Topic: Sea Legs

Adelina

Date: 2015-03-29 11:50 EST
March 30th, 1614

Two days after the wedding that had linked two households for a lifetime, the Duke of Elan and his new Duchess set sail from Cicile, embarking on the journey that would take them to Pasai and the new life they had begun together. Though the sea voyage was the shortest leg of that journey, it was not one that was looked forward to by everyone who embarked, much to the amusement of certain of the company. Adelina was caught up in her excitement, her love of the sea, barely noticing the rolling of the deck beneath her feet. Her lady, however, was not quite so easily distracted from the roiling of her belly. Valeria had taken to her cabin soon after they had left the harbor, and had not been seen since.

The seamen on board ship seemed hardly to notice the roiling of the sea, as accustomed to it as they were, but another passenger on board, who was trying to be brave for the sake of his lady, was failing miserably. Leandro had never had the opportunity to acquire sea legs, and it seemed he was not about to do so on the return voyage home. The more the ship lurched, the greener he looked. He'd hardly eaten anything since coming on board. What was the point, when everything he ate just ended up in the sea"

By contrast, Adelina was fresh-faced, eager to stand in the prow and look ahead to the waves that would bear them onward, to admire the line of the coast they traversed, heedless of the rolling ship nor of the salt-touched wind that swept at her skin. She was young yet, and had little sympathy for those who could not stomach the journey, finding Valeria and Leandro's pale faces, tinged with green, more amusing than concerning. "You climb, si"" she suggested to her husband, pointing to the high mast. "It rock more, settle your stomach."

"Climb?" he echoed doubtfully, as he leaned against the rail, just in case his stomach decided to roll over again with the next wave. He turned a dubious gaze at the mast, paling further at the very thought of climbing to that height. Ask him to charge into battle with nothing but a horse and a sword, and he'd be more than happy to do his duty, but as far as sailing was concerned, he wanted nothing to do with it. "I do not think so."

She laughed at his denial of her suggestion, climbing herself onto the rail of the ship beside his uncomfortable frame. With one hand wrapped about the rigging beside her, she leaned far out over the water, looking down to point in delight at the dolphins keeping pace with the bow of the ship. "Guardare, Leandro, see" They keep safe us!"

"Good Goddess, Adelina!" he exclaimed, swallowing down the bile that was rising in his throat, reaching to pull her away from the edge. "Are you mad?" he asked, alarmed. These were not the calm waters of her Cicilia; this was the raging sea that was wont to swallow up those who were unfortunate enough to fall into her waters.

His alarm was more than enough to make her laugh once again, but the way he pulled her down from the railing brought her laughter bubbling forth without much restraint at all. "You no trust the sea, mio marito"" she asked him with impish mischief in her eyes. "She send delfini to see us safe. You feed, si"" With a wicked little snicker, she mimed throwing up over the railing before dissolving into giggles once again.

He scowled at her, eyes narrowed, at seeing how she seemed to have so little regard or sympathy for the weakness of his stomach. "You find this amusing, do you, wife?" he asked, putting an emphasis on that last word, knowing she'd understand it in his language or hers. Oh, he was going to have his revenge and it was going to be sweet.

In many ways, she was charmingly childlike in her lack of sympathy for his sea-sickness. Her amusement was not malicious, however poorly received it might be. His use of the word "wife", however, stilled her laughter, despite the smirk that curved her lips as she looked at him. "You big, strong man," she pointed out, as though this was perfectly reasonable. "You sick over wobbles."

"I did not grow up near the sea, like ..." He trailed off, as the ship rocked again and he was overcome with another wave of nausea, leaning overboard to "feed" the dolphins, so to speak. The sky was darkening in the distance and there was a distant rumble of thunder, which didn't bode well for those who were less hardy at sea. If it wasn't for Adelina, he would have gone below deck, like Valeria had done.

Despite her laughter, Adelina stayed at his side as he suffered through that eruption, her hand gentle on his back. She was not entirely heartless, after all. "Two days, il mio Duca," she promised him. "We step land again soon." She had yet to confess to him that she did not know how to ride - there had been no need to learn in Cicile, with its canals and gondolas.

Two days, he thought. It might as well be two years. He muttered a rare curse, as he wiped a hand across his mouth, which tasted as sour as the contents of his stomach. There would be no kisses shared until they were back on dry land. "Scuse, principessa. I am not accustomed to such voyages." He hoped she did not think him weak, though his stomach clearly was so.

"Duchessa," she corrected him gently, content to cast off her royal title and take his for her own. Withdrawing a cloth from her bodice, she took his hand to wipe it clean, folding the cloth once again to wipe his mouth clean. "You feel less sick in the wind, si"" she asked. "You drink, wash mouth. I fetch."

He was in no mood to be corrected on such a minor technicality as her title. For now, his only concern was trying to keep his stomach for doing somersaults. Touched by her concern, he softened a little, despite her apparent amusement at his situation. "Less sick?" he echoed, wondering how the wind would make him feel less sick when it was the wind that was to blame for rocking the damned ship.

She struggled to make sense of what she was trying to say. "Valeria, she stay sick, she out of air that is fresh," she tried to explain, smiling gratefully at a sailor who paused to hand her a water skin for the duke. "Grazie ....Drink, Leandro."

"But ..." he started to protest, not seeing the logic in ingesting something he would likely just end up retching again. When all was said and done, it came down to a matter of trust, and whether she was amused by his lack of seaworthiness or not, she seemed to know what she was doing and was genuinely trying to help. He took the water skin from her and reluctantly took a slow swallow, waiting to see if it would find its way back up.

"Look at land," she suggested to him then. "Or out ....across sea. Not to waves we ride, si?" She knew enough to understand that it was the motion of the ship that was upsetting his stomach, and focusing his eyes on something that did not seem to move would help him.

Adelina

Date: 2015-03-29 11:50 EST
"Land?" he echoed, searching the horizon and not finding any that was close enough to focus his sight on. He was looking a little peaked again, and on the verge of panic, wishing they had made the voyage by land instead, even if it would have been longer. This was nothing short of torture. He did as he was told, looking out across the sea and trying not to focus on the waves beneath them, closing his eyes a moment even to try and calm the view that was playing havoc with his stomach.

With his eyes closed, and knowing his mouth was clean now, Adelina took her opportunity to distract him in the only way she could really think of. He was too stubborn to accept that there was nothing he could do but endure the journey, so she gave him something she knew he at least enjoyed. And apparently seeing the Duchess kiss her Duke without even being prompted to do so was enough to raise a cheer from the sailors who saw them.

If he'd been surprised by first her amusement at his agonized situation and then by her caring concern, he was undoubtedly even more surprised by her choice of treatment, followed by the rousing cheer from the sailors looking on. It seemed her kiss had the desired effect, effectively distracting him from his seasickness at least long enough to return her kiss without further illness. Though his face was pale, there was a faint smile on his face as he broke the kiss, glancing to the sailors looking on and waving them on. "Surely, you have more important things to do than watch a man kiss his wife?"

Adelina was laughing once again as the sailors who had been watching them turned back to their duties, each with a fresh grin on his face for the pleasing spectacle allowed them for a moment or two. She smiled up at her husband. "You feel not so sick now?"

He practically glared at the sailors, though once they turned away, he couldn't help but share an amused smile with his wife. "Not so sick now," he echoed, affirming her statement, though he wasn't sure how he was going to make it through the night if the sea didn't calm down. "I am not accustomed to traveling by sea," he explained, though that much seemed obvious enough.

"Not so long now," she promised him, gentle fingertips stroking his temple. "You find laugh in me on land, si" I not ....accuss sommed ....to travel by land." It was an odd thing to confess, but perhaps it made sense. She had lived all her life in the city of Cicile, where travel was by foot or by boat. There was no real call for carriages or horses in the place of her birth.

"No?" he asked, arching a brow. Maybe if he just focused his attention on her, the roiling of his stomach wouldn't match that of the sea. It made sense, he supposed, since there was no reason for her to have to travel by horse or by carriage back home. "There's nothing to fear, Adelina," he assured her taking her hands in his. "I will take care of you." It did not occur to him that she might react to the journey on land the way he did on the sea. He had never seen anyone become ill that way, and it simply had never occurred to him that it was possible.

She smiled, her chilled hands finding a place in his without hesitation, braced well against the movement of the ship as the swells began to grow. The storm coming would soon send them below, to be out of danger and out of the way of the men working around them. "I not fear," she nodded to him. "I care, you care. Yes?"

"Yes," he assured her with a faint smile, touching her cheek tenderly. "Yes, I care," he repeated, touching his lips to hers, oblivious of those who might be watching. One arm went around her waist to pull her close, while the other held tight to the railing to brace himself.

If it was not yet love, there was affection growing between them - born of that hidden passion, yes, but the seed was sown. Adelina's lips curved in a soft smile as he kissed her once again, her hands gentle on his face as the ship pitched heavily into a deep trough.

"Mi se"or duque!" The captain's voice broke into the gentle moment. "Take your lady below, sir, if you please!"

As the ship lurched suddenly, he abruptly broke the kiss, a white-knuckled grip on the railing. His face blanched further as he nodded to the Captain, one hand reaching for Adelina's hand. "Come, we must go below deck," he told her quietly, trying to be brave for her sake. "Sotto," he explained further in her language. There went his stomach again, but at least it was warm and dry below deck, and there was a pail if he really needed it.

Grateful for the translation, minor though it was, Adelina nodded in agreement as the first drops of rain began to fall. Still confident on her feet, despite the lurch of the ship and her heavy skirts, she took Leandro's hand to lead him away from the rail, ducking into the passengerway beneath the quarterdeck and toward the captain's cabin, that had been given over to them for the journey.

In truth, she was far more self assured and sure on her feet aboard the tilting boat than he was, and though his male ego was slightly wounded by that fact, his roiling stomach didn't leave him much time to worry about that. He ducked his tall self past the doorway and into the passage that would take them down the stairs to the captain's quarters, grateful to be out of sight of the sea, though being below deck offered another kind of challenge.

The noises coming from the smaller side cabin where Valeria was quartered did not do much to improve things. It would seem that Adelina's companion - and their translator - was decidedly not a sailor. Trying not to laugh this time, the young duchess drew her husband into the cabin that was theirs for two days. Warm with windows that allowed in the fading light, it was a surprisingly welcoming space. She patted the blankets that lay on the wide bunk set tight to the bulkhead. "You lie," she told her husband affectionately. "I find water."

The sound of her companion retching in the smaller cabin only made his stomach that much more queasy. He nodded mutely as he started toward the bunk, having to take slow steps so as not to lose his balance and fall flat on his face. Despite his pride, he knew better than to argue with her, and like a sick boy in the care of his nursemaid, he obediently did as he was told. How had he survived the journey to Cicile all by himself" It seemed hardly possible now, but the sea had seemed a bit calmer then.

She rolled her eyes at him as he lay down, chuckling a little. "No, you ..." Her grasp on Pasan failed her, and she stumbled a little, miming him removing his cloak and boots. "Si? Salt in bed is ....not good." Smiling, she moved to one of the many cabinets, rifling through the contents for what she was sure she had seen. And there it was ....a bottle of brandy, perfect to settle his stomach.

Adelina

Date: 2015-03-29 11:52 EST
He arched a brow as it took him a moment to sort out what it was that she wanted him to do. He thought it hardly mattered if he kept his cloak on or not, but was in no mood or shape to argue with her. He pulled his boots off first before unclasping his cloak and setting it aside. "You must think me a fool," he murmured as he tried settled himself back upon the cot. "A coward and a fool," he added.

Again, she didn't need to know the words to understand that he was not being precisely pleasant about himself. With a small measure of brandy poured out into a cup, she moved back to him, dropping onto her knees beside the bunk to offer it to him. "La misura di un uomo non " in quanto spesso si cade, ma quante volte risorge," she assured him, though she doubted he would understand. "I see not you fall, but you rise, yes" Every man not have stomach for sea."

She was right; he hadn't understood a word of what she'd said, but he got the idea. She wanted him to drink whatever it was she had poured him. What did it matter really' He was already feeling ill; it couldn't possibly make things worse. He took the cup from her and held it up to his nose, recognizing the distinct smell of hard liquor. Brandy, if he wasn't mistaken. "It seems I certainly don't," he remarked regretfully. Maybe with her help, he'd learn to find his sea legs someday, but for now, he had no choice but to endure illness and put himself in her hands. He tossed back the liquid, wincing as it burned its way down, warming his stomach almost immediately.

Taking the cup from him, she set it safely aside before rising to remove her coat, hat, and boots herself. "It not make you weak," she told him confidently. "It show you strong, to show ....softness?" It wasn't the right word, she knew, but she hoped it was close enough to make sense for him. The sooner they were on land again, the better for her lessons. Valeria knew Pasan fluently, but given her current state, getting more than a groan from her was nigh on impossible.

"A soldier isn't supposed to show softness, Adelina," he told her, climbing under the blankets and moving over to make room for her. The captain's cabin was comfortable enough, even for two, though it was a far cry from the ducal castle.

"Soldier?" The word was offered in a soft query as she eased beneath the blankets with him. Riding out a storm was best done in a bunk, she knew from experience. That they were both still fully dressed meant nothing. A cabin could get very cold, even in the middle of a steaming summer. "Ah ....a man who has spada," she made a guess, twisting to face him on the hard mattress. Her hand touched his chest. "That is what man does. Not what is."

He was not sure how to translate that word into her language, nor was he in any shape to mime sword fighting in his current condition. "Spada?" he echoed, unsure of that word. He was still too pale, though the brandy was helping warm his insides and calm his stomach. He slid an arm around her waist to draw her close, in part to keep her from falling off the cot.

"Si, spada ....sword?" she tried to make it clearer. He had used spada himself just a few days before, but a lot had happened since that first meeting. She smiled as he drew her into him, away from the raised lip of the bunk and the danger of being tipped onto the deck should the ship lurch too strongly. Her fingers gently stroked against his cheek. "You rest now, yes?"

"Oh, si, spada," he agreed, understanding her finally, though it wasn't only a sword he used when in battle. "You ..." he hesitated a moment, almost afraid to admit to his own failings and weaknesses. "You will stay, yes?" he asked, as she stroked his cheek, calming his worries.

His young wife nodded, smiling once again. She did not bother to point out that there was nowhere she could go while a storm raged around them. "I stay," she promised him, arching her neck to press a kiss to his forehead. "I care, si?"

"You are a good woman, Adelina," he told her as she pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I am glad the Goddess put us together." It was an awkward statement, but he was a soldier and a noble, not a diplomat or a poet. Words had never been his forte with women; actions had always spoken louder than words, but with her, he found himself wishing he had more poetry on his tongue.

He had time enough to learn poetry, if that was his wish. It would be several months before she was fluent in Pasan, after all. She shushed him gently, drawing the blankets up about his shoulder to stave off the creeping chill of the spring storm as it rocked them back and forth. Two more days of this, and he would be back on solid ground. She was sure he would survive it, and emerge stronger than he believed he was.

With her by his side, he thought there was nothing he could not do.

((Couldn't resist poking at him a bit, but just you wait - revenge is sweet. :lol: Thanks to Leandro's player!))