endless_scrolls (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
endless_scrolls) wrote2008-07-04 12:33 pm
endless_scrolls) wrote2008-07-04 12:33 pm
Entry tags:
Log: ES Under the Waterfall, Part 1
Title: Under the Waterfall, Part 1
Type: RP log
Fandom: AU!Naruto
Character(s): Tenten, Sabaku no Gaara
Pairing(s): Faint hints of GaaTen (hey, they're only children >___>;)
Warning(s): None
Disclaimer: I own only the part that I played in this.
Note: Log originally posted November 25, 2007 for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
eternalsea RP comm. In this, Tenten is 15 and Gaara is 13.
Dedicated to: Ninja Pirates. Everywhere~
The morning seemed to come slower than normal, the eerie sound of nothingness but the gulls and people of the bustling people of the Tobago ports. The town was lively indeed, but the hushing silence as the merchant captain stepped out on deck, taking a deep breath of salty air and gave his command for the day in passing.
"Gather up supplies, we leave this evening." He stated, not a fumble in his words, just a deep steady command as if nothing at all was wrong, or he had done nothing the past evening. Again, the elder man had not needed to say his order twice when the crew began their day of gather supplies and getting their fill of rum and woman while the could.
Gaara on the other hand remained below decks, the piercing light peeking through the cargo hold shone brightly against red hair, his body curled in his usual corner of hay until the coast was clear to emerge alone. His arms covered his face, his alert eyes remained open wide to the sounds surround him flinching at the slightest of movements in a close radius. Blood stained his arms dry, bruises over his legs and perhaps many at his chest and back covered by the fabric of the off white shirt he wore, protecting his body from and visual predators that would stare and point in whispers. His face, got away with merely a few scratches, a split lip cracked with dry blood causing a wince every time he had tried to sooth the pain with a moist tongue.
Up before the first light of dawn had peeked over the horizon, she had been on deck when they pulled into port, gripping the spine of a certain book in her hands. Gaara had dropped it the night before and she would have been inclined to return it sooner if not for the fear of drawing any more attention to the young lad than his father had already done several hours before. Besides, the men were protective of the boy despite their fear of the ship's captain. Such loyalties could not be broken and she would not dare challenge them. Instead, she had taken it with her when she stepped off of the ship, intent on exploring the seaport town for a little bit and perhaps find a quiet place to herself. One of the downfalls to living on a ship was the lack of privacy and, to a certain level, the feeling of being trapped in a cage with little else to go save where the wind took you.
But as she soon discovered, there was not much of interest to find in the small town, at least not to her. The men seemed satisfied enough to fill up on booze and women to their heart's content. She on the other hand ventured out to the tropical lands that surrounded the village, always keeping a good note of her surroundings so that she could make it back to the boat in time for them to sail off as scheduled. It was how her father had always governed their voyages. The crew was left to their own devices as long as they managed to return at the appointed time. And those who failed to do so, would simply be left behind to never be thought of again.
She enjoyed those times, always managing to find little secrets and hidden treasures of her own, though of a different variety than what her father's crew were seeking. Even now, while feeding her curiosity and exploring through the tropical forest on the outskirts of the village, she had happened upon a small stream littered with stepping stones and an outcrop of rocks piled up together to make a quiet and quaint waterfall effect. Beautiful. Artful. Peaceful. And it was a good place to simply sit and enjoy the day, she supposed, settling down on a good sized bolder to waste the day away with a good book to occupy the imagination.
A mournful groan passed his lips, the piercing pain shooting thought what felt like every pore of his skin. His body had curled into a ball to hug himself away, to make himself as small as he could in hopes of not being seen. The sounds from the night before would have been no doubt disturbing to the pirate princess he had took upon himself to join in her theatrical act of the Iliad, a mistake that cost the boy dearly, a mistake that would not happen again. His books, his readings were to be remained in silence for not the world to hear, for his own mind sheltering the absorbed knowledge he had learned for himself. A thirst for the written word, no matter what anyone said, no matter how many times his soul would be beaten down would not be taken away. If there was any form of love in this world for Gaara it would be this, it was a shame it did not love him back the way he had wished another human being would offer freely. An emotion of tainted hearts capable of making a single person feel as light as the fluff clouds over head, to feel weightless and sore with the birds. It was a dream, a myth even as the mark was burned into his forehead one dreadful night, or piercing screams and melting flesh.
He soundlessly slid a hand under the pile of hay messily to the side pulling yet another book from the depths of hollow straw. The battered old cover well used and nearly ripping at the corners from countless times it had been open to read over and over. In delicate black letters written as he figured a woman would, soft and graceful...like... Tenten.... But this book was far different than what they had recited for one another last night.
"Dante's Divine Comedy." His hand brushed the surface of the hard cover, a darker story one of a spiritual journey of the different levels of the after life. In a way it was an eye opener for him in ways he could not begin to comprehend, why lay beyond this life was a mystery unless you had been there to see if yourself. But to dream of a paradise, a place of peace and harmony maybe a place where his mother awaited him with open loving arms. A land of angles of myth and beauty much like the nature that this island possessed in a tropical sense.
It was minutes later when Gaara had stood on deck, the book tucked under his arm as the light sea breeze had caught his hair in a light gust taking his first steps of his free day from the plank leading to the docks of the port. It was hot, as it was every day in he Caribbean, yet it did not seem to slow the busy town down of drunk of all hours of the day laughing and joking about, occasional fights breaking out over disagreements and the whore's who had offered themselves to the boy in passing. But keeping his head down, his voice in silence as it normally way making his way to the spot he had found years ago when visiting Tobago for the first time. A waterfall of fresh water falling to a pool below in aqua tainted shades that had matched his own eye color, the pool leading out, draining into a gently flowing river filled with much wild life found between the two islands. But with great beauty does come great dangers in some of the animal life wondering about the island, one to be cautious of all when relaxing outside the towns walls.
A smile spread across her lips, and she took a moment to inhale the fresh ocean air that floated in from the shore not too far away. Such a treasure of nature to stand a witness to something so glorious and beautiful. It reminded her of the secret places of her home back in Singapore, hiding spots where she spent her days daydreaming or reading of a better world where women were the heroines fighting off both man and beasts alike for the greater good. It was from them, and from her father, that she drew her inspiration, fore there were no women in the world that she had seen who held the majesty and power like them. No story in the world who told of their bravery. The small collection she possessed were a gift from her father from his many travels in the world's oceans, believing his daughter was just as capable of playing the part of hero as any man in his crew, more so perhaps because of her kind heart and free spirit.
But the air felt a little lighter here, less thick from the tropical trees that grew in the forests of Southeast Asia, and that was cause enough to set off her pleasant mood. And when accompanied by the scene set out before her, crystal clear water surrounded by a rainbow of Caribbean color and life, there was little that could dampen her spirits. Though a small part of her mind still worried of Gaara and his condition, there was little she could do about it. Daughter of a Pirate Lord or not, she was a guest on the merchant's ship and held no right to tell him how he should run it. Perhaps, she thought, she could look in on the young boy later on when they all returned from their day trip into the village. The noises she had heard the previous night were not pleasant and told of countless injuries that would have to be looked after. And knowing Gaara, he was no doubt too proud to seek outside help, not even when his father had given the entire crew the day to spend away. So...if he would let her...she would offer to tend to them herself.
For the moment, all thoughts were on the book in her hands, The Odyssey that Gaara had dropped the night before. She was not exactly sure why she had chosen to bring it along with her when it could have been easily kept in her quarters back on the ship, to be returned to the boy at a later time. But it had been a long time since she had read the words within the pages, and their performance of The Iliad for the crew had rekindled her interests in the epics of Homer. So she slipped off her shoes and placed them a good distance away from the river so that they did not fall in and get washed away by the current. And taking slow and easy steps, she balanced herself on the stepping stones that peeked out from the surface of the water, slowly making her way towards the middle where large rock jutting out so as not to slip on their mossy surface, all the while keeping a good hold on the hem of her dress.
It was not often that she would indulge in the frills and lace of her sex, but when walking around an unknown village for the first time, it was safe conduct to at least try to blend in. And at the very least, the dress was comfortable, flowing and swaying in the breeze caused by the rushing water below. Finally, shaking her foot clean of what little trace of water that clung to her toes, she settled down on the flat surface and opened the book; the perfect place to read.
He had been crouching low in the thick of the woods, the tall palm trees casting a shadowing cover to shade the boy from the harsh unruling sun. His jaw had dropped in a heated, forced breathing pattern at the sight that lay before him in a beauty that could not match words. The way the breeze had taken the light fabric of the dress casting his visual field into a hazy dream, her hair gusting with the force of the falls behind her in a dream like state... He had read this before... eyes zeroing in on the book she held in hand. He had read similar émigrés in that very story she grips to read the words from the pages like a ghostly fantasy.
He took a slow step forward, the heavy boots had sunk lower into the white sands at his feet in a pool. Stepping forward again and again, arching his neck squinting against the bright image she was radiating taking in the wonderfully deep contrast of her long silky dark locks swaying gently against the warm breeze. The dress clinging to her body in just the right way showing a glorious curve, leaving much to a mans imagination let alone a boy. But he shook the thoughts from his mind, closing dark sockets over in a moment of realization. He was weak, she was a pirate lords daughter... She had meddled in his business more than once on this journey causing a great deal of physical pain as a reward for his prying eyes, and loose tongue around her.
His mindless walk in his dazed cloudy state until he was close enough to hear the sound of her breathing, the rustle of her dress.. The patter of her feet along the rough surface of the rock she was perched. It was like a cold snap of awakening when his dirty fingers raised to his lip, cut with a crack of dry blood from the relentless lesson his father had given for just speaking. He turn away swiftly as if to hid the bruises and broken skin from the angelic form of her... She was a perfect china doll from the east... He... Was the dog of a merchant.
The book seemed well taken care of despite the worn cover and the yellowing pages, a telltale sign of how many times Gaara had read through the pages. But then again, the way he had recited the words of Homer's The Iliadhad told of the young boy's love of the written word, of the stories that were told through ink scrawled on paper. And she could not blame him, not for loving the classics. "...'If any one unwarily draws in too close and hears the singing of the Sirens, his wife and children will never welcome him home again, for they sit in a green field and warble him to death with the sweetness of their song. There is a great heap of dead men's bones lying all around, with the flesh still rotting off them. Therefore pass these Sirens by...' Hm..."
Closing the book with a soft thud, her eyes wandered over the surface of the water in thought, not really seeing what was in front of her as her mind curled into itself. All her life she had spent sailing the seas with her father, and all her life she had wondered if the stories were true, or if they were merely a manifestation of a man's fantasies. She had never seen any signs of such creatures inhabiting the waters, only a glimpse of movement here and a shimmer of light in the water there. There were still no answers and yet still so many questions.
Blinking back into reality, back to the crystalline surface of the water sparkling in the sun overhead, she smiled at the shimmering scales of the fish swimming by past the rocks. She set the book aside, far enough from the edge so that it would not get ruined by the spray of the current, and leaned over to peer at the underwater world unfold in front of her. Tentatively, hesitantly, she dipped her feet in, submerging her legs into the stream and watching the ripples form in small waves across the surface. And without knowing it, or without realizing it, she began to hum and old song from her childhood, one who's origins she could not remember but of which she liked to believe was the one her mother used to sing to her when she was still in the crib.
His eyes glued to the book at her side, a turn in the pit of his stomach told him to reach for it, to steal it back. But to steal back from a pirate was suicide? Wasn't it? In lifting his head to her as if to determine the thoughts for himself, coming to the conclusion that he would defiantly try, and succeed judging from her size in comparison. Pirate princess or no, that was HIS book he stole fair and square.
Glancing down swift to take in the rushing stream that parted at the rock where she sat, the gentle trickle of the water pattered against the rough surface in a soft harmonize sound that blended with the tones of nature. Placing the book he held between the waist band of his pants so it would not get in the way on his hunt for the other. It was only when he had stepped out silently as he could, balancing himself on a smaller stone at her back stretching his hand out to snatch the book back, careful to avoid the water at all costs, that he had realized her voice was mixing with the music of the wildlife around them. His fingers coiled outward extending as far as they could to bush the pads of his dirt stained digits over the book cover, yet not enough to get a good hold as he was paused in his motions to listen.
Her tone had carried beautiful notes unheard by his wretched ears (as so he was called from time to time), most of such art was only written for him to imagine late at night when he read in silence. His eyes slid over in an, allowing her song to ensnare his thought like the sirens in his stories, making men weak to their will was something he was unprepared for, this was a story nothing more.... Wasn't it?
Shaking himself free if only for a brief moment from the enchanting sound allowing pale jade eyes to peek through slits of dark socket again, his pupils fluxing to clear the blurred image of this beautiful creature dipping her foot into the fresh water stream. His eyes widened as the hand reaching for the book switched course and wrapped around her thin calf pulling her limb from the water.
The hem of her dress was pulled further up along her leg to keep it from getting too wet. It would be a lot of explaining if she should return to the ship drenched like a drowned rat, though it was an amusing thought and one she had considered for a brief moment. There was no haven for tropical weather no matter who you were; the heat attacked all, clinging to their sweat-misted skin and weighing down heavy on them. Reprieve from such torment was few and far in between unless you possessed the knowledge of experience to suffer through it. The coolness of the stream placed a comfortable balance on the hot air that surrounded her, cooling the nerves in her legs and letting the feeling spread out through her entire body.
She was in the midst of considering a little swim, when she felt a small hand clasp around her leg just below the knee, stopping all notes that had been drifting from her lips. Her body turned with the quickness of the stranger's touch, following his pull on her leg as it slid soundlessly out of the water. And in a split second, she had her blade pulled from the hidden places on her body, always prepared, always ready to fight like she had been taught. Her hand paused from slicing into the intruder's throat when she recognized the jaded eyes, dark-rimmed and intense, blood crimson hair filtering in just around the edges to contrast with the alabaster paleness of his skin. "...Gaara!"
He did not flinch to he blade at his neck, even as her voice sung his name like a choir of angles. One thought passed his mind without fear, without a muse of any emotion. 'do it.' His inward plea would of course not be answered in the way she had said his name in surprise. His fingers pealed from her perfect skin as his eyes remained upon her, unmoving as his expressionless face had not wavered. Fear of death? Not likely, he welcomed it as no matter how hard his fathers lessons were, he had always healed over leaving nothing, not even a scratch but the one on his forehead. Which would give all the more reason for it to happen again and again.
He waited quietly, hoping upon hope that she would have nerve, the guts to pass the blade over his neck cutting through the main artery that would surly end his pathetic life in mere seconds. Or so what he read about, his books did not restrict to fantasy stories but also history, language, some medical and wildlife. It wasn't anything in particular, it was what was available for the steal at the time anything he could get his hands on. It made no difference what it was... It all provided the same form of escape.
After waiting long enough to give her that chance, knowing now she would not follow through, he pulled back in silence, leaving the book that was to be stole back where it was...for now. Glancing around until his eye caught something moving through the thick brush. A sneaking stride after stride, crouching low and stealthy like a predator ready to pounce it's pray. With a swift extension of his arm into the thick rustle of leaves he yanked out a creature she had no doubt recognize of different forms of the same family in her own parts. Fluffy and cute, jet black eyes wide in fear of it's captor as a little pink nose twitched to smell the rising danger approaching. Long ears twitching and alert and longer legs frantically flicked to help in his freedom.
Her breath was shallow and strained from the shock, being caught by surprise of his presence, a note of how preoccupied her thoughts were to not even take notice of him approaching or getting close enough to even touch her. Then again, her reactions were always quick, and she was never without a means of protection as made apparent by the blade poised and ready to strike at the very pulse of the young boy's neck. But there was a kind of uncertainty in the situation, the two of them seemingly suspended within a single moment in time as if they were waiting. For something to happen, for one of them to move, for the blade to continue its path with the light pressure it was placed on the young boy's neck. And Gaara remained there with nothing stopping him from moving forward against the sharp edge or shying away from the death that it could bring. He left the choice up to her. Why, she wondered. If it was his wish to die, all he would have to do was lean forward, closer to that divide between the living and the soulless spirits of the heavens...closer to her that only loomed in his shadow.
She drew back the dagger in her hand when his eyes shifted, the first to break the contact between liquid jade and earthy brown that had locked their eyes together in an intense moment of inquiries and curiosity, dancing over the line between danger and death. A rustle of leaves and a quick snatch of his arm reaching back towards the bank of the stream, into a bush to pull out an innocent creature she had only had the chance of seeing in her younger years in China. Rabbits were not often a common sight when sailing the oceans, and even when they had settled into port for the day or the night, rabbits tended to shy away from human contact. "What...?"
A swell of excitement began to merge with the rush of holding a life of his own in his hand, as she had just his. If she had not had the guts to endure the cut that would end his life in a heartbeat, he would wonder what kind of pirate was she. If he walked into it, feeling the easy slice the blade would make over flesh, would he not be considered an even greater cowered? A foreshadow of what his adult life would bring after the fall of his father. The man was sick, of that everyone knew, but when his life would pass on and leave the boy alone, what would become of it? It did not matter, for the time that stood in front of him was the moment he would live for, what he craved.
His pale eyes turned to her sly from the corners of his sockets to the rabbit trying like mad to dash for it's life, gripped tightly by the scruff of the neck. It is amazing how one could feel empowerment from such a small creature, now this is probably how his father felt when handing out his furious lessons. Taking a step forward to the pool behind her he lowered the rabbit half submerged in the shallow end of the aqua waters, waiting and watching.
It had only taken moments for the animal to squeal in pain as a silent predator attacked, ripping flesh from bone, the water dowsed in a slowing artistic pool of blood circulating around the half gone carcass of their pray. His fingers griped tight to keep the cuddly animal in place feeling the desperate struggle to escape the pain, the skin thrashing from under his hand until movements had ceased completely. A sad, painful way to pass from this life, a gruesome one to watch if having a corrupt mind like Gaara for such things. And proven when he pulled the animal out by the ears, it's small pink tongue lazily fell from the side of it's mouth and eyes hut tightly. Everything below the neck shredded away in jaded hunks, dripping blood stained perfect crystal water until the stream had taken it down river in a clean sweep.
"Piranha are flesh eating fresh water fish, rabbit... human alike. It does not matter to them." He stated bluntly.
Crunching bones echoed in her ear, only a backdrop to the rabbit's soft screams of pain and anguish. They would no doubt haunt her for the rest of their stay in this port and perhaps the rest of her journey in the Caribbean. It was one thing to hear of stories about creatures having their flesh eaten right clean to the bone, having their organs and muscles ripped from limb to limb to satisfy the hunger of another animal. But it was another matter to witness it happening right before your very eyes. The struggle it was putting up in Gaara's grasp and the panic in it's desperation was almost unbearable, and she had to stop herself from turning away for fear of looking too weak in the face of this scene unfolding before her. The thrashing of the water slowly tainted the liquid in a red hue, the carnage of what was happening spilling out as a result, feeding the blood-lust of whatever manner of monster laid underneath the surface of the water. In all her years, she had never seen such a horrific thing in her life. That could have been her.
Ribbons of crimson blood flowed down stream, her head turned and her eyes watched as it was carried away by the current. It was as if nature was making its own efforts to cleanse the world of that one moment of destruction. And thus continued the cycle of life and death, a timeless wheel of events that was both terrible and majestic. Deadly and beautiful. And not once during the whole ordeal did Gaara flinch or seem at all effected by what was happening.
He had saved her life, or at the very least kept her from having to live on as one of the outcasted cripples that were forced to struggle their way through the world. true, her father would have still loved and cared for her as any father would. But she would have been nothing but another burden for him to carry on his back, just as he carried the weight of responsibility for all who were under his trust and guidance. Shirou had done enough for her already. "....You...why?"
"All things die, it is only a matter of when and where." He stepped from the bank he was leaning over, the grave of the creature that only moments ago alive and healthy now not even a scrap of it's meat remained. He moved towards her in a single stride, rabbits head still in hand. "Weakest will die, it is a fact of nature. This was just a demonstration of natures fury against each other." Of course he was speaking from his own experiences, his father was at the top of the food chain leading Gaara to believe he was at the very bottom. The circle of life will continue and he would live on so long as his guardian the dictator over his measly existence felt it not in his right mind to kill his own son.
He took another step tossing what was left of the head back into the pool, the fish flapping about the surface fighting with one another for the last possible scarps of meat, tainting a ring of crimson in the shallow end of the pool, only to be washed away like the rest. "Nature is cruel, so is life and what is handed to us. The weak will die in time, while the strong live on, it's undeniable fact." He huffed raising his chin higher to her, satisfied with his speech, there was no way anyone in their right mind, even a pirate princess would dare to object. And even now staring back into honey eyes, a hint of what was recognizable as fear? Of what he had just done? Maybe.
"It's best if you want to bathe or at least get wet to head to the cliff under the falls." He turned to glance over his shoulder, raising a dirty finger to the water flowing over the top of the rocks, like a curtain of water. Points to where larger rocks had merged out of the side of the hill as the, rush of the fall draped over them in a perfect picture of beauty. But even such beauty had their dangers, cautious is the way to act in these parts as much of the life here hard to distinguish what was alright and what was evil.
Confused, she turned to where he pointed towards the beautiful falls that had first drew her attention to this place, so quaint and peaceful, but nothing more than one layer among several that made up the body of all nature's creations. Nothing was ever what it seemed to be, she should have known that. She was living that truth every day of her pointless life as the daughter of a powerfully respected man. And to the world according to his eyes, she was still a child that needed to be protected at all costs. That was the reason why she had been saved, she supposed. The only reason. Only that could justify Gaara's quick actions. Coming to that conclusion, she was not sure how to feel about it all. Relieved? Offended? ...Weak? And it was that answer that she scorned the most, because what good was spending all those years learning the skills if she was not trusted to use them. And yet, they had been useless.
Her eyes darted to the waterfall once more, sweeping over the easy flow of the water as it washed and crashed against the rocks to make a steady stream of sound to drown out any and all other sounds that would see fit to disturb the harmony of the forest. Nature, as does all things, existed in a balance of forces, working together in order to maintain the course of the world and the universe. And she had to believe that maybe the universe had decided to spare her life this time for a reason, that it saw it fit that Gaara would be the one to exact its will. Tch. Or perhaps she had read too many fairytales in her younger years.
With a sigh, she stood up on the rock and slowly made her way to shore, the rabbit forgotten in its watery grave. In her hand was his book, the book he had dropped the night before when the merchant captain had caught the two of them reciting pages of text from The Iliad, and she handed it over to him as she stepped by, heading toward the rushing water spilling over the cliff face. But even so, there was still one question that lingered in the dark corners of her mind. And so she paused and turned her head just enough to indicate that she was addressing him. "...Why are you here?"
He had eyed her brief inward, but notable struggling thoughts in her facial expressions. Thoughts no doubt of his words trying to decipher a rebuttal to him, as she was very much the posh pirate lords daughter and had to be right about everything, as he had seen from high ranking individuals before. But surprised she handed him the book, he holding both hands out to rest it in his palms and fingers closing over it. The book he had dropped before he was dragged below decks, his lips pressed together unintentional resembling a faint pout at the feel of the rough texture of the surface. His eyes turning with her as she moved gracefully, in a gentle flow like the river, around him. Arching his chin up at the question, and sworn a snarl at her ungrateful mention. Why was he here? To save her pretty little neck. But without fear of the monster at the top of his food chain would some how hear, and instead of finishing the job which Gaara had wished for many times, he would just cause enough pain for the boy to feel the harsh cruelty this world had offered him, his tongue began to spill in a harsh rebuttal.
"Besides saving your neck, great princess of a pirate lord." He mocked in a low tone, following behind her as she walked towards the falls. The misty spray catching in each their hair, casting a light breeze to pass through thin fabric of his dirty cloths, and her beautiful garment that hugged lovely to her form. She was lovely, but he could not help but envy who she was...and What she stood for. Her father was a lord of the eastern seas, he was a free man. To be uncaged in his life was nothing but a passing dream in this life for Gaara, he was a merchants son treated like an animal, he would remain a merchants son until the day he would pass. Whom would die first would be up to the forces God had chosen for them. "I always come here, to bathe since I don't get much of a chance." He stated rather embarrassed, but the fact that his father had baths as often as he liked but the one and only time Gaara had asked was a night he ended up blacking out and forgetting much of what happened after that. "and I read here too. I found this place when we first stopped in Tobago when I was younger. It's where I can be alone and forget."
She would ignore his constant use of the term princess in reference to her; there was nothing that could be done to change his opinions, skewed though they were. That was how he viewed her and in all truthfulness, that was what she was. The daughter of a pirate lord would honor her with certain privileges that others could only dream of, instant courtesy and feigned respect from all those who wished to be in his circle of allies or at the very least friendly acquaintances. But as with all things, the title, for lack of a better term, was a double-edged sword. She would be a prime target for her father's enemies who wished to gain some sort of leeway over his decisions. And she would have his reputation to live up to when Shirou finally passed over to the great ocean that laid beyond the noose that was to strangle them all from this life. Judgments were already being placed on her because of her gender, comparisons had already been made in contrast to her father. Though she was free to live her life as she chose, it would forever be chained to the life her father had lived. And no matter how hard she tried, she would never be able to escape from it, forever bound by blood and name.
She looked over her shoulder at the young boy, his blazing red hair even more fiery in the sunlight while he claimed this place for himself, and stating a logical reason for doing so. When traveling as much as merchants do, there was ever little chance of bathing or managing the level of dirt that clung to one's body after a day of heavy work on a ship. No doubt the swift rush of the water cascading over the edge of the rocks would do well to scrub away the grime that had collected over time. A slow blink was all that she gave him when their eyes met before she turned her back to him once more. "Then I suppose we both had the same idea. Forgive me for intruding, I'll simply come back later."
It was not a suggestion nor a negotiation, fore she was not making either. But she was growing weary of the bickering that they both had chose to perpetuate, at least for the moment, as she was almost certain he was as well. They had both come to this place in search of peace. And so she would at the very least insure that it was achieved for the both of them. There was still more exploring for her to do in any case, never having been here herself, so she resigned herself to doing that while he bathed. She left her shoes there to pick up later when she returned, and stepped out through the underbrush to see what other nugget of nature's treasures she could find. "Forget to your heart's content."
His eyes cast to the side to the slight mist collecting from the falls disappearing into a deep aqua pool. He really hadn't meant to come off in telling her to leave. She must have had her own reasons for being alone, but the young red head as never good with kind words, words in general had not come easy to him in a verbal sense even though he was very well spoken due to the reading he engulfed himself in. He pulled the second book from where it lay tucked in his pants setting it on the bank laced in white sand and huffed, letting the soft gust of hair pass his lips causing a lift of red bans from his forehead.
"No, you can stay, there are far worse creatures on this island than piranha I'm afraid." He followed taking a step on a suspended rock, his first step in climbing the great wall that would lead to his refreshing sanctuary. He paused in his movement turning to face her with his chin tilted down. Which slight hesitation in his bold action his hand extended to her, offering her aid in the climb to follow him. His head tilted in wonder, the thought that she would actually accept the offer and how he would react to it. Or would she shove him away like the rest, to leave him in his loneliness to dwell in his own thoughts until it was time for departure. "Some poisonous enough to stop a man like Boagrius to his death in seconds." referring back to a character at the beginning of the poem the night before they had recited to one another. "serpents, as colorful as they are, deadly." And as much as he would deny to admit to her face, he would not wish such a fate on someone who had stirred a sense of excitement? Or true beauty in those brown eyes of hers. He would plot secretly to keep her near, just to have more time with some one who made him feel.... Like a 13 year old instead of a boy acting beyond his years.
She was unsure of what to say, pausing in her steps just on the outside of the riverbank that connected to the grand wall of water that cascaded over the rock formation. Her head shifted to the side in thought, eyes lowering to mill over the greenery of the grass under her feet, tickling the arch and sprouting out between her toes wherever she stepped before finally turning to regard his mannerism. He looked so sure of his decision with his hand stretched out to her as he did, and for a moment she considered accepting his offer, kind and selfless as it was. She had even took a step towards him before stopping herself from reaching out to take his hand. But she had taken enough from him. First the respect of his merchant father, something she only earned by association. Then it was his words and his only sense of freedom on the ship, resulting in only punishment for wanting to know more than what his father was willing to give. She could not take this from him either. This had been his long before she had ever arrived to the Caribbean, long before she had entered into his life. Thin brows furrowed together, and she sighed in response to his offer. "I'll be careful. I'm sure you would want your privacy while you bathed, Gaara..."
And with that, she took another moment to pause again, more in realization this time as the sounds of nature surround them with its harmonic music. That had been the first time she had mentioned the young boy's name in his presence out of her own free will without cause or reason that did not wrap around the thread of concern or shock, having only mumbled it the night before when he had been so violently dragged below deck to be dealt with and moments before when he had saved her life. "...Being on a ship does not allot much time to yourself. I know how much you must value that."
And there it was, the all too familiarity of rejection spilling from her flawless lips. He crinkled his nose as he glanced down at his dirty hand.... maybe it was because she was so clean that she feared touching him in getting her pretty dress full of filth. Though with each passing word in her voice was like a razor, that had sliced even deeper than any cut or bruise, he felt his chest fill with an unimaginable pain. An odd feeling of an awkward lump in his throat begin to ache, and the water started to force it's way to the surface at the corners of his sockets.
He stared long and hard at the open palm in front of him, wondering briefly if maybe he had brushed some soot from the fine creases she would reconsider. But frustrated with this strange uncomfort in his chest he decided against it, and turned anything thoughts of her being the slightest bit interested in being his... friend?...who would want to, really. He nodded to himself in silence, dropping his eyes to his feet in shame before turning swiftly to continue his climb. A climb that would eventually take him high above into the dim, damp cavern behind the fresh water falls.
The look in his eyes, the way he stared at his empty and outstretched hand seemed almost heartbreaking to watch, because she was watching him and how he responded to her reply. It was as if her answer had...hurt him even more than all the beatings and mistreatment his father had seemed so adamant in giving him because he had found enough strength to come all the way here after the display last night. All the noises that had come from below deck, the ominous quiet that settled afterwards while the crew held her back from going to see how the young boy had faired. Could it be possible that he actually wanted her to...but that was unthinkable. The way he acted around her and the crew, especially where his father was concerned, made it seem as if Gaara welcomed the solitude, to escape the harsh reality that everyone else could bring, just as much as she did while on the deck of her father's own ship. But then there was the other side to that story, the loneliness that would no doubt settle in after long hours of solitude and rejection. That was the reason why she turned to her books so wholly and completely as she did, because they provided a constant companion she could rely on.
Was Gaara in that same situation she had placed herself in? And once more, was he reaching out to perhaps break that cycle for himself and extending that possibility to her? Holding up her hand, she rubbed her fingers together to feel the grit of dirt between the pads of her fingers, lingering traces of when she held on to the cover of his book. It had been worn with use and age, his imprint clear and readable even on the yellowing pages. And now a little bit of it had transferred onto her, like she had been touched by a magic fairy dust of his essence from simply having contact of something that belonged to him. It was symbolic to every person she had ever met in her life, every person that had made a remarkable impression to the timeline of her existence. Gaara was no different.
Lifting her head to the young boy once more, she stepped forward and reached out to him this time, taking a cautious and light hold of his elbow before he climbed out of reach so as not to startle him too much. And she waited for their eyes to meet in a moment of clarity before she spoke. "I would not wish to intrude on your time alone because I know how precious that can be to a person...but if you are really offering..." She hesitated, unsure of how to explain and simply settled on speaking from the heart where all truths resided. "...Let me see what the Caribbean has to offer...show me your world."
He was sure he felt the pit of his stomach drop to his feet at the sudden touch of her fingers gripping around him. It was like a fine threaded rope binding him in place, and her sweet tone like music. His chest lifted slightly from the harsh pain that had pierced through his walls only moments ago. Even feeling a dreamy fogginess to his mind and thoughts as his dark sockets had slid shut or a brief moment as if it clear himself before his tongue began to speak pure dribble. His chest heaved against the warm breeze of the falls, draping over the rocks as it rushed to the pool below, his closed eyes and focusing thoughts picking up the sounds around them in perfect harmony. Could this be what was spoken in 'Dante's Paradiso?' when they speak of a journey to a place of beauty and grace. A world of joy? It was then, he wondered when the harsh reality would finally come crashing down, that she was fibbing like nearly all pirates he had (anyone for that matter) known throughout he years had done to get their way.
He glanced over his shoulder, could she really handle his world? Not only the beauty that scattered his part of the world, but also the sin if it as well. It was a final reaction from the warning argument in his head of friend or foe, he turned just enough to reach with his other hand to grasp around her wrist and tugged her to the rock he was standing with the greatest of ease. Odd, how of a feather she had felt in his arms and how natural he felt leaning against him if even for a moment. He turned his mouth to the side in a pout, as the remark brewed in his head... Eyes turned upward to avoid contact, he was joyed... Perhaps a little too much, but his emotion would forever remained hidden until the proper time.
"You need to eat more, you are far too light." He nodded agreeing with himself, turning to skip to the next rock even higher than the last.
There was honesty in her eyes and a genuine want to explore the beauty of the Caribbean, because she was still too naive to lie about such things in the presence of someone she had only known for a few days. She had gotten a taste of it when she came upon this place, a rare glimpse of nature's elegance amid the harsh reality of man and she only wanted to see more. It reminded her of the places of her ancestral home, in Singapore, in China. It was there that nature and all that it had to offer had been a cherished tradition, something to be respected and cared for. But with the spread of these new worlds and strange people who would wish to only use the land for their own benefits, she had seen such things ripped apart and replaced. And for a moment when she was suspended in the air with only the grip of his hand keeping her from falling, it felt good to know that some treasures were still able to survive.
With a smirk, she ignored his comment on her weight and leaped out to the next rock nearby, shifting her bare foot against the surface to test the mossy overgrowth that coated the edges to see exactly how careful she should be. He was only one among a handful of men she had met to make that same comment though it was of little use because her frame and stature was of a biological make up and not one of her own choosing. As a woman, she would be more petite than the men who lived and worked around her. But despite all that, she was a force to be reckoned with, more than making up for her size with skill and cunning.
Holding out her arms a bit to keep her balance, she jumped forward again, following behind Gaara with every step wondering just where exactly this adventure would take her, him, them.
Link to Part 2: [HERE]
Type: RP log
Fandom: AU!Naruto
Character(s): Tenten, Sabaku no Gaara
Pairing(s): Faint hints of GaaTen (hey, they're only children >___>;)
Warning(s): None
Disclaimer: I own only the part that I played in this.
Note: Log originally posted November 25, 2007 for the
eternalsea RP comm. In this, Tenten is 15 and Gaara is 13.Dedicated to: Ninja Pirates. Everywhere~
The morning seemed to come slower than normal, the eerie sound of nothingness but the gulls and people of the bustling people of the Tobago ports. The town was lively indeed, but the hushing silence as the merchant captain stepped out on deck, taking a deep breath of salty air and gave his command for the day in passing.
"Gather up supplies, we leave this evening." He stated, not a fumble in his words, just a deep steady command as if nothing at all was wrong, or he had done nothing the past evening. Again, the elder man had not needed to say his order twice when the crew began their day of gather supplies and getting their fill of rum and woman while the could.
Gaara on the other hand remained below decks, the piercing light peeking through the cargo hold shone brightly against red hair, his body curled in his usual corner of hay until the coast was clear to emerge alone. His arms covered his face, his alert eyes remained open wide to the sounds surround him flinching at the slightest of movements in a close radius. Blood stained his arms dry, bruises over his legs and perhaps many at his chest and back covered by the fabric of the off white shirt he wore, protecting his body from and visual predators that would stare and point in whispers. His face, got away with merely a few scratches, a split lip cracked with dry blood causing a wince every time he had tried to sooth the pain with a moist tongue.
Up before the first light of dawn had peeked over the horizon, she had been on deck when they pulled into port, gripping the spine of a certain book in her hands. Gaara had dropped it the night before and she would have been inclined to return it sooner if not for the fear of drawing any more attention to the young lad than his father had already done several hours before. Besides, the men were protective of the boy despite their fear of the ship's captain. Such loyalties could not be broken and she would not dare challenge them. Instead, she had taken it with her when she stepped off of the ship, intent on exploring the seaport town for a little bit and perhaps find a quiet place to herself. One of the downfalls to living on a ship was the lack of privacy and, to a certain level, the feeling of being trapped in a cage with little else to go save where the wind took you.
But as she soon discovered, there was not much of interest to find in the small town, at least not to her. The men seemed satisfied enough to fill up on booze and women to their heart's content. She on the other hand ventured out to the tropical lands that surrounded the village, always keeping a good note of her surroundings so that she could make it back to the boat in time for them to sail off as scheduled. It was how her father had always governed their voyages. The crew was left to their own devices as long as they managed to return at the appointed time. And those who failed to do so, would simply be left behind to never be thought of again.
She enjoyed those times, always managing to find little secrets and hidden treasures of her own, though of a different variety than what her father's crew were seeking. Even now, while feeding her curiosity and exploring through the tropical forest on the outskirts of the village, she had happened upon a small stream littered with stepping stones and an outcrop of rocks piled up together to make a quiet and quaint waterfall effect. Beautiful. Artful. Peaceful. And it was a good place to simply sit and enjoy the day, she supposed, settling down on a good sized bolder to waste the day away with a good book to occupy the imagination.
A mournful groan passed his lips, the piercing pain shooting thought what felt like every pore of his skin. His body had curled into a ball to hug himself away, to make himself as small as he could in hopes of not being seen. The sounds from the night before would have been no doubt disturbing to the pirate princess he had took upon himself to join in her theatrical act of the Iliad, a mistake that cost the boy dearly, a mistake that would not happen again. His books, his readings were to be remained in silence for not the world to hear, for his own mind sheltering the absorbed knowledge he had learned for himself. A thirst for the written word, no matter what anyone said, no matter how many times his soul would be beaten down would not be taken away. If there was any form of love in this world for Gaara it would be this, it was a shame it did not love him back the way he had wished another human being would offer freely. An emotion of tainted hearts capable of making a single person feel as light as the fluff clouds over head, to feel weightless and sore with the birds. It was a dream, a myth even as the mark was burned into his forehead one dreadful night, or piercing screams and melting flesh.
He soundlessly slid a hand under the pile of hay messily to the side pulling yet another book from the depths of hollow straw. The battered old cover well used and nearly ripping at the corners from countless times it had been open to read over and over. In delicate black letters written as he figured a woman would, soft and graceful...like... Tenten.... But this book was far different than what they had recited for one another last night.
"Dante's Divine Comedy." His hand brushed the surface of the hard cover, a darker story one of a spiritual journey of the different levels of the after life. In a way it was an eye opener for him in ways he could not begin to comprehend, why lay beyond this life was a mystery unless you had been there to see if yourself. But to dream of a paradise, a place of peace and harmony maybe a place where his mother awaited him with open loving arms. A land of angles of myth and beauty much like the nature that this island possessed in a tropical sense.
It was minutes later when Gaara had stood on deck, the book tucked under his arm as the light sea breeze had caught his hair in a light gust taking his first steps of his free day from the plank leading to the docks of the port. It was hot, as it was every day in he Caribbean, yet it did not seem to slow the busy town down of drunk of all hours of the day laughing and joking about, occasional fights breaking out over disagreements and the whore's who had offered themselves to the boy in passing. But keeping his head down, his voice in silence as it normally way making his way to the spot he had found years ago when visiting Tobago for the first time. A waterfall of fresh water falling to a pool below in aqua tainted shades that had matched his own eye color, the pool leading out, draining into a gently flowing river filled with much wild life found between the two islands. But with great beauty does come great dangers in some of the animal life wondering about the island, one to be cautious of all when relaxing outside the towns walls.
A smile spread across her lips, and she took a moment to inhale the fresh ocean air that floated in from the shore not too far away. Such a treasure of nature to stand a witness to something so glorious and beautiful. It reminded her of the secret places of her home back in Singapore, hiding spots where she spent her days daydreaming or reading of a better world where women were the heroines fighting off both man and beasts alike for the greater good. It was from them, and from her father, that she drew her inspiration, fore there were no women in the world that she had seen who held the majesty and power like them. No story in the world who told of their bravery. The small collection she possessed were a gift from her father from his many travels in the world's oceans, believing his daughter was just as capable of playing the part of hero as any man in his crew, more so perhaps because of her kind heart and free spirit.
But the air felt a little lighter here, less thick from the tropical trees that grew in the forests of Southeast Asia, and that was cause enough to set off her pleasant mood. And when accompanied by the scene set out before her, crystal clear water surrounded by a rainbow of Caribbean color and life, there was little that could dampen her spirits. Though a small part of her mind still worried of Gaara and his condition, there was little she could do about it. Daughter of a Pirate Lord or not, she was a guest on the merchant's ship and held no right to tell him how he should run it. Perhaps, she thought, she could look in on the young boy later on when they all returned from their day trip into the village. The noises she had heard the previous night were not pleasant and told of countless injuries that would have to be looked after. And knowing Gaara, he was no doubt too proud to seek outside help, not even when his father had given the entire crew the day to spend away. So...if he would let her...she would offer to tend to them herself.
For the moment, all thoughts were on the book in her hands, The Odyssey that Gaara had dropped the night before. She was not exactly sure why she had chosen to bring it along with her when it could have been easily kept in her quarters back on the ship, to be returned to the boy at a later time. But it had been a long time since she had read the words within the pages, and their performance of The Iliad for the crew had rekindled her interests in the epics of Homer. So she slipped off her shoes and placed them a good distance away from the river so that they did not fall in and get washed away by the current. And taking slow and easy steps, she balanced herself on the stepping stones that peeked out from the surface of the water, slowly making her way towards the middle where large rock jutting out so as not to slip on their mossy surface, all the while keeping a good hold on the hem of her dress.
It was not often that she would indulge in the frills and lace of her sex, but when walking around an unknown village for the first time, it was safe conduct to at least try to blend in. And at the very least, the dress was comfortable, flowing and swaying in the breeze caused by the rushing water below. Finally, shaking her foot clean of what little trace of water that clung to her toes, she settled down on the flat surface and opened the book; the perfect place to read.
He had been crouching low in the thick of the woods, the tall palm trees casting a shadowing cover to shade the boy from the harsh unruling sun. His jaw had dropped in a heated, forced breathing pattern at the sight that lay before him in a beauty that could not match words. The way the breeze had taken the light fabric of the dress casting his visual field into a hazy dream, her hair gusting with the force of the falls behind her in a dream like state... He had read this before... eyes zeroing in on the book she held in hand. He had read similar émigrés in that very story she grips to read the words from the pages like a ghostly fantasy.
He took a slow step forward, the heavy boots had sunk lower into the white sands at his feet in a pool. Stepping forward again and again, arching his neck squinting against the bright image she was radiating taking in the wonderfully deep contrast of her long silky dark locks swaying gently against the warm breeze. The dress clinging to her body in just the right way showing a glorious curve, leaving much to a mans imagination let alone a boy. But he shook the thoughts from his mind, closing dark sockets over in a moment of realization. He was weak, she was a pirate lords daughter... She had meddled in his business more than once on this journey causing a great deal of physical pain as a reward for his prying eyes, and loose tongue around her.
His mindless walk in his dazed cloudy state until he was close enough to hear the sound of her breathing, the rustle of her dress.. The patter of her feet along the rough surface of the rock she was perched. It was like a cold snap of awakening when his dirty fingers raised to his lip, cut with a crack of dry blood from the relentless lesson his father had given for just speaking. He turn away swiftly as if to hid the bruises and broken skin from the angelic form of her... She was a perfect china doll from the east... He... Was the dog of a merchant.
The book seemed well taken care of despite the worn cover and the yellowing pages, a telltale sign of how many times Gaara had read through the pages. But then again, the way he had recited the words of Homer's The Iliadhad told of the young boy's love of the written word, of the stories that were told through ink scrawled on paper. And she could not blame him, not for loving the classics. "...'If any one unwarily draws in too close and hears the singing of the Sirens, his wife and children will never welcome him home again, for they sit in a green field and warble him to death with the sweetness of their song. There is a great heap of dead men's bones lying all around, with the flesh still rotting off them. Therefore pass these Sirens by...' Hm..."
Closing the book with a soft thud, her eyes wandered over the surface of the water in thought, not really seeing what was in front of her as her mind curled into itself. All her life she had spent sailing the seas with her father, and all her life she had wondered if the stories were true, or if they were merely a manifestation of a man's fantasies. She had never seen any signs of such creatures inhabiting the waters, only a glimpse of movement here and a shimmer of light in the water there. There were still no answers and yet still so many questions.
Blinking back into reality, back to the crystalline surface of the water sparkling in the sun overhead, she smiled at the shimmering scales of the fish swimming by past the rocks. She set the book aside, far enough from the edge so that it would not get ruined by the spray of the current, and leaned over to peer at the underwater world unfold in front of her. Tentatively, hesitantly, she dipped her feet in, submerging her legs into the stream and watching the ripples form in small waves across the surface. And without knowing it, or without realizing it, she began to hum and old song from her childhood, one who's origins she could not remember but of which she liked to believe was the one her mother used to sing to her when she was still in the crib.
His eyes glued to the book at her side, a turn in the pit of his stomach told him to reach for it, to steal it back. But to steal back from a pirate was suicide? Wasn't it? In lifting his head to her as if to determine the thoughts for himself, coming to the conclusion that he would defiantly try, and succeed judging from her size in comparison. Pirate princess or no, that was HIS book he stole fair and square.
Glancing down swift to take in the rushing stream that parted at the rock where she sat, the gentle trickle of the water pattered against the rough surface in a soft harmonize sound that blended with the tones of nature. Placing the book he held between the waist band of his pants so it would not get in the way on his hunt for the other. It was only when he had stepped out silently as he could, balancing himself on a smaller stone at her back stretching his hand out to snatch the book back, careful to avoid the water at all costs, that he had realized her voice was mixing with the music of the wildlife around them. His fingers coiled outward extending as far as they could to bush the pads of his dirt stained digits over the book cover, yet not enough to get a good hold as he was paused in his motions to listen.
Her tone had carried beautiful notes unheard by his wretched ears (as so he was called from time to time), most of such art was only written for him to imagine late at night when he read in silence. His eyes slid over in an, allowing her song to ensnare his thought like the sirens in his stories, making men weak to their will was something he was unprepared for, this was a story nothing more.... Wasn't it?
Shaking himself free if only for a brief moment from the enchanting sound allowing pale jade eyes to peek through slits of dark socket again, his pupils fluxing to clear the blurred image of this beautiful creature dipping her foot into the fresh water stream. His eyes widened as the hand reaching for the book switched course and wrapped around her thin calf pulling her limb from the water.
The hem of her dress was pulled further up along her leg to keep it from getting too wet. It would be a lot of explaining if she should return to the ship drenched like a drowned rat, though it was an amusing thought and one she had considered for a brief moment. There was no haven for tropical weather no matter who you were; the heat attacked all, clinging to their sweat-misted skin and weighing down heavy on them. Reprieve from such torment was few and far in between unless you possessed the knowledge of experience to suffer through it. The coolness of the stream placed a comfortable balance on the hot air that surrounded her, cooling the nerves in her legs and letting the feeling spread out through her entire body.
She was in the midst of considering a little swim, when she felt a small hand clasp around her leg just below the knee, stopping all notes that had been drifting from her lips. Her body turned with the quickness of the stranger's touch, following his pull on her leg as it slid soundlessly out of the water. And in a split second, she had her blade pulled from the hidden places on her body, always prepared, always ready to fight like she had been taught. Her hand paused from slicing into the intruder's throat when she recognized the jaded eyes, dark-rimmed and intense, blood crimson hair filtering in just around the edges to contrast with the alabaster paleness of his skin. "...Gaara!"
He did not flinch to he blade at his neck, even as her voice sung his name like a choir of angles. One thought passed his mind without fear, without a muse of any emotion. 'do it.' His inward plea would of course not be answered in the way she had said his name in surprise. His fingers pealed from her perfect skin as his eyes remained upon her, unmoving as his expressionless face had not wavered. Fear of death? Not likely, he welcomed it as no matter how hard his fathers lessons were, he had always healed over leaving nothing, not even a scratch but the one on his forehead. Which would give all the more reason for it to happen again and again.
He waited quietly, hoping upon hope that she would have nerve, the guts to pass the blade over his neck cutting through the main artery that would surly end his pathetic life in mere seconds. Or so what he read about, his books did not restrict to fantasy stories but also history, language, some medical and wildlife. It wasn't anything in particular, it was what was available for the steal at the time anything he could get his hands on. It made no difference what it was... It all provided the same form of escape.
After waiting long enough to give her that chance, knowing now she would not follow through, he pulled back in silence, leaving the book that was to be stole back where it was...for now. Glancing around until his eye caught something moving through the thick brush. A sneaking stride after stride, crouching low and stealthy like a predator ready to pounce it's pray. With a swift extension of his arm into the thick rustle of leaves he yanked out a creature she had no doubt recognize of different forms of the same family in her own parts. Fluffy and cute, jet black eyes wide in fear of it's captor as a little pink nose twitched to smell the rising danger approaching. Long ears twitching and alert and longer legs frantically flicked to help in his freedom.
Her breath was shallow and strained from the shock, being caught by surprise of his presence, a note of how preoccupied her thoughts were to not even take notice of him approaching or getting close enough to even touch her. Then again, her reactions were always quick, and she was never without a means of protection as made apparent by the blade poised and ready to strike at the very pulse of the young boy's neck. But there was a kind of uncertainty in the situation, the two of them seemingly suspended within a single moment in time as if they were waiting. For something to happen, for one of them to move, for the blade to continue its path with the light pressure it was placed on the young boy's neck. And Gaara remained there with nothing stopping him from moving forward against the sharp edge or shying away from the death that it could bring. He left the choice up to her. Why, she wondered. If it was his wish to die, all he would have to do was lean forward, closer to that divide between the living and the soulless spirits of the heavens...closer to her that only loomed in his shadow.
She drew back the dagger in her hand when his eyes shifted, the first to break the contact between liquid jade and earthy brown that had locked their eyes together in an intense moment of inquiries and curiosity, dancing over the line between danger and death. A rustle of leaves and a quick snatch of his arm reaching back towards the bank of the stream, into a bush to pull out an innocent creature she had only had the chance of seeing in her younger years in China. Rabbits were not often a common sight when sailing the oceans, and even when they had settled into port for the day or the night, rabbits tended to shy away from human contact. "What...?"
A swell of excitement began to merge with the rush of holding a life of his own in his hand, as she had just his. If she had not had the guts to endure the cut that would end his life in a heartbeat, he would wonder what kind of pirate was she. If he walked into it, feeling the easy slice the blade would make over flesh, would he not be considered an even greater cowered? A foreshadow of what his adult life would bring after the fall of his father. The man was sick, of that everyone knew, but when his life would pass on and leave the boy alone, what would become of it? It did not matter, for the time that stood in front of him was the moment he would live for, what he craved.
His pale eyes turned to her sly from the corners of his sockets to the rabbit trying like mad to dash for it's life, gripped tightly by the scruff of the neck. It is amazing how one could feel empowerment from such a small creature, now this is probably how his father felt when handing out his furious lessons. Taking a step forward to the pool behind her he lowered the rabbit half submerged in the shallow end of the aqua waters, waiting and watching.
It had only taken moments for the animal to squeal in pain as a silent predator attacked, ripping flesh from bone, the water dowsed in a slowing artistic pool of blood circulating around the half gone carcass of their pray. His fingers griped tight to keep the cuddly animal in place feeling the desperate struggle to escape the pain, the skin thrashing from under his hand until movements had ceased completely. A sad, painful way to pass from this life, a gruesome one to watch if having a corrupt mind like Gaara for such things. And proven when he pulled the animal out by the ears, it's small pink tongue lazily fell from the side of it's mouth and eyes hut tightly. Everything below the neck shredded away in jaded hunks, dripping blood stained perfect crystal water until the stream had taken it down river in a clean sweep.
"Piranha are flesh eating fresh water fish, rabbit... human alike. It does not matter to them." He stated bluntly.
Crunching bones echoed in her ear, only a backdrop to the rabbit's soft screams of pain and anguish. They would no doubt haunt her for the rest of their stay in this port and perhaps the rest of her journey in the Caribbean. It was one thing to hear of stories about creatures having their flesh eaten right clean to the bone, having their organs and muscles ripped from limb to limb to satisfy the hunger of another animal. But it was another matter to witness it happening right before your very eyes. The struggle it was putting up in Gaara's grasp and the panic in it's desperation was almost unbearable, and she had to stop herself from turning away for fear of looking too weak in the face of this scene unfolding before her. The thrashing of the water slowly tainted the liquid in a red hue, the carnage of what was happening spilling out as a result, feeding the blood-lust of whatever manner of monster laid underneath the surface of the water. In all her years, she had never seen such a horrific thing in her life. That could have been her.
Ribbons of crimson blood flowed down stream, her head turned and her eyes watched as it was carried away by the current. It was as if nature was making its own efforts to cleanse the world of that one moment of destruction. And thus continued the cycle of life and death, a timeless wheel of events that was both terrible and majestic. Deadly and beautiful. And not once during the whole ordeal did Gaara flinch or seem at all effected by what was happening.
He had saved her life, or at the very least kept her from having to live on as one of the outcasted cripples that were forced to struggle their way through the world. true, her father would have still loved and cared for her as any father would. But she would have been nothing but another burden for him to carry on his back, just as he carried the weight of responsibility for all who were under his trust and guidance. Shirou had done enough for her already. "....You...why?"
"All things die, it is only a matter of when and where." He stepped from the bank he was leaning over, the grave of the creature that only moments ago alive and healthy now not even a scrap of it's meat remained. He moved towards her in a single stride, rabbits head still in hand. "Weakest will die, it is a fact of nature. This was just a demonstration of natures fury against each other." Of course he was speaking from his own experiences, his father was at the top of the food chain leading Gaara to believe he was at the very bottom. The circle of life will continue and he would live on so long as his guardian the dictator over his measly existence felt it not in his right mind to kill his own son.
He took another step tossing what was left of the head back into the pool, the fish flapping about the surface fighting with one another for the last possible scarps of meat, tainting a ring of crimson in the shallow end of the pool, only to be washed away like the rest. "Nature is cruel, so is life and what is handed to us. The weak will die in time, while the strong live on, it's undeniable fact." He huffed raising his chin higher to her, satisfied with his speech, there was no way anyone in their right mind, even a pirate princess would dare to object. And even now staring back into honey eyes, a hint of what was recognizable as fear? Of what he had just done? Maybe.
"It's best if you want to bathe or at least get wet to head to the cliff under the falls." He turned to glance over his shoulder, raising a dirty finger to the water flowing over the top of the rocks, like a curtain of water. Points to where larger rocks had merged out of the side of the hill as the, rush of the fall draped over them in a perfect picture of beauty. But even such beauty had their dangers, cautious is the way to act in these parts as much of the life here hard to distinguish what was alright and what was evil.
Confused, she turned to where he pointed towards the beautiful falls that had first drew her attention to this place, so quaint and peaceful, but nothing more than one layer among several that made up the body of all nature's creations. Nothing was ever what it seemed to be, she should have known that. She was living that truth every day of her pointless life as the daughter of a powerfully respected man. And to the world according to his eyes, she was still a child that needed to be protected at all costs. That was the reason why she had been saved, she supposed. The only reason. Only that could justify Gaara's quick actions. Coming to that conclusion, she was not sure how to feel about it all. Relieved? Offended? ...Weak? And it was that answer that she scorned the most, because what good was spending all those years learning the skills if she was not trusted to use them. And yet, they had been useless.
Her eyes darted to the waterfall once more, sweeping over the easy flow of the water as it washed and crashed against the rocks to make a steady stream of sound to drown out any and all other sounds that would see fit to disturb the harmony of the forest. Nature, as does all things, existed in a balance of forces, working together in order to maintain the course of the world and the universe. And she had to believe that maybe the universe had decided to spare her life this time for a reason, that it saw it fit that Gaara would be the one to exact its will. Tch. Or perhaps she had read too many fairytales in her younger years.
With a sigh, she stood up on the rock and slowly made her way to shore, the rabbit forgotten in its watery grave. In her hand was his book, the book he had dropped the night before when the merchant captain had caught the two of them reciting pages of text from The Iliad, and she handed it over to him as she stepped by, heading toward the rushing water spilling over the cliff face. But even so, there was still one question that lingered in the dark corners of her mind. And so she paused and turned her head just enough to indicate that she was addressing him. "...Why are you here?"
He had eyed her brief inward, but notable struggling thoughts in her facial expressions. Thoughts no doubt of his words trying to decipher a rebuttal to him, as she was very much the posh pirate lords daughter and had to be right about everything, as he had seen from high ranking individuals before. But surprised she handed him the book, he holding both hands out to rest it in his palms and fingers closing over it. The book he had dropped before he was dragged below decks, his lips pressed together unintentional resembling a faint pout at the feel of the rough texture of the surface. His eyes turning with her as she moved gracefully, in a gentle flow like the river, around him. Arching his chin up at the question, and sworn a snarl at her ungrateful mention. Why was he here? To save her pretty little neck. But without fear of the monster at the top of his food chain would some how hear, and instead of finishing the job which Gaara had wished for many times, he would just cause enough pain for the boy to feel the harsh cruelty this world had offered him, his tongue began to spill in a harsh rebuttal.
"Besides saving your neck, great princess of a pirate lord." He mocked in a low tone, following behind her as she walked towards the falls. The misty spray catching in each their hair, casting a light breeze to pass through thin fabric of his dirty cloths, and her beautiful garment that hugged lovely to her form. She was lovely, but he could not help but envy who she was...and What she stood for. Her father was a lord of the eastern seas, he was a free man. To be uncaged in his life was nothing but a passing dream in this life for Gaara, he was a merchants son treated like an animal, he would remain a merchants son until the day he would pass. Whom would die first would be up to the forces God had chosen for them. "I always come here, to bathe since I don't get much of a chance." He stated rather embarrassed, but the fact that his father had baths as often as he liked but the one and only time Gaara had asked was a night he ended up blacking out and forgetting much of what happened after that. "and I read here too. I found this place when we first stopped in Tobago when I was younger. It's where I can be alone and forget."
She would ignore his constant use of the term princess in reference to her; there was nothing that could be done to change his opinions, skewed though they were. That was how he viewed her and in all truthfulness, that was what she was. The daughter of a pirate lord would honor her with certain privileges that others could only dream of, instant courtesy and feigned respect from all those who wished to be in his circle of allies or at the very least friendly acquaintances. But as with all things, the title, for lack of a better term, was a double-edged sword. She would be a prime target for her father's enemies who wished to gain some sort of leeway over his decisions. And she would have his reputation to live up to when Shirou finally passed over to the great ocean that laid beyond the noose that was to strangle them all from this life. Judgments were already being placed on her because of her gender, comparisons had already been made in contrast to her father. Though she was free to live her life as she chose, it would forever be chained to the life her father had lived. And no matter how hard she tried, she would never be able to escape from it, forever bound by blood and name.
She looked over her shoulder at the young boy, his blazing red hair even more fiery in the sunlight while he claimed this place for himself, and stating a logical reason for doing so. When traveling as much as merchants do, there was ever little chance of bathing or managing the level of dirt that clung to one's body after a day of heavy work on a ship. No doubt the swift rush of the water cascading over the edge of the rocks would do well to scrub away the grime that had collected over time. A slow blink was all that she gave him when their eyes met before she turned her back to him once more. "Then I suppose we both had the same idea. Forgive me for intruding, I'll simply come back later."
It was not a suggestion nor a negotiation, fore she was not making either. But she was growing weary of the bickering that they both had chose to perpetuate, at least for the moment, as she was almost certain he was as well. They had both come to this place in search of peace. And so she would at the very least insure that it was achieved for the both of them. There was still more exploring for her to do in any case, never having been here herself, so she resigned herself to doing that while he bathed. She left her shoes there to pick up later when she returned, and stepped out through the underbrush to see what other nugget of nature's treasures she could find. "Forget to your heart's content."
His eyes cast to the side to the slight mist collecting from the falls disappearing into a deep aqua pool. He really hadn't meant to come off in telling her to leave. She must have had her own reasons for being alone, but the young red head as never good with kind words, words in general had not come easy to him in a verbal sense even though he was very well spoken due to the reading he engulfed himself in. He pulled the second book from where it lay tucked in his pants setting it on the bank laced in white sand and huffed, letting the soft gust of hair pass his lips causing a lift of red bans from his forehead.
"No, you can stay, there are far worse creatures on this island than piranha I'm afraid." He followed taking a step on a suspended rock, his first step in climbing the great wall that would lead to his refreshing sanctuary. He paused in his movement turning to face her with his chin tilted down. Which slight hesitation in his bold action his hand extended to her, offering her aid in the climb to follow him. His head tilted in wonder, the thought that she would actually accept the offer and how he would react to it. Or would she shove him away like the rest, to leave him in his loneliness to dwell in his own thoughts until it was time for departure. "Some poisonous enough to stop a man like Boagrius to his death in seconds." referring back to a character at the beginning of the poem the night before they had recited to one another. "serpents, as colorful as they are, deadly." And as much as he would deny to admit to her face, he would not wish such a fate on someone who had stirred a sense of excitement? Or true beauty in those brown eyes of hers. He would plot secretly to keep her near, just to have more time with some one who made him feel.... Like a 13 year old instead of a boy acting beyond his years.
She was unsure of what to say, pausing in her steps just on the outside of the riverbank that connected to the grand wall of water that cascaded over the rock formation. Her head shifted to the side in thought, eyes lowering to mill over the greenery of the grass under her feet, tickling the arch and sprouting out between her toes wherever she stepped before finally turning to regard his mannerism. He looked so sure of his decision with his hand stretched out to her as he did, and for a moment she considered accepting his offer, kind and selfless as it was. She had even took a step towards him before stopping herself from reaching out to take his hand. But she had taken enough from him. First the respect of his merchant father, something she only earned by association. Then it was his words and his only sense of freedom on the ship, resulting in only punishment for wanting to know more than what his father was willing to give. She could not take this from him either. This had been his long before she had ever arrived to the Caribbean, long before she had entered into his life. Thin brows furrowed together, and she sighed in response to his offer. "I'll be careful. I'm sure you would want your privacy while you bathed, Gaara..."
And with that, she took another moment to pause again, more in realization this time as the sounds of nature surround them with its harmonic music. That had been the first time she had mentioned the young boy's name in his presence out of her own free will without cause or reason that did not wrap around the thread of concern or shock, having only mumbled it the night before when he had been so violently dragged below deck to be dealt with and moments before when he had saved her life. "...Being on a ship does not allot much time to yourself. I know how much you must value that."
And there it was, the all too familiarity of rejection spilling from her flawless lips. He crinkled his nose as he glanced down at his dirty hand.... maybe it was because she was so clean that she feared touching him in getting her pretty dress full of filth. Though with each passing word in her voice was like a razor, that had sliced even deeper than any cut or bruise, he felt his chest fill with an unimaginable pain. An odd feeling of an awkward lump in his throat begin to ache, and the water started to force it's way to the surface at the corners of his sockets.
He stared long and hard at the open palm in front of him, wondering briefly if maybe he had brushed some soot from the fine creases she would reconsider. But frustrated with this strange uncomfort in his chest he decided against it, and turned anything thoughts of her being the slightest bit interested in being his... friend?...who would want to, really. He nodded to himself in silence, dropping his eyes to his feet in shame before turning swiftly to continue his climb. A climb that would eventually take him high above into the dim, damp cavern behind the fresh water falls.
The look in his eyes, the way he stared at his empty and outstretched hand seemed almost heartbreaking to watch, because she was watching him and how he responded to her reply. It was as if her answer had...hurt him even more than all the beatings and mistreatment his father had seemed so adamant in giving him because he had found enough strength to come all the way here after the display last night. All the noises that had come from below deck, the ominous quiet that settled afterwards while the crew held her back from going to see how the young boy had faired. Could it be possible that he actually wanted her to...but that was unthinkable. The way he acted around her and the crew, especially where his father was concerned, made it seem as if Gaara welcomed the solitude, to escape the harsh reality that everyone else could bring, just as much as she did while on the deck of her father's own ship. But then there was the other side to that story, the loneliness that would no doubt settle in after long hours of solitude and rejection. That was the reason why she turned to her books so wholly and completely as she did, because they provided a constant companion she could rely on.
Was Gaara in that same situation she had placed herself in? And once more, was he reaching out to perhaps break that cycle for himself and extending that possibility to her? Holding up her hand, she rubbed her fingers together to feel the grit of dirt between the pads of her fingers, lingering traces of when she held on to the cover of his book. It had been worn with use and age, his imprint clear and readable even on the yellowing pages. And now a little bit of it had transferred onto her, like she had been touched by a magic fairy dust of his essence from simply having contact of something that belonged to him. It was symbolic to every person she had ever met in her life, every person that had made a remarkable impression to the timeline of her existence. Gaara was no different.
Lifting her head to the young boy once more, she stepped forward and reached out to him this time, taking a cautious and light hold of his elbow before he climbed out of reach so as not to startle him too much. And she waited for their eyes to meet in a moment of clarity before she spoke. "I would not wish to intrude on your time alone because I know how precious that can be to a person...but if you are really offering..." She hesitated, unsure of how to explain and simply settled on speaking from the heart where all truths resided. "...Let me see what the Caribbean has to offer...show me your world."
He was sure he felt the pit of his stomach drop to his feet at the sudden touch of her fingers gripping around him. It was like a fine threaded rope binding him in place, and her sweet tone like music. His chest lifted slightly from the harsh pain that had pierced through his walls only moments ago. Even feeling a dreamy fogginess to his mind and thoughts as his dark sockets had slid shut or a brief moment as if it clear himself before his tongue began to speak pure dribble. His chest heaved against the warm breeze of the falls, draping over the rocks as it rushed to the pool below, his closed eyes and focusing thoughts picking up the sounds around them in perfect harmony. Could this be what was spoken in 'Dante's Paradiso?' when they speak of a journey to a place of beauty and grace. A world of joy? It was then, he wondered when the harsh reality would finally come crashing down, that she was fibbing like nearly all pirates he had (anyone for that matter) known throughout he years had done to get their way.
He glanced over his shoulder, could she really handle his world? Not only the beauty that scattered his part of the world, but also the sin if it as well. It was a final reaction from the warning argument in his head of friend or foe, he turned just enough to reach with his other hand to grasp around her wrist and tugged her to the rock he was standing with the greatest of ease. Odd, how of a feather she had felt in his arms and how natural he felt leaning against him if even for a moment. He turned his mouth to the side in a pout, as the remark brewed in his head... Eyes turned upward to avoid contact, he was joyed... Perhaps a little too much, but his emotion would forever remained hidden until the proper time.
"You need to eat more, you are far too light." He nodded agreeing with himself, turning to skip to the next rock even higher than the last.
There was honesty in her eyes and a genuine want to explore the beauty of the Caribbean, because she was still too naive to lie about such things in the presence of someone she had only known for a few days. She had gotten a taste of it when she came upon this place, a rare glimpse of nature's elegance amid the harsh reality of man and she only wanted to see more. It reminded her of the places of her ancestral home, in Singapore, in China. It was there that nature and all that it had to offer had been a cherished tradition, something to be respected and cared for. But with the spread of these new worlds and strange people who would wish to only use the land for their own benefits, she had seen such things ripped apart and replaced. And for a moment when she was suspended in the air with only the grip of his hand keeping her from falling, it felt good to know that some treasures were still able to survive.
With a smirk, she ignored his comment on her weight and leaped out to the next rock nearby, shifting her bare foot against the surface to test the mossy overgrowth that coated the edges to see exactly how careful she should be. He was only one among a handful of men she had met to make that same comment though it was of little use because her frame and stature was of a biological make up and not one of her own choosing. As a woman, she would be more petite than the men who lived and worked around her. But despite all that, she was a force to be reckoned with, more than making up for her size with skill and cunning.
Holding out her arms a bit to keep her balance, she jumped forward again, following behind Gaara with every step wondering just where exactly this adventure would take her, him, them.
Link to Part 2: [HERE]