wriothesley felt that the man somehow gave off that mystical aura even more.
“Yeahhhh, you’ve probably been better, huh? What’s your name, mate? How’d you end up caught up in the storm?”
“Neuvi-” He cuts himself off, looking towards Wriothesley with wide eyes. He shuffles to back up against the wall the bed is up against. Fear rims his gaze, searching both the unknown man sitting in front of him and the room he is trapped within.
“Oh, sorry! Umm.. Neuvi? Nice to meet you! I’m Wriothesley, the Captain of this ship. You just so happened to wash up here on deck, looking a little tattered, so I applied some ointment here and there. Just tryin’ to help ya out! No need to worry!” A huge grin plasters itself across his face, warm and genuine.
After determining that this man does not seem to harbor ill intent, for the first time since waking up, Neuvillette looks at himself. He was wearing a white shirt and black pants, both long enough to fit him, but slightly oversized.
It seemed as though the other man, Wriothesley, was it?, had given him some of his own clothes.
Beneath the clothing he could see bandages on his chest and after pulling up his sleeves, he found some on both of his arms. He assumed that what was lying under the slightly oversized pants was more of the same.
“Umm…” Neuvillette’s voice comes out hoarse, “Thank you for assisting me, your kindness truly knows no bounds. As for your earlier question, I came off an island near here and had been fishing before the storm suddenly hit.” He hoped that this haphazard excuse would suffice… There was at least some truth mixed in.
Unexpectedly, Wriothesley yells, “An island?! Really?!” He pulls a map off of a self near them and spreads it in front of Neuvilette. He then points to a spot in a big portion of sea. “This is where we are right now, could you please point to me where your island lies?”
Neuvilette was surprised at this sudden movement and it took a moment before he regained his thoughts. At least this he had not been lying about. He points to a spot quite close to Wriothesley’s finger and quietly states, “Here.”
“Oh, thank god. Thank you so much for your help, Neuvi. I gotta go, but I’ll be back quite soon. You’re free to roam in here or on the rest of the ship. But, if you’re inexperienced with ships, I would advise against the latter.”
And just like that, he left the room.
‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊
Wriothesley returned quite soon, like he had said. Immediately booming praise onto Neuvillette.
“Thank you so much! Truly” He boasts, a large smile on his face. “You’re truly mine and this crew’s saving grace!”
Now that Neuvillette was really looking, he noticed how handsome the man was. The shirt he was wearing revealed a well-trained body marked with many scars. One such scar below his right eye brought Neuvillette’s attention to the color of his irises. Quite a cold, icy blue, but one that seemed to hold a depth of warmth.
He enjoyed this man. His demeanor, appearance, and presence. He quite enjoyed it all, but couldn’t put a finger on why. He felt almost pulled toward him.
Wriothesley coughed, scratching the back of his head, “Uh, do you need to be getting back to your island anytime soon? Someone waiting?” He hoped his intent was not too obvious.
“No, not really. I was just wandering from island to island. No one would be waiting for me there. There weren’t many people there to begin with.”
“Oh, really?” The captain’s mood seemed to improve considerably after this.
“Yes.”
“Then, I’m sorry if this is a bit forward, but would you like to stay here on my ship?” He coughs once again, pulling a fist over his mouth. Probably to cover a blush. “We’re heading to that island for shelter right now, but you’re free to stay here indefinitely.” His eyes darted around the room, eyes everywhere but on Neuvillette.
This annoyed Neuvillette some. He wanted this man to look at him. “I think that would be quite nice… Wriothesley.” The sides of his mouth seemed to curl up at this name. He had wanted to try saying it since he had learned it.
Wriothesley had just begun to look back at Neuvi when he heard his name, just in time to catch a smile spreading across Neuvi’s face as the name left his mouth. Wriothesley’s heart skipped several beats and he once again was unable to look towards this beautiful, and now smiling, man.
Neuvillette became more irritated. He felt that he held no illusions about his appearance, it was simply fact that he was quite attractive. Many captains in the past had fallen for his looks alone, although none of them held a candle to the one in front of him.
Neuvilette had never been so captivated by someone before. He itched to have the man feel the same way about him.
‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊
“Let’s go ahead and rewrap these.” Wriothesley’s voice was low with fatigue. The room was now lit by several candles, flames flickering with the rock of the ship. Warm light from the small fires around the room cast against Wriothesley’s face, catching on his eyelashes.
Outside a storm can still be heard.
“Is it alright if I do it?” He reaches towards Neuvillette’s shirt, peering at the bandages. “If you’re not comfortable with it, just say the word. But some of these might be tricky to wrap on your own.” Neuvillette nods.
Wriothesley helps Neuvillette shed the thin cream-colored shirt. Though even after it’s fallen to his waist where it’s tucked within his pants, Neuvillette is still pretty much fully covered by the bandages.
“I’ll start on your arms.”
Wriothesley slowly and methodically removes the bandage covering Neuvillette’s right arm. His touch is gentle and soothing. His hands glide over Neuvillette’s skin, almost scared of exerting pressure.
Wriothesley’s eyes are trained on Neuvillette’s injury, darting from supplies on a table he pulled next to him and back to the injury. Oftentimes, he’ll grab something from the table without looking, blindly grabbing at bottles and discerning them by touch. His brows furrowed, creating creases in between his dark arched eyebrows.
Neuvillette reaches out and presses a thumb on top of the creases, trying to smooth them out. Smiling when Wriothesley flinches and looks up at him, stunned.
Neuvi lets out a chuckle, a melodious sound that leaves Wriothesley’s heart rattling in his chest. His thumb is still placed between Wriothesley’s, now raised, eyebrows.
Wriothesley quickly attempts to regain his focus, looking back at Neuvi’s injuries. His clamoring heart ceases, and sinks. His injuries are pretty bad.
“They’re likely to leave a scar.” Wriotesley’s tone turns somber. The red that had appeared on the tip of his ears and his neck still lingered, now a slight pink.
Contrary to his expectations, Neuvillette laughs again.
“That’s fine. It doesn’t bother me much.”
The tips of Writhesley’s ears and the back of his neck once again turn red.
Wriothesley returns to his task, eager to distract himself, working at twice the pace. Despite this, his touch never roughens.
Soon enough, Wriothesley finishes rewrapping the wounds.
“Lie down.” He whispers, setting up several pillows around Neuvillette.
“This seems a bit unnecessary.”
“We don’t want you reopening anything in your sleep.”
After finishing situating the pillows around Neuvillette, Wriothesley stands up and heads toward the door. “Good night,” he mutters, his steps slow and languid.
Neuvillette sits up from his pillow fortress, eyebrows arching in confusion and a faint grunt leaving his mouth from the sudden exertion, “You’re leaving?”
‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊