The Tide

Sinbad gazed over the azure surface of the sea, his equally blue eyes peering over the ship’s deck. The distant port of Bira was a safe haven from evil merchants and raiders. Being the most well guarded city in the more southern seas, many sailors took refuge from the hardships of life there. Here was where he would take refuge from a bitter memory.

Shortly after Maeve had boarded a ship that would take her to a life of imprisonment, they had devised a plan to rescue her. But, halfway to the island, they found pieces of a ship, the side bearing the stamp of the officials of Floating Death. Floating Death was an island that wasn’t anchored to the land, and its prisoners never escaped. All had been lost in the wreckage, including Maeve.

Sinbad shivered at last year’s tragedy. The red haired sorceress had been pushed from his mind as he all but worked himself too hard. Doubar had mentioned that the vacation would do them all good. The year had ranged from rock monsters to large dragons that ate babies, and all of them were exhausted. Firouz had offered to help them out by remaking his relaxation tub, but they declined gracefully. He too, had felt the loss of Maeve, and invented more than ever.

Sinbad sighed heavily, and peered up at Dermott’s perch. The hawk had mysteriously reappeared before the shipwreck. The hawk’s normally glossy coat turned dull after her death, and his usual, weeklong moult lasted two weeks. The hawk had also taken it incredibly hard, and ate only minimally. Bryn didn’t take it too badly, but appeared to be a little more thoughtful these days. The war had changed a lot of them. “SINBAD! Watch out for the deck of the port!” Firouz shouted. Sinbad snapped out of his reverie, quickly breaking the silence with his commands.

“Watch the sails! Take the lines up!” he shouted. Dermott watched the humans carefully, and then ruffled his feathers, feeling a droplet of rain kiss his feathers. The weather seemed to match his attitude right now.

Rongar drank his ale calmly, allowing the company of the crew to brighten up the weather outside. Thunder rumbled threateningly, the rain coming down hard, filling the barrels outside to the brim. Dermott was perched on a rafter nearer to the fire, so he could fight the chill. Sinbad, who was carving piece of meat, occasionally tossed a choice morsel to the large hawk, who in turn would snatch it in the air. Doubar was talking to a local merchant who was asking about their services, while Bryn was getting some more drinks for the rest of the crew. With the skeleton crew on the ship, Firouz was taking a couple of satchels to help placate their hunger and thirst. They had secured some rooms here and another place, and many men had already sought them out to sleep in a warm bed. Sinbad told them to be discreet if they took any women to their beds, and they all agreed. Rongar’s keen awareness had already sensed that Sinbad was eyeing several flirtatious barmaids. Rongar wasn’t discouraging it; he just felt that sometimes Sinbad had to learn restraint. Even he himself limited to how many women joined his bed in a month.Doubar suddenly laughed at the merchant’s comment on the quality of their service. Sinbad questioned him, and laughed also, but the mirth didn’t match his cold eyes. Dermott suddenly became alert, screeching repeatedly. The bartender looked up.

“Tell that damn bird to shut up or I’ll roast his hide!” he roared at Bryn. The petite girl jumped in shock, and called Dermott down to her wrist.

* What’s wrong? * Bryn asked. Dermott’s thoughts were jumbled as he continued to croon. Sinbad handed Bryn a piece of meat to silence him. In his agitation, Dermott flew out as a barmaid opened the door, causing the poor girl to screech. She shut the door, and quickly ran to the back room. Sinbad shook his head in amusement, and hastily chewed on a piece of bread. Bryn looked at him in discontentment.

“I’m not sure it’s safe out there. This storm is odd feeling, not natural,” she commented to him. Sinbad smiled and stood up, motioning to Rongar to follow.

The two strode out the door, and were soaked to the bone as a wagon rumbled by, splashing them hard. Sinbad shook himself, then reached in and grabbed their cloaks.

The search had lasted for a fifteen minutes before they saw Dermott squawking in the cover of a balcony.

“Smart bird,” Sinbad said, grinning at Rongar. The Moor smiled and shivered from the cold rain. Sinbad was about to ask Dermott to come down when a quiet sloshing caught his attention. Doubar’s gruff voice spoke out suddenly,

“Ha, little brother, you look wetter than any sea dog should be!” Bryn’s laughter accompanied him, and Sinbad mock-glared at them as he tried to scale the wall. A woman’s shriek filled the air.

“Get off my wall, you voyeur!” She screamed, slamming the chamber pot on his fingers. Sinbad yelped in pain and ended up falling into the mud, buttocks first. His breath gone, he coughed harshly. The crew was beside themselves with laughter, collapsing into one another. Sinbad felt the mud stick to him as he pushed himself up. He started to scorn his crew when he caught a feeling, something that tugged at him down to his very soul. He looked up, and caught sight of a tall, black horse being handled by a groom in the nearby stable. The horse looked familiar, and Sinbad limped to the barn, the crew following, still giggling. Sinbad approached the soaked horse, whose luxurious mane was crimped with the rain, but there was no mistaking the noble blood in the horse. The groom looked up from where he was undoing the hackamore, the only piece of tack on the horse.

“Kin I help yea, milord?” the groom asked, his accent rough as he busied himself giving the horse some hay. Sinbad tore his eyes away from the stallion.

“Aye, where’s the owner?” The groom pointed to a different tavern, and Sinbad began to mincingly walk to the tavern. Someone was walking back, accompanied by two others. Sinbad passed them, suddenly feeling the urge to turn around. He looked back, and saw the leader’s black cloak. “Excuse me…”

Maeve felt him long before she saw him. The tug on her heart was there, but she felt no true love to him, or so she believed. They had both changed too much, lost too much. Goddess, how tired and old she felt, like the final stage of the moon, a Crone…old and ugly. She still could not walk without pain in her body, and her once proud beauty was now less proud, more like the angry ferocity of a hawk. All she met found her cold; children sensed that she was dangerous. The men she travelled with were ruthless berserkers, who at the taste of blood would kill all that challenged them.

She no longer spoke Arabic, only Gaelic and Greek, and she trusted her sword more than her powers. That’s why she was upset that she felt Sinbad and Dermott so close. She had pushed Ebony at bit harder than normal to get to the tavern, but ended up changing her plans, wanting to go to the farther sections of the port, despite the complainants of the berserkers. She tried to avoid Sinbad, but there was undeniable pull to him. Plus the other streets were filled with water. She tried to hurry past to him, but her feet betrayed her, keeping their normal pace. It was then that she heard him speak…

“Excuse me,” he asked. Maeve felt the urge to keep going, but knew that that would only raise his suspicions. She had two berserkers, damn it! What did she have to be afraid of? She turned, and called the rain to shield her face.

“Yes…” she asked, keeping her voice husky. Sinbad looked to Bryn, who closed her eyes and cleared the rain. Maeve had hardly expected that and turned sharply away, hiding her face. She knew that the horses were needed and sent the berserkers away. Dermott chose that moment to fly to her, only to be rebuffed by sharp blows. Sinbad leapt at her, not knowing why this stranger disliked Dermott so much as to hit him. He yanked her around.

“Who do you think you are?” he demanded. Doubar saw the face first.

“Sinbad…” he whispered. By then, Sinbad had fully shaken her, causing her to cry out. Sinbad stared at the familiar face, the shock not registering. Maeve struggled against him, tears of frustration in her eyes. She finally yanked away, and began to run to the stables. Sinbad watched. Dermott swooped down onto Sinbad’s shoulder. * Do not let her get away, Sinbad * he said roughly, launching off his shoulder. Sinbad broke off into a sprint, powered by desperation.

“Maeve, stop…please!” he cried, not expecting her to stop, surprised that she did so. He closed in behind her.

“Please…don’t,” she whispered. Sinbad was so close, so close to her. The grief that had once cloaked him like a blanket had now lifted, and Maeve could feel the elation inside of him. He pressed her back to him, but Maeve refused to turn. I won’t let him see me like this, so weak, she thought fiercely. But she was softening, allowing him to touch a part of her that not even he had touched before. She felt every breath as his chest rose and fell against her back. Oh, sweet Goddess, what could she do?

Sinbad inhaled quickly, trying to relax a bit. The red hair that had been covered by a hood shone despite the darkness. Sinbad slowly reached around and pulled the hood further down. He felt her resolve breaking down. He walked around to face her, but she refused to meet his eyes.Grimacing, he raised her chin, and stared into her eyes, assessing her looks. A barely visible scar grazed her hairline. Sinbad pressed his lips to it, and felt her shiver, though he doubted it was from the cold. Breathing in deeply, he bent his head, and kissed her. His lips met hers with such a furious passion that Maeve’s muddied boots trembled as her knees threatened to give out. Maeve began to respond, her kiss unsure, but nonetheless loving. The rain mixed with their tears as they began to respond to an emotion neither had ever really felt or experienced. Maeve gave a slight cry as her left wrist, where the scars of a ripped off bracelet were, began to glow in response to Sinbad’s. Sinbad deepened the kiss, using her outcry to slip his tongue into her mouth. Maeve felt herself go light-headed as a warmth spread from her head to her toes, the sensation of Sinbad’s body against her own making her weak, and he in turn became more protective of her. When they finally broke apart, the look in each other’s eyes made them cross a bridge. Maeve did something she hadn’t done in over a year. She forgot the abuse she had suffered; the humiliation, the pain, the fear. She reached deep within her and used her magick. She reclaimed Sinbad’s lips as they misted back to a conjured cabin. Sinbad had already reached for her laces when they were being transported. He trailed warm lips along her neck as his fingers fumbled with the laced up shirt. Maeve grabbed at his shirt, and struggled with the tight blue vest.

Finally succeeding, she reached for his tighter, white shirt. The hard muscles, such a contrast to her own, awakened a fiercer arousal inside of her. Sinbad broke off to pull his knife. Maeve stiffened for a minute, but relaxed as he hacked off the laces of her shirt.

As it fell open, Sinbad’s hands went to touch her breasts, but Maeve pulled away, turning her back to him so she could lock the door.Seeing her lock it, Sinbad yanked her back against his chest, her smooth, slender back pressed against him. Sinbad growled against her mouth as he kissed her hard, still not letting her turn. He trailed his fingers on her shoulder, following them with his lips and tongue. Maeve shuddered hard, and reached back to touch his hair. Sinbad pulled one side of her shirt open, then the other before gently turning her. Their lips met fiercely, the want and need within them desperate for release. Maeve moaned, feeling her gryphon part reacting to the explosiveness. She purred, both feminine and dangerous as she ran her hand down his chest. Reaching the waistband of his leather pants, Maeve tried to undo his belt, but her fingers were weak. Sinbad didn’t seem to mind too much as he scooped her up, tripping on the rug and falling, cushioning Maeve’s impact with his body.Maeve sighed as he ran long fingers down the curve of her back, gently avoiding the still raw scars underneath her soft shirt. She sat up, bringing Sinbad up with her as she straddled his waist. Sinbad stroked her as if he was touching a sensitive harp, gently and passionately. Maeve’s purr rumbled in her throat as he captured as hardened nipple in his mouth, giving her a warm pleasure.

Her red hair seemed to move sensuously between them, a silken red cloak that slid, slithered, and curled around their half naked bodies. Maeve’s chocolate coloured eyes widened as she felt a hardening in Sinbad’s body just beneath her own womanhood. Sinbad shifted slightly, moving to the other breast, suckling on one, teasing the other, and reaching for the belt of her pants. The friction in the two pairs of leather pants made them both gasp and moan. The sorceress pulled back to look Sinbad in the eye. Sinbad hissed at the movement, causing Maeve to grin impishly. She seductively wriggled her hips.

“You’ll kill me,” Sinbad growled at her, holding onto her hips.

“Maybe that’s the point,” Maeve commented as she stood up. Sinbad stared at her hard for a minute, watching as she struggled with her boots. Sinbad yanked off his boots and threw the immobile scabbard across the room. Sinbad looked back at the Irishwoman, taking her lush form in his gaze. The lust in his body cooled as he remembered that Maeve had been a maiden when she had been taken away, and was probably slightly scared. He got up, and made ready to go to her, to soothe her fears. But when he saw the scars through the wet material of her shirt, he sucked in his breath. Crisscrossed patterns decorated her back, burns made redder scars that lined her lower back. Sinbad fought back his rage, at the world and himself.

Allah! The sorceress had been subjected, as it was quite obvious, to many sorts of bizarre tortures. He remembered all to well of fearing for her when she had been placed on that cursed ship. A general, who had kept her overnight at his jail, had been rumoured to be sadistic. Plus the mutilated body of a young woman hadn’t improved his faith. He had been there earlier than usual, keeping an eye on the older man. Maeve had sat in the corner of her cell, brown eyes kept down. But Sinbad hadn’t doubted the fury within that soul. He barely believed that she still harboured trust in him to allow him to do this.Maeve obviously felt him looking at her when she turned around, pulling her shirt closed. Sinbad looked in to her eyes, fancying that he saw more than desire in those dark eyes. He reached out, as if afraid the she would disappear, and touched her left wrist with his left hand. Maeve glanced down in amazement as her red bracelet reappeared in its proper place. She felt the need to avoid Sinbad’s inevitable questions, and kissed him hungrily to avoid it. Sinbad leaned into her, all but smacking her back against the door. Maeve gasped as he descended his mouth to her mouth again, and Sinbad bent. Picking her up so she could wrap long legs around his waist, he walked to the bed. His shins hit the wood frame, causing him to break the kiss in pain, falling on top of Maeve. The sorceress stared up at him as he pulled them both up into the centre of the bed. They were feeling the need to comfort each other, and Maeve fully intended to do that.

Sinbad reclaimed her mouth, stroking her tongue with his in an unconsciously suggestive manner as his hands dove into her silky hair. The answer was Maeve’s shy, but innocently seductive kiss. Sinbad let his one hand travel down her chest, pausing to caress a breast. Lifting her upper body, he all but tore the white shirt off. He looked down at her, as if deciding where to start. He began at her neck, gave love bites to her heaving breasts, and then continued travelling south. When he reached her waistband, he opened the button, struggling with the clinging leather for a moment before succeeding. He looked down at her again, pausing briefly at the wrap that covered her womanhood. Maeve stared into his intense eyes,reaching down to undo the wrap. She kicked it roughly off the bed, and Sinbad’s breath came in with a hiss.

“Allah, you must be the most tempting woman ever.” Maeve became flush, and Sinbad watched with delight as it coloured the smooth marble of her face, stomach, and thighs. He bent down over her, kissing her sweetly as he touched her aching breast. Maeve had become accustomed to it, but was out of breath as his hand touched her even more intimately. Sinbad began to kiss his way down her body, and then…

“Sweet Goddess…” Maeve whispered, winding her long fingers in his hair. She began to cry out softly, first her deity’s, then his name, and then both in the same breath. The ache inside of her grew, and then hit a peak. Her body arched up, and she quivered as she came back out of her own heaven. Sinbad was chuckling as he came up her body. Maeve’s eyes were wider than ever as he kissed her.

“What…are…you doing…to me?” she whispered between breaths, staring up at him. Maeve somehow knew, but a part of her was so innocent that she was stunned. Sinbad placed himself so he was only a breath away from her.

“I’m teaching you what it is to be a grown woman.” He smiled down at her wistfully, tracing his left fingers over her breast. She moaned softly.

“Such a passionate little gryphon you are.” He bent to kiss her but found himself flat on his back, Maeve staring down at him from her place on his waist.

“Then teach me,” she growled at him softly. She bent to kiss him, trailing her hands down his body, copying him. Maeve trailed her tongue down his bare chest, taking less time than he did to get to his pants. She sat up, undoing the belt and pushing them down a bit easier than he had. She stared in open surprise, and perhaps a bit of fear as his “pride” all but sprang up. She curiously caressed him, causing him to groan loudly. She paused, unsure what to do, and Sinbad flipped her back over. He chuckled down at her.

“Later.” He began to caress her again, covering her body with his. He slowly touched her thighs, which were instinctively closed. The sorceress began to tense up as he parted her thighs with his knee. A small voice in the back of her head warned her that this might not be the safest thing to do. She pushed it away roughly, concentrating on the moment. He took the back of her head in his hands, staring into her dark eyes.

“It’s going to hurt the first time,” the frightened glaze in her eyes made him speak a bit faster, “but only this time. Maeve, you must trust me.” She didn’t nod but didn’t push him off either. He kissed her, harder than usual, thrusting a bit into her body, trying to avoid hurting her. Maeve’s fright became more evident as her hands shook and clutched against the skin of his back. Sinbad deepened the kiss and then thrust hard and deep into her, making her scream into his mouth. Maeve felt as if she was torn, she was so tense. Sinbad removed his mouth, looking down at her.

“It hurts,” she whispered.

“I know, love.”

“Then why in Hellfire are we doing this?” Sinbad smiled, and began to shift his hips a little. Maeve stayed still, feeling the stinging pain fade to an ache, an ache that she had when Sinbad had touched her with his hand and mouth. The sweat began to make their joined bodies slick, and Sinbad began to thrust a bit more. Maeve caught on to the rhythm, and moved her hips in unison, feeling the tension beginning squeeze. Maeve sobbed into the crook of his neck as she climaxed, but Sinbad had just started. He kissed down her neck as they began again, breaking off to look down at her.

“You okay?” he asked softly, pushing back the damp red hair that clung to her forehead. Maeve’s deep breathing increased as she nodded, her palms flat against his chest. He kissed her again, and then felt her nip at his ear. He chuckled as she began to cry out a bit louder, knowing that Maeve’s pent-up passions were making her climax again. Maeve relaxed, feeling as if she had died and gone to heaven. She looked over at were her bracelet was glowing, Sinbad’s fingers intertwined in hers. She imagined that a light came from Sinbad’s bracelet was joining with the light of her own, much like the sexual intimacy that the wearers were now in. Sinbad suddenly felt double pleasure, as if he was two different people. He looked down at Maeve, and saw the look in those deep eyes, the look of more than just lust. He bent down and kissed her again, trying to tell her what he was afraid of saying. The tension and pleasure began to squeeze deep within both of them. Maeve’s body arched up against as she cried out his name. Sinbad heard his own voice moan her name as she raked harmless nails down his back. He climaxed then, spending himself in her warmth. The consequence of what he had done hadn’t reached his mind yet.

He collapsed on top of her, heaving in an effort to calm his wildly pounding heart. He felt the beating of Maeve’s pulse, and looked up at her. Her hair was damp; long strands that stuck to her neck and forehead. Maeve looked back at him, her eyes quiet and relaxed. She reached up and touched his hair, pushing back the hair that stuck to his forehead. Sinbad rolled over, pulling her back against his chest, dislodging himself. In no way was either of them up for him to become aroused again. They both fell asleep almost immediately, the unison of their breaths making them feel relaxed. The warmth and protection Maeve felt in his arms made her trust that she could sleep. One thought ran through Sinbad’s mind as the warmth of his lover made him sleepy:Where does this lead?

Doubar watched in shock as Maeve and Sinbad’s wet embrace was seen in the veil of rain and mist. His eyes watered as he realized that the pair was possibly trying to redeem each other. Then, as quickly as the pair had come together, they disappeared in a gentle misting. Doubar’s bluish eyes blinked three times in astonishment at the empty space where his brother and Maeve had once been. He turned to the other crewmembers. Their jaws were close to slack and their eyes were wide. Firouz began to stutter, but Doubar turned them, shaking his head.

“Not now, they need to be alone.” Bryn, Firouz, and Rongar all nodded. “Let’s go get a warm tankard of ale to get this chill out of our bones.” In the back of his mind, Doubar felt a hopeful thought that maybe Maeve might return to the crew.

Maeve was lying on Sinbad’s chest when she woke up. Her eyes first saw the drizzling rain falling on the open windowsill. Her eyes travelled to the clothes that were strewn on a table and on the plush rug the covered the floor. Her sword lay beside another near the fireplace. Maeve shifted her eyes to look at the bed were she was lying. It was nice, plush even. Maeve’s eyes widened as she remembered something she had almost forgotten.

She looked at the masculine hand that was relaxed and on her waist. The covers that were draped on her lower half didn’t cover her upper back. She looked up in dread at Sinbad’s face. He appeared to be sleeping, she thought with relief. She slowly got up, trying to cover herself. Just as she had reached the bed’s edge, she was yanked back and was put under Sinbad’s harder body.

Maeve fought him hard, trembling with anger. She tried to form some magic, but only ended up having her hands pinned. She gave a shriek that was smothered by Sinbad’s hand. She stared at him in rage, her eyes spitting fire.

“Ah ah ah…”he said scornfully. “You’re going to answer a question before I even think about letting you up.” Maeve looked at him warily before nodding slowly.

“Why were you leaving?” Maeve’s eyes widened in shock that he had felt her leave. “Believe me, Maeve, I can feel a draft hit my body where there was something warm there before.” He removed his hand and waited patiently.

“I…I…I was going to stoke the fire,” she improvised quickly. Sinbad’s look told her that that was the lamest excuse she could have given.

“Maeve, don’t lie. You were running away before I could wake up. That’s cowardly, and you know it.” Maeve’s eyes flashed dangerously.

“It would take one to know one, Sinbad. You always disappeared in the morning before your latest conquest woke up.” Sinbad’s eyes were stricken, and he tried to speak. “Don’t bother,” Maeve snarled, “you sicken me, Sinbad. You’re worse than the men that rape children.” Sinbad’s hand rose suddenly as if to hit her. Maeve braced herself, but the blow never came.

“I’ve been tempted to strike you before, but never have I come so close as I am right now,” he whispered harshly, bring his face close to hers. Maeve swallowed hard. She didn’t want to hurt him,physically or mentally. What was wrong with her?

“Let me go. I need to think, Sinbad, I can’t…” Maeve’s heart broke when he pulled roughly off her. Yanking on his clothes, he growled out,

“Send me back to my ship, I have work to do.” Maeve choked back a sad sob. She waved her hand and misted Sinbad away. She looked at her clothes that were strewn.

“Goddess help me,” she whispered.

A blind light encompassed the young sorceress, and she opened her eyes to a garden that shone with a morning dew and sunrise. Maeve’s eyes widened at the beauty that surrounded her, gazing down at the dark green gown that covered her. Two women sat at a pool that shone crystal. One’s hair was a black blue cloak that reached her waist in a thick braid, and the other’s was a drape of red hair that was loose and free. Maeve gulped and slowly approached the pair. The red head looked up and smiled.

“Hello there, my Cauchalain,” she said with a voice like nightingale. Maeve almost saw herself in a mirror, if it not for her green eyes. The black haired woman also turned, and Maeve almost started at the sight. She looked like a female version of Dermott, except for the silver eyes that seemed slitted. She scrutinized Maeve like she was a breeding animal for sale.

“Oh, ugh, she’s been used.” Maeve’s face went red as the blush tinged her fair face. “And well used at that,” the woman said harshly. The red haired woman pinched the other.

“Hush, Morrigan! My word, you can be cruel,” the redhead snapped. Morrigan snarled at her.

“What? I hand out the laws and she breaks them, Medb! By Lugh, I wish that not all of your ‘chosen’ were so easy to get into bed!” Morrigan answered swiftly. Maeve’s temper got the better of her.

“Now just a minute! He was my first! I’m not the goddess that lays every man she wishes to destroy!” Maeve snarled at her. Morrigan’s eyes flashed, then she collapsed into fits of laughter.

“By Lugh, I’m glad you have some guts to speak to me thus!” Medb shook her head at her sister’s enjoyment and turned her gaze to a confused.

“So, it’s true.” Maeve nodded slowly to her goddess. “Did you not think of the consequences? If he impregnated you, it would taint the line!” Maeve flinched, but Morrigan came to her rescue.

“Maybe we need new blood in the line? What say you, lass, think you can become pregnant to strengthen our kind?” Morrigan said, meaning the last part as a joke.

“I am not a mare to be put to a stud for breeding!” Maeve yelled at her. Medb spoke to her kindly,

“She was joking, lass. For all we know, you could be with child right now.”

Maeve’s hand went to her stomach. Her eyes got the protective gleam that was often in a bear’s eyes. Morrigan gaped at her before turning to her sister.

“She is. Look at her, she’s already…”

“She cannot have the child. Every Cauchalain has had a relationship based on love, not a mere lust-filled night. Maeve has never said that she was in love with the man,” Medb commented. Maeve gasped and made ready to speak but Medb waved her tosilence, “Did you not feel hatred towards him?” Maeve nodded, “and did you not wish to leave shortly after?

“ I…” Maeve tried to think up the proper response when she got flashbacks:

-“What went wrong?” he asked before he could stop himself. Maeve’s eyes turned to him. “I’m just wondering why you hate me with such a passion.”

Maeve turned back to the landscape, and Sinbad took that as his dismissal, slowly walking away on the wall.

“You have it wrong,” Maeve suddenly said, causing him to turn around. She turned her eyes to him. “The opposite of love is indifference. Hate is a feeling of uncontrolled anger and bitterness.” Sinbad mutely nodded. -

Maeve remembered the times when the crew and her had saved lives, the way she could talk to any of them without judgement. Maeve closed her eyes as she remembered the times that Sinbad and her had just sat in each other’s company, how they saved each other’s lives, the first time they kissed, and the first time they made love. Reopening them, she looked at the two sister-goddesses.

“I love him.”

Doubar twisted the lines in hand as he secured them in the piercing light of sunset. Bryn was working on the other side, while Firouz help Rongar with the cargo. Doubar tried not to let the unsteadiness in his heart overcome him. He had seen Sinbad come into the tavern minutes before anyone else had yesterday. Foolishly, he had looked for Maeve to come in as well, but only the cold draft had greeted him. Sinbad had glared at his entire, rapidly sobering crew, and then began to bark orders at them, telling them to stop dawdling.

The first mate shook his head. Something bad had happened between the couple, that he could tell. Sinbad, even when he had been close to evil, had never acted so harshly to anyone. Only Dermott’s screeching had stopped Sinbad from striking one of them. Now here they were, working their fingers to the bone. A crewmember who had complained, was given his pay and items, and then was kicked off the ship.

Doubar sighed and stood up, his hand on his aching back. Peering up at the sun, he wiped his forehead, not enjoying the prospect of watch tonight. He was preparing to go down below and speak with Sinbad, when a glimmer of red caught his eyes. His eyes widened in shock at the sight of Maeve standing a few feet away. His mind went away as she said, “Hello, tubby.”

He laughed heartily and scooped her up in his arms. Maeve laughed with him. Dermott screeched his own welcome and caught Rongar’s attention. He signed to Firouz, and they both ran over, hugging Maeve tightly when they saw her. Dermott clucked and swooped down when she was free. As he settled on her bare arm, he nestled his head against her.

*You’ve come back. * He said softly. Maeve affirmative nod was heard and he continued, cocking his head to the side, * you’re happier. * Maeve smiled and released him to fly.

The cries of the hawk drew Bryn, and the two women assessed each other quietly. Maeve’s eyes, once harsh and cold, were soft and friendly. Bryn gave a shy smile. Her eyes travelled over Maeve’s body, focussing on Maeve’s stomach for a long minute, though her pants and shirt covered it. Maeve spoke first, “He loves you so much.” Bryn grinned boldly at the mention of Dermott’s and hers newfound relationship in the dream world.

“Aye, and I love him as well. Congratulations.” Maeve smiled her thanks but Doubar’s boisterous voice filled the air.

“Eh? Congratulations? For what?” he asked, looking sharply at the red-haired sorceress. Maeve hugged him tightly and whispered softly,

“Congrats, tubby. You’re an uncle.” Doubar whooped and swung her around, setting her on her feet as if she were a bird.

“An uncle!” he breathed. He liked the sound of that, he decided. Rongar and Firouz’s brows were lined with confusion. Maeve hugged them both to her.

“And you two are now godfathers.” The two pairs of eyes went wide with shock, then giddiness at the knowledge that they knew the father quite well. Maeve looked around the ship. “Where is Sinbad?” she asked quietly. Doubar shrugged.

“He was pretty angry when he came back this morning. He’s probably looking at some maps down below.” Maeve smiled at them and opened the door to the cabins.

Sinbad felt his eyes water for the millionth time in the day as he looked at the map. The blurred map loomed out at him. The sea, at least, always remained true to him. Sinbad used the compass to inspect how many leagues Baghdad was away. Grimly, he rubbed at his eyes, trying to recall every sense of rage within him. But nothing could get rid of her image from his head. Already he had tried to bed another woman, whatever her name was.

Late last night he had pulled her to her feet and allowed her to undress in her bedroom. The minute he saw her in only her chemise, he was filled with disdain. Her skin was too golden, her blonde hair shimmered like weakly coloured flax, and her eyes were a muddy brown. He had felt himself faltering, and had tried to grasp the situation, but ended up leaving, unsatisfied with hunger and desire that was deep in his soul and body. His nerves were raw with pain, his heart and eyes colder than ever before. To spite him, his mind kept replaying that night’s events. The innocent, yet seductive touch, the softness of Maeve’s body beneath his, the heat of the passion, and the pale skin that was such a contrast to his well-tanned body; his mind was befuddled, flame coloured hair entrapping his mind.

Sinbad shook his head hard. She didn’t want him, damn it! He should get on with his life, not be occupied with thoughts of a witch that didn’t know… A quiet knock interrupted his thoughts. He growled and threw open the door.

“What!” he demanded. Maeve stared back at him, her eyes calm. Sinbad almost lost his control at the ethereal vision before him. He regained his anger and glared at her. “What do you want?” he snapped, wanting to make her flinch, angry when he didn’t succeed.

“May I come in?” she asked politely. He sarcastically bowed to her. She turned to him when he had locked the door. “I wanted to apologize for what I did. I know that you’re angry…”

“ANGRY! Maeve, I am pissed off, I want to kill someone right now! Hell, I even want to ravish…never mind. You’re a learned woman, and you give it a little word like that?” he yelled at her. Maeve’s eyes snapped in fury.

“Alright, you’re enraged, furious, outraged, infuriated, incensed…shall I go on? No, allow me. You’re being such an ass that you didn’t notice that I came in peace. I want to apologize, for what I did. I…I…I had time to think and…” Sinbad decided to cut her off before he actually began to pity her.

“What are you trying to say? I have maps to read.”

“What the hell is it going take to get you to forgive me?” Maeve insisted exasperatedly. Sinbad snarled sarcastically.

“A hell of a lot more than ‘oh, I’m sorry, Sinbad, for leading you around by your heart.’” A frown appeared on Maeve’s brow.

“What are you saying?”

“Oh, in the name of Allah! Maeve, I was in love with you for so long and you were so blind that you couldn’t notice,” Sinbad said wearily as he faced away from her. Maeve looked him from the side.

“If I said that I loved you as well…would that help?” she asked curiously. Sinbad wheeled about, grabbing her roughly by the arm, dragging her to him. He looked down at her and smirked.

“If it came down to it, you’d deny it,” he stated challengingly. Allah! If she backed down or accepted, he’d know half the truth. She raised an eyebrow and looked at him.

“Try me.” Sinbad pushed her down on the desk aggressively and looked at her scathingly.

“Is that a challenge, witch?” he asked.

“Yes.” Sinbad looked at her in shock before staring into her eyes hard. She was trembling beneath him, and the skin of her arm was warm and flushed. He dipped his head and cruelly kissed her. Maeve answered with a fierce passion, her hands creeping up around his neck. Sinbad felt her tongue press against his and the kiss was made more violent. Maeve knew in the back of her mind that he was testing her, to see how much she might care for him. Maeve bit his lip enough for it to sting and he pushed back from her. Maeve stood up next to him, her eyes a darker brown as she pulled his shirt off. It was like undressing a rock of some kind. Looking up at him, Maeve saw a cool expression. Maeve kissed him deeply, and trailed her tongue and teeth down his cool skin. Heat patches decorated his body wherever she travelled. She felt the skin her hands were pressed against tremble, and looked up. Sinbad’s eyes were blankly staring at ahead. Maeve stood and turned to the bed. She sat down, and straightened herself. She closed her eyes, focussing on her feelings.Maeve’s desire was overturning her will, and she pushed at Sinbad’s own desire. She felt resistance and gave it such a shove that she felt a thin coat of anger as well. Maeve was unable to brace her against any attack that would occur.

The sorceress was suddenly pressed back onto the bed, which gave a squeak of protest at the violent movement. Maeve opened her eyes once again and suppressed a shriek of shock. Sinbad’s mouth descended on hers. Perhaps it was the desire to have Sinbad inside her again, or perhaps it was her love for him, but either way, Maeve became more aroused by the feel of Sinbad’s body on her.

Sinbad didn’t know why he felt the urge to grab this young woman. Maeve’s magick, which he had seen entrap him with red tendrils, had shoved at his emotions. He had suddenly felt an instant lust and anger towards the Irish woman. Desire began to run hotly through his body as he landed on top of the lithe, soft body. As he began to tug on the thin shirt, he felt Maeve’s hands wandering to touch the increasing bulge in his pants. He tried to ignore her teasing touch, but there was no doubt that she was succeeding. He bit into her neck as a groan nearly escaped him. Maeve was beginning to recognize this as a game of power. She watched as Sinbad’s head dipped down, biting at her pale skin. The flush gave her nipples a dusky hue; the peaks hardening as Sinbad’s head dipped even further to suckle upon one. Maeve was unable to contain the deep moan of lust that came from her as his left hand kneaded the other breast. Sinbad grinned against her pale flesh. He opened her shirt further, and began to snake his hand down her flat stomach, reaching underneath her tight pants to caress the moist centre that awaited him.

Hardly one to be over done, Maeve hooked her leg underneath his own and threw herself on top of his. Sinbad’s idea of a protest was to try to push her off, but was greeted with his arms being pinned down by the powerful sorceress. She stared down at him like he had done to her. Her look was one of satisfaction. Maeve casually released his wrist and rested her chin on his chest. She traced a curious pattern along his chest, glancing at his face. He was pertaining a look of boredom, and it irritated Maeve. Lightly, she raked her oval nails over his small nipple before bending down to kiss it. Sinbad felt her flick her tongue and coughed harshly. Maeve pulled away and blew lightly across one nipple, grinning as Sinbad’s hands clenched. She repeated the action to Sinbad’s other nipple, nipping at the hardening bud before blowing across it. This time Sinbad did groan, ever solightly, in his throat. Maeve smirked at him as her hands touched the bulge between his legs. Sinbad’s breath hissed out again. Maeve nipped and licked at the line of hair that trailed south, causing Sinbad to shift.

She murmured up at him, “Forgiven yet?” The look he shot her was one of annoyance.

“Not even close.” Maeve sighed and waved a hand over their bodies, making their clothes shimmer and disappear. Sinbad stared at Maeve’s pale flesh quite openly, and Maeve couldn’t help but flush a bit. Sinbad said nothing, but closed his eyes and pretend to sleep. Nothing happened for a short while, and he was about to give up on Maeve when he felt something warm and moist enclose his manhood. His eyes bugged out as he realized that Maeve was about to succeed in her campaign for forgiveness. Maeve made a murmuring sound as she tasted and tantalized him, allowing her hands to explore his body as she concentrated on his erect manhood. Gently, he kneaded the back of her skull as the pleasure zapped throughout his body. The teasing patterns she was making were inexperienced, but damn! She was certainly making up for many things! Maeve felt his hardening, and began to add a bit more suction and pressure. She was getting into the rhythm when she heard a low, animalistic growl come from Sinbad. Her hair was yanked quite hard, and she felt Sinbad lifting her hips as he moved into her. Maeve’s initial shock was lost as the sensation overwhelmed her body. Her brow broke out in sweat as Sinbad moved her hips over his. Sinbad rose up a bit so he cradled Maeve. Lightly, he raked his teeth down her shoulder to her right breast. Maeve moaned at the tension in her body. The rocking motion of their bodies moved faster as their lovemaking began to reach its peak. Maeve tried to speed up to reach her own climax, but Sinbad’s grip on her hips held her still, forcing her to almost cry out. Sinbad flipped her onto her back, and started to pull out. Maeve gritted her teeth and clenched her inner muscles around his shaft, making him hiss. He looked down at her and pinned her arms above her head. The slickness between them betrayed Maeve and he held off so he was just at her entrance. Maeve locked her legs around his hips, trying to push him back inside her, but he held off, rubbing the head of his shaft against the tiny nub of pleasure that had become visible.

“Sinbad…please…” Maeve begged. Sinbad could tell that she was humbling herself by saying please, and stared down at her.

“Deny it,” he gritted between his teeth. Maeve sobbed harshly as the unfilled feeling became increasingly painful, and fixed her eyes to his. Reaching beneath his pillow with a free hand, she pulled out a dagger. Sinbad froze, and watched in mild surprise as she drew a small line on her neck. She offered her neck to him. Sinbad’s eyes became moist as he looked into those trusting eyes.

“By the blood I offer you, I swear by my honour that my love for you will never question itself.” Sinbad gave a groan as he sank himself deep inside of his lover. Maeve’ moaned in satisfaction as she felt him against the walls of her womanhood. Sinbad felt Maeve’s climax beginning as he felt her walls clench around him. Groaning deeply, he allowed himself to spend in her warmth. He heard Maeve cry out his name and he joined her as the hill they had been climbing suddenly shot them downwards. His thrusts ended as his climax came upon him.

“I love you,” he whispered hoarsely into the crook of her neck.

They trembled against one another for a long time. Sinbad tenderly kissed the healing cut on her neck, the relaxed lids of her eyes, and the snake designs on her slim wrists, avoiding the bulkiness of her bracelet. Maeve sighed heavily, and felt sleep steal up on her. Sinbad cuddled himself around her, creating a soft enclosure with the warmth of their bodies and the heavy quilt he had pulled up. Maeve felt her eyes begin to shut.

“I have…to tell…you something…” she whispered and fell asleep abruptly.

Maeve awoke to the light sound of waves. Startled, she shot up in bed. She was in Sinbad’s cabin, in his bed, and underneath his linens. Maeve looked for his clothes, and saw only his shirt. Maeve immediately began to think of where she might find him. On a new ship just to avoid her? No, he would never do that. The tavern? No, there’s only serving girls…Maeve shot up again and looked for her clothes. Her brow frowned as she realized that they were missing. Hastily, she crawled under the bed, looking at the shadowed areas to try and see if they were somewhere under the bed. She never heard the door enter, nor the sound of soft steps.

“Well, well…here I was, expecting to see a spitfire awaiting me with at least one of my shirts on. Instead, here’s a beautiful nymph with the best looking rear end I have ever seen,” stated a mocking voice. Maeve gasped in shock and whacked her head on the bed. She scrambled out and quickly pulled a sheet around her nudity. Sinbad was dressed as he had been only with his hair recently cut, and what was more, he was shaved. Maeve tried not to stare too openly.

“I thought that…perhaps…” Sinbad glanced at her from where he was taking off his boots.

“I had to make sure we where in the middle of the sea,” he replied nonchalantly. Maeve frowned.

“What? Why…” the look he shot her made her understand. “Oh.”

“After all, I see no reason to let my future wife to go somewhere without me,” he stated simply. Maeve’s look of shock made him grin, as he took off his pants, settling down in the bed, and he pulled her against his chest.

The quilt helped warm his wet body. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot to propose.”

“Why…how…” Maeve stuttered.

“Very simple. You said you loved me, and I love you. We’ve made love quite nicely, you’re invited, of course, onto the crew, and our friends will approve.” Maeve’s jaw dropped and she elbowed him playfully. “All right, all right. Maeve, love of my life, will you allow the traditions of our cultures to be cast aside so we may join in marriage?” he asked seriously, looking down at her. Maeve brushed away a few tears and nodded. He broke out in a smile and hugged her to his body.

“I think we should get some more sleep before we mention this to the crew. I’m exhausted.” Sinbad grinned wickedly.

“Nice to know I still have the touch.” Maeve raised an eyebrow defiantly.

“Oh, nice to know I can get you pretty ready for any bouts within seconds,” she answered boldly. Sinbad shook his head. He thought she was asleep when he heard her speak quietly.

“To think, our family in the crew is eight,” Maeve whispered. Sinbad groggily answered,

“Seven, Maeve. Let’s count: Bryn, Dermott, Doubar, Firouz, Rongar, you and me. Seven.” He looked down at her, and saw a protective gleam in her eyes.

“No way.” She nodded.

“I was thinking of Skye.” Sinbad was still getting over his shock but he answered cockily,

“It’ll probably be a son. We sailors are noted for our way with getting sons.” Maeve kissed him harshly and pushed him down on the bed.

“It’ll be a daughter, my love.” She nibbled on his ear, and covered his body with hers. She bit his lip, and suppressed a smile when she heard him answer,

“I yield to your superior knowledge, my sorceress.” She lowered her lips and captured his lips in a passionate kiss.