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Title: Beyond the Sea (1/2)
Author:

namarie120
Type: FPS
Pairing: Diego Alatriste / Will Turner
Rating: NC-17
Warning: none
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, created for entertainment and enjoyment only. We don’t own the characters or the actors portraying them.
Feedback: would be wonderful
Beta:

sileya
Summary: The banner says it all
A/N: This was supposed to be a short little one-shot inspired by

dreamerswings42’s gorgeous manip until the angst bunnies bit us. (It's all

tularia's fault.) So instead, it's a long, complicated two-shot.
A/N2: Happy birthday,

widdershin!

~~~

Beyond the sea, beyond the sea,
My heart is gone, far, far from me;
And ever on its track will flee
My thoughts, my dreams, beyond the sea.

Beyond the sea, beyond the sea,
The swallow wanders fast and free:
Oh, happy bird! were I like thee,
I, too, would fly beyond the sea.

Beyond the sea, beyond the sea,
Are kindly hearts and social glee:
But here for me they may not be;
My heart is gone beyond the sea.

– Thomas Love Peacock, 1831

~~~

Some days, I still can’t believe the combination of misfortune and good luck that brought me to my current situation. The Rosa Ana met her fate off the rocky shores of Cuba, sinking with all aboard, a hundred men and boys lost to the sea. I have never been one to believe in legends, until she appeared.

The Flying Dutchman. The most feared and revered ship on the seas, at least among superstitious sailors. A line tossed overboard allowed me to climb to the deck, not sure what to expect. I had heard tales of monstrous creatures, deformed by the sea and the passage of time, but that was not what I found. No, I found the most beautiful man I had ever laid eyes upon. And that man, Captain Turner, offered me a choice. Death and transport to the other side or life aboard the Dutchman, a part of his crew.

I hesitated only a second before agreeing to join the crew, not because I feared death, but because I found myself fascinated by the man who gave me the choice. He appeared to be younger than me, no more than thirty, but I understood that looks, in this case, were probably quite deceiving. He could have been aboard that ship for centuries for all I knew. The slightly haunted look in his eyes suggested it had been long enough, and I found myself wanting to offer him the same surcease he offered the dead.

~~~

The rocks and the sea had taken their toll on the crew of the luckless Rosa Ana, and by the time the Dutchman reached her side only one man remained alive to be offered the choice I gave to every man who boarded my ship. This man, though, was different than most who trembled in fear or cowered in terror before me. He met my gaze without flinching, his grey-green eyes as deep and compelling as the sea itself.

I had offered the choice to many men in the fifty years or more I had captained the Dutchman, but this was the first I found myself hoping would accept my offer to join the crew. Something in his demeanor, in the cool way he considered the offer, in the understanding with which he met my eyes awoke something inside that I thought had died forty years before, along with Elizabeth and my unborn child.

That he did accept surprised me as much as it pleased me, for I could tell this man did not fear death. Perhaps he thought it would be an exciting adventure to crew the Dutchman and sail the seas for a hundred years. I could not tell him or any of the men who crossed my deck otherwise – how quickly excitement decayed into weariness, how soon the deathless long for the release from loneliness death would bring. For the chance to be reunited with those they have loved and lost. No, I could not tell him that.

"William Turner," I said instead, offering him my hand. "Welcome to my crew."

~~~

"Diego Alatriste," I replied, taking the outstretched hand. "Thank you for rescuing me."

An odd look crossed his face, one I was at a loss to explain. It didn't matter, though. There would be time to learn his secrets as time passed. I doubted anyone had many secrets on this ship after a time.

I settled in quickly to the routine of the ship, finding my place among the crew, watching her captain every chance I got, coming to respect him more with each passing day, with each ship we succored. All around me, I saw men turning to each other for comfort, but the Captain seemed always to be alone. Six months passed that way before I worked up my nerve to approach him on more than just ship's business.

I bided my time until I could speak to him alone. Seeing him alone at the helm, I wandered in that direction, leaning casually – I hoped – against the rail. "A penny for your thoughts, Capitán."

~~~

I looked up from my thoughts of the man who had begun to fill the empty place my heart should be to the man himself, lounging with powerful grace on the forward rail. Diego had proven himself quickly to be an able sailor, a more than welcome addition to the crew. The others had recognized at once his unspoken air of command, more than one of them calling him "Captain Alatriste" behind his back, though the sobriquet was given with affectionate respect. Yet he was always deferential to my authority, never overstepping whatever duties I assigned to him.

"My thoughts aren't worth even a ha'penny," I assured him. I could certainly not tell him that I had been imagining what it would feel like to take him in my arms, to feel his lean body mold itself to mine, to feel our lips meet. I had never seen him with any of the other men, taking what warmth they could from each other in the cold watches of the night. He did not seem to need that comfort, and I envied him that strength. For my part, I had begun to fear I would never know warmth again.

~~~

He had little regard for his own worth, I realized sadly, wondering who had broken him this way. His thoughts were worth far more than the penny I had offered, certainly more than the ha'penny he tried to claim was more valuable, but I knew not how to tell him that. Instead, I tried another tack. "Tell me a story then," I suggested, casting around mentally for a tale he might be willing to tell. "The ship," I seized upon. "I had heard tales, legends, and yet I find the reality very different indeed."

The story he told me bordered on the fantastic at first, of creatures hideous beyond imagining, of treachery and loss and love. I listened, rapt, as he talked of old adventures, of men he had once known and fought beside, of tyranny he had helped to end. He spoke of that horrible final moment, facing his ship's late captain, fearing for the life of his beloved, his wife, of the pain that came so suddenly and unexpectedly, of fighting not to give in. He spoke, too, of his friend, another Captain, who had saved his life and condemned him to this one all at the same time. He claimed still not to understand that choice, but I thought I did. Of all those who inhabited his tale, he alone had the strength of character to keep the promise and fulfill the task the ship had been assigned.

I tried to peek beneath the edge of the loose shirt he wore, hoping for a glimpse of the scar that surely bisected it where his father had carved out his heart and made him captain of the ship, but the wind was not my friend, pushing the material closed rather than open as we sat there. His voice trailed off when he reached the point in the tale where he accepted his part in this bargain, the East India Trading Company dispatched, the pirates free to roam the seas again, and his hand played over the single gold band around his finger. I wanted to ask if she waited for him still, for he had not told me then how many years he had been Captain, even though the answer to my question would surely shatter the hopes that had brought me to his side in the first place. I held back, though, something in his closed expression telling me that such topics were not open for discussion. With a sigh, I waited, hoping he would volunteer some piece of information that would steer the conversation back into safer waters.

~~~

I meant to tell him only of the ship, to expand on the legends that anyone who'd sailed the seas had heard, but of course I couldn't tell the legends without awakening memories of those who had played their parts, for good or evil, in the reality only I and my father now knew the truth of. The cold wind puckered the skin around the scar I still bore; rather than rubbing it, a useless habit since nothing eased the dull ache beneath the knotted skin, I twisted the ring I still wore, reminder of the only two days I spent with my wife before she was lost to me.

I saw Diego' eyes follow my motions, saw the question he was too circumspect to ask. Rather than dwell on thoughts of Elizabeth, I told him instead of Davy Jones, how in his love for Calypso he agreed to captain the Dutchman as it ferried the souls of those killed at sea to the next life, of the bargain he struck with her – immortality in exchange for only being able to set foot on land for one day every ten years. How he had remained faithful to her until she had failed to meet him on that day, whereupon he had carved his heart from his chest and locked it away and turned to enslaving the living instead. Of how the only way to destroy him was to thrust a knife into his heart. Of how even though Davy Jones was gone, the Dutchman must still have a captain.

Diego's eyes fell again to the ring on my finger, his sea-colored eyes hooded, but he said nothing. Even so, I sensed he understood more than I had told him. I judged the Spaniard had endured his own losses and knew when there were no words left to be said.

~~~

His words, the story he told when he had finished with his own tale, explained much of how the Dutchman had gained her fearsome reputation, but it told me nothing of the rest of his story. He spoke of Calypso's infidelity as he played with the ring that adorned his finger. It made me wonder if he, too, had known that sort of betrayal. If he had, he had clearly dealt with it better than Jones had, better than I had when Maria betrayed me with the king. I had cast her off until it was too late to do anything but hold her as she died in my arms. I wondered what Captain Turner's Elizabeth had done to betray him, but since the last thing I wanted to talk about was my own memories, I did not ask him for more of his.

"A sad tale," I said simply, for no matter which part of the story he thought of as he stared at the band, the statement applied. I sensed he wanted to be alone, but I couldn't make myself leave, couldn't make myself believe that he needed less comfort than the rest of us who spent our days seeking the dead at sea and our nights remembering those we had loved and lost.

His only reply was a nod before he rose and left me where I was sitting, disappearing into his cabin, leaving me alone on deck. Six months ago, I would have worried, but I had learned enough of the odd world we inhabited now to understand that while we waited for another crew to ferry, the ship needed no direction for it did not exist in the world of the living. Only when we were called to seek out the dead did we need someone at the helm, and the Captain always knew when such an event occurred.

~~~

Diego's quiet acknowledgment of my grief moved me more than any words of sympathy or empty platitudes. What was it about this man that called to me so? I could not even trust myself to reply – with a curt nod, I fled to my cabin, where I stood with my back against the closed door as if I feared he might try to follow me into my quarters. Or did I hope for it? The attraction I felt disturbed me – frightened me, if I were honest with myself. Since losing Elizabeth, I had never been tempted to turn to another. I had remained faithful to her in thought and in body through all these years. What would happen if I broke that faith now? Would I, like Davy Jones before me, lose my humanity, turning into a monster as he had? Could I take that chance? Or was I doomed to spend the rest of eternity alone, I and the crew that shared my fate?

I wondered whether my father knew the answer to my questions, but it felt like a betrayal of Elizabeth even to consider asking him. There was only one being I knew who could answer with surety, one being who would understand the doubts that wracked me.

Calypso.

I didn't know if she could hear me, if she would answer me if she did, but the words were welling out before I could hold them back. "Calypso," I called softly. "Tia Dalma... You loved Jones once, enough to offer him immortality to share with you. My love didn't have that choice. I lost her, and I have mourned her... Is there no solace for me? Am I fated always to sail alone, until loneliness and bitterness turn me into the kind of monster Jones became? Elizabeth's love kept me safe while she lived... how long must I wait before I can move on?"

Nothing but the soft lap of the waves against the hull answered me.

~~~

When the captain left me, I stayed where I was for a long time, pondering what I had learned about him that evening, realizing that his revelations raised more questions than they answered, but asking him for those answers seemed unwise and unlikely to gain me any ground, either in befriending or in seducing the man. I could not even say how long I sat there before movement on the deck drew my attention. The first mate, checking the lines, but far more importantly, the captain's father.

Perhaps he would tell me what the captain would not. Rising from my seat, I joined him on deck, assisting in recoiling the lines. "I can't help but notice Captain Turner spends most of his time alone," I commented as casually as I could.

"He carries a heavy burden," Bootstrap replied calmly. "His choices determine not only his own fate but the fate of the entire crew. He would go to great lengths not to abuse that trust."

"Does she wait for him still, that he must hold himself so aloof?"

Bootstrap's face darkened. "Not on any shores his feet can touch," he told me sadly. "She died in childbirth, after his second visit, the child with her. He learned the news from his first son who barely knew him and found himself an orphan at her death. He told Will that he'd buried the chest that holds his heart where it would be safe and that he didn't want to see his father again. He has not returned to shore since, spending his days with his task and his nights with his grief. You would do well not to disturb him, Alatriste. Remember that his fate is the fate of us all."

I had to remind myself that Bootstrap had suffered under Jones's tyranny, that he knew the horrors of losing himself in the forced enslavement Captain Turner had described to me. I was not so sure I shared his opinion of the way forward, though. How long could any man, even one as admirable as the captain, live with that kind of grief and loneliness before he succumbed to the same madness that took Jones in the end? It seemed to me the captain had suffered alone long enough.

I spent several days dutifully considering the first mate's cautions, observing everything around me, studying the captain more openly, even asking others on the crew what they knew of his past. They all agreed with Mr. Turner's assessment of the situation, but it still felt wrong to me, somehow. The original bargain had been struck in love, to further love, not to separate lovers. With that in mind, I bided my time until I could find him alone again.

It was easy to linger on deck as the others went below, the newest group of souls safely delivered to their rest. As always, the Captain stayed at the helm long after the others were gone. Taking a deep breath, I walked up behind him. "How long would she want you to suffer alone?"

The question startled him, I could tell, maybe angered him as well, but I held my ground. I had no choice if I wanted any chance with him at all.

~~~

Diego's question, so close to the ones I had been asking myself, had only one answer. "She wouldn't have wanted it at all. And she wouldn't have hesitated to tell me so, either." I couldn't hold back a small smile at the thought – Elizabeth had never been shy about speaking her mind. The smile faded as I glanced back at the Spaniard. "That doesn't mean I can do anything to change it."

His hand reached up to tuck a windblown strand of hair beneath the bandanna I wore to restrain it. "Why, then?"

His touch – the first since I had shaken his hand on welcoming him to the crew – sent a frisson of awareness coursing through me, as if the wind had suddenly changed direction. I stepped back, keeping the barrier of the wheel between us. "I saw what breaking his vow did to Jones, the monster he became because of it. And not only him, but the crew and the survivors he damned to his own torments. I cannot take that risk."

~~~

It seemed the captain labored under the same assumptions as everyone else on the ship, but I could not accept that interpretation. "You told me yourself that Jones broke his vow because Calypso was unfaithful, and so he cut himself off from her, from her love. He became a monster because he stopped loving. You fear to lose your humanity, yet you seem to be making the same mistake," I told him softly, placing my hand over his on the wheel. "How long can you go on alone before your loss and grief destroy you as surely as they destroyed Jones?"

There. I had said it. I had rolled the dice. Now it was up to him to respond. I would either find myself summarily thrown off the ship or I would, I hoped, find myself with a lover to ease the long nights. The choice was his.

~~~

The hand covering mine was large and calloused, so different from Elizabeth's soft fingers, yet the heat spreading through me at the touch was just as compelling. I looked up from where our skin met to search Diego's eyes, the grey-green depths not cold like the sea but warm, inviting, knowing. He was right. My guilt kept me clinging to my grief, as if by suffering I could atone for Elizabeth's pregnancy and for not being there when she needed me most. As if my pain were my last connection with her and giving it up would cut the final ties to my love, my life. My humanity. I turned my hand 'til my palm met his, our fingers tightening the clasp. His eyes never left mine, and in their depths was all the assurance I needed. This man would never break faith. Holding his gaze as my lifeline, I leaned forward until only the wheel separated us and I could feel his breath warming my lips.

"Show me," I commanded him. "Remind me what it is to feel alive."

~~~

I watched the expressions that crossed his face, watched the grief, the guilt heighten then fade from his dark eyes. His hand turned beneath mine, welcoming my touch finally instead of merely tolerating it and my heart leapt in my chest with the hope that he would accept my words and my offer, as well. His body tilted toward mine, beckoning to me, until I could feel his order against my skin.

I angled my head to slide my lips beneath his, offering him my mouth and with it, my fidelity, my loyalty, my body, and my love. It should have been more complicated than that – I hardly knew the man; we had exchanged so little conversation outside the orders he gave to the crew – yet I knew all I needed to know. I had seen more than enough in six months to willingly give myself over to his care. Our lips brushed tentatively at first, each of us testing the waters to see how we would fit together. Then his mouth grew more confident and I surrendered to him, my lips parting, my breath rushing out in a gasp as I, too, remembered what it felt like to be alive.

~~~

Given what I had observed of Alatriste during the months he had served on the Dutchman, I had expected him to take control of the kiss. But while he was quick to mate his lips to mine, he stood motionless, letting me guide the soft brush of our moist flesh. With each taste, the warmth spread within me, making me realize how cold I had been before his challenge awakened me. Angling my head to increase the contact, my tongue slid out to trace his thin upper lip beneath the soft moustache. His mouth opened to mine immediately and I delved inside, seeking more of his heat, more of the strength that matched my own, yet demanded nothing and offered everything.

The wheel bucked in my inattentive hand, calling me to my senses. Drawing back slightly, I caught my breath and squeezed the hand still wrapped around mine. "Come below," I said softly.

~~~

"Come below."

He was my captain – the words should have been a command, but there was nothing of an order in them, reminding me, as if I needed it, that he did not make a habit of using his station this way. I nodded and stepped back, away from the wheel that had separated us. I had no illusions as to what the invitation included. If I followed him below, into his cabin, I would be offering myself to him in every way possible, but I had already taken that step, in my mind if not in reality. All that remained was to make concrete what had been understood. My body quickened at the idea, the heat of the one kiss we had already shared chasing away the lingering mist of our lives on the Dutchman. If the simplicity of his lips covering mine, his tongue probing my mouth, could do so much, what would the union of our bodies bring? I shivered in anticipation at the thought.

"Lead the way, Captain."

~~~

Perhaps I should have freed his hand, but I needed that contact, as if the warmth rekindling within me would die out without his touch. If the crew noticed, they said nothing. They would need to get used to seeing us together, if this grew into more than a single encounter, as I hoped it would. As soon as the cabin door was secured behind us, I pressed him against it, my hands burrowing between the panels of his shirt to reach his strong chest as I claimed his lips in a fevered kiss. Now that I knew he welcomed this as much as I needed it, I could not restrain myself. I wanted to touch him, taste him, feel his body against mine, everywhere, and I wanted it now.

He did not resist me, pulling the tails of his shirt free from his breeches and working a hand between us to part the buttons until it fell open, granting me my first sight of lean muscle coated with a light dusting of dark hair, his nipples already peaked in arousal. I raised a hand to roll one between my fingers as the other hand wove into the hair at the base of his skull, pulling him even deeper into the kiss. A hunger I had refused to acknowledge for two score years drove me, and only he could satisfy it.

~~~

He pinned me against the door as soon as we entered his cabin, his hands flying over me with a possessiveness that fired my blood, and so I eagerly assisted my disrobing. I wanted to reach for his shirt as well, but some sense of propriety held me back. He had not used his position in any way to bring me here, yet I remained aware that he was my captain, and so while I did everything I could to encourage his attentions to me, leaning into his kiss, clinging to him with all the passion his lips inspired, I did not press any advances of my own.

He did not seem to notice, one of his hands cradling my skull to tilt my head deeper into his kiss as the other wandered my chest, finding its way to my sensitive nipples. I arched into the touch, a moan of pleasure escaping from my mouth into his, as he lavished on me a caress I had never been able to resist. I rocked my hips against him, letting him feel my arousal, seeking evidence of his in return.

~~~

Diego was as responsive to my actions as I could have wished, though he did nothing to initiate any in turn, a failing I was beginning to become displeased with. Pulling away from the intoxication of his kiss, I let my hand follow the curve of his spine down his back, cupping his buttocks and grinding him against me until both of us were gasping like drowning men.

"Bed," I ordered, tearing off my jacket and working the laces of my tunic as I crossed the cabin floor to my bunk. Before I had reached it, Diego was there, dropping his shirt to the floor and pulling off his worn boots.

"Let me, Captain," his quiet voice insisted, stilling my hands and replacing them with his own. Releasing the knot which had stymied me, he slid his palms underneath my shirt and eased it over my head, taking the bandanna that restrained my hair with it. He combed a hand through the dark locks, smoothing them back from my face, before his agile fingers turned to my breeches, tracing the waistband and dipping teasingly below it, but not trespassing any farther than his fingertips could reach. His mutable eyes, storm-dark now with passion, met mine for a moment, as if asking silent permission to proceed.

I dipped my chin slightly, unable to break away from his gaze. With a small rise of his lip that might have been a smile, he leaned forward, his broad moustache tickling my stomach as he pressed a string of moist kisses up my abdomen.

~~~

His chest was as smooth as I had imagined it, only a thin line of hair bisecting his belly and disappearing into his breeches. It was a lure I could not resist, particularly not when the slight tilt of his head seemed to encourage my attentions. Slowly, I explored the hard muscles, learning the texture and scent of his skin, the curve of his chest as it swelled toward broad shoulders that had lost none of their strength since he left the forge. I lingered over the raised scar that marred the smooth skin, the only blemish I had yet seen on him. It was a testament to his fortitude that the implications of the mark had not broken him these fifty years, and it seemed apt that I pay homage to it now.

Glancing up at his face again, I saw that his eyes had closed, cutting me off from any indication of what he was feeling beyond the obvious physical reaction of the taut nipples and swelling cock that I could feel against my chest as I sat on his bed, his legs straddling mine. "Tell me how best to serve you," I requested, wanting to do for him whatever would best restore him to life.

~~~

The soft glide of his lips over the scar that forever marked what I had become nearly undid me. No one but Elizabeth had ever touched me there, and I squeezed my lashes closed to hold back the tears that threatened to unman me. How could I feel such powerful emotion when my heart no longer beat in my chest?

I might have succeeded in controlling my tears, but Diego must have read something in my expression that made him pause. He shifted until he sat on the edge of the bunk, taking me with him, one knee on each side of his hips, our groins never breaking contact. I could tell that beneath his breeches he was as hard as I was, but still he made no further move than to ask how he could serve me.

That this strong man would defer to my leadership was a heady aphrodisiac, but I did not want a passive bed partner. Bending forward to mouth at the strong tendons that defined his neck, intent to learn his body as he had just explored mine, I dragged my cock against his, the spark that jumped between us unmuted by the layers of cloth still separating us. "Touch me," I groaned as I sucked his Adam's apple into my mouth, steadying myself with one hand splayed over the small of his back as the other roved every part of him I could reach.

~~~

The captain's words released me from most of the constraints on my actions. He had not dictated to me, after all, instead making a simple, broad request. My hands slid lower, curving around his buttocks as we ground together, his mouth on my body that of a lover, not a conqueror, and I melted into that touch, sinking back onto the bunk, bringing him with me so he lay atop me as we strained together toward release. He had not known the touch of another since the last time he saw his wife forty years ago, and I had been alone since Maria died easily two years ago now. Neither of us, I thought, would last long, but I fully intended for him to find joy before I did.

Rolling to the side, though keeping our legs entwined, I slid a hand between us, feeling for the fastenings on his breeches. They opened easily enough, allowing me access finally to his hard length, which jumped eagerly into my palm. I stroked him firmly, guessing he would have no patience for a tender touch after so long alone. The hot flesh sparked life within me, and I glanced up again at my captain to see if the same warmth had renewed in him.

~~~

Diego's touch, bold and assured, was fanning the heat between us into a raging fire to match any I once knew at my forge; but I would not let the flames consume me alone. Tearing open his breeches, I pulled them roughly down his lean flanks, baring his cock to my touch. The steely column filled my hand like the raw steel of a sword. I shifted in his clasp until our bodies molded to each other, naked skin sliding together, until the molten liquid flowing through me threatened to melt through my flesh if it could not find release. Throwing a leg over his hip to pull him even closer, I melded my mouth to his, rocking against the strength of his hard body until the firestorm broke over me. I cried out wordlessly, sobbing as the last ice melted from my soul.

The force of my climax was so powerful that for a moment I lost awareness of anything but the flare of heat burning through me like refiner's fire. When I could draw breath again, my eyes opened to meet Diego's passion-darkened gaze, his eyes never leaving mine as I closed my fist around him, a stroke or two all it took to bring him to his own shuddering fulfillment. Watching his expression soften as the waves of pleasure shook through him, knowing I had helped bring him that surcease, was as much of a balm to my spirit as my own gratification.

~~~

Captain Turner's body arched so willingly, so beautifully against mine, his climax coating my hand and groin with his seed. I could see his consciousness fade for a moment and so I waited patiently, despite my nagging erection, for him to come back to me. When he did, the look of joy on his face was nearly enough to incite my own orgasm, simply from the sight of his pleasure. Then his hand touched me again and I could no more hold back my release than I could hold back the tides.

I slumped against the bunk, letting my breathing settle some before I pushed up on one elbow. "Feeling better, Captain?" I asked him softly, needing to know that he was well in spirit as well as in body.

~~~

Captain. The title bound me once again to the fate my momentary pleasure had allowed me to forget. Was that all I was to him, still? Drawing him back down beside me, I combed my fingers through his sweat-dampened hair. "Not here," I told him quietly. "Above, on deck, I must be the Captain of the Dutchman, but here in private, there is no captain or crew – only lovers."

~~~

"Is that truly how you would have us be?" I asked seriously, letting him pull me back into his embrace, for that was where I wanted to be. I could not begin to imagine the desperation, the loneliness, he had lived with, and I knew how attractive my offer of comfort must have been, but I needed more than that before I could truly be his lover. I needed to know that he had made his peace with his past, with Elizabeth's death, just as I had struggled to make my peace with Maria's betrayal and death. I needed to know that he could look at me and see his present and future lover, not a pale replacement for his long-dead wife.

If that made me selfish, so be it, but I could not risk giving my heart to someone who could not cherish it. I had made that mistake once. To make it again, with a man I had already bound myself to for eternity, would surely destroy what remained of my humanity.

~~~

I had thought the joy I had found in Diego's arms had been obvious, but his question made me hesitate. Had I lost the ability to show my feelings along with my heart? It had not seemed that Elizabeth felt the lack, the two times we were able to be together; but she had her memories of the man I had been before my father cut the heart from my chest – perhaps those memories had been enough. But Diego knew me only as the captain of the Dutchman; he had only the time since he had joined my crew to form his impression of me. Suddenly it was of the greatest importance that he understood what the gift he had given meant to me.

"It is how I would have us," I avowed, my kiss the seal and proof of my assertion. No longer passive, Diego returned the kiss with as much ardor as I could wish, his lips and tongue engaging mine not in seduction, but in assurance of the emotion growing between us. When we broke the long, slow kiss at last, I rested against him, bolstered by the strong, steady beat of his heart. "I am sorry if I left you in doubt of that – it seems I have grown out of practice."

~~~

I could not doubt the sincerity of his kiss this time, nor of the emotion that motivated it. "'Tis I who should be asking your forgiveness," I countered. "You were fortunate in your Elizabeth. She cherished your love and kept your heart safe while she lived. Not all women are so noble in their love." I stole another kiss, or would have if he had not given it so willingly. There was no steady beat beneath my hand as it rested on his chest, yet I thought, for a moment, that I felt an echo of the rhythm that had once been there. I took comfort in that, be it real or simply my imagining. If I could feel that distant resonance, I could believe his heart was now in my care, and that gave me the courage to commit myself fully.

Lifting my head again as I caressed the rough scar, I added, "I will not doubt you again."

~~~

Something in his answer made me realize how little I knew of Diego's life before the wreck of the Rosa Ana brought him to my ship. I had told him some of my story, but had never asked for his. "You were not as fortunate?" I inquired softly, vowing to myself that he would have no cause to doubt again as long as we were together.

~~~

I shook my head, surprised at how quickly the impotent rage returned. "I was not a rich man, not a powerful one, but I counted myself blessed to have caught the eye and captured the heart of the most beautiful actress in Madrid," I recounted quietly, trying to keep my voice steady. "We were happy for a time, despite my inability to shower her with gifts. I gave her my heart and my devotion, and that seemed to be enough. Until the day she caught the eye of the king. How could I compete with him? He could offer her all the luxuries that were beyond the depth of my purse. Naively, I thought my love would be enough to keep her at my side, but I was wrong. She preferred to be his mistress for a time rather than my all for a lifetime. He used her, discarded her, and left her to die. Fool that I am, I took her back even then. She died in my arms."

I could not stop the swell of bitterness that rose up at the memories. Not wanting those emotions to taint my newfound relationship, I rolled from my new lover's arms, struggling to swallow down the bile that choked me. It had been more than two years, yet it seemed William was not the only one with a past to leave behind.

~~~

"Diego," I murmured, taking him by the shoulders and pulling him back into my arms. I did not know what comfort I could offer to assuage the hurt he had sustained, but I would give him whatever I could. "We have both known loss. If I have learned anything since taking the Dutchman, it is that there is nothing to be gained by looking back. Let the sea swallow the past." Holding his face between my hands, I kissed him again, trying to wipe away the memories of his faithless lover and finding myself caught up once again in the heat of desire.

~~~

Life had given my captain wisdom, it seemed. Maria was dead, and my fate was now bound to the Dutchman and her captain. My anger and grief had no place here on the ship or in this cabin. I returned the kiss and let go of everything but what I felt for him. "You're right," I said when I finally lifted my head. "I'm sorry for bringing her into your –" I caught his sharp look and amended my words "– our bed."

~~~

"Let's make it our bed," I agreed, determined to prove it had room for only the two of us and to erase the memory of any other lover. Easing him onto his back, I explored the contours of his lean body with my hands and lips, reading the tale his many scars told of his life as a soldier, his courage in battle, his strength in recovering from wounds that might have killed another man. Nothing could harm his body any longer, and I would be sure his heart was kept safe as well. Again and again my lips returned to his chest, to feel its pulse beating beneath them as my hands stroked down his back, up his thighs, over his flanks to his taut buttocks and the shadowy cleft between them.

His legs parted for me, his low moans of pleasure as I traced over the narrow path all the encouragement I needed to continue. As I kissed my way down his abdomen, the scent of his manhood, rich and pungent from his release, drew me lower still, until I could lap at the tip of his hardening staff. My fingers found the entrance I would need to breach if I was going to make love to him the way I ached to do, but it was hot and dry, nothing like Elizabeth's welcoming moistness. I would need something to ease my way inside... Wetting my fingers with the creamy fluid still cooling on his belly, I returned to moisten the tight entrance, while my lips moved over his shaft, learning the silky texture of its skin, the pulse of his blood through its veins, the places that drew the strongest response when I licked or sucked or drew my teeth over them. Each arch of his body or groan of pleasure made my own arousal even stronger, until my own cock was hard and throbbing in need.

~~~

I did not need the bump of a dry finger against my entrance to tell me of William's inexperience with men. His own recounting of his life and his love for Elizabeth had proclaimed that clearly, if not in so many words. His ingenuity, though, was equally clear when he found something to ease his way. It didn't take much, my body so eager for another's touch – no, for his touch – that it opened willingly beneath his gently probing finger. Then his mouth began exploring my cock and all thought ceased. I reached down to tangle my fingers in his long hair, needing that contact to ground me. He took his time, learning my flesh and my preferences, letting my reactions teach him what I could never have said in words.

Wanting to encourage him, I planted my feet on the mattress, lifting my knees and spreading my thighs wider, offering him unrestricted access to my body. "Feels... good," I managed to gasp, wishing I could reach more of him but unwilling to move enough to make it so. His lips moved lower, tonguing my heavy sacs and his name escaped my lips on a heavy groan. "Capt..."

~~~

"William," I insisted, lifting my head long enough to catch his gaze. His eyes were wide and dark, heavy-lidded with passion. Though I had given him my Christian name, even that felt too formal for what I hoped was growing between us. "Will."

"Will," he repeated, his husky voice turning the simple syllable into a sensual refrain. Returning to my exploration of his body, I ran my palms up his sinewed thighs, feeling the muscles jump below my hands as I mapped them. When I reached the tangle of dark curls that defined his manhood, I let my hands settle on either side, lowering my head again to breathe in his musky, masculine scent. I laved his sacs with my lips before drawing them into my mouth, tonguing them until I had memorized their shape and their taste. His deep groans and murmured exhortations spurred me on as I let the heaviness slide from my lips and moved beyond, following the satiny skin that led to his portal.

I did not have to push down with my hands to spread him for my approach; his hips rose eagerly, his legs parting further to entice me. Hungry to taste what he offered, I dragged the flat of my tongue down his crease, again and again until he was thoroughly wet and a spate of unintelligible Spanish flowed from his lips. Only then did I trace the quavering entrance itself, limning the wrinkled skin until he thrust a heavy hand into my hair and held me still, my lips spreading to cover him completely. "Will," he moaned as I pushed the tip of my tongue between the ring of tight muscle, voracious in my craving to know every inch of him, inside and out. "Will..." The dark, rich flavor intoxicated me, driving me to probe deeper, imagining the pressure that squeezed me clenching around my cock.

~~~

Will's name, once I had leave to use it, tumbled repeatedly from my lips. He might have been inexperienced, but there was nothing shy about my new lover. He clearly knew what he wanted and had no qualms about taking it. Not that I was complaining. Not that I would have dreamed of stopping him. I just hadn't expected his mouth on my entrance. Words fell from my lips, a string of curses and pleas that I doubted he understood. I could not make myself utter them in English, though. I was too far lost in my passion for any such coherency.

My hands kept his head where I wanted his attention most, stretching and pleasuring me, leaving me near mindless with desire, but I was not so lost that I did not realize it would not be enough. Forcing my eyes to open, I searched his cabin for something he could use to ease the way deeper than his tongue would go.

"The lamp," I gasped, seeing one hanging from the ceiling. "Use the oil from the lamp."

~~~

So new and unexpected were the sensations assailing me that for a moment Diego's words made no sense. When I grasped their meaning at last, I am not sure I didn't blush as I rose to remove the lamp from its chain and set it within reach beside the bed. Kneeling again between my lover's legs, I dipped my fingers into the viscous oil, rubbing them together until they were thoroughly coated. Then I returned to trace the now-wet opening, mimicking the explorations of my tongue with my oiled fingertip. Once I had it well slickened, I eased the forefinger inside, my earlier attentions allowing the digit to slide in easily.

Diego gasped and my eyes flew to his face, but I saw only desire in his chiseled features. At his urging, I soon worked a second finger inside the tight passage, turning and parting them until some of the pressure lessened. My cock stood heavily erect, glistening with its own clear fluid, when Diego caught my wrist, giving me to understand that he was ready for what was to come next. I was not entirely sure I was, but the need that gripped me was demanding its own satiation.

~~~

I let him explore my passage as long as I could stand, for there was much pleasure to be found as his fingers bumped repeatedly over the bundle of nerves inside me, ratcheting the passion higher and higher until I could barely breathe. But eventually, I needed more than his fingers inside me. Sitting up, I caught his wrist as I dipped my other hand in the same oil he had used to prepare me, running a slick hand over his cock, making him ready. Drawing him to me, I seized his mouth with my own – he had said he did not want a passive lover – and lay back, pulling him on top of me. Carefully, I fitted our bodies together, leading him to my entrance and urging him to take me, to make us lovers.

"Now, Will," I encouraged. "I want you." I bit back the rest of my words. I would say them, but not in the heat of passion when they might be misunderstood. No, I wanted the first time I told him I had fallen in love with him to be free of any doubt.

~~~

I wanted Diego as well, desperately, but as he guided me to sink into his body, joining us in the most intimate of unions, I knew that it was more than mere lust that impelled me. The rush of sensation that swept over me as I filled him was like nothing I had ever felt before; but the emotion welling just as strongly could never be mistaken for any other. I do not know what it was about this man that touched me so deeply, that allowed me to reclaim the part of myself I had feared lost, but I knew as surely as I knew the swell of the oceans that I loved Diego with all I had left of my soul. He could not possibly feel the same, at least not so soon, though I hoped in time he might come to love me in return. Before I could give voice to the feelings threatening to burst forth, I answered the passion of his kiss with all the ardor that burned within me, shifting inside him with a rhythm as instinctive and inexorable as the waves.

~~~

Will stretched me, filled me, fit me as no past lover had ever done, his body seemingly made to join with mine. I rejoiced in the communion of our bodies and our mouths as he kissed me passionately and began to shift within me. My hips moved without my conscious thought, meeting every rolling thrust, every gentle surge, the current of our passion pulling us along into the maelstrom that existed at the heart of all seas of desire. I never wanted the moment to end, never wanted to be farther away from my lover than I was right then, our bodies united as one. One hand dove into his long locks again, making sure he could not break our kiss. The other slid between our chests to settle against his scar, seeking again that ephemeral echo.

To my surprise and delight, no mere echo met my touch, but a strong rhythmic pounding that matched my own against the back of my hand. Unable to hold back any longer, I wrenched my head to the side, separating our mouths. "Te amo," I gasped desperately. "I love you."

~~~

Diego met me movement for movement, the intensity of his kiss feeding the tempest that built within me. I ground my hips against his as he caressed my chest, his palm settling over the ropy knots of scar tissue as he plundered my mouth. A roar as insistent as a storm-blast shaking the rigging resounded in my ears, growing stronger and steadier beneath his touch, until I recognized it as a sound, a feeling I had not known for over fifty years – the rhythmic pulse of my heartbeat, echoing in my empty chest. Before I could begin to marvel at how this could be, Diego tore his mouth from mine to speak, his emotions clear no matter what language the words were in.

"Te amo," I repeated, not understanding the miracle he had wrought but too full of joy to question it. Unable to hold back the torrent swelling within me, I seized his mouth again as it swept over me, my hand reaching between us to circle his cock, desperate to bring him with me as the vortex claimed me.

~~~

His words and his hand on me swept away what little remained of my control, leaving me completely at Will's mercy. He loved me. He desired me. He had claimed me and I could not hold back any longer. My body offered up tribute to my captain as I shuddered around him, massaging his invading length, hoping it would be enough to take him with me. I needed us to share this moment, to be united now as I hoped we would always be united. "Will!"

~~~

I sank down on my lover's welcoming body, my pulse racing as aftershocks trembled through us both, slowly easing like ripples fading from the water's surface. I knew I ought to rise and get something to clean the sticky fluid between us, but I was too sated to move. Wiping us both as best I could with a corner of the sheet, I settled back against Diego's broad chest, the rise and fall of his breathing soon matched by my own as I began to drift into sleep.

Diego tried to rise, murmuring something about rejoining the crew, but I felt too good resting against him to let him go. My arms tightened around him, holding him to my side. "Stay," I asked sleepily, pressing a kiss over his heart. "Stay."

~~~

That one word went further toward allaying my remaining nerves than anything else Will could have said. I believed his declaration, even though he had made it in the heat of passion, but loving me, being loved by me, did not guarantee the shape of our future. His sleepy request, on the other hand, let me know that he wanted me at his side even in the quiet moments. We would have to decide how he would behave in front of the crew – he was still captain, after all, and I a lowly hand – but here, in private, we would be together. As I settled against him to sleep, I knew that everything else was unimportant in the face of this one truth.

We loved. And that loving would help him hold on to his humanity. The proof of that beat softly beneath my palm.

tbc…