endless_scrolls (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
endless_scrolls) wrote2008-07-04 12:49 pm
endless_scrolls) wrote2008-07-04 12:49 pm
Entry tags:
Log: ES Consequences of Friendship
Title: Consequences of Friendship
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~
Gaara had been up on deck since the first break of dawn with the rest of the crew, he had resumed his quiet-head-down demeanor from the night before as now he was about to be graced in the company of the man himself. of course it was like a ritual when the captain had taken his first steps of the early morning to throw around his authority as his position in tells. The man was full of himself beyond belief, perhaps because this ship and the small Island was the only place in this world here he could dominate over every thing and everyone in his way. But Gaara just went about his daily routine as much of the other sailors stopping in a bow of respect to the elder man in passing, although Gaara had discovered in his best interest to avoid such things as the can only end up with a swift clip to his head and deprived of food for a few days if tilting his had the wrong way.
"BOY.... " The Yondaime bark from where he stood with his arms placed sternly over his chest. eyeing the boy in line with the other sailors tugging in time against the pulley to raise one of many sails. With his head down for much of the work, avoid unnecessary confrontation he had not noticed of the shackle had come loose high above to one of the main sails. "Are you just going to stand there looking like an idiot get up there!"
As the order was passed, Gaara immediately released the line without question, his soot covered bare feet tapped along the floor boards of the deck until reaching the mesh that would allow him to climb high to the mass of sails and lines. lifting his head as he grasped his fingers around the thick rope of the mesh his feet to follow beginning his climb that would take him to the desired destination.
With a thick book in hand, one Le Morte D'arthur that told of the life and death of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table in the distant land of Camelot, she ascended the stairs that brought her up on deck where the men were busy moving about their business in maintaining their course towards the small island of Trinidad. Whether her father would be back from his hunt for treasure with this unknown pirate boy who seemed just at the beginning of his career was yet to be said. Some of his more elaborate searches for treasure or items of value were known to take weeks, even months if need be. All the more worth it to find. But the merchant ship and her crew could only stay away from her home port for so long before having to return in order to make new business or fill out new orders so that they could make an honest profit alongside any other unnamed clients the captain might find it beneficial to associate with.
She emerged from the dark hull of the ship just in time to watch Gaara climb up the mass towards the top of the main sail where the problem seemed to reside. Quick footed and swift in his movements, he was every bit as skilled as any other man in the crew, perhaps even more so because of his size and long years forcibly working for his father. He was a great value to this ship and it's functions. Along with the loyalty he held with the men of his father's crew, Gaara could very easily command this ship himself. Sympathies and little hope for mercy to the merchant captain the day Gaara would finally realize that small truth among the mountain of lies he had been fed all his life.
Painted up like nothing more than a living doll for all to see, she stepped forwards onto the deck and quickly made her way through the crowd of men going about their daily routine, the soft heel of her shoes clip-clapping against the wood with every step. They were nearing the more populated and well traveled portion of the shipping lanes and she felt it less suspicious that she dress the part of maiden, if she really was to follow the captain around on his rounds. She was much better at disappearing into the background of obscurity after all, and what better way to do so than to play up the role that everyone seemed to ignore for the most part.
He paused the moment he had scurried to the very top where the problem had came about, the corner flapping to the wind violently as his short arm found it was not long enough to grasp his fingers around what needed. Stretching his body just a little farther he arced his neck slightly catching a rather colorful glimpse of the young lady from the night before, decked out in fancy cloths fitting for a spoiled pirate princess she was. Even as much as h growled under his breath at the sight of her trailing along behind his father his pale eyes could not tear away from the mystery that was who she was as a woman, a person to which he found an entertaining, yet irritable bod with after years of having no one his own age. His lips pressed together in a small pout, squinting against the bring sun to zero in on the book she had in her hand."Miss, I think you forgot these on our last stop on Tobago." The captain pulled two well read books from under his coat handing them to the young girl. the copies had been as they were when Gaara had last held them. "I figured since you read those things they might be yours."
A hiss passed the boys teeth, baring them in great dismay, she was not the one after all, although he had felt it easier to blame someone who had not the physical strength to do much of anything to his accusations. He ground his teeth as he watched the captain hand his books to that pirate wretch, noting she could probably have that smug I-told-you-so look. He grumbled pulling himself to straddle the parallel mast that extended what looked for miles to the small boy, giving him a far better reach to the loose sail he was sent to fix. laying his stomach flat to the smooth wooden beam, he extended his arm to reach for the flailing line. He had finally grasped his fingers around the rope, feeling his body nearly stretched to the limits feeling himself slid to the side to accommodate the distance. It had been far too late when he had realized just how far he had leaned loosing all balance and composure he slipped with only the strength of his arm glued to the line keeping him from falling to his death. a sharp intake of air feeling his body jerk from the sudden stop and the sway of his body in the forceful winds. Even so, there was no scream, no panic to see if anyone would rush to save him, in this life he learned to trust only himself without the reliance n others, only grunts of effort of keeping his strong grip tight as he dangled like a rag doll from over head.
The Captain turning his attention high above to monitor the ruckus that was in fact his son holding to his life line with every effort he could. a smirk poised his lips as he crossed his arms over his chest to watch the boy fix his error with great amusement.
A simple nod here or a smile there to any man who held enough courage (or perhaps kindness) to greet her, she followed along behind the captain in disdain. She was not sure whether her gestures were genuine or not, having coming to rely on her facade long enough to find little difference between respectable and tolerance. For all truths and purposes, she simply wanted to be back in her room where there was no hope for any more problems or conflict. Because truly, she had her fill of it in the past weeks of being on this ship. Her thoughts were pulled away from that small nugget of hope however when two very familiar looking books came into her line of view, the ever courteous captain presenting them from inside the pockets of his jacket. Her dark eyes widened just a fraction at recognizing them, fore she had remembered the texture of the cover when she had held The Odyssey in her hands, had kept it in her possession when it had been dropped that night that seemed so long ago.
Gaara's missing books. So he had been the one to take them that day. But what was he doing traveling so far away from the town as they had when he had business to attend to? Had he seen a need to seek her out, to seek him out? Or was it a mere coincidence that all three of them had happened on to the same exact place, seeking it out for different reasons? She suppressed a shudder at the thought of him wanting to catch her bathing there, to watch in secret as the water washed over the feminine lines of her body. It would mean death to touch her because of who Tenten's father was, so did that mean he would find other means of satisfying his admiration of her body?
All disgust and horror at that simple thought disappeared however when she heard the commotion from above, joining with the crew in a collective gasp of shock of seeing Gaara hanging from a rope tied to the main sail using only the sheer strength of his arms and his will to keep holding on. She took a step forward, wanting to help in any way she could before thinking better of it. No doubt she was the last person he wished to see let alone did he need to seek out any aid she could provide, especially dressed as she was. It was a useless thought to think she could manage do do anything more than bow and smile in her robes, less than extravagantly elegant but still lovely nonetheless.
The movement of the young woman at his side caught the captains peripheral vision, in turn juggling attention between the dangling boy and the sweet princess he had more often than not visualized while making love to the brothel whore beneath him. The elder man had a set in his mind for some demented reason that the Pirate lord, his acquaintance just as well give his daughter over as a wife to him for his gracious deeds in the offer to protect her. the thoughts coming more and more enjoyable he longer she had remained in his presents dressed like a little doll as he would have wished of her every day, perhaps for show off his prize to all. But here she was, her dark eyes widened at the sight of the rat hanging to his doom in worry, a picture he had no imagined his young son was capable of grasping a woman of his interested in such away.
His arm was beginning to burn, as they weight of his own body ripped through the thin structure of his arm feeling the harsh stretch coursing through at a rapid rate. how could he have allowed himself to become careless, she was just a girl in a pretty dress. shaking his head back to the reality that faced him now, calming him panic motions casting a swing to build momentum in order to hook his leg around the beam to secure his safety again. a few rough sways back and forth had enabled him to do just that, using the last of his draining strength to yank himself upright. Falling flat against the parallel mast, he could feel the rush if blood surfacing to his face as the heavy beat of his heart throbbed as though it would leap from his chest. his vision clouded over as he forced himself once again to the pair below one with a very obvious scrawl across his face, the other with a look of worry. He knew that look from his father, something that he had seen more often than not but it mostly came about when the man was far too heavy into liquor, but this was different some how Gaara not able to place his finger as to why this bone chilling pierced through his body when dark eyes nearly tore a hole through pale aquamarine.
Mustering what little strength he had left, he shimmied his way to the mesh dragging the line along with him. securing the loose ends in a few knots to keep it from flapping freely against the harsh winds. with that final, he began his climb back down, down to where he would face his demon for god knows what. The Young man could not even imagine what he had done this time, unless the captain knew of the events before, that she might have told him of his sharp tongue and wicked temper he chose to hide.
Dark eyes trained on his form high overhead at the top of the main sail where he whipped and swayed in the wind, she watched intently for something, anything to happen. Because the waiting and the watching was a cause of far more agony than simply knowing he was up there holding on for dear life. Slender fingers held tight to the three books in her arms, clutched to her chest while she looked on with baited breath to see what would happen next, if the young boy would manage to hold on long enough or fall to his doom. But she should have known better, as resilient as he had been over the years while under the ruling thumb of his merchant father.
Before she realized it or had a chance to stop it from coming out, a sigh breezed past her lips in relief when Gaara managed to right himself on the crossbar of the mass and moved along the beam to fix the what he had initially climbed up there to repair. With the captain standing close at hand, he no doubt had heard her openly express her concern for his son just like any other person of the crew would for one of their own. But the look she had seen just a ghost of out the corner of her eye told of some underlying anger bubbling up towards the surface, for what reason, she could only guess at. The man was a mystery to her, one she was all to ready to forget. Whatever sort of outcome that would come of this, she supposed she would never know as the merchant had made certain to keep all of his torturous actions below deck where there would be no visible witness to the beatings. But for the moment she would not care, all her thoughts turning towards the seagreen eyes as he descended down the wooden mass to the safety of the deck. Stiff slaps on the back and mumbles of concern passed between the crew, pressing with them a level of sentiment that seemed lacking from the ship's captain and the boy's father.
She would have offered him a small, but soon recalled their conversation from the night before and thought better of it. It was best not to engage in any sort of semblance of a friendship with the young boy. He had made it quite clear that she was of little concern to him, and so her expressions of concern and/or relief would not matter much either. Instead, she simply held the books closer to her body, already making plans to return the two to him as soon as the opportunity presented itself. They were his precious treasures in a sense, his one and only escape from a reality where a father only held hatred and malice for a son who had done nothing but coming into the world. Worlds of adventure and excitement poured out from the written words on the pages, erasing the hurt and resentment. And it was something she could never take from anyone.
He took a moment to calm his nerves, to ease his blurred mind of what had just happened. How amazing it was the boy was even able to pull such feats of survival to save his own neck. It was true to the fact simple slip of his finger to allow himself to plummet into the decks with an explosion of blood and guts, a gory death that would no doubt unphase his fathers standing, and the young man's suffering would finally end. He had not known why at that instant he had lifted pale eyes to meet earthy brown, in a fraction of a second he felt something deep in the pit of his stomach, a feeling of wishy washy and nerves rolled into one. Again, rushing such foolish thoughts of a mythic emotion only read about melting away at the swift drop of his gaze to the 3 books in her hands. the narrow eyes of the cold hearted boy fro the night before had returned, the thoughts of his own flesh giving what belonged to him to her. would he dare asked for them back, for fear of being...
"LAND HO!"
A low hallow grunt escaped the boy as he was grasped up roguishly by the neck. The intense, harsh stare of the black eyes of the devil staring back in growling rumble in his chest. "You show off, BRAT" leaving the men and the young woman behind, forgetting all else but the wide eyed red head in his firm grip being dragged to his usual spot of torment. "Your trying to destroy my ship!" A frantic shake from side to side, as smaller fingers grasped around his thicker wrists in a silent plea of apology, but again like much of everything else verbalized from Gaara in his fathers presents he allowed what be will be, and take what was coming anyway. His body still far too weak from saving his own neck the first time to even bother to try for the second. from the fiery look in the eldest eyes, one he had only seen when the smell of rum was strong on his breath when he was out for entertainment, it was frightening to he core to see him with that same look without the influence that made Gaara's knees nearly buckle in panic.
She had offered him a small and genuine smile, something that would let him at least know that she was somewhat glad he was alive if nothing else would pass between them. But as Tenten watched his gaze drop to the books in her arms, she knew that any semblance of a civil encounter were lost in that instance. His books were precious to him, more important than any singular object in the entire world, save perhaps for his father. But that was only a concern bred and cultivated through years of torment, and not one of merit or love, hardly one of respect for the man who found pleasure in abusing his power. And just as that thought crossed her mind, there was the devil himself, throwing around his authority like it was a gift from the ancient spirits above.
Before she had enough time to realize it, the merchant was already dragging his son off below for a more private lesson on respect, and perhaps fear (though she suspected fear was something Gaara had lost all connection to long ago). She would have made one last attempt in stopping the madness of it had not the men barred her way, knowing, seeing already in her soft and gentle eyes what she had planned to do. Shaking their heads much like the night in the not to distant past when she and the young boy had recited a few lines from The Iliad together, they wordlessly told her again that there was nothing she could do. This was a routine that had gone on long before her presence was made on the ship, long before her father had stepped foot in Atlantic waters. And it would continue on after she left these shores and returned to her home in the far east. "I'm sorry, miss, but this is somethin' that 'e 'as to deal with 'imself. No'in' you can do abou' it now but stay ou' of 'ere way."
Though she knew it to be true, it still did not make it any easier to endure. There were not screams of pain nor sounds of struggle like before, perhaps drowned out by the work of the other men as they prepared to make port in Trinidad, which only made it more unbearable. Left to the imagination, the human mind could come up with horrifying situations that only turned her blood ice cold. With the suggestion of a few of the more kinder and considerate men, she was pointed towards the bow of the ship where she could see the island of Trinidad, slowly drifting closer by the minute. A lifetime of lessons in one round trip in the Caribbean, she could not help but think.
There was no sign of her father anywhere on shore, nor did she expect there to be. Time frame was something of a rarity in the pirate profession, often times hunts for the more valuable of treasures would take weeks even months to complete, so hidden were their secrets. But her father had given a set time, and no doubt had discussed it with the merchant captain before they had set out. So it would only be a matter of time before she would be free of that vial man, within a day or two, three at most. A few days and she would be out of Gaara's life forever. Why that mattered to her was a mystery, but it was simply one thought among a thousand that was drifting around in her mind as the wooden planks of the docks came into view. "Tch...He probably won't even notice when I'm gone."
It was what seemed like hours after the merchant captain had stepped back out on deck, minute after they had docked weighing anchor to the familiar ports they had left behind over 2 weeks ago. The brought a white cloth to his heads, cleaning what remained from the lesson to his misbehaved son. the cloth stained crimson blotches as the color of his profound mercy upon one that was far weaker than himself. one he had to prove was better? but for why? and for what reason, as Gaara had done nothing in his life but try and please his unrulling father. His heavy foot steps carried him down the angle of the ramp to the docks which awaited him, his head held high as if he 'd accomplished something great while his young son suffered even still below decks.
"Your safe on this Island, little miss.. feel free to do as you please. your father should be arriving tonight." He raised his voice tilting his glance over his shoulder at the slender frame of the young woman of his affections. It was possibly a silent invitation to visit him later on her own free will. "I will have your things boarded when he arrives. rest assure." With his final words he walked off with a handful of crew left behind in his wake.
"One 'o theses days... he' get what's comin'" A few found grumbling under husky breaths, as the final clean up for the dock had begun, not even then were they able to go and check on he young lad until work was finished. "We're sorry for this miss, for some reason it seem more sever than usual. poor boy is' probably dead, if not sent back to his bed below deck. evil man, captain can be."
"...Thank you, Captain..." The not so subtle implications of the merchant's last words sent shivers of disdain up along her spine, and goosebumps raised up underneath the fabric of her robes with disgust at such an idea. Her lips turned in a notable frown while trying her best not to have a revisit with her breakfast at the notion. Instead she only glanced over her shoulder in reaction to his words and kept her eyes fixed forward for the time being. The streets were already busy and bustling with life, patrons and sellers alike roaming along the cobble stones of the roads to unknown destinations, all ignorant or at the very least turning a blind eye to the cruelties that existed around them. For the captain of their ship to even think of suggesting something like that to her was beyond comprehension, especially with a man of his caliber and despicable nature.
Whether she liked it or not, no matter how hard she tried to avoid placing any more time on the matter, all her thoughts turned to Gaara and how he was fairing after this latest encounter with the one who would seek to continuously imprison and punish him to a point of breaking. And it did not help her much to hear the sailor's comments on the situation, kind as he was to at least address the matter where she had simply been left to wonder. No, Gaara would not be dead, not by his hand. After all this time of surviving, the young boy would not give his father the satisfaction of bringing death to his young son...would he?
"...I have to find out for sure if he's alright." Determined, she lifted her head up and glanced around for any prying eyes that might see what she was planning. The men were still busy preparing to dock into port and the captain was no doubt preoccupied with his duties as well. So the coast was clear for her to sneak down below deck and check on the poor lad and perhaps tend to some of his more serious injuries before she left. It was a big risk to take, but it would be the first of many in her life. He had been right, it was her place to determine the course of her life, not her fathers and not of a society that held no interest in her beyond what laid between her legs. She was a pirate, and if not now, then when would she begin acting like one?
She crept as quietly as she could, slipping off her heeled shoes once out of sight of the others and searching about below for the missing red-head. Softly she called to him, hoping beyond hope that he would respond. "...Gaara? Gaara, where are you?"
Behind a stack of crates was where she found him, on a mat of hay where he had made his bed, often never sleeping in it as she had discovered during her stay, but always dreaming with his eyes open. The first thing that she noticed was the blood, not a great pool of it, but enough to cause concern as she knelt down beside his seemingly lifeless body and reached out a hand to check for serious injuries. "Oh my...Gaara? Gaara, can you hear me?..."
The beat of his own heart was a hollow sound thudding against the walls of his mind, contempt with the death that had not yet graced he boy since it began, but the pain....if felt as though his entire was ignited and left to burn like on that nigh many years ago. His thoughts and body lay in a dark place, alone and crying ready for fate to finally take his sol in the next life where an angle of a woman would await him, dowsed in white as he had read about holy figures shrouded in a blanket of piercing light, kind and caring beings, surely his mother was one of these people. The thoughts of how he pictured such a woman, so fine and gentle wanting nothing more than to cradled the son who had never felt the love he needed, the image causing a warm trickle of a tear fall from swollen eyes down over a blood stain cheek. There was no remorse this time, his face was not saved by the sad attempt at protecting it from harm, a natural instinct for any man to want to ease the pain and damage. It had failed, for the merchants' anger was not that of something random or amusement, he had said so , if Gaara was in the right mind to listen or remember his rant and he finished his work only one word stood out from all the rest. Tenten.
He had snapped from his daze, the sound of her voice replaced the echo of the one he wished to hear, the woman of his dreams. Lifting his forehead from where it rested against his knees, parting the lids just a fraction to make a faint blurry outline of the girl that had brought him back into reality like a vacuum. The sight of her reaching out was a familiar, but the woman was different in appearance...wasn't she? He could not control the lump in his throat, the swell of tears finally surfacing to show the boys true emotion. her sympathy was not needed in his world, he had never received it from the time he was able to walk, and now her showing him kindness was they thing that caused more damage than aid. That in mind he sniffed back harshly against the running fluid dripping from every part that was able, a dirty blood covered hand reached out to stop her, swatting her from touching. Taking that time to leap from the creates set for his bed and took off running.
She was not exactly glowing in a white film of light like he had hoped or prayed, not exactly the woman Gaara had envisioned standing over him with the promise of taking him to a better place. Perhaps she was nothing more than a devil in disguise for all the trouble that she had caused him, both knowingly and unknowingly. Her garments were of deep and vibrant hues, neither flashy nor dull, but a perfect balance between the two extremes and still elegant as they did well to accentuate the better qualities of her subtle features. But they were not the flowing fabrics of the heaven that he sought out, far from it. The world that she lived in was a reality he had no doubt hated all his life, while the place he dreamed of existed beyond her reach. Tenten could never give him what he desired, but she had hoped she could at least give him some form of comfort. Her reasons for feeling a need to do so were a mystery even to her, but all the same that had been her only intent.
She had known that he would move away from her touch, scorn it, so tender and fresh were his wounds that any sort of pressure would more than likely be more of a burden than a blessing. But she had not expected for him to flee from her presence as he did, like the hounds of Hades were nipping at his heels. It was as if the mere brush of her gentle fingers burned his skin. And in a brief moment before he had disappeared completely to a different part of the ship, she had seen the gashes and the cuts across his arms, his face. Nothing had been spared in the captain's wrath, his reasons behind this lesson of torment sudden and unexplained. A flash of fear, a bolt of panic and he was gone just like that, out of her life just as quickly as he had entered into it, leaving her behind with a hand clenched over her heart as it thumped hard against her chest. "What did he do to you, Gaara?"
Her whispers of concern were lost to the wind, no one in sight to hear or give answer to them, though she expected none. Perhaps there were no answers for her here. This was not her world but his, not her place to pry or prod, but simply to learn from the experiences she gained as a bystander in the background. And it was then that the girl's gaze shifted to the pile of books beside her. Two belonged to Gaara, the last was hers. He had not stayed long enough for her to return them to him as they had been mistakenly placed in her care by his unruly father who thought the young boy unworthy of ever possessing them. Reaching out to trail her fingers over the hard covers, she thought that he should have them back all the same, even if he refused to remain in her presence long enough for her to do so. And so with a quick glance around the crew's quarters that she quietly slid the two volumes under the bed of hay, wordlessly returning to her room just long enough to drop off her copy of Le Morte D'Arthur before making her way off the ship, never to step foot into Gaara's life ever again.
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~
Gaara had been up on deck since the first break of dawn with the rest of the crew, he had resumed his quiet-head-down demeanor from the night before as now he was about to be graced in the company of the man himself. of course it was like a ritual when the captain had taken his first steps of the early morning to throw around his authority as his position in tells. The man was full of himself beyond belief, perhaps because this ship and the small Island was the only place in this world here he could dominate over every thing and everyone in his way. But Gaara just went about his daily routine as much of the other sailors stopping in a bow of respect to the elder man in passing, although Gaara had discovered in his best interest to avoid such things as the can only end up with a swift clip to his head and deprived of food for a few days if tilting his had the wrong way.
"BOY.... " The Yondaime bark from where he stood with his arms placed sternly over his chest. eyeing the boy in line with the other sailors tugging in time against the pulley to raise one of many sails. With his head down for much of the work, avoid unnecessary confrontation he had not noticed of the shackle had come loose high above to one of the main sails. "Are you just going to stand there looking like an idiot get up there!"
As the order was passed, Gaara immediately released the line without question, his soot covered bare feet tapped along the floor boards of the deck until reaching the mesh that would allow him to climb high to the mass of sails and lines. lifting his head as he grasped his fingers around the thick rope of the mesh his feet to follow beginning his climb that would take him to the desired destination.
With a thick book in hand, one Le Morte D'arthur that told of the life and death of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table in the distant land of Camelot, she ascended the stairs that brought her up on deck where the men were busy moving about their business in maintaining their course towards the small island of Trinidad. Whether her father would be back from his hunt for treasure with this unknown pirate boy who seemed just at the beginning of his career was yet to be said. Some of his more elaborate searches for treasure or items of value were known to take weeks, even months if need be. All the more worth it to find. But the merchant ship and her crew could only stay away from her home port for so long before having to return in order to make new business or fill out new orders so that they could make an honest profit alongside any other unnamed clients the captain might find it beneficial to associate with.
She emerged from the dark hull of the ship just in time to watch Gaara climb up the mass towards the top of the main sail where the problem seemed to reside. Quick footed and swift in his movements, he was every bit as skilled as any other man in the crew, perhaps even more so because of his size and long years forcibly working for his father. He was a great value to this ship and it's functions. Along with the loyalty he held with the men of his father's crew, Gaara could very easily command this ship himself. Sympathies and little hope for mercy to the merchant captain the day Gaara would finally realize that small truth among the mountain of lies he had been fed all his life.
Painted up like nothing more than a living doll for all to see, she stepped forwards onto the deck and quickly made her way through the crowd of men going about their daily routine, the soft heel of her shoes clip-clapping against the wood with every step. They were nearing the more populated and well traveled portion of the shipping lanes and she felt it less suspicious that she dress the part of maiden, if she really was to follow the captain around on his rounds. She was much better at disappearing into the background of obscurity after all, and what better way to do so than to play up the role that everyone seemed to ignore for the most part.
He paused the moment he had scurried to the very top where the problem had came about, the corner flapping to the wind violently as his short arm found it was not long enough to grasp his fingers around what needed. Stretching his body just a little farther he arced his neck slightly catching a rather colorful glimpse of the young lady from the night before, decked out in fancy cloths fitting for a spoiled pirate princess she was. Even as much as h growled under his breath at the sight of her trailing along behind his father his pale eyes could not tear away from the mystery that was who she was as a woman, a person to which he found an entertaining, yet irritable bod with after years of having no one his own age. His lips pressed together in a small pout, squinting against the bring sun to zero in on the book she had in her hand."Miss, I think you forgot these on our last stop on Tobago." The captain pulled two well read books from under his coat handing them to the young girl. the copies had been as they were when Gaara had last held them. "I figured since you read those things they might be yours."
A hiss passed the boys teeth, baring them in great dismay, she was not the one after all, although he had felt it easier to blame someone who had not the physical strength to do much of anything to his accusations. He ground his teeth as he watched the captain hand his books to that pirate wretch, noting she could probably have that smug I-told-you-so look. He grumbled pulling himself to straddle the parallel mast that extended what looked for miles to the small boy, giving him a far better reach to the loose sail he was sent to fix. laying his stomach flat to the smooth wooden beam, he extended his arm to reach for the flailing line. He had finally grasped his fingers around the rope, feeling his body nearly stretched to the limits feeling himself slid to the side to accommodate the distance. It had been far too late when he had realized just how far he had leaned loosing all balance and composure he slipped with only the strength of his arm glued to the line keeping him from falling to his death. a sharp intake of air feeling his body jerk from the sudden stop and the sway of his body in the forceful winds. Even so, there was no scream, no panic to see if anyone would rush to save him, in this life he learned to trust only himself without the reliance n others, only grunts of effort of keeping his strong grip tight as he dangled like a rag doll from over head.
The Captain turning his attention high above to monitor the ruckus that was in fact his son holding to his life line with every effort he could. a smirk poised his lips as he crossed his arms over his chest to watch the boy fix his error with great amusement.
A simple nod here or a smile there to any man who held enough courage (or perhaps kindness) to greet her, she followed along behind the captain in disdain. She was not sure whether her gestures were genuine or not, having coming to rely on her facade long enough to find little difference between respectable and tolerance. For all truths and purposes, she simply wanted to be back in her room where there was no hope for any more problems or conflict. Because truly, she had her fill of it in the past weeks of being on this ship. Her thoughts were pulled away from that small nugget of hope however when two very familiar looking books came into her line of view, the ever courteous captain presenting them from inside the pockets of his jacket. Her dark eyes widened just a fraction at recognizing them, fore she had remembered the texture of the cover when she had held The Odyssey in her hands, had kept it in her possession when it had been dropped that night that seemed so long ago.
Gaara's missing books. So he had been the one to take them that day. But what was he doing traveling so far away from the town as they had when he had business to attend to? Had he seen a need to seek her out, to seek him out? Or was it a mere coincidence that all three of them had happened on to the same exact place, seeking it out for different reasons? She suppressed a shudder at the thought of him wanting to catch her bathing there, to watch in secret as the water washed over the feminine lines of her body. It would mean death to touch her because of who Tenten's father was, so did that mean he would find other means of satisfying his admiration of her body?
All disgust and horror at that simple thought disappeared however when she heard the commotion from above, joining with the crew in a collective gasp of shock of seeing Gaara hanging from a rope tied to the main sail using only the sheer strength of his arms and his will to keep holding on. She took a step forward, wanting to help in any way she could before thinking better of it. No doubt she was the last person he wished to see let alone did he need to seek out any aid she could provide, especially dressed as she was. It was a useless thought to think she could manage do do anything more than bow and smile in her robes, less than extravagantly elegant but still lovely nonetheless.
The movement of the young woman at his side caught the captains peripheral vision, in turn juggling attention between the dangling boy and the sweet princess he had more often than not visualized while making love to the brothel whore beneath him. The elder man had a set in his mind for some demented reason that the Pirate lord, his acquaintance just as well give his daughter over as a wife to him for his gracious deeds in the offer to protect her. the thoughts coming more and more enjoyable he longer she had remained in his presents dressed like a little doll as he would have wished of her every day, perhaps for show off his prize to all. But here she was, her dark eyes widened at the sight of the rat hanging to his doom in worry, a picture he had no imagined his young son was capable of grasping a woman of his interested in such away.
His arm was beginning to burn, as they weight of his own body ripped through the thin structure of his arm feeling the harsh stretch coursing through at a rapid rate. how could he have allowed himself to become careless, she was just a girl in a pretty dress. shaking his head back to the reality that faced him now, calming him panic motions casting a swing to build momentum in order to hook his leg around the beam to secure his safety again. a few rough sways back and forth had enabled him to do just that, using the last of his draining strength to yank himself upright. Falling flat against the parallel mast, he could feel the rush if blood surfacing to his face as the heavy beat of his heart throbbed as though it would leap from his chest. his vision clouded over as he forced himself once again to the pair below one with a very obvious scrawl across his face, the other with a look of worry. He knew that look from his father, something that he had seen more often than not but it mostly came about when the man was far too heavy into liquor, but this was different some how Gaara not able to place his finger as to why this bone chilling pierced through his body when dark eyes nearly tore a hole through pale aquamarine.
Mustering what little strength he had left, he shimmied his way to the mesh dragging the line along with him. securing the loose ends in a few knots to keep it from flapping freely against the harsh winds. with that final, he began his climb back down, down to where he would face his demon for god knows what. The Young man could not even imagine what he had done this time, unless the captain knew of the events before, that she might have told him of his sharp tongue and wicked temper he chose to hide.
Dark eyes trained on his form high overhead at the top of the main sail where he whipped and swayed in the wind, she watched intently for something, anything to happen. Because the waiting and the watching was a cause of far more agony than simply knowing he was up there holding on for dear life. Slender fingers held tight to the three books in her arms, clutched to her chest while she looked on with baited breath to see what would happen next, if the young boy would manage to hold on long enough or fall to his doom. But she should have known better, as resilient as he had been over the years while under the ruling thumb of his merchant father.
Before she realized it or had a chance to stop it from coming out, a sigh breezed past her lips in relief when Gaara managed to right himself on the crossbar of the mass and moved along the beam to fix the what he had initially climbed up there to repair. With the captain standing close at hand, he no doubt had heard her openly express her concern for his son just like any other person of the crew would for one of their own. But the look she had seen just a ghost of out the corner of her eye told of some underlying anger bubbling up towards the surface, for what reason, she could only guess at. The man was a mystery to her, one she was all to ready to forget. Whatever sort of outcome that would come of this, she supposed she would never know as the merchant had made certain to keep all of his torturous actions below deck where there would be no visible witness to the beatings. But for the moment she would not care, all her thoughts turning towards the seagreen eyes as he descended down the wooden mass to the safety of the deck. Stiff slaps on the back and mumbles of concern passed between the crew, pressing with them a level of sentiment that seemed lacking from the ship's captain and the boy's father.
She would have offered him a small, but soon recalled their conversation from the night before and thought better of it. It was best not to engage in any sort of semblance of a friendship with the young boy. He had made it quite clear that she was of little concern to him, and so her expressions of concern and/or relief would not matter much either. Instead, she simply held the books closer to her body, already making plans to return the two to him as soon as the opportunity presented itself. They were his precious treasures in a sense, his one and only escape from a reality where a father only held hatred and malice for a son who had done nothing but coming into the world. Worlds of adventure and excitement poured out from the written words on the pages, erasing the hurt and resentment. And it was something she could never take from anyone.
He took a moment to calm his nerves, to ease his blurred mind of what had just happened. How amazing it was the boy was even able to pull such feats of survival to save his own neck. It was true to the fact simple slip of his finger to allow himself to plummet into the decks with an explosion of blood and guts, a gory death that would no doubt unphase his fathers standing, and the young man's suffering would finally end. He had not known why at that instant he had lifted pale eyes to meet earthy brown, in a fraction of a second he felt something deep in the pit of his stomach, a feeling of wishy washy and nerves rolled into one. Again, rushing such foolish thoughts of a mythic emotion only read about melting away at the swift drop of his gaze to the 3 books in her hands. the narrow eyes of the cold hearted boy fro the night before had returned, the thoughts of his own flesh giving what belonged to him to her. would he dare asked for them back, for fear of being...
"LAND HO!"
A low hallow grunt escaped the boy as he was grasped up roguishly by the neck. The intense, harsh stare of the black eyes of the devil staring back in growling rumble in his chest. "You show off, BRAT" leaving the men and the young woman behind, forgetting all else but the wide eyed red head in his firm grip being dragged to his usual spot of torment. "Your trying to destroy my ship!" A frantic shake from side to side, as smaller fingers grasped around his thicker wrists in a silent plea of apology, but again like much of everything else verbalized from Gaara in his fathers presents he allowed what be will be, and take what was coming anyway. His body still far too weak from saving his own neck the first time to even bother to try for the second. from the fiery look in the eldest eyes, one he had only seen when the smell of rum was strong on his breath when he was out for entertainment, it was frightening to he core to see him with that same look without the influence that made Gaara's knees nearly buckle in panic.
She had offered him a small and genuine smile, something that would let him at least know that she was somewhat glad he was alive if nothing else would pass between them. But as Tenten watched his gaze drop to the books in her arms, she knew that any semblance of a civil encounter were lost in that instance. His books were precious to him, more important than any singular object in the entire world, save perhaps for his father. But that was only a concern bred and cultivated through years of torment, and not one of merit or love, hardly one of respect for the man who found pleasure in abusing his power. And just as that thought crossed her mind, there was the devil himself, throwing around his authority like it was a gift from the ancient spirits above.
Before she had enough time to realize it, the merchant was already dragging his son off below for a more private lesson on respect, and perhaps fear (though she suspected fear was something Gaara had lost all connection to long ago). She would have made one last attempt in stopping the madness of it had not the men barred her way, knowing, seeing already in her soft and gentle eyes what she had planned to do. Shaking their heads much like the night in the not to distant past when she and the young boy had recited a few lines from The Iliad together, they wordlessly told her again that there was nothing she could do. This was a routine that had gone on long before her presence was made on the ship, long before her father had stepped foot in Atlantic waters. And it would continue on after she left these shores and returned to her home in the far east. "I'm sorry, miss, but this is somethin' that 'e 'as to deal with 'imself. No'in' you can do abou' it now but stay ou' of 'ere way."
Though she knew it to be true, it still did not make it any easier to endure. There were not screams of pain nor sounds of struggle like before, perhaps drowned out by the work of the other men as they prepared to make port in Trinidad, which only made it more unbearable. Left to the imagination, the human mind could come up with horrifying situations that only turned her blood ice cold. With the suggestion of a few of the more kinder and considerate men, she was pointed towards the bow of the ship where she could see the island of Trinidad, slowly drifting closer by the minute. A lifetime of lessons in one round trip in the Caribbean, she could not help but think.
There was no sign of her father anywhere on shore, nor did she expect there to be. Time frame was something of a rarity in the pirate profession, often times hunts for the more valuable of treasures would take weeks even months to complete, so hidden were their secrets. But her father had given a set time, and no doubt had discussed it with the merchant captain before they had set out. So it would only be a matter of time before she would be free of that vial man, within a day or two, three at most. A few days and she would be out of Gaara's life forever. Why that mattered to her was a mystery, but it was simply one thought among a thousand that was drifting around in her mind as the wooden planks of the docks came into view. "Tch...He probably won't even notice when I'm gone."
It was what seemed like hours after the merchant captain had stepped back out on deck, minute after they had docked weighing anchor to the familiar ports they had left behind over 2 weeks ago. The brought a white cloth to his heads, cleaning what remained from the lesson to his misbehaved son. the cloth stained crimson blotches as the color of his profound mercy upon one that was far weaker than himself. one he had to prove was better? but for why? and for what reason, as Gaara had done nothing in his life but try and please his unrulling father. His heavy foot steps carried him down the angle of the ramp to the docks which awaited him, his head held high as if he 'd accomplished something great while his young son suffered even still below decks.
"Your safe on this Island, little miss.. feel free to do as you please. your father should be arriving tonight." He raised his voice tilting his glance over his shoulder at the slender frame of the young woman of his affections. It was possibly a silent invitation to visit him later on her own free will. "I will have your things boarded when he arrives. rest assure." With his final words he walked off with a handful of crew left behind in his wake.
"One 'o theses days... he' get what's comin'" A few found grumbling under husky breaths, as the final clean up for the dock had begun, not even then were they able to go and check on he young lad until work was finished. "We're sorry for this miss, for some reason it seem more sever than usual. poor boy is' probably dead, if not sent back to his bed below deck. evil man, captain can be."
"...Thank you, Captain..." The not so subtle implications of the merchant's last words sent shivers of disdain up along her spine, and goosebumps raised up underneath the fabric of her robes with disgust at such an idea. Her lips turned in a notable frown while trying her best not to have a revisit with her breakfast at the notion. Instead she only glanced over her shoulder in reaction to his words and kept her eyes fixed forward for the time being. The streets were already busy and bustling with life, patrons and sellers alike roaming along the cobble stones of the roads to unknown destinations, all ignorant or at the very least turning a blind eye to the cruelties that existed around them. For the captain of their ship to even think of suggesting something like that to her was beyond comprehension, especially with a man of his caliber and despicable nature.
Whether she liked it or not, no matter how hard she tried to avoid placing any more time on the matter, all her thoughts turned to Gaara and how he was fairing after this latest encounter with the one who would seek to continuously imprison and punish him to a point of breaking. And it did not help her much to hear the sailor's comments on the situation, kind as he was to at least address the matter where she had simply been left to wonder. No, Gaara would not be dead, not by his hand. After all this time of surviving, the young boy would not give his father the satisfaction of bringing death to his young son...would he?
"...I have to find out for sure if he's alright." Determined, she lifted her head up and glanced around for any prying eyes that might see what she was planning. The men were still busy preparing to dock into port and the captain was no doubt preoccupied with his duties as well. So the coast was clear for her to sneak down below deck and check on the poor lad and perhaps tend to some of his more serious injuries before she left. It was a big risk to take, but it would be the first of many in her life. He had been right, it was her place to determine the course of her life, not her fathers and not of a society that held no interest in her beyond what laid between her legs. She was a pirate, and if not now, then when would she begin acting like one?
She crept as quietly as she could, slipping off her heeled shoes once out of sight of the others and searching about below for the missing red-head. Softly she called to him, hoping beyond hope that he would respond. "...Gaara? Gaara, where are you?"
Behind a stack of crates was where she found him, on a mat of hay where he had made his bed, often never sleeping in it as she had discovered during her stay, but always dreaming with his eyes open. The first thing that she noticed was the blood, not a great pool of it, but enough to cause concern as she knelt down beside his seemingly lifeless body and reached out a hand to check for serious injuries. "Oh my...Gaara? Gaara, can you hear me?..."
The beat of his own heart was a hollow sound thudding against the walls of his mind, contempt with the death that had not yet graced he boy since it began, but the pain....if felt as though his entire was ignited and left to burn like on that nigh many years ago. His thoughts and body lay in a dark place, alone and crying ready for fate to finally take his sol in the next life where an angle of a woman would await him, dowsed in white as he had read about holy figures shrouded in a blanket of piercing light, kind and caring beings, surely his mother was one of these people. The thoughts of how he pictured such a woman, so fine and gentle wanting nothing more than to cradled the son who had never felt the love he needed, the image causing a warm trickle of a tear fall from swollen eyes down over a blood stain cheek. There was no remorse this time, his face was not saved by the sad attempt at protecting it from harm, a natural instinct for any man to want to ease the pain and damage. It had failed, for the merchants' anger was not that of something random or amusement, he had said so , if Gaara was in the right mind to listen or remember his rant and he finished his work only one word stood out from all the rest. Tenten.
He had snapped from his daze, the sound of her voice replaced the echo of the one he wished to hear, the woman of his dreams. Lifting his forehead from where it rested against his knees, parting the lids just a fraction to make a faint blurry outline of the girl that had brought him back into reality like a vacuum. The sight of her reaching out was a familiar, but the woman was different in appearance...wasn't she? He could not control the lump in his throat, the swell of tears finally surfacing to show the boys true emotion. her sympathy was not needed in his world, he had never received it from the time he was able to walk, and now her showing him kindness was they thing that caused more damage than aid. That in mind he sniffed back harshly against the running fluid dripping from every part that was able, a dirty blood covered hand reached out to stop her, swatting her from touching. Taking that time to leap from the creates set for his bed and took off running.
She was not exactly glowing in a white film of light like he had hoped or prayed, not exactly the woman Gaara had envisioned standing over him with the promise of taking him to a better place. Perhaps she was nothing more than a devil in disguise for all the trouble that she had caused him, both knowingly and unknowingly. Her garments were of deep and vibrant hues, neither flashy nor dull, but a perfect balance between the two extremes and still elegant as they did well to accentuate the better qualities of her subtle features. But they were not the flowing fabrics of the heaven that he sought out, far from it. The world that she lived in was a reality he had no doubt hated all his life, while the place he dreamed of existed beyond her reach. Tenten could never give him what he desired, but she had hoped she could at least give him some form of comfort. Her reasons for feeling a need to do so were a mystery even to her, but all the same that had been her only intent.
She had known that he would move away from her touch, scorn it, so tender and fresh were his wounds that any sort of pressure would more than likely be more of a burden than a blessing. But she had not expected for him to flee from her presence as he did, like the hounds of Hades were nipping at his heels. It was as if the mere brush of her gentle fingers burned his skin. And in a brief moment before he had disappeared completely to a different part of the ship, she had seen the gashes and the cuts across his arms, his face. Nothing had been spared in the captain's wrath, his reasons behind this lesson of torment sudden and unexplained. A flash of fear, a bolt of panic and he was gone just like that, out of her life just as quickly as he had entered into it, leaving her behind with a hand clenched over her heart as it thumped hard against her chest. "What did he do to you, Gaara?"
Her whispers of concern were lost to the wind, no one in sight to hear or give answer to them, though she expected none. Perhaps there were no answers for her here. This was not her world but his, not her place to pry or prod, but simply to learn from the experiences she gained as a bystander in the background. And it was then that the girl's gaze shifted to the pile of books beside her. Two belonged to Gaara, the last was hers. He had not stayed long enough for her to return them to him as they had been mistakenly placed in her care by his unruly father who thought the young boy unworthy of ever possessing them. Reaching out to trail her fingers over the hard covers, she thought that he should have them back all the same, even if he refused to remain in her presence long enough for her to do so. And so with a quick glance around the crew's quarters that she quietly slid the two volumes under the bed of hay, wordlessly returning to her room just long enough to drop off her copy of Le Morte D'Arthur before making her way off the ship, never to step foot into Gaara's life ever again.