by Siri Paulson
Read previous installments: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Marius leaned on the railing of Niko’s airship, watching the dock workers as they clung to the spire below and untied the ropes that had tethered the ship. On the deck to either side of him, pirates hauled the ropes in and coiled them with impressive precision. The air sacs swelled, and the sails filled. The vessel slipped away gently into the night. Behind, the lights of the city gleamed like cloth-of-gold; ahead were the more scattered lights of the countryside, and beyond that a wide velvet-rich blackness that must be the sea.
Nobody had paid him any mind, once he understood to keep out of the way. The pirates rushed to and fro, climbing and hauling and shouting. Niko stood on the raised deck at the…stern?…of the ship like a veritable island of calm, only making gestures now and then, or speaking to a crew member who rushed off to convey his orders. He looked like a man who could pull off a scarlet justacorps coat – not flamboyant, but self-assured as Marius himself could only dream of being. Just watching the man made his blood quicken.
Marius watched, fascinated, until he realized he was trembling with cold. Now he understood the long coat and woolen tricorn hat, which had seemed above Niko’s station, for all that he wore them well. The crew seemed warm enough, moving about in shirtsleeves, but he himself, sitting still in only a long sleeveless waistcoat, was suffering in the chilly winds of their passage.
“Had enough of watching the captain?” a voice said in his ear.
Marius jumped.
The tall woman with the deep voice was leaning on the railing by his side, watching him with a knowing grin. Now that she wasn’t pointing a clockwork pistol at him, he noticed that her straight black hair, light brown skin, and the hoop earrings under her tricorn hat were all complemented by the shade of blue she had chosen for her dress, though the cut and muslin fabric were purely practical. Her broad shoulders strained at the fabric. Maybe he could offer to make some alterations, after he got to know her better…
She went on, “I don’t know what you are to him, and it ain’t none of my business besides. Just be careful, is all. The captain is a tease, but he’ll break your heart and never think twice about it. Seen it happen more than once.”
Marius frowned. “Why are you telling me this? You were ready to shoot me earlier.”
She shrugged, looking entirely unrepentant, which miffed him a little. “I saw the way you looked at him after he showed up.”
He looked at me that way too, Marius didn’t say.
“Anyhow, he gave orders as to where you was to be lodged. Follow me.”
Marius collected his bag and slung the coat over his arm once more. Vague images of a captain’s cabin, gleaned from stories and a sailor friend or two, flitted through his head. Would there be two bunks, or only one? And if only one, would he be expected to sleep on the floor, or…? What had Niko—the captain, he corrected himself—intended by asking him aboard?
And what signals had he conveyed by accepting?
She led him across the deck. “My name’s Gloriana, by the by. I’m the quartermaster on board.”
He shook himself mentally. “Marius, at your service.”
“Us sailors don’t say that. We’re at no-one’s service except our captain’s. And the first mate, and whoever else is above us…you see where this is going.”
Marius laughed, but he wondered. Where did he fit in aboard this airship? Below Niko, at the very least, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Back in his little shop, he was beholden to everyone who had ever handed him money. Was that better or worse than knowing exactly who was going to give you orders at all times? He couldn’t decide.
Gloriana lit an enclosed lantern and preceded him down a staircase so steep and narrow it was almost a ladder. Down below, she showed him into a dim, cavernous space full of hammocks. Some of them held snoring lumps.
“This one’s not assigned,” she said, setting one to swinging. It was in the centre of the space, surrounded by others; he could only hope that he would recognize the right one again later. Just below one end of the hammock, a half-height row of cubbyholes partially divided the space. “You’ll have one shelf for your things. I suppose you won’t need more than that.”
Marius looked around, his heart sinking. He ought not to have expected anything else, and yet…a small part of him had. Maybe a medium-sized part.
“No, no, this is fine,” he said quickly. “But…there’ll not be enough light to sew down here. Is there somewhere I can sit, out of the way, to work on the mending? And perchance somewhere I could leave the coat, where it will be safe?”
Gloriana considered. “There’s not much that’s out of the way, on an airship. I’ll have to think on it. But I’ll take you to his cabin and you can leave the coat there. Just don’t touch anything. Himself is very particular about his possessions.”
He crammed his bag into the cubbyhole nearest the hammock, then adjusted the scarlet coat on his arm once more and followed her down a narrow corridor of polished wood with brass trim. At the far end, she unlocked a door and raised her lantern high.
Niko’s cabin was a thing of beauty, all curved wood and mullion windows, an expensive-looking rug on the floor. Everything in it was tucked away neatly, books on shelves with tiny railings, a chair slotting perfectly under a built-in table.
There was only one bunk, he noted, though it was generously sized, and…was that a spider silk coverlet? The intricate embroidery that covered it—leaves and stems and flowers in symmetrical loops and twists, with birds among the branches—set off the rich magenta of the fabric to great effect. The lantern-light played over it, setting the fabric to shining, and as he moved his head, the colour shifted from magenta to gold—a feat only spider silk could attain.
He set the coat on the table absentmindedly, had drifted over to the bunk without realizing, and was lifting a hand to touch the coverlet when Gloriana said, “Ho, stop that!”
At the same time, boots sounded in the doorway. Gloriana let out a squeak, higher than Marius had realized she could go with an Adam’s apple like that.
Marius spun around.
There stood Niko, hands on his hips, looking more magnificent than ever—except for the scowl.
His voice was low, but the tension in it made Marius shiver. “What the devil do you think you’re doing?”
Gloriana cleared her throat. “Captain, it’s partly my fault. I let him in here to put that coat of yours someplace safe. Didn’t know he’d start poking around. Maybe you’ve got yourself an idiot this time.”
“That will suffice, Gloriana,” Niko said coolly. “Leave the lantern.”
“Yessir. Come on, then, Marius.” She jerked her head in a clear “get out of there!” gesture.
Marius tried to edge past Niko, but the captain put out a hand and halted him. In a moment the door was shut, with Gloriana outside, the lantern on the table, and Marius and Niko alone in the cabin.
Marius felt his blood quicken, a mixture of fear and desire. Niko was still doing a fine impression of a thundercloud, and he had pointed a pistol at Marius on the day they met. Yet Niko had been disoriented then, awakening from a dead faint to an unfamiliar room in a life that must have its share of danger. Surely he could not blame an airship pirate for that. Especially not an airship pirate of such fine taste and…form.
“I vow I wished only to admire your coverlet,” Marius blurted. “It’s the loveliest one I’ve ever seen. I do apologize,” he went on, collecting himself. “It was very wrong of me, and you ought not punish Gloriana for my indiscretion.”
Niko’s eyes narrowed. “You came in to look at the blanket,” he said slowly. His tone suggested that he might be wondering whether Gloriana was correct in her assessment.
“I came in to leave your justacorps, as Gloriana said. But…” Marius hesitated, but some part of him desperately wanted Niko to understand. “Beautiful fabrics are…the thing I love most in all the world. I love style too, because it’s part of being a tailor. But, ah, there’s a reason I accepted your offer to come along and meet the spider silk weavers.”
Something flickered in Niko’s eyes. Dare he hope it was disappointment? “Only one reason?” the pirate said. His tone was dry, but he held himself very still, his gaze on Marius’s face.
Marius took a cautious step forward, almost close enough to touch but not quite daring to, letting his gaze trail over Niko’s body instead. “No,” he breathed. “But I wasn’t sure if you…”
Niko didn’t move, didn’t give him any signal. “If I…?”
The uncertainty he had felt since Niko first walked into his shop, his own desire and the way Niko had seen it and toyed with it, and lastly Gloriana’s warning…all of it had been hammering upon his reserve, and he could hold it at bay no longer.
“Look, you left me to my own devices as soon as we came aboard, Gloriana told me I’m bunking in a room full of hammocks, and you’ve kept everything locked up tight behind those eyes of yours since the day you brought me that coat. Dammit, Niko, do you want me or not?” His voice broke and he closed his eyes.
He couldn’t see Niko’s expression, was afraid to look, but the pirate’s voice was gentle. “Why does it matter so much to you?” Niko’s lips must be very close to his ear, for he could feel warm breath on his skin. It made him shiver, but he kept his eyes closed.
It mattered because Niko was freedom, the chance to do whatever he wished with his needle, instead of waiting at the beck and call of every Master Poole who called at the shop. But that wasn’t fair to Niko…or, if he were being honest, to the reaction he’d had to Niko from the very beginning.
He dragged in a breath. “I upended my life because you asked. Why did you? Was it just to see if you could make me do it, only to cast me aside as soon as it was too late to turn back?”
“You’re afraid,” Niko said, his voice low.
“Of course I’m afraid. I’m at your mercy, pirate captain.”
He heard Niko take a step back, and opened his eyes to see the man looking…hurt?
Niko said softly, “I ordered Gloriana to give you a place with the crew so that you would have a choice, and continue to have a choice every single night of our journey.”
“Oh,” Marius managed.
“Yes, master tailor, I want you. But I want you to come to me of your own free will, not because you believe that’s the deal we struck for the coat, or because you feel trapped on my ship, and certainly not because you feel you must if I wish it.”
Marius wanted him now more than ever. But Niko was right. If they gave in now, the power imbalance between them would be locked in place, and whatever relationship they had would never be one of equals. “If…if I take a little time to find my footing aboard ship, to settle in and mend your coat, will you wait for me?”
Niko’s mouth twitched. “Patience is not something I have had a great deal of practice with, in my line of work.”
But Marius saw the answer in his eyes, and responded with a boldness he had not felt before. “Whereas mine is nothing but patience. Perhaps I can teach you.”
“Very well. But first, if you’ll allow me one moment of indulgence…”
Niko stepped forward again. This time his hands came to rest on Marius’s waist. Marius felt the strength behind their gentleness. It made him tremble, but no longer because of fear. Niko tipped his head forward, looked into Marius’s eyes, and waited.
Marius reached up, curled his fingers into Niko’s wiry hair, and drew Niko’s head down. Niko’s lips were soft, his mouth warm, the kiss everything Marius had imagined. He longed to drown in Niko, to forget uncertainty and worry and the shop he had left behind. He sought to deepen the kiss, but Niko drew back, his lips quirking into that half-smile that was like to drive Marius mad one day.
“Patience, master tailor. Remember?”
Marius strove to get his breathing under control. He knew his desire was written clear on his face, from the way Niko was gazing at him with something like satisfaction. Damn the man for being aggravating, arrogant, and impossibly sexy. “Of course,” he got out. “Until tomorrow, then.”
Niko’s eyes softened as he smiled. “Until tomorrow.”
To be continued…