Full Sail [Closed] - Printable Version

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Full Sail [Closed] - megs - 10-15-2016

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RE: Full Sail [Closed] - saronym - 10-15-2016

Owen figured that the Veridian Royal Navy had been aware of his approach on their radar for several minutes. They had likely started casually watching to see if the vessel would turn around. He imagined the naval enlistees who no doubt monitored the radar jumping at their stations and calling for command assistance when they realized the advancing ship made no indication of slowing or turning.

And it didn’t. Owen imagined himself a bleeping red dot on the radar steadily approaching.

From the cockpit, he flipped through his book of radio channels and set the device to the appropriate one. The familiar crackling told him the channel was open and Owen hailed the entity on the other line.

“Veridian Royal Navy Berdea Port this is the Covenant of Allied Forces Fleet Commander Owen Reinhold Hart aboard civilian vessel Lanoria requesting permission to enter sovereign waters. Forward Berdean port authority docking procedures for a 35 foot vessel. I have business with the Queen. Over.”

He apparently wasn’t waiting for permission to enter sovereign waters as his ship was traversing the invisible line that marked international waters and Veridian Isles’ sovereign waterways. Also he wasn’t requesting the docking procedures; he had demanded them lest his ship sail right into the port blindly and risk colliding with other vessels or any marine structures, docks, or construction projects found there.

The cocky sailor figured the navy would either allow him to pass or sink him. Betting that the Veridian Royal Navy wouldn't risk the political fallout of sinking civilian vessels - even ones commanded by military officers on official military business - he didn’t even slack the sheets to slow his course.

While he awaited the return radio call, Owen changed from his usual deck attire into his dress naval uniform. A crisp white well-tailored suit that glittered with his military accomplishments in gold garnishments. His name was embroidered in blue on the left breast. This particular dress uniform was short-sleeved for the summer months and showed off the golden tan on his forearms and biceps.

If his ship were viewed from the port through binoculars the Veridian naval men would see a white sail boat with blue trimmed sails gliding along the sea. A black and blue flag bearing the gold anchor of the CAF Navy would be spied when the ship came closer. It was making an arching line towards the port.

Owen hadn’t bothered stating what his specific business was with the queen and he had no intentions to until he spoke with her directly. He carried a missive from CAF Central Command indicating that they had sent him to parlay with the Veridian Royal Navy regarding matters of easing maritime law to allow warships easier access to the Eastern hemisphere. The Fleet Commander had no intentions of meeting with any navy men, he planned to speak with the person who made the final decisions: the queen herself.

He’d made the executive decision to carry out the mission on his personal boat rather than bringing the C.A.F. Desdemona the menacing nuclear-equipped aircraft carrier he commanded. That vessel would have made an ominous obsidian mark on the crystalline Veridian waters. Owen had pictured the sight of his elegant sailboat spied from land making him look much less threatening. Though airtravel would have been the most efficient, he enjoyed manning his own ship. Besides, the Fleet Commander wouldn’t be caught dead traveling for official naval business on a jetliner.

That was just tacky.

The Fleet Commander was brash, a bit presumptuous, and full of himself. But he was certainly not tacky.

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RE: Full Sail [Closed] - megs - 10-15-2016

The naval command tower was abuzz with the occurrence of the incoming ship. Ensign and officer alike seemed to be baffled by the vessel, which was showing no signs of being halted as it approached port. In and outgoing maritime traffic was generally pretty predictable in Eryran waters, and the reaction from the crew was a mixture of confusion and hushed excitement.

Lanzo Weatherfare, Fleet Admiral of the Veridian Royal Navy was less amused; he was wholly annoyed by the cocksure way in which the other Commander cut clearly through the static of the radio.

“He’s requesting permission to dock sir.” The radar technician looked up to Lanzo from where she sat, monitoring the slow progression of the sailboat across their international line. Her ears twitched, nervously.

“I don’t know if I would call that a request.”

“I don’t think he’s going to wait for it, either,” another technician pointed out from the other side of him. The little red dot drew ever closer at a steady pace. Lanzo cursed under his breath, his options were limited when it came to dealing with the CAF sanctioned craft. Unless he wanted to start a war, he had no choice but to let him access the port at the least.

“Prepare him to dock,” Lanzo commanded, moving away from the radar.

The young ensign reached across the panels to the radio. “Read Commander Hart, this is Ensign Rodwyn Veria. Permission request granted via Fleet Commander Lanzo Weatherfare. Preparations for departure will be made at Dock 5. Over.”

When she was finished, Rodwyn and her partner turned to regard their Admiral. “He wants to speak with the Queen,” she said. Her partner, Adwyn, laughed beside her as if there was something hilarious about Commander Hart’s request to meet with the queen herself.

Lanzo grunted in response, picking up his jacket from the back of his chair and sliding it over his shoulders. “He can speak to me, and he can be happy that he is getting that much.”

'Cocky CAF bastard.'

“Inform the queen. I will meet him at the docks.” Motioning for two sergeants to accompany him, Lanzo left the tower to meet Commander Hart.


Keeping Julianna away from the anchorage would have been easier said than done. Easier if she were not already at Berdea Harbor, wandering through the various shops and stalls that lined the boardwalk. It wasn’t unusual for the Queen to be found in public, meandering barefoot through the city.

“Your majesty.”

Julianna turned her head at the sound of the approaching courier. She smiled at them with lips stained red from a handful of raspberries she had been eating. The green dress she wore seemed more akin to a robe, falling off her shoulders and exposing them to the sun and salt. A faint dusting of freckles could be seen painted against dark skin. She was barefoot, as she almost always was. Gold chains decorated her ankles and caught the light. A crown made of seashells kept voluminous waves of black hair close to her face, and suspended precious stones across her forehead. The dark curtain framed her pretty and bare features, flushed somewhat from the heat.

“What is it?” she asked, tail swaying lazily behind her head.

“A CAF vessel is making dock in Berdea,” the messenger informed her. “Admiral Weatherfare is handling the situation, but the Captain asked to speak with you specifically.”

Julianna pushed a raspberry into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “Is that so?” She hummed, turning a slow circle, effectively changing the direction she had been walking.

“Your majesty?”

She didn’t stop, so the young Lynx followed her instead. “Admiral Weatherfare said to inform you that you need not concern yourself with the ship.”

“But they asked to speak with me,” she said, with an entertained lilt. She followed the reasoning with another raspberry. In honest, the arrival of a CAF Naval Commander was probably the most exciting thing that would happen that day and she couldn’t miss it. She would find some fun in arguing with a stuffy, old foreign officer. The rest of the fruit disappeared into her mouth and she brushed her hands together, which did nothing to dissipate the pink of her fingertips. “Thank you for the message,” she said, as the courier shrugged and departed.

As she approached Dock 5 she could hear Lanzo complaining loudly about the whole ordeal to his sergeants and the dock masters that were preparing to receive the ship.

“Is that the ship?” she asked from behind him. The trio of officers visibly startled and whipped around to look at her.

“Your majesty-”

“Yes. I heard. No need to concern myself, etc.” Her tone, though pleasant certainly brooked no room for Lanzo to voice his protests. “I have decided to ignore your advice and greet our Covenant guest myself.”

Lanzo frowned, but bowed his head nonetheless, acquiescing to her decision. Julianna stepped up beside him, looking out across the water at the incoming sailboat; gleaming white with blue trim. “That’s the ship?” she asked, and Lanzo only grunted an affirmation.

“It’s pretty.”

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RE: Full Sail [Closed] - saronym - 10-16-2016

The Lanoria was coming into port at a pace that was too swift to ensure a safe docking. Owen put off slowing down until the latest possible moment. Suddenly the boat finally turned against the wind, leaning hard into the water as if it might tip over, and the sails went slack. Owen was really just having fun and showing off his sailing skills a little bit for the navy personnel who were no doubt watching him closely. He wanted to show them how he could keep the boat teetering on the edge yet somehow perfectly balanced between the forces of water and wind.

He was a white figure moving about the deck in dark Rayban sunglasses with gold trim.

Owen drifted easily into the dock designated for him, kneeling on the deck with rope at the ready to throw down to the dock masters and hands waiting to assist him. As he got near enough, Owen tossed the rope down. He kept some for himself and managed to straddle the pier and the side of his boat while he threw a knot, hands and arms pulling hard at the ropes.

While he did so, Owen glanced out of the top of his sunglasses at the small group that awaited him. A few in naval uniform and a woman with bare shoulders and bare feet on the docks. He surveyed her surreptitiously from behind dark lenses that hid his eyes. Concluding that she had to be the queen - it was the crown - he couldn’t help but be curious about her choice of dress. Not that he was complaining, but shouldn’t there be more stuffy petticoats and corsets and gloves? He had pictured something more akin to the English queens of the 17th century for some reason, but was much more pleased by this version of a queen.

Owen had never met a queen before.

When the boat was secured, he approached the group and finally removed his sunglasses. He folded them and let them hang from the second button of his uniform. Technically this was not military regulation in the slightest but there was nobody from the CAF to see him bastardize their grooming standards.

He locked eyes with the woman and gave her an elegant bow bending just enough at the waist for it to be considered appropriate. “Covenant of Allied Forces Fleet Commander Owen Hart, Your Majesty.” He introduced himself. Capturing her hand he brought the fruit stained skin to his lips and kissed the back of her knuckles. It was not a mere brushing of the lips as he pressed his mouth to her knuckles staring up at her with something foxy in those grey eyes. A vague hint of sugar and salt on his lips. The thought occurred to him that the rest of her might taste that way.

So he quickly released her hand and rose to his full height, clearing his throat as he did so. De nodded graciously at the Admiral and flanking naval personnel. “Admiral,” He was almost laughing. “I’m in awe of your lavish hospitality to incoming vessels bearing military colors. CAF standards are to fire a series of three warning shots across the bow and to broadcast a warning over all radio frequencies to halt approach or be forcibly boarded and detained.” He was most certainly not complimenting the Admiral, but poking fun at him in front of the queen just to see if he would squirm. “I like your style much better. Much more welcoming.”

Once he had greeted the Admiral in this way, Owen turned back to the queen and removed the missive from his pocket to hand it to her. “I wasn’t quite expecting to actually meet the queen.” He admitted. Though this was also a lie. He had no intention of meeting anyone else, really. What was unexpected was her greeting him at the docks. It pleased him to know that she had witnessed his stunts on the water. Even more so that her navy had allowed him to behave such a way and she had been watching.

Owen was having a wonderful time in the Isles already.

“I was expecting to have some time to clean up and eat first.” He said as if his appearance weren’t impeccable. His eyes wandered over her crown for a brief moment and down to her shoulders which were delightfully freckled from sun exposure. He policed his gaze, forcing it back to hers and away from the constellations on her shoulders. He chased away inappropriate thoughts from his mind.

“I’m starving. The trip was much longer than expected. The CAF nautical charts are wildly out of date. I drifted off course for a day or so before I realized I was going to pass you by. I’m almost out of food. I’ve been eating apples and nuts for two days. I have no luck for fishing.”

He rattled off his predicament to the queen in casual speech as if she were his equal. He was all smiles and seemed on the verge of laughing at himself, in a very good mood from his display in the port. Apparently, the young Commander had very little interest in court procedure other than the initial showing of respect.

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RE: Full Sail [Closed] - megs - 10-16-2016

“Is he showing off?”

“It appears so, sir.”

“Does he think we’ve never seen a sailboat before?”

Julianna couldn’t help but laugh at the conversation happening at her back. The joyful noise of it brought the talk to a halt and Lanzo seemed to bristle. “You’re just mad you had to let him into port,” she pointed out with a teasing tone. She let her eyes linger on the ship as it gracefully skirted the water. The show of it had met its mark; she was impressed by the skill of the sailor manning the craft. When the Lanoria came to a halt at the designated marker, her ears pushed forward as she caught sight the captain.

He was not the old, stuffy, foreign officer she had been expecting. She was staring; green eyes locked onto the way he moved as he worked to tie off the boat. Tanned muscles strained with the effort of securing the ship to the pilings.

“You should be concerned as well, your majesty.” Lanzo’s voice forced her to pull her eyes away, and she hummed in response. A clear sign that she hadn’t been listening. “It’s a show of weakness to allow him in here with no resistance.”

“I like to think of it as hospitality.”

“Your majesty-”

“What harm could possibly come from letting one sailboat into the harbor?” This time she turned when she snapped at him, her eyes settled on his with a warning that he was quickly daring towards insubordination. Julianna faced forward once more, just in time to watch the captain as he approached.

He was tall. Very tall, though it was possible her judgement was skewed because she was considered very short. Her eyes widened, surprised, when he took her hand. She stared back at him as if his gaze were some sort of contest. Grey eyes like the sea before a storm threatened to drag her into their depths. “Julianna Darkwillow,” she replied, as if he didn’t already know, but so it went with these proceedings. “Queen of the Veridian Isles.” His lips were cool on her skin as compared to the heat of the sun and when he released her, the feeling lingered as she dropped her hand to her side.

Julianna focused on the sunglasses hanging from Commander Hart’s shirt, as to not be caught staring at him as he spoke to the Admiral. Lanzo shifted uncomfortably at the word ‘hospitality’. Hearing it used against him from both parties pushed him closer to edge of annoyance.

“We try to be a bit more gracious,” Julianna explained before Lanzo could respond, most likely with anger. She practically heard his teeth snap as she interrupted him. “I don’t like force, and too quickly is it the cause of problems. Problems are easy to create, Commander Hart. Harder to resolve.” Her eyes flicked towards the Lanoria at his back, before meeting his again. She smiled. “You hardly presented yourself as much of a threat besides.”

Lanzo and his sergeants continued to hover anxiously as she was handed the missive. Holding the letter in one hand, she looked down at it, but didn’t open it. With her free hand she waved at the Admiral and he crew. “That will be all Admiral Weatherfare, thank you.” If she didn’t get rid of them their nervous energy threatened to rub off on her. She was trying to remain cool and collected beneath the gaze of the visitor.

The Admiral, though not entirely comfortable with leaving the queen with the strange newcomer, nonetheless bowed to her. His sergeants followed suit, before they retreated back to the command tower. The queen was hardly ever under surveillance, and she never had a guard on the day to day. She didn’t like company forced upon her, and was quite able to take care of herself.

Julianna still had not read the missive when she folded it smaller and tucked it into the pocket of her dress. The gauzy green fabric billowed around her knees, and gold chains around her ankles reflected the light when she moved. Her ears perked to the mention of food, and something about the easy way he spoke to her had her smiling. “I was just about to have lunch,” she said. Like she hadn’t been eating before his arrival, and didn’t spend most of her free time snacking.

“You should join me,” she suggested, clearly putting the official business he had come bearing on the back burner.

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RE: Full Sail [Closed] - saronym - 10-17-2016

Owen’s delighted gaze turned to Lanzo to await an irritated response. The blonde’s face dropped some when the queen interjected coming to her Admiral’s rescue. That was no fun. Owen was almost disappointed. He wanted to play with the naval commander some more.

“Very judicious.” He nevertheless complimented the queen giving her a respectful bow of the head. A mischievous grin took his features when he straightened again. “Though I prefer straddling the line between troublemaker and peacemaker, myself.” He said as if that were any way to go about handling international political affairs. “You might say I'm more of a cross-into-sovereign-waters-and-ask-questions- later kind of guy.” He winked at the Admiral for good measure.

He glanced momentarily behind him at his sail boat rocking gently with the waves. “Me, a threat? No, not at all.” He joked, one eyebrow creeping higher. Owen certainly considered himself a threat. As to what contexts in which he was threatening, well, he left that for the queen to decide.

Owen’s eyes darted between the Admiral and the Queen upon the Weatherfare’s dismissal. Silently the CAF officer unfolded his sunglasses and set them pointedly on the bridge of his nose hiding very bright grey eyes behind dark lenses. A gesture of victory over the Weatherfare.

“See you on the water Lanzo.” Was Owen’s way of closing his encounter. He gleefully imagined the words - a near military challenge cloaked in unearned familiarity - grating inside the Weatherfare’s head. Straddling the line indeed.

Owen’s eyes were caught by a glinting below the level of his gaze. He peeked under the rim of his sunglasses noticing gold jewelry gathered about enticing slim ankles. Distracted, he only vaguely registered that the queen had taken the bait and invited him to lunch. Instinctively the officer held out his elbow for her in gentlemanly escort. “I’d be honored to, Your Majesty.” Noting that she was keen on calling him Commander, he used the royal address lest he offend her.

He hooked his free thumb into the pocket of his white tailored pants in a posture that exuded cool tranquility. Owen had gotten his thrills on the water and could expect some local cuisine enjoyed in the company of a beautiful queen. What more could the young naval officer want?

“Dazzle me with all of the local delights. I think you’ll find that I have an adventurous palate.” Owen was not exaggerating. At times he felt his entire being was bent on adventure and novel experience.

As they traversed the docks, he tried to recall some facts about the Isles that had been compiled into a thick infopacket for his review in preparation for negotiations. Having neglected to pay much attention to the packet, Owen thought he recalled there being a king of the Isles as well, though he knew the country was a matriarchy.

“Will your husband -the King - be joining us?”

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RE: Full Sail [Closed] - megs - 10-17-2016

Commander Hart was cocky. That was easily her first assessment of him. He seemed to think that he had won something over the admiral due to the policies that she had set in place. She was beginning to get the feeling that he just couldn’t help himself. Determined to get the last word in even as she had already dismissed Lanzo to his duties. “Do you delight in teasing him?” Julianna asked when the crew was out of earshot. A brow of her own cocked and disrupted the pieces of onyx cascaded by her crown. “If it were up to him he probably would have sunk you.” She cocked her head, looking to the Lanoria once more. “There’s still time. Would be a shame I think.”

With a graceful shrug of freckled shoulders, she ignored the arm the Commander had offered and turned on her heel. Fabric swirled and anklets jingled as she walked away from him as if she expected him to follow. He wasn’t the only one who could be full of themselves, and she wouldn’t fall for his charms so easily.

“I’m sure you do,” she mused, leading him through the bustling market of the harbor. She looked at him over her shoulder, a dark curtain of hair hid her grin but did not hinder her tone. “A well-traveled commander such as yourself has certainly had his fair share of adventure.” She was teasing him, now. The urge to do so spawning from his somewhat arrogant presentation.

She stopped at stand stocked high with breads and rolls. One of the women overlooking the stand was flattening dough with her hands, working it into a near perfect circle before filling it with a mixture of meat, potatoes and spices. She would then fold the dough over into a pocket to be fried until it was a flaky, golden brown.

Julianna spoke to the second woman in Veridian. The words seemed mostly comprised of vowels, though a harsh consonant would break up the flow of it intermittently. Once, she looked over at Owen standing a little ways behind her. Her mouth was a crooked smile as she continued speaking, and both she and the clerk dissolved into laughter.

Pastries and what could have been thanks were exchanged, but no money and the queen came sashaying back to where she had left the commander. She held one of the treats out to him, wrapped in thin, crinkly paper. Steam still rising from the freshly fried dough. “Pastal,” she explained, as if it truly explained anything.

At his question, she paused mid-bite and blinked up at him. Her ears pushed forward, tail stopping its gentle movements to curl upwards towards her spine. “There’s no king,” she replied, flatly. “I’m not married,” she continued, before finally taking a bite.

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RE: Full Sail [Closed] - saronym - 10-17-2016

Owen placed a hand over his heart, a pained expression marring handsome features. “You wound me. Please I am at your mercy. Don’t sink the Lanoria. I’ll do anything.” The lilt to his voice was that of begging with more than a suggestion of something else behind it. He held out his wrists as if indicating she should arrest him. “Take me instead.” His visage eased back into the charming smile that seemed to be his baseline expression. He couldn't help himself when it came to instigating conflict. Similarly, his lack of restraint applied to flirting, as well.

He delayed in following the queen, standing on the dock with his rejected elbow out for a shocked moment. Mouth agape. Once the surprise of her haughty attitude washed over him, he trotted to catch up to the woman. She was already making her way through crowded streets. He brushed past people apologizing when he bumped into someone.

He lifted his sunglasses briefly, showing her his narrowed eyes and that her teasing of his claims to adventure hadn’t gone unnoticed. He let the comment stand, though. Owen was learning that the queen was rather playful. And he was more than willing to accept the challenge for a good game.

Owen pretended to browse a nearby stall while Julianna secured a snack. The fact that the women standing there were gossiping about him wasn’t lost on him. He secretly surveyed them from behind his sunglasses noting when Julianna turned to look at him and the women craned their necks as well. He waved his hand at the vendor in front of him indicating he was only browsing and turned to meet the queen bearing a snack for him.

Owen took the steaming pastry from the queen, his fingers brushing against hers, wax paper crinkling at the contact. He thanked her and repeated the name of the food after her displaying his ear for mimicking pronunciation.

“Really?” His surprise at her marital status was genuine and two-fold. For one, he had been convinced that she was married per the infopacket that he hadn’t even read. Second, he wasn’t sure how she could not be married. How anybody could let her unmarried self walk around barefoot, freckled, in flowing dresses? Ripe for the taking and nobody had? He found that difficult to believe. Perhaps she loved being pursued.

While these thoughts swirled Owen hungrily shoved the entire pastry into his mouth in one bite. It was hot. Too hot. His eyes watered behind his sunglasses and Owen waved his hand in front of his lips as he chewed. Though he had been too eager to wait for it to cool, the herbaceous flavors still registered to his tongue. Owen’s eyes rolled back behind his sunglasses in full appreciation of something savory after having only bland food for two days.

“That was absolutely the most delicious thing.” He licked his fingers and crumpled up the wax paper to discard it in a nearby waste bin. He blew a kiss of thanks to the women at the stall who had fed him.

“I suppose you haven’t found the right suitor yet.” He continued his thought on Julianna’s marital status as if he hadn’t just made a fool of himself with the pastry. “I’m curious to know, what’s been your best and worst marriage proposals?”

The subject of her love life was far more interesting to the Commander than the military business he’d come to attend to.

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RE: Full Sail [Closed] - megs - 10-17-2016

“To be fair, I would likely commandeer it before I sunk it.” She spoke so casually of the ship’s potential fate as it swayed in the mercy of her docks. Technically, her words had been a compliment. The wrists he presented for her capture were admittedly tempting as she wondered at the feel of his skin. Was it warm from the sun and rough with a coating of salt air. She could see the branching of veins across the surface of his forearms and found herself lacking for the inability to trace them with her fingertips.

Turning away from him was the best she could have done to save her own sanity. Taking his arm would have been nothing but a distraction, though it would answer all those questions she’d been asking herself. She could just picture it, lost to any potential conversation as she marvelled at the muscled feel of him beneath her hands. Julianna was distracted enough by charming smiles and flirtatious conversation without setting herself up for further failure.

Ears twitched, noting the sound of his surprise. Her own pastry was nibbled upon at a much slower rate than his. She was using the food as an excuse not to answer his questions regarding her courting status. Or lack thereof. She hid unkind laughter behind her hand at his display. Hopefully he was not so eager in all things as he was burning hot tarts. As her giggles died, she pushed the last of the pastal into her mouth and discarded the trash much the same.

The women at the stall giggled girlishly as he waved at them, and Julianna rolled her eyes. At his continued line of questioning her ears pinned back as far as they could at the hindrance of her crown. She continued walking, thankful for the heat of the sun to hide the flush on her cheeks. “I couldn’t say,” she admitted, approaching another stand and acquiring items much as she had before. This time she handed him a boozy cocktail made with local fruit and rum from Dakannore, as well as a stick of grilled pineapple.

“I haven’t had any marriage proposals since becoming queen. Nor did I have any before.” Though her ears and tail seemed to indicate otherwise, she seemed unperturbed to answer his questions.

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RE: Full Sail [Closed] - saronym - 10-17-2016

Owen registered the movement of her ears and tail, but wasn’t sure what the actions meant yet. Figuring he’d been too quick to pry, Owen tread more cautiously as they went. He accepted the drink and pineapple with more effusive thanks for her generosity.

He downed half of the rum cocktail thirstily. He picked the fruit out of the drink and popped it into his mouth biting down on rum infused berries alternating with bites of pineapple. Something sweet to balance out the pastal flavor that lingered on his palate.

Owen made a noise in his throat of understanding when she explained that she had not been proposed to before. Although he didn’t understand it at all. Being no stranger to failed marriage proposals and the sore feelings that came from the entire subject, Owen decided not to pursue the line of questioning much farther.

“Some men are just intimidated by beautiful women in positions of power, I guess.” He shrugged the subject off, letting the unforced compliment roll out naturally. It wasn’t said expressly to flatter her but more as a statement of what he seemed to believe was an objective truth about her and the world of men in general.

He pushed his sunglasses up on the top of his head so they could make proportionate eye contact and for her to see he wasn’t jesting this time. He tossed another berry into his mouth risking staining his shirt should he have missed. Of course, he didn’t. The berry landed nicely on the back of his tongue. Owen obviously seemed undaunted by the prospect of his company: a exquisite queen in the position to deny him something he wanted.

“I don’t know why I thought you were married.” He mused trying to recall the information on the pages he’d skimmed. “The navy provided me with some information to read over about the Isles but it fell overboard just as soon as I set sail. Unfortunate accident.”

No such 'accident' had occurred.

He laughed and sipped at his drink again. “Besides, I learn better from doing than reading. I never had much patience for book work. So you’ll have to tell me everything. Starting with the distilleries. Is this Dakannorean rum?” He gestured with his cup in question. “Very hard to come by in Eskra. And expensive as hell to import.” He let the minor expletive slip without thinking. And he didn't realize he’d done it.

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RE: Full Sail [Closed] - megs - 10-17-2016

Julianna paused, mid-step, at his compliment. As she turned to look at him, her head cocked to the side and her brow furrowed in the middle of her forehead. It was the purest look of confusion, naturally cascading across her features. Lips parted as if she would say something, but they closed again; no words, just a thoughtful humming. She had almost asked him to repeat himself. Surely he did not mean to call her beautiful; that would have been absurd to say the least. She drank deeply from her own beverage, looking away from him when the sunglasses were removed and that small barrier was lifted between them. Her ears remained pressed against her head, but she did not correct him.

“I couldn’t say,” she replied, delicately picking a cherry from between pieces of crushed ice. And she couldn’t. Looking around the market was enough to explain why she wasn’t exactly sought after in marriage. They were surrounded by tall and slender Lynx women. Save for children Julianna was easily the shortest person in the vicinity, and her curvature had been the subject of disdain since she was young. Her people loved her, they were kind and grateful, but they did not find her attractive. His previous compliment still danced around her head, and she scolded herself for her foolishness for latching on to it. He just wanted something from her, nothing more.

“Yes, it is.” She wondered if he could tell by the taste of it, or if he just assumed. “Most commonly the distillery produces a light rum and a dark rum. Those are the easiest to come by as they are only aged a year. There are other barrels, aged up to two-hundred years. If you’re willing to pay for them of course. The sugarcane is grown in tandem with the macadamia nuts in on the estate. Which gives the rum the smooth, nutty flavor that it is known for.”

They continued to walk as they conversed, and she continued to feed him as they did so. Julianna stopped at nearly every stall, and the owners were always delighted to see her. She never seemed to order from a menu, if she had to order at all. Most of the time they saw her coming, freshly preparing her favorites just as she arrived. She treated the commander to grilled chicken with balsamic glaze, and lemony oyster ceviche. There was tangy goat cheese on warm baguettes, coconut macaroons dipped in chocolate, and naturally more rum. The women continued to compliment her company. How all he was, how muscular he was. The curve of his smile, the color of his eyes as if she wasn’t painfully aware. She would smile and scold them teasingly.

“So,” she began, sipping the mint iced tea she had been handed somewhere along their walk. “Eskra? Is that where you’re from?”

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RE: Full Sail [Closed] - saronym - 10-17-2016

Unknowingly mirroring Julianna, Owen cocked his head in questioning at the expression that marred her face after his compliment. He glanced around him over his shoulder unsure whether there was something he was missing. Owen hadn’t noticed that Julianna’s body type was different than those around him. He certainly wouldn’t have noticed that her figure was considered ‘unattractive’ in anyway. Such a thought was an impossibility to a man who rather preferred women of short stature with full figures. Owen had placed. Julianna easily into the gorgeous category in his mind. He had placed her there unthinkingly on first glance.

While she described the rum, Owen was inspired to finish it off. He knew the brand from the taste. “My father and I are fans. He always gives me a case as a gift for the holidays. It’s usually gone by the New Year, to be honest. Navy family.” That last part was likely all the explanation he needed to justify his obvious thirst for rum.

The charming smile was ever on his face as he chewed the last of the fruit in his drink. “I would probably become his favorite son if I could get him the 200 year old aged stuff.” He frowned considering the veracity of his statement. He walked it back. “Actually, I think I would rather drink it myself. Renly's opinion of me is not worth that much.” More or less he was speaking to himself. Slightly buzzed from the drinks which he'd showed little restraint in savoring.

Owen followed Julianna easily through the marketplace, never letting her get too far from him in case he lose her in the crowd. Graciously, he accepted whatever she found fit to feed him and commented on his favorite flavors. Having a sweet tooth, the macaroons were easily his favorite treat. As was the rum. And he wasn’t shy about expressing these things to her.

He became more aware of the stares he earned from the women and vendors in the marketplace. His confidence wore down somewhat and he began to wonder if he had stains on his clothes or if his hair was mussed. He fidgeted under their eyes, combing his fingers through short blonde tresses, scratching at the fine stubble across his cheeks, and adjusting his uniform. It might have looked more like preening, though that would have been an accident. Owen decided that they were poking fun at the clueless foreigner, which he’d learned on his travels was generally a local pastime.

The question about his origins felt like a curve ball. Why did this queen care where he came from? He figured she asked in duty to polite conversation and possibly to procrastinate on the impending military business which had been tucked away into her dress somewhere.

“Very.” The accentuation of the word would be lost unless he explained. “My father is from the northern part of the country. My mother from the south. I am as Eskran as they come.”

Having slowly become satiated with all of the refreshments Julianna had curated for him, Owen was content to meander slowly by her side and savor the tea to settle the food on his stomach. His eyes passed lazily - almost sleepy with the rum and heavy food - over the stalls, scanning for anything his family might find interesting.

He paused sipping at the tea again, his eyes met with a woman at a nearby fruit stand who leaned to a friend and pointed at him. Owen took the top of Julianna’s arm in his hand to get her attention. Calloused fingers rounded soft skin.

“Are people staring at me because I’m casually walking around with the queen or for some other reason you’d like to let me in on?”

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RE: Full Sail [Closed] - megs - 10-18-2016

“If you plan on staying on a while, perhaps I could treat you to a visit of the estate.” The Dakannore distillery was not open to the public, but unsurprisingly they would likely make a special exception for the queen. She nodded, knowing exactly what he meant by navy family, having come from one herself. He father was the Admiral of the Royal Navy, before Lanzo, having retired when her mother passed away.

Julianna listened, intently, as he spoke of Eskra, and briefly his family. Walking beside him, her shoulder would brush his arm at times if she swayed on her path. Which was more often than not given their mutual rum consumption. Tail swayed gently near her feet. “My father is Eskran,” she explained. “I don’t know much about it, though. I would to visit one day.”

Work-worn hands on her arm caused her to stop, both at the intention of the gesture and at the surprise in which he continued to touch her so easily. Physical contact was not taboo among her people, it was quite common in fact. More as gestures of affection, and Jules was rarely on the receiving end of those touches. His question caused her to laugh, brightly, as if he had told some sort of joke, but as he continued to stare down at her she realized he was being serious. “They find you attractive?” Her tone rang with a question, as if it was absurd he didn't already know. “They think you’re tall and handsome. They like the color of your eyes. And your muscles...”

She looked as if she could have continued, but the sound of her name being called in various forms drew her attention elsewhere. Excited cries of ‘Queen Jules’ and ‘Lady Julianna’ echoed as a trio of children approached her. With a small wave to Owen, to excuse her for a moment, she leaned down to eye level with the young lynxes.

“And what have you three been up to today?” She smiled at them, ears pushing forward.

The children were an excited mix of twitching ears and swaying tails. “We made these!” The girl in the middle held up what could have been a bracelet made of twisted vines and small flowers. The other two, held up their own bracelets in triumph. Julianna gasped in excited wonder, straightening her posture and holding out her arms. The bracelets were secured to her wrists, two on the right one of her left and she turned her arms each way to inspect the pretty way they hung.

“These are very lovely, girls,” she complimented. “I would say they are worth…” she paused, bringing one arm closer and inspecting the bracelet hanging there. “Two pieces each.”

“TWO!” They shouted in unison, pushing against each other excitedly, as Julianna reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of wrapped toffees. When she had dropped two into their outstretched hands, they thanked her and scurried off with their prizes. Turning back to Owen, she smiled at him, before motioning that he give her one of his hands.

“Will you be staying on the Lanoria?” she asked. The sun was dipping lower into the sea, casting orange-pink hues across the sky. Shopkeepers were turning on lights, or starting to close for the night. “Or shall I walk you to the inn?”

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RE: Full Sail [Closed] - saronym - 10-18-2016

“The moment I crossed into your waters, I planned to stay a while. I have a lot of unused leave I think I have cause to cash in. I would like to visit each of the main Isles actually. It would give me a chance, also, to update our dismal nautical charting.”

Owen kept close to Julianna as she led him through the streets out of gentlemanly habit. If she wouldn’t take his arm, he would stay by her side as best as he could. Keeping her company was effortless likely due to her generous hospitality and his easy charm. Their arms brushed against one another as they walked as if they had known each other for years. Owen noted that Julianna wasn’t obviously bothered by the intermittent contact.

He perked up, eyebrows climbing when she revealed she was part Eskran. “Really? You should visit sometime! Let me pay you back for all this.” He suggested excitedly. “You can stay with my family. They will, no doubt, give you the full treatment. We’re a rather proud Eskran family. They would insist you get in touch with your roots.” He admitted the last part a bit sheepishly as if embarrassed by how tribal his family could be at times. For some it was delightful. For others it was overbearing.

His fingers fell away from her arm trailing slightly across her skin. A hint of a pout played out on his lips when she laughed at his expense. This was quickly corrected by the boost to his ego to learn the women found him attractive. Lips parted in a smirk and Owen folded his arms over his chest which only accentuated the shape of his biceps. “Well then. I’m glad I’m earning your hospitable treatment in some way or another.” He used ‘your’ pointedly playfully implying that she was only feeding him as an excuse to parade him around the marketplace like a prized dog.

No sooner had he made this suggestive remark and she was moving off to address the children who called for her attention. He approached to observe the exchange, staying back enough so as to avoid looming over them all. Owen found himself involuntarily beaming down at the display watching ‘Lady Julianna’ indulge the children with natural affection. He acted shocked himself, gasping and throwing his hand dramatically over his mouth, when Julianna revealed the fortune in candy she would pay for the homemade bracelets. After the kids retreated to enjoy their sweets, Owen thrust out his hand to her without hesitation to accept whatever prize she indicated that she planned to give him.

Owen stopped mid-step, planting his feet, and folding his arms once again over his chest when she inquired about his sleeping arrangements. A strongly defensive stance. “What am I, the Fleet Commander of the Covenant of Allied Forces Navy on official military business, not invited to stay at the palace?”

His voice climbed in pitch to mark his mock outrage. Owen didn’t think she would allow her disruptive foreign guest the honor, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t ask in that cocky teasing way of his.

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RE: Full Sail [Closed] - megs - 10-18-2016

“Excellent!” She’d risen on her toes, delighted at the idea that he would stay awhile. She had sounded eager, almost too eager, as if she had been granted the privilege of spending more time with a life-long friend. She very much wanted the chance to get to know the captain better. When she cleared her throat it did nothing to dissolve her previous excitement. “Please let me show you around. I know these islands as well as anyone. I can show you all the best things!”

The lonely queen wondered if she had found someone to wander around with, even if only for a short while.

Julianna’s ears pushed forward, and she smiled. She was overwhelmed by the idea of visiting Eskra and meeting his family. “That sounds like so much fun,” she exclaimed. She clapped her hands together and twirled once, swept up in the dream of it. Green fabric billowed higher on her thighs with the movement. “I will show you the Isles and you will show me Eskra. Sounds like a good deal, no?”

His hand pulled away and his fingertips left near burning trails across her skin. Her gaze honed on on the brief pout of his mouth. Kissable. His mouth looked very kissable. She was no expert but if she ever had to choose a mouth to kiss, his would be the one. Somehow she was still hearing his words over the distraction of the lips forming them, and she gasped in mock offense. “I was feeding you out of the goodness of my heart,” she insisted, finally letting her gaze rise to his. “I couldn’t take the thought of a starving sailor on my shores.”

Amused by the enthusiasm in which he offered his, she cupped her empty one beneath his. Fingers smoothed delicately over his knuckles, nails curled lightly against the back of his hand. Her other hand came to rest on top of his, trapping the remaining piece of candy between their palms. “Thank you for your wonderful company,” she said kindly, pulling her hands away all at once and leaving him with the wrapped toffee.

Looking back when he stopped, she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth to unsuccessfully hinder a giggle. She crossed her arms to match his. No one had ever requested to stay at the castle before, jokingly or not. But then again, no one had ever spent most of the day at the harbor with her either. Most dignitaries were too wrapped up on the business they had come advocate for and they very nearly went as soon as they had come. Julianna and her father were the only ones that stayed at the castle regardless. Perhaps, it would be refreshing to have a guest, especially one as entertaining as he.

“You may stay at the castle if you’d like, Fleet Commander.” She tried to sound as if he had worn her down. Won some small victory in the invitation. “It would make it easier for you to join me for breakfast, anyway.”

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