Closed Between sand and stars

This request is currently closed and not accepting new users.
Ishaan was right. She was a single woman after all, and to show up that late to a man's house would for sure spur rumors in case she was spotted, despite her uniform and true intentions. Klaire didn't particularly care about rumors, but it could be an inconvenience for him. She didn't know what his love life was like, but it'd be bad whether he was a committed man or a single bachelor, and she wouldn't want to bring him any more trouble.

"Of course." She muttered, unintentionally taking another look at the house. Searching for evidence of another female's presence? It was none of Klaire's business. "Tea? Oh. My preference… Anything you have is fine." She leaned against the doorframe, watching him as he prepared the tea.

Now that the initial scare was gone, the wings didn't bother her that much. The side of his face - strong jaw, tanned skin, clean shave - was a much more interesting sight.
 
His long fingers moved with grace, reaching for the kettle, lighting the stove, pulling clay mugs from the shelf. It was a routine, something he'd done a million times within this space, his space. He could probably do it with his eyes closed.

She'd have to settle for chamomile; it was his favourite, and he certainly needed something to calm his nerves. Perhaps a slice of lemon to add to the flavour.

As he waited for the water to boil, Ishaan finally looked up to find her eyes on him. And not on his wings, but higher, on his face. He smiled, and then seemed to notice that she was still standing in the doorway. "I'm sorry, please, sit. Make yourself comfortable," he said, walking around the counter to the other side of the door, where the wooden table resided. He began to clear it from the clutter of stacked books, placing them on the nearby window sill, and removing the used mug from this morning. His rustling around filled the air, breaking the silence. Once he was done, Ishaan looked to her expectantly, making his way back towards the kitchen.

"I hope I'm not too forward Captain, but if we are to be working together for the next two months..." And that certainly wasn't confirmed yet, but he was curious. "Can I ask what your first name is?"
 
She was caught staring at him, how embarrassing and worst of all, unprofessional of her. The captain tried to act natural, as if she had only been looking in an ordinary way, not in an 'I'm alone with a handsome man I've just met' kind of way, which was a very unfamiliar situation for her.

Klaire followed him to the table, this time sitting down without hesitation. It was probably due to exaustion that she wasn't acting like her usual self and a chamomile tea certainly wouldn't help with it, but it was too late for her to ask if he had something with caffeine instead.

"I hope I'm not too forward Captain, but if we are to be working together for the next two months… Can I ask what your first name is?" The question came as a surprise. No one other than her immediate family called her by her first name, but of course it was how normal people outside the military usually referred to each other.

"It's… Klaire. With a 'K'." She said, fingers laced together resting on the wooden table. "But I do ask you to call me Capitan Byrn or just Byrn, Mr. Riasos."
 
"Klaire. With a K," Ishaan repeated quietly, almost to himself. As the kettle began to wail, he turned away, filling each mug with boiling water. A hint of a smile crossed his features. It was a pretty name and complimented her nicely - too bad she didn't want to use it.

Tucking the papers beneath his arm, the man picked up both mugs and walked back towards the table. "I will honor your request, if you honor mine. It's Ishaan." He took a seat in the other chair and placed her tea in front of her. "Now, I suppose I should start reading then. I don't want to waste too much of your time." He took a sip of his scalding tea and began, running his gaze over the neat letters.

The fuel in his lantern had begun to run out on the second last page, so he swapped it out, but otherwise, the man powered through until the very last line. Once he was finished, he looked up at Klaire. "I must admit, you're very thorough."
 
Klaire thanked him for the tea, blowing over the hot mug to cool it down so she could sip on it without burning her tongue.

Ishaan. She'd called him by his name once, though she did it without thinking and didn't mean for it to be an usual occurrence. But she didn't have a choice now, did she? Might as well add it to his massive list of demands.

Klaire wouldn't stare at him again, though she was very much aware of his presence. Her mug was half way empty, the room was quiet other than the sound of him flipping pages and without realizing it, she let her head rest over her crossed arms and her eyelids slide down, trapping her into a peaceful and very much needed slumber.
 
"...very thorough..." Ishaan trailed off, seeing that Klaire - erm, the Captain - had appeared to have dozed off. He stared at her figure, how she had crossed her arms onto the table and buried her head in the warmth - a makeshift pillow. It certainly wasn't the most comfortable position, which spoke to her extreme fatigue, or at least that's what he presumed.

"Captain?" He said quietly, leaning forward over the small table. When she didn't wake, he stood up and crouched beside her, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Byrn?" He repeated, this time slightly louder, giving her shoulder a gentle shake.
 
“... Byrn?”

Klaire jumped up, eyes wide as she realized what she’d done.

“I… How is it? Are you ready to sign it?” She asked, as if Ishaan hadn’t just woken her up from a nap. It seemed the amount of embarrassment she was capable of putting herself through within 24 hours was endless. Right now, she just wanted to get it over with so she could go back home and stuff her head in a pillow.
 
The wide eyes, the slight reddening of her cheeks despite the dim light, and above all, her persistence to the task at hand, well, it was rather endearing. Ishaan couldn't hide his smile, nor the low chuckle that rumbled through his chest. He stood from his crouch and took his seat, flipping to the last page of the document. "The officer ordered to check on the shop - do you have a good opinion of them?" He asked casually, choosing not to address her little sleeping spell, at least not yet. Business first.
 
He was laughing at her, and she couldn't blame him for it. Luckily for both of them, Ishaan decided not to address the absurdity of the situation, instead focusing on the business they had to sort out.

"Officer Willow is… The worst at his job. The man can't fire a weapon to save his life." Klaire looked up at Ishaan, waiting for his reaction while holding back an entertained smile. "He's a terrible officer, but a great man. Responsible, reliable… You'll find your store just as you left it. Perhaps even more organized, if you authorize him to catalog your books for you."
 
Ishaan's face fell; eyebrows furrowed, lips parted slightly, the concern clearly evident on his features. Of course, Klaire continued, her joke revealing itself and allowing the man to nearly let out an audible sigh of relief. He shook his head and chuckled quietly. "You nearly got me there..." He trailed off, pausing for a couple seconds before continuing. "Reorganization is not necessary though. Actually, I'll buy him a round of beers if he doesn't touch anything."

Flipping through the pages once more, double checking that he didn't have any more unanswered questions, the man finally reached for one of his pens. He held it loosely in his hand, hovering over the blank space where his signature belonged. With another final moment of contemplation, he signed his name. "I look forward to working with you, Captain."
 
It was quite clear by Ishaan's list of demands that he cared deeply about Cilma's shop, but nothing made it more obvious than his reaction to what Klaire had said.

"Willow will appreciate it." She said, heart tight inside her chest while he took another look through the pages of the document she'd worked so hard on. The hours she'd devoted to it paid off, and Klaire couldn't help but smile widely as she watched him sign his name. "You won't regret it. And thank you mister- Ishaan. You're a lifesaver."

The captain stood up, offering a final handshake to seal the deal.

"See you tomorrow at 10."
 
With a final handshake, the Captain was gone, leaving Ishaan with nothing but her parting words, running over and over in his mind. Tomorrow at ten, tomorrow at ten. His life would change; he knew that much, but precisely to what magnitude, well that would remain a mystery.

He didn't sleep much that night. No, there was simply too much to do. Packing took some time, though Ishaan wasn't overly concerned about trivial possessions such as clothes or toiletries. He threw in some essential books, his own cartography supplies, and a couple smaller personal belongings if space allowed. What was truly challenging was sitting down at his table in the dead of night, and writing letters to the friends he was leaving behind. Writing, don't worry about me, I'll be back in two months , and asking certain people to keep an eye on his home, on his plants, on the shop.

When that was all taken care of, he slept, or at least tried to. Racing thoughts kept him awake, and once he realized that he'd forgotten to ask Klair about what the mission was, where they were going, well, all hope for sleep was lost.

At the crack of dawn, he dragged himself out of bed, dressed in his finest, and left his home, sealing the door behind him. Two months and he'd be back. A changed man, but a rich man. He'd be back.

After distributing his letters, Ishaan walked to the shop and did the very same thing that he'd done at home. He stuffed various necessary supplies into the crevices of his bag, double and triple checked that everything was in order, and left a handwritten note plastered to the front door. Another note, addressed to Officer Willow, was left inside, outlining a couple (truly, just a couple) requests.

The sun was up now, shining bright, highlighting the nearly cloudless sky - a perfect day to set sail. As he drew closer to the harbour, the salty scent of the sea filled his senses, reminding him of his childhood. A small smile lifted the edges of his lips as he arrived, taking in the glorious ships that had anchored. Digging into the pocket on his waistcoat, the man pulled out his watch and checked the time. Good, he was early, and still had time for breakfast. The nearby bakery called his name, enticing him with the scent of warm bread and pastries, as well as the promise of hot coffee. He sure as hell needed it.
 
Klaire arrived early at the harbor. She was captain after all, and had to make sure everything was in order for the long journey ahead of the Dragonfly and her crew. The quartermaster and master gunner approached her with reports about the crew, the supplies and the fire power, and after checking everything one last time the ship was ready to set sail. The only thing missing was the navigator.

Her palms were sweaty, and as much as she didn’t like to admit it, Klaire was afraid. Afraid she’d fail or worse, get her entire crew killed. She made a promise to Ishaan, a promise she intended to keep, but as much as she tried to ignore the facts, the undeniable truth was that his safety wasn’t entirely up to her. Perhaps making such a promise had been a huge mistake.

“Captain!” A crewmate called, entering her office. “The vice admiral is here to see you.” She stood up immediately, watching as the officer stepped aside, making way for an older man to walk in.

His head was covered in hair unlike most men his age, but the gray on the sides as well as on his groomed beard denounced his experience. Dark green wings hung from his back, just as stiff as Klaire’s, one of them being bent in an unnatural way. Just like the scars on his face and hands, it was a testament to his years of service.

“Klaire.” He opened up a smile, and so did the girl, running to his arms.

“Uncle!” After a tight hug, the vice admiral placed a kiss on his niece’s forehead, holding her face in his hands.

“I’m so proud of you, captain.” There was a hint of sorrow in his voice, and after a moment of hesitation, he added: “Are you really sure about this?” Klaire pushed back.

“I’m not having this conversation again. Not now.” The captain said firmly, and with a sigh, he accepted defeat.

“Alright. Tell me, did you have breakfast yet?” He asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulder while they left the ship together.




Vice admiral Byrn walked on a limp to the bakery accompanied by his niece, no longer at close proximity with one another. Military officers were expected to present themselves a certain way, and public displays of affection, despite not being prohibited, were highly discouraged. She smiled when her eyes spotted a pair of familiar wings ahead, a smile her uncle very much noticed.

“A friend of yours?” He spoke quietly, to which Klaire rolled her eyes.

“He’s the reason why this expedition will be successful. You’ll see.”
 
Bread, rolls, and sweet pastries stuffed with fruit and jams lined the counter, immediately drawing Ishaan's undivided attention. As he stood in line, dark eyes browsing and shifting through the selection, the man found himself oddly undecided. The only definite was coffee. The rest... well, would sweet rolls and apricot jam be available over the next two months? Where were they going? Should he stock up? Gods, he sure wished he had asked Klaire last night.

In the end, he decided to be safe rather than sorry. So he bought half a dozen sweet rolls, which the baker's wife had neatly tucked into a handwoven basket (which he also had to pay for as there was no space in his bag, and he simply couldn't stuff them in his pockets). As he turned to exit the small bakery, his eyes landed on her, Klaire, looking as lovely as ever. Beside her, stood an imposing, and equally as stiff figure, his uniform decorated to the extreme. Ishaan offered them a smile as he approached, placing his bag on the ground, and shifting the basket to his forearm. With a now free hand, he first offered it to Klaire, and then the man beside her. "Good morning, Captain Byrn," he said with a slight nod, dark eyes twinkling down at her. "Did you sleep alright?"

"My apologies, my name is Ishaan Riasmos. Captain Byrn hired me, quite recently, as a navigator," he added, holding out his hand to the man.
 
The vice admiral raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything to his niece's comment about the poor young man with the rotten wings. He could no longer fly either, but he was an old rag, who'd put his wings to good use during his youth. It was a shame to see a fairy at that early stage of life who likely couldn't get his feet off the ground.

Klaire was no longer paying attention to her uncle, her eyes set on Ishaan. She attributed the skipped beat of her heart to the enthusiasm about their trip, it had nothing to do with the handshake.

"I did, yes." Her face burned with embarrassment over the memory of their previous night. Of course that was a lie, she'd slept no longer than a couple hours but he didn't need to know that.

"Vice Admiral Byrn." The man by Klaire's side said, taking Ishaan's hand and shaking it firmly. Klaire suddenly felt like a teenager again, having the men in her life try and intimidate any other who came close to her. "I wonder what your qualifications are? The fleet has plenty of competent navigators."

"None of the navigators graduated by the academy have as much knowledge of the night sky than Ish- Mr. Riasos has." Klaire said, jumping in his defense. "He's dedicated his entire life to study the stars, wrote dozens of maps and because of him we won't get lost in the desert."

Klaire wasn't sure if what she said was true - she knew it was the case for Mr. Cilma. She could do nothing but hope his apprentice was up to par but for some reason she couldn't pinpoint, she had faith in him.
 
A calloused hand met his much softer one, the handshake firm, bordering on painful. Ishaan gave away nothing, merely blinking and nodding his head in acknowledgement. "It's a pleasure Vice Admiral."

And so the interrogation began. Judging from the admiral's last name, he was her father, or at the very least, family. So it made sense; the grip, the suspicious look in his eye, the questioning. Ishaan didn't blame him, but he did find him slightly intimidating. As Klaire jumped in, defending his knowledge and her decision, Ishaan couldn't help as the corners of his lips turned upward, his dark eyes meeting hers, even for just a moment. He hoped he expressed the gratitude subtly.

Once she stopped, the man swallowed hard, and forced himself to meet the admiral's gaze, feigning confidence. "I assure you Vice Admiral Byrn, I will not let you, or your da- ehm, Captain Byrn down. I graduated top of my class and have spent most of my life learning under the best in Costa Duba. I will get her and the crew back home safely."

Back home, back from the desert. Hell, what could they be searching for in the most desolate places in their realm? Could it be...?
 
Just when the thought crossed her mind, Ishaan's eyes caught hers. He stood his ground telling the Vice Admiral - and Klaire as well, because she had no idea about any of this - all his qualifications for the job. The Vice admiral seemed satisfied with his answer, but Klaire wasn't happy about how both men spoke as if she was under his care, not the other way around.

"We're gonna grab a bite, the quartermaster can show you your cabin if you want to head to the ship already." Klaire said, not wanting to extend that conversation.

"Or you could join us." The vice admiral added, surprising his niece not only by the invitation, but by the raised corner of his lips. If this was another attempt at an interrogation, Klaire wasn't having it.

"I'm sure he wants to get settled, Vice Admiral. We'll be leaving soon." The brunette tried to tug on her uncle's arm to pull him forward, but his feet didn't move.

"Nonsense, Klaire! There's plenty of time, and you should let the boy speak for himself." The two Byrns stared at Ishaan, waiting for his answer. Klaire tried to apologize through her eyes, hoping he'd get both of them out of this uncomfortable situation.
 
Thoughts of the desert would have to wait.

His eyes shifted between the two as they exchanged words; polite words, but not without their hidden meanings. There was a second conversation occurring, one being conveyed through body language and purposeful glances, and more importantly, one that Ishaan wasn't privy to. Yet, he found himself in the middle of this tug-of-war, unsure of how to proceed. Stuck between the Captain - his Captain - and the Vice Admiral.

The fae shifted his weight and chuckled lightly beneath his breath as two pairs of eyes stared at him expectantly. "I'd love to join you two. I actually bought some pastries-", he lifted the basket slightly, "- I wouldn't mind some company finishing them off. I hope you don't mind apricot." Ishaan paused, looking between the two. "I'll, erm, wait for you outside. Excuse me." He assumed they'd like to purchase their own drinks or breads for the cast off, or even for the next couple of days. That had been his intention with his own purchase, but hell, this seemed like an appropriate opportunity to share the wealth and garner some positive favour. With a slight nod of his head, Ishaan reached for his bag and passed by the pair, murmuring apologies as he maneuvered his way past those lined up behind them.
 
Klaire tried to get him a way out but he wouldn't take it. Why didn't he take it?

"Seems like a good kid." The vice admiral said after Ishaan left. "How long have you known him?" Less than 24h wasn't a good answer, so Klaire chose to work her way around it.

"I've been studying his work for a while." It was a blatant lie, but so long as she spoke as if Mr. Cilma and Ishaan were the same person, there'd be enough truth to it not to raise any suspicion. They stood in line quietly for a moment, and Klaire wished things had stayed that way.

"You're not… That's only a work thing, right?" The vice admiral asked, causing Klaire's eyes to widen.

"Of course it's just a work thing! What kind of captain do you think I am?!" Despite being shocked by the insinuation, Klaire tried to keep her voice low so as to not get anyone at the bakery interested in their conversation.

"I was just making sure, because it's not a good idea-"

"Of course it's not a good idea! Can you please just-" She breathed in. "Don't say anything. Quiet."

And he obeyed. Klaire and her uncle walked up to the table outside where Ishaan waited for them, carrying their own pastries and drinks.

"Sorry, the line was long." Klaire said when they arrived, trying to hide her discomfort. Vice Admiral Byrn on the other hand seemed to have loosen up after the answer he got from his niece. Perhaps he wouldn't have to worry about Ishaan.

"I just realized there might have been some confusion. Captain Byrn is my niece, people assume I'm her father all the time." He explained with a smile. "Her father's Admiral Byrn, my brother. You're lucky you didn't run into him!"
 
Seated outside in the crisp morning air, a fresh mug of hot liquid in his hand, the smell of salt, bread, and spring overwhelming his senses... so why did dread and regret pool in his stomach? Did this feeling stem from the impending danger he'd agreed to participate in for two long months, or the fact that he'd agreed to have breakfast with Klaire and her Vice Admiral father? As the pair approached, his stomach lurched, causing the man to take a slow sip of the steaming coffee. Seemed like the cause for his nerves, at least this very second, was the latter. Remember. Gaining positive favour. He forced a smile onto his face and looked up at the two Byrns.

The two Byrns, who were in fact, not father and daughter. "Oh, and why's that?" Ishaan took the bait willingly at this point - he hardly knew them, especially the Vice Admiral, and wasn't willing to push the boundaries with clever wit.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top