Chapter Text
”I am gentler than that dry land of yours.”
-The Farmer and the Sea (Aesop’s Fables)
The small window provided a very little view of the outside world, but she avoided it regardless. At best, she would see a myriad of blues, the area where the sea and the sky met blurred together in the distance. At worst, she would find the busy harbor of Caprica, thankfully still weeks away. For now, it was pitch black, deceiving her into thinking that there was absolutely nothing out there. It stole her breath if she thought about it too long, so she tried to focus on the book in her hands. The flickering candlelight and gently rocking ship made even that difficult and she was almost relieved when someone knocked on the door.
“Ma’am?” a voice called out.
She sighed and closed her book but kept it in her lap. “Come in.”
A young man walked in, nervously wringing his hands in front of himself. He had seemed perpetually anxious since he had met her in Queenstown Harbor, the largest town on Picon, and she had yet to figure out if that was his usual temperament or if she was the cause of it.
“A ship appeared. I think they’re headed for us,” he explained, not moving further into the room than just inside the door.
She immediately leaned forward and blew her candle out. “We’ll go dark; they won’t be able to find us.”
“They’re making good time,” he insisted. “I don’t know that it’ll help.”
“Do it, Billy,” she ordered. “It won’t hurt.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He turned and pulled the door shut as he left, the sound of his footsteps retreating as he returned above deck.
Her nose wrinkled and she set her book aside, working by touch in the dark cabin while she waited for her eyes to adjust. She stood carefully and grabbed her shawl as she followed after him, her hand pressed against the wall of the ship to guide herself. As she emerged into the chilly night air, she shivered and hugged her shawl closer. The lights on board were already fading, the last few disappearing as she scanned the darkness around them. Within moments, she knew quieting the ship was as useless as Billy had mentioned. Not far off one side lurked a larger ship, its light almost blinding against the endless backdrop of star-splattered black. Her eyes immediately scanned for a flag but couldn’t make one out.
“I think they’re gonna come alongside us,” someone shouted. “What do we do?”
In a few quick steps, she reached the far edge of the ship and tightly gripped the railing as she leaned over, straining to see anything on the approaching ship. “We pray,” she replied, just loudly enough to be heard across the deck. It was too late to fire, even if they had anything to shoot, and they had no fighters.
The ship slowed as it grew closer, until she was finally able to see the dozen people prepared to board her ship. If they were pirates, they were dressed better than she would expect, but they weren’t passengers or the Navy.
She didn’t trust them regardless.
It didn’t take them long to connect the ships. Six men came over first and herded everyone toward the splintered remains of the mast before they relit the lanterns and another four men joined them. At the front stood a man in all black that nearly made him blend in with the night. A man with one eye narrowed in anger and an eyepatch towered over him, but it was clear that the first man held the authority, even without his hat.
“Where is your captain?” he demanded.
The hostages looked at each other, unwilling to look at her, but she stepped forward anyway, her head tilted defiantly.
“I’m right here.”
The man raised an eyebrow and turned toward her with a laugh. “You look like a schoolteacher.”
She smirked and her hands moved to her hips. “I was a schoolteacher.”
“And now you’re captaining a passenger ship.” He moved closer, his hand settling on the hilt of his sword. Billy started toward her until one of the invaders swung his sword at him. “A sinking ship.”
“My ship is fine,” she retorted, indignation heating her face and countering the breeze that surrounded them.
He laughed again and gestured to the broken mast and the tattered remains of the sails. “Even if she’s not sinking, she’s not going anywhere.”
“Can I help you, Captain?” she asked quickly, her tone sharp.
“Adama,” he answered, even though she hadn’t intended to ask. “Captain Adama of Galactica.” He waved his hand back toward his ship and then grabbed his sword again. She wasn’t sure if it was a threat or his default position. “And you are, Lady Captain?”
“Lady Roslin.” Her smirk wavered and she dug her fingers into her hips.
“Oh, forgive me, my lady,” he responded with a heavy amount of sarcasm. “What happened to the previous captain?”
Even his backhanded acknowledgement of her command surprised her. “Why are you interested?” She narrowed her eyes and looked him over; he carried himself like a gentleman, but his clothes revealed the wear and tear of months at sea down to the black hat he wore.
He slowly turned in a circle, taking in the ship and her people, and then looked at her again. “Will you join me in my quarters, Lady Roslin?”
She hesitated, caught off guard by the sudden invitation. “Will you hold my crew hostage the entire time?”
Instead of responding, he waved at his men and gestured them back to the ship. All of them listened except for the three that had come over with him. “I’ll keep a few men here to ensure the ship doesn’t drift while we’re connected.”
“After you, Captain Adama.” She took another step toward him and Billy was finally able to rush to her side.
“Ma’am, I don’t think this is a good idea,” he hurriedly whispered.
“Do you have a better one?” She glanced at him and tangled her hands in her shawl to stop the wind from blowing it away. When he stayed quiet, she sighed. “Keep an eye on them and I’ll be back.”
Before she could move again, someone ran up the steps to the deck, their footsteps echoing in the otherwise quiet night. She looked over to watch another one of the passengers emerge, her offensively pink gown looking even worse in the lantern light. They had only talked briefly during their voyage and she was surprised to see her above deck at all. She was even more surprised when the one-eyed man rushed toward her.
“Ellen!” He held his arms out and she hurried into them, her arms thrown around his neck. “Gods, Ellen! What are you doing here?”
Captain Adama moved and blocked her view, but offered his arm. She watched him for several moments and then accepted it after another glance at Billy. As he escorted her toward the gangway between the ships, she tried to eavesdrop on the odd conversation between the pirate and the passenger, but the wind carried it further away from her. With a soft sigh, she gave in and followed him onto his ship.
He kept a secure hold on her arm as he escorted her across the deck, down the stairs, and finally into his quarters. The sight immediately stole her breath and she couldn’t help but stare, even as he kept hold of her arm and stopped moving. Bookshelves lined every available wall, aside from the large windows that curved around the back of the ship. Even there, books were stacked along the low table and cushion-covered bench that left no room for anything or anyone. Enough lanterns and candles lit the cabin with a warm, welcoming light, but the least anticipated thing was a half-finished model ship that sat on the desk on one side of the room. She moved toward it before she realized what she was doing, and felt his arm release hers.
“Please, take a seat.” He moved a stack of books out of a chair and pulled it back for her, holding it still while she sat down. “Can I get you anything?”
“Captain, while I appreciate the generosity, I would like to know what you want with my ship.” She watched him as he took the seat beside her and pulled his hat off to set it on the table between them. Without the hat, layers of salt and peppered wavy hair fell down to his shoulders.
He leveled her with a concerned gaze that was at odds with everything else about him. “This isn’t a safe area to be stranded, aside from its remoteness from civilization. Your ship is—“
“Incapacitated,” she finished for him.
“Sinking,” he corrected with a hint of annoyance.
“So, you decided to stop out of the kindness of your heart?” She raised an eyebrow and folded her hands in her lap.
“It’s a good thing I did.” He nodded toward the direction of her ship. “That woman is the wife of my first mate.”
Her other eyebrow shot toward her hairline. “Ellen?” She scoffed and shook her head. “I barely know her, but you didn’t know she was on board when you stopped.”
“Lady Roslin, I will put this as plainly as I possibly can.” He leaned forward, his hands folded between his knees. “You and everyone on your ship will drown if you stay, unless you’re unlucky enough to cross the path of another pirate ship or starve. These are Cylon waters.”
She had heard tales, mostly exaggerated stories to scare children, of the Cylon pirates and their ruthlessness. Their desire to sink ships and murder everyone on board without taking so much as a ruby was renowned across the Twelve Islands of Kobol, but she had always thought it was nothing more than rumors and exaggeration.
“Next you’ll tell me to watch out for sea monsters,” she quipped with a light laugh. His unchanging expression made her hesitate. “The mast doesn’t seem repairable. I don’t see how you can help.”
“Galactica is sailing for Caprica; it’s a safe assumption that you are headed in that direction. We can give you passage at least that far.” He shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “For a small price.”
“I don’t know what kind of woman you take me for, Captain Adama,” she accused, her eyes worriedly searching his quarters as she abruptly stood up.
She chastised herself for being so careless and naive, thinking that anyone—let alone a pirate—would offer help without demanding something in return. At least he hadn’t thrown her over his shoulder and carried her away, but she felt even stupider for following him willingly.
He stared at her and then quickly shook his head, his worried voice rapidly drawing her out of her thoughts. “No. Gods, no. No, that wasn’t my intention at all.” His expression even looked concerned. “I only meant reimbursement for whatever supplies you will need on the journey. Your ship can’t have much.”
It took her a moment to release her tension and slowly sit back down, realizing the corner she had ended up in. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”
He grunted softly and shook his head. “What happened to the previous captain? To the ship?” His voice held genuine curiosity and his worry still lingered in his eyes.
She sighed and looked away, focusing on the flickering candlelight and the shadows it casted across the table. “We hit a storm. A few days ago, I think. Captain Zarek fell overboard, along with half the crew. We couldn’t save them.” Her brow knitted together and she dropped her gaze to her lap. “When the storm passed, the mast was a mess, most of our supplies were gone, and there was panic. No one knew what to do. With no one in charge, it was only a matter of time. So, I took over and did what I could to keep everyone together; I’m not a captain, but I somewhat know my way around a ship. My father was a merchant.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” He paused. “Your losses.”
She waved it away. “How do I know I can trust you?”
“Most women wouldn’t have done what you did.”
“Neither would most men,” she pointed out, her eyebrow briefly arching up. “Answer my question, please.”
“If I intended to hurt you, my men would’ve tied you up, gutted the ship, and sunk it within minutes. Instead, Saul found his wife and I invited you to my cabin.” He gave her a look and she sat up straighter. “I give you my word that you’ll have safe passage to Caprica, Lady Roslin. But why would a lady like you be traveling on such a small ship with a minimal entourage?”
“I don’t believe that information is necessary for my transport to Caprica, Captain Adama,” she scolded in the same tone she used on her students.
“No, it’s not,” he admitted. “I just like to know who I’m bringing on my ship and why.”
“I would recommend asking those questions before you offer passage, then.” She moved to stand up, but he was on his feet first and extended his arm again. “Thank you, Captain.”
“I’ll give you an hour to gather your things and then we’ll push off,” he said as he led her out of his quarters.
“What will happen to the ship?”
“We’ll sink her so she doesn’t draw any attention,” he answered simply.
“It seems a waste.” She frowned, her eyes immediately finding her ship when they reached the deck. A shiver ran through her body and she instinctively leaned into his warmth.
He saw her safely back to her ship and lingered long enough to gather his first mate and Ellen before they left. Billy looked her over with obvious worry and she smiled as reassuringly as she could.
“We’ll join Captain Adama’s ship,” she explained softly. “He has promised us safe passage to Caprica.”
“Can we trust him?”
She let out a short laugh. “We’re not dead yet.”
“That’s not a yes,” he replied worriedly.
“You’re welcome to stay on a sinking ship.” They all knew the ship was going down and wouldn’t get them anywhere but the depths of the sea, as much as she had denied it since the storm. “I have no desire to die like this.”
“You don’t want to go to Caprica either,” he pointed out.
“There’s still some time to figure that out. Go gather your things; we have less than an hour.” She didn’t linger, grabbing her dress to hold it up as she headed below decks for whatever she could save.
Just over an hour later, Laura stood on the deck of Galactica again. In the darkness, she had already lost sight of her ship. The candles had been brought over as the last people left the Song for Amphitrite and at any moment, she would slip below the water and settle deep on the ocean floor. There was a part of her that longed to join the wreck if it meant not reaching Caprica, but the rest of her gathered her wits and turned around. Captain Adama watched her from across the deck, but she avoided his gaze and looked at Billy.
“I think I’ll turn in for the night,” she murmured tiredly. It was more likely approaching morning, but the sun had yet to break the horizon. “Goodnight, Billy.”
“Goodnight, ma’am.”
She felt both sets of eyes on her as she retreated to the small but private room Captain Adama had provided. Her trunk sat at the foot of an uncomfortable bed, but she was grateful for it over a hammock. She took her time undressing and slid under the thin blanket once she was in her nightgown, her plaited hair coiled under her head. As she laid there, she watched the flickering candle for several long minutes, and then finally blew it out and rolled over to sleep. The sounds of Galactica were both familiar and strange, her creaks more prominent as she glided smoothly through the waves.
It was easy enough to keep to herself the first few days. She stayed in her room and only ventured on deck early in the morning or late at night. Billy checked on her throughout the day and brought light meals, but she was otherwise content in her solitude. She could see enough through the small window to tide her over while she was inside, more relieved that it didn’t require fully getting dressed.
Three days after their rescue, she woke to cloudy skies and a quiet sea. The clouds were thick but white and fluffy and although they didn’t threaten any storm or rain, they still made her uneasy. It was later than she normally woke, but she still felt the need to go up on deck. Attempting to ignore her disquiet, she dressed as quickly as she could and didn’t bother with her hair, allowing the curls to fall freely over her shoulders. With her book in hand—and hoping Billy had saved some breakfast—she cautiously ascended the stairs into the warm sunlight.
The deck was stiller than she expected and when combined with the reticent sea and nonexistent wind, her unease grew. She tightened her hold on her book and quickly scanned the deck. Billy sat along the railing with one of Adama’s crew and the first mate and his wife stood at the helm. She hadn’t seen the captain himself since coming on board and she didn’t see him now. Convinced she would be left alone enough, she made her way to the front of the ship and the step that she had determined was the most comfortable place to sit. She settled down against the old wood so she could see the ocean and the ship, unwilling to have her back to either.
She only made it a few pages before footsteps and a shadow disturbed her. Expecting Billy, her eyebrow rose when she lifted her head to find Captain Adama leaning against the railing and staring out to sea. She closed her book and kept her hand between the pages to save her spot, taking the opportunity to study the man. He seemed a few years older than her, but it was hard to tell from the profile of his tanned, weathered face. The best indication came from his greying hair that was once again tucked up under his hat. His eyes matched the sea and the sky, the swirling shades blending together as seamlessly as they did around them. It took her a moment too long to realize he was watching her.
“See something of interest, Lady Roslin?” he asked, a smirk crossing his face and igniting his eyes.
“No,” she hummed, “you’re blocking the sunlight.” Her hand waved toward the sun just visible through the clouds behind him that his larger form easily eclipsed.
“Will you glare at the clouds and the horizon when they hide the sun too?” He shifted so his arm rested against the railing again but his gaze didn’t leave her.
“I just might.” She glanced down to check her page number and then closed her book, her hands folding on top of it in her lap. “Can I do something for you, Captain?”
“I intended to ask you the same.” He grunted and turned toward the water again. “Didn’t expect you to hide away the entire trip.”
She gave a small shrug. “Thought I’d stay out of the way.”
“Have you eaten yet?” He fully turned toward her and leaned his back against the railing. Her stomach rumbled and answered for her. “Join me for breakfast?”
“Okay,” she agreed softly.
He extended his hand and gently pulled her to her feet. Her cheeks began to warm and she cleared her throat, avoiding his gaze as she tucked her book under her arm.
“There’s another storm coming, isn’t there?” She nodded to darkening clouds on the horizon.
“The winds shifted and it’s forming ahead of us. It’ll slow us down, but we’ll miss the worst of it,” he explained without letting go of her hand.
He transferred her hand to his arm and she sighed in relief, her earlier tension finally evaporating as she followed him to his quarters. The size of the breakfast waiting for them caught her off guard and she briefly raised an eyebrow, wondering if it was how much he usually ate or if he was already expecting someone. Her suspicion only grew when he pulled out the chair in front of a second plate and gestured to it. For once, she decided not to ask questions and take the offer at face value, and she sat down, her eyes following him as he rounded the table to sit across from her.
“Help yourself,” he murmured with a smile. “Might not be the freshest, but it’s still good.”
She felt his eyes on her, but her hunger won out and she picked a grape off the vine, unable to contain her hum at its sweetness when it popped in her mouth. When she raised her gaze again, he was focused on his plate.
“Do I get to ask questions now, or would you prefer to be an enigma?” he inquired.
“It depends on the question.” She shrugged and ate another grape. “But I don’t feel like discussing the weather, so go ahead.”
“We can exchange. Question for question?”
The idea intrigued her and she felt some of her guard loosen a little. “Me first.”
“Ladies first, of course,” he said at the same time.
“Are you a pirate?”
He chuckled quietly and took a long drink of something that could’ve been alcohol as easily as it was juice. “You really don’t like small talk, do you?”
“Does that count as your question?” She smirked.
“Yes.” At her piercing gaze, he elaborated, “Yes, it’s my question. No, I’m not a pirate.”
“No, I don’t like small talk. It’s useless drivel to fill the silence and I prefer a conversation with substance or quiet.”
“I’m assuming that wasn’t your question, which means it’s your turn.” He waited until he finished speaking before he took a bite of croissant.
She considered him for a moment, then reached for the filled glass near her. “What is this?”
“I thought you wanted personal questions.” He raised his own eyebrow and ripped off another piece.
“I want relevant questions.”
“It’s grape juice. Which you seem to enjoy.” He waved his hand toward the grape stem she had picked clean. “May I know your first name?”
She frowned, but trusted him and took a drink, confirming that he was telling the truth. “I don’t believe we know each other well enough for you to use my given name, Captain Adama,” she replied deliberately.
“I didn’t ask to use it, just to know it.”
She studied him once more and he appeared to hide very little. Even his eyes were an open book, almost concerned, and definitely curious. “Laura.” After another drink, she lowered the glass to the table and glanced toward the windows beside them. “If you’re not a pirate, what are you?”
He leaned back in his chair until he was balanced on the back legs with his knee caught under the table. She worried he would fall back, but not even the gentle rocking of the waves disturbed him. “A privateer to the right people, pirate to the wrong.”
“What does that mean?”
He smiled. “Wait your turn, Lady Roslin. What is your favorite color?”
She huffed and folded her hands in her lap and she slowly sat forward. “That’s not a relevant question.”
He hummed softly. “You’re the one who said you prefer relevant questions. You also don’t know what’s relevant to me. Answer it, please.”
The politeness surprised her into answering. “Red.”
“Like the setting sun and the Caprican flag. A good choice. I prefer the blue of early morning, just after dawn.”
His words made her focus on his eyes and she felt a blush creep up her neck, the lower neckline of her dress unable to hide it. “Answer mine now. Please.” She was careful not to phrase it as a question.
“I prefer to work as a privateer, but I also prefer to abide by my own moral compass, not orders. We take legal sailings when we can, but we do what we have to in order to get by,” he answered with another shrug. “You’re not in danger.”
“From you, maybe.” The sky had begun to darken and she feared how dark it was in the direction of the storm. Her earlier worry returned in full force, threatening a storm of its own.
“Not from the storm either. I’m a good captain and Galactica is a damn good ship. Pardon my language.” His chair thudded to the ground and he finished off his glass. “I’ll give you the option to answer this one. Why are you traveling to Caprica?”
The man seemed full of surprises at every turn, but genuine and more of a gentleman than she ever would have expected from a pirate or privateer. She trusted him as far as she could throw him, but she did trust him. “I’m from Caprica,” she admitted after a moment. “Moved to Picon when my father passed for a fresh start and now I’m being sent back to get married.” It took everything in her not to scowl as she said the words.
“Sent back?”
“Now look at who's questioning out of turn.”
He held his hands up in surrender. “My apologies.”
“Why do you do this?” She pointed out the window, trying her best to ignore the storm.
“I love the open ocean. I love my ship and I tend to get restless on land. Besides, there’s nothing out there for me.” He gave an almost hopeless shrug that made her frown.
“There’s always something out there,” she countered quietly.
“What’s out there for you?”
She had to think for several long moments. “My library, my students.”
“All of which you left in Queenstown. But my library, my crew, are all right here. So, I stay here too.” He paused and offered the carafe to refill her glass, but she shook her head. “I notice you don’t mention your fiancé.”
“No, otherwise I’d be more eager to return to Caprica,” she replied simply. It was as close to the truth as she trusted him with for now.
“May I ask why?”
“After you tell me why you rescued us.”
“Your ship was clearly damaged. It was an easy target. Approaching you had two outcomes: I could negotiate for whatever it held of value or I could offer assistance.” He leaned forward and they were suddenly a lot closer together. “When I saw who was on board, along with Mrs. Tigh, I offered my assistance.”
Her head tilted slightly to the side as she considered him. Alone in his quarters, no part of her felt unsafe. She had no question that she would arrive in Caprica safely, but his openness and comments made her wonder if he was trying to flirt. The line between friendship and flirting always seemed so blurred to her and she couldn’t identify what Captain Adama’s objective truly was. She figured the only way to get a better idea would be to reveal more information in the hopes that he would do the same.
“I don’t wish to marry my fiancé.” She pursed her lips and ate the last piece of fruit off her plate. “It’s a union of… convenience, I suppose. Appearance. It gives him access to my father’s money and frees me to live my life without scrutiny. I suppose it could be worse, but I would much prefer to inherit my father’s money without getting married.”
He nodded his understanding and she didn’t feel the urge to pull back, so she stayed leaning forward as he did. “I’m sorry.”
“Given the delays and my procrastination, I imagine there’s a reward for my safe return by this point.” She met his eyes with a calmness she didn’t feel. “When we make it to Caprica, you would be entitled to it.”
“And if we didn’t?”
“Didn’t what?”
“Make it to Caprica.”
“He would keep looking for me for a time, then declare me lost at sea and claim my inheritance anyway.”
He grunted and sat back. “I promised you safe passage to Caprica, but if you had the chance to go somewhere else?”
It had crossed her mind more and more often in recent weeks, but she had never allowed herself to consider it for long. It was too tempting. “He would find me and I have no means of starting over without him.”
“You could become a pirate.”
She laughed and he joined after a moment. “I think I prefer solid ground beneath my feet.” At least, she did now. The sea, ships, just weren’t as welcoming without her father or her sisters.
“I’m just saying, you have options.” His eyes narrowed slightly and then he stood up. For a moment, his gaze lingered on her and then he turned to sort through a few piles of books underneath the windows. He didn’t speak as he searched, and then turned back with a red book in his hand. “I noticed you were nearing the end of your book and thought you might need another one. Since I couldn’t decide between a few, I used your favorite color.” A small smile turned the corner of his lips up as he offered it to her.
“I can’t guarantee I’ll finish it before Caprica.” They still had weeks left on their journey, but things seemed so unpredictable that she didn’t want to make any promises. She accepted it anyway and let it rest in her lap.
He waved her concerns off. “It’s a gift. Never lend books.”
Her blush returned, hotter than before, and she had to clear her throat. “Oh. Thank you, then.”
“My pleasure. Now, I don’t mean to kick you out, but I do have some things to attend to. In case you hide away in your room again, would you join me for breakfast tomorrow?” He folded his hands in front of himself. “Consider that my last question.”
“I would like that,” she admitted. “Thank you, Captain Adama. For your generosity, your help. The book.” She held it up and gave him a small smile.
“If there’s anything you need, Lady Roslin, say the word. I’d like to see you safely to your destination.” There was a seriousness in his eyes that made her swallow.
“Yes, the reward would tide you over for some time,” she said softly.
“It’s not about the reward. Good morning.”
He didn’t shoo her out, but she knew when she was being dismissed. With her books tucked under her arm and her mind whirling with additional questions, she dabbed any leftover food and juice off her face and dropped the napkin to her plate, pausing only long enough to meet his eyes before she left his quarters.
Somehow, it became a habit. Breakfast each morning turned into breakfast and dinner, each time continuing their game of questions. She gradually grew more comfortable around him and could tell he felt the same, their meals growing less formal and more friendly as the days passed. It was something she looked forward to and it drew her out of her room more often, learning to enjoy the cool breeze on deck along with the views of both the ocean and the stars. Beneath the starlight, the endless darkness became less oppressive and more like the freedom she had been searching for for so long. Even on Zarek’s ship, she had spent most of the time in her room to avoid the captain and embrace her dwindling solitude. Galactica became one of the few sanctuaries she had found since fleeing Caprica.
She came to rely on the waves to fall asleep each night, their slow rocking making her bed more comfortable and sleep come more easily. Those same waves woke her now, their movement harsher and faster than she was used to. Her stomach dropped from a mixture of movement and dread, and with the blankets still tangled around herself, she rushed to the window. Even in the darkness, she could see and hear the waves crashing against the side of the ship, and the rain pounding on the deck above her. For a moment, she feared she was back on board the now sunken Song for Amphitrite, but the room was different, smaller, and she reassured herself that it was Galactica. The reassurance quickly twisted into more apprehension, the worry consuming her that this ship would endure the same fate.
It took effort to push through it and she frantically reached for her dressing gown, haphazardly pulling it on and tying it as she hurried from her room. The lanterns swung wildly, their flickering flames almost useless. The rain, wind, and waves had put out all sources of light up top and she couldn’t see anything while she waited for her eyes to adjust. The crew shouted back and forth, familiar voices mixed in with Adama’s men, but she couldn’t make out any of what they were saying, only their tension.
Suddenly, a hand tightly grabbed her arm and moved her against the wall, but it did nothing to protect her from the rain falling around them and drenching everything. “Lady Roslin, you need to get below. Now.” Captain Adama’s voice was quiet by the time it reached her ears, easily drowned out by the sounds of the storm around them. “It’s not safe up here.”
“I’m not going to drown like a rat in a cage down there!” she shouted back, her fingers gripping his sleeve to try to stay upright.
“No one’s drowning! Now go!” He gave her a gentle shove toward the stairs, but changed his mind and grabbed onto her arm again.
There was no time to think as he yanked her back and hugged her against his chest. She fought instinctively until they were pummeled by a wave breaking over the ship. Without his help, she would have slipped and fallen, maybe even gone overboard, but he kept her anchored to him and stopped her from going anywhere. Salt water invaded all of her senses, filling her nose and mouth, drenching her clothes, skin, and hair, and leaving her breathless and instantly cold.
“For frak’s sake,” he grumbled under his breath. His arms briefly tightened and then he guided her to the stairs. “Now will you go below deck?”
She tried to wipe the water from her face and only managed to smear her hair to her forehead and cheeks. “If we’re going down—”
“We’re not going down. I’ve seen worse storms,” he promised, his voice an odd mixture of frustration and reassurance. “Laura, please!”
Stunned by the impromptu use of her given name, she allowed him to push her into the stairwell and finally out of the storm’s warpath. Trusting him, even against her own instincts and fear of the storm, she left puddles of water and wet footprints on her way back to her room. Her clothes were saturated with salt water and by the time they dried, they would be uncomfortable and crusty. Until then, they were wet and cold, and she was miserable. She knew she should change, but her skin was wet and putting on a full outfit seemed worse than wet clothes, and she ended up huddling in front of the window with her arms tightly around herself, hands stroking up and down them for some amount of warmth.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but her clothes were still wet, her hair only dripping more water down her back, and the sky was just as dark. The ferocity of the storm had begun to calm down, but the ship still crested the waves harder and faster than she was comfortable with. A knock on her door startled her and she let out a soft yelp that was stifled by biting down on her knuckle, eyeing the door warily until there was another knock.
“I know you’re not asleep, Lady Roslin,” Captain Adama said, but his voice wasn’t knowing or cocky, only worried.
One look down at herself warned her about opening the door. Her robe and nightgown clung to her body and the thin fabric was nearly translucent now. In the darkness above deck, nothing was visible, but she worried about how much the lantern light would show. “What is it?”
“Open the door, please. I won’t keep you long, I promise.”
Biting her lip, she swallowed everything down and crossed the room to open the door. His eyes moved over her quickly, never lingering, and then focused on her face and remained there. She could tell it took effort, but she appreciated that he tried.
He cleared his throat and braced his arm against the doorway, his clothes dripping to the deck like hers did. His hat was missing and she hoped the wind hadn’t blown it overboard, but he had used the water to his advantage and slicked his hair back from his face, shorter strands already drying and falling forward to curl around his face.
“If you can do away with propriety for a bit, I have something you can borrow while your clothes dry,” he offered, his other arm extending a bundle of fabric to her. “It’s comfortable and no one here will care.”
A shiver ran over her and she accepted the clothes without question, resisting the urge to hug them to her chest so she didn’t get them wet too. “Thank you,” she murmured.
“We’re through the worst of it. If you’d like, join me in my quarters when you’re changed?” His eyes met hers and she felt like he saw right through her, straight to the fears and worries she carried close to her heart.
Realizing he was offering a distraction through the rest of the storm and knowing she wouldn’t sleep until it had passed, she gave him a small nod and shut the door as soon as he moved out of the way.
Whatever clothes she was expecting, it wasn’t a pair of loose breeches and a shirt. They wouldn’t fit anyone she had seen on his crew and would still be a little big on her, but she had to admit that they looked comfortable. She hated corsets, hated the frumpy, extravagant dresses her position required of her, and preferred the simpler things she had worn while teaching. The chance to wear loose clothing she could move in while in the middle of the ocean where no one would know wasn’t a chance she would pass up.
She had to peel her wet clothes off and did her best to lay them out on the deck so they could dry, and dried herself off with her blanket. The new clothes were slightly scratchy, but she gratefully slipped them on and tied them as tight as she could; they still billowed and she worried they would act like a sail if a gust of wind caught her, but they were dry and as comfortable as they looked. She was still cold, but now her blanket was damp and she could only hope the captain’s quarters were warmer. When she could delay no longer, she slipped from the room.
Captain Adama answered at her first knock and held the door open so she could walk inside, a thick blanket already in his arms. He draped it around her shoulders as she walked in and she immediately pulled it closer, her fingers tangling in the fabric to keep her hold on it.
“Figured you would be cold,” he said quietly, his hand waving toward the bench below the windows. It had been cleared of all the books which now sat in dispersed piles on the deck.
“I’d rather stay away from the water right now,” she replied just as softly.
“I have bad news.” He offered a small smile and pointed to the couch in the center of the room instead.
“I know,” she sighed, “we’re surrounded by it.” She gave in and sank down in the corner of the couch, her legs pulled close so the blanket could cover them too. “How did you know that wave was coming? It’s impossible to see anything up there.”
“Your eyes adjust.” He sat on the far side of the couch. “But you learn to feel the time between waves. The subtle shifting of the ship. We had just gone down and the angle that we were going back up…” He trailed off and shrugged. “I told you to stay below.”
“I was already on one sinking ship. I’d rather not see another in my lifetime, but if I have to, I’m not going to hide in my room,” she muttered sharply.
“You’re awfully stubborn.”
“It’s kept me alive.”
He grunted and nodded. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing. The storm that sank your ship, it was a rough one. We managed to avoid it, but even the perimeter was jarring.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it. Normally, I love storms. The thunder, lightning, the sound of the rain. Now, trapped on a ship… It’s terrifying,” she confessed, her eyes closing as she leaned her head back.
“The sun should be up soon. Even with the clouds, it’ll get brighter.”
His words made her reopen her eyes and she rolled her head toward her shoulder to look at him. “And until then?”
He shrugged and held his hand out to the room. “Have you ever read Dark Day?”
“No, I never got around to it.”
“Good.” He gave her the same small smile she had come to enjoy and stood up. “Get comfortable.”
It took him a few minutes to track down the book and she watched him the entire time. When he finally sat back down, she curled up in a more comfortable position facing him so her head was held by the back of the couch, all of her attention on him as he settled in and began to read. His low voice pulled her in and she found it easy to listen to him, her body slowly relaxing more and more.
A solid thud followed by a muffled swear woke her and her brow furrowed at the unfamiliar surroundings that greeted her. Bright light streamed through the windows and she squinted against it to make out more of the room, slowly sitting up until her eyes landed on Captain Adama watching her almost sheepishly.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said softly, apology heavy in his voice. “Seemed like you really needed the sleep.”
“I didn’t…” She tried to clear the sleep from her own voice and scrubbed her hands over her face. “You should have woken me. I would’ve gone back to my room.”
“Where you would have worried about the storm and stayed awake anyway,” he pointed out. “Storm passed and you slept.”
She considered it for a moment and then slowly nodded, the only acknowledgment she would give him that he was right. “Thank you,” she said before she yawned.
“Before you go running off, eat something. We’ll stop in Tauron tomorrow for fresh supplies, then another few weeks to Caprica.” He gave a small smile that highlighted the bags under his eyes and she wondered if he had stayed awake all night. “You were alone,” he added, as if he knew where her thoughts had gone. “I was up on deck most of the night.”
“I didn’t mean to kick you out of your own quarters.” Her fingers clutched the blanket closer around herself for protection and she carefully stood up.
“You didn’t. Someone has to captain this ship and that tends to be me.” He smiled again and it lingered this time. “However, I will kick you out after we eat so I can sleep.”
“I can eat on deck. I don’t mind.” She glanced at the plates on the table and bit her lip.
“I enjoy breakfast with you.”
The admission brought a smile to her lips, uncertain but visible. “You’re not what I expected, Captain Adama.”
“I could say the same of you, Lady Roslin.” He crossed the room and pulled out her chair for you. “A lady captaining a ship is about as rare as—”
“A gentleman pirate,” she finished for him, accepting his chivalry and allowing him to push her chair in after she sat down. “I am thankful both for your rescue and your company, even if I wish to stay as far away from Caprica as possible.”
“You could always disappear in Tauron.” He shrugged and sank into his seat, immediately diving into his breakfast.
“He’d find me.” She sighed and shook her head. “Even without my father’s money, he has influence, reach. No, I think my options are to marry him or death.”
He coughed and rubbed at his throat, his eyes growing wide before he covered his reaction. “I didn’t take you for a dramatic woman.”
“I’m not being dramatic,” she said simply, a note of finality ending their conversation as she began to eat too.