Thick drops of blood dripped unhurriedly down Bette’s hand, like honey trickling from an upside-down spoon… a steady flow… drip…drip…drop… red crimson running down her fingers from a deep gash on her arm, now gaping open.

Tina told her to leave it for now, so she did, too tired to do anything other than lean forward wearily in her seat, elbows on her knees, head hanging. Sweat trickled from her forehead to join the blood on the floor and Bette watched as they pooled, fighting the desire to close her eyes, exhaustion weaving through her body like an intricate spider web, her very bones cement. Her vision wavered for a moment and she blinked, suddenly irrationally fixated on the mosaic of red between her feet.

Red contrasted nicely with the dark mahogany wood of the boat and her thoughts wandered aimless to all the blood shed on this day, her own and others, and all the blood spilled in her time as marauder and crusader of the seven seas. The deaths, the treasure, the song of steel.

Bare feet materialized in her line of vision, stepping carefully to avoid the blood on the floor, and Bette knew those toes, knew the soft fingers now lifting her chin gently, and she was glad she kept her eyes open for looking down at her were eyes the color of sea foam, kind eyes, eyes that belonged to Tina.

Her wife.

Her most important, her very reason, her haven, the epicenter of her world… and suddenly she felt a lump form in her chest, lodging there painfully. Blood fell today, like rain, but now… now… Tina was here. Fucking Safe.

“Tee…” she whispered quietly, so quietly it was like a whisper in the wind, but she knew Tina heard by the way she bit her lip, her eyes going impossibly soft. They just looked at each other, a gaze loaded with the events of the day, terrible events sitting between them, a heavy stone, a wrecking ball, a massacre. The ugliness, the violence, the sheer brutality, the many and more deaths.

“Babe…” Tina’s eyebrow rose, and the brunette felt fleetingly soothed for that eyebrow could solve just about anything. Her voice was just as quiet, a blanket over the hurts… “I know you’re tired, Honey. I know you need to sleep. And eat. I just want to see if there is anything serious, ok?”

Boarding another ship in conquest was not the first approach Bette took when the opportunity struck. She was usually more careful, often meticulous in her planning, her attack almost choreographed… preferring stealth, sabotage or surrender. Poison worked, murder always an option.

Bribery or trickery was entertaining for her inner circle and overwhelming the target her favorite. Once she simply walked onboard and killed the captain, slitting his throat while his First Mate stood there in shock, his own fate no less messy. But she was unknown then, her reputation not yet legend status, her ability to move undetected easier. Now ships ran from her, castles boarded tight when she was within range, no one trusted her, her every move had to be careful.

She thought back to the fateful day long ago when she boarded a ship flying the flag of Kennard, a fat, loaded vessel that moved sluggishly through the waters with no escort or guard. When they first sighted the ship, she almost decided to let it pass by, only changing her mind at the very last minute, bored with the endless sailing.

She did so without even a cursory meeting with her inner circle to plan the attack. Hindsight being what it was, this turned out to be the best decision she ever made.

“Be ready, Tee…” she spoke suddenly, into the quietness of the cabin as she watched her wife dress for the attack.

She loved this part of the day. The way Tina transformed from a sensual, creamy, vision of delights to one of the crew, her boots knee high and her belt wide over her tan pants. Buttoning up the front of her shirt, Tina made eye contact and Bette sighed.

She loved watching her wife get dressed, but not as much as she loved watching her undress.
“I will be, Honey.”

“Be ready for a fight, for ugliness, for anything. Blood will be shed today.”

“I know, Babe. You tell me these things before any fight. I am a hardened warrior by now. I will be ready.”

Chuckling, Bette reached for her, pulling the blonde to stand in front of the chair where she sitting, her own fingers taking over the buttons, pausing to run the over the swells underneath.

One by one they followed The Poisoner into the darkness of the castle entryway, the light from behind them put into shadows as bodies crowded the entryway. It was pitch black, deathly quiet and their soft boots made no sound on the stones as they entered cautiously, straining to listen for any indication of what lay within.

Waiting until everyone filed in, pressing against the walls, Dana closed the door behind them, sealing them in, the click sounding much louder in the quiet than it needed to be. This was followed by the sound of flint on steel, a spark of light flashing and the crew got the first view of the inside of the castle as Shane hoisted the lantern higher, casting light but creating shadows.

Sighing, Bette’s heart filled her throat. There was nothing special about their first view of the castle. The walls were circular, cool water dripping down the sides, the stone old with patches of moss growing around the edges of the door and in the crevices. Curving to the right, the silence was oppressive in the tunnel, a tomb, a coffin, a empty vessel.

Keeping her wife directly next to her, one arm across Tina’s torso protectively, Bette’s eyes scanned her surroundings even as her ears picked up the sound of… nothing, her own heartbeat pounding in her ears as her eyes narrowed.

It was as she expected, it had been too easy. Motioning to Carmen with two fingers, Bette gave the go-ahead to move forward and so they did… slowly, Bette and Tina now hand in hand, her wife’s smaller hand giving the brunette a sense of peace as always, the warmth of it, what it meant to have someone to hold on to, the stillness in the castle floating around them to land like a heavy cape. The hallway opened to a larger room and Carmen stopped, turning so fast, Tina took a step back.

“There’s no one here…”

“I know. I knew the moment we entered. Search anyway. Everywhere. Now. Quickly. Shane, light some of these fucking torches so we can fucking see…”

The men dispersed in groups of two, no longer hiding their movements, hallways filling with the sound of boots on stairs echoing in the air, doors opening and closing, the small castle now humming with activity. Chests were opened, looted quickly, rooms searched, the castle small and airy with large stained glass windows and nothing but empty rooms.

Huddled in her long black coat, Bette stood at the rail at the top of her ship, on the Captain’s deck. Alone, for now. The wind blew and tugged at her clothes, tangling her curls and pulling on her sleeves… not yet able to penetrate the thick wool of her coat. It was a cool wind… a howling, grouchy wind… perfect for a silent siege or killing knife in the dark.

Perfect for betrayal.

It was a wind that matched how she felt inside. Howling, she felt like screaming… like she was at a pivotal point in her life. Decision time. Her hair blew furiously, obscuring her eyes from time to time but still she stood, motionless, overlooking the sea, her thoughts a jumble.

It was a black night, an ominous night, a night that offered only a sliver of the moon to see by. Black as midnight, black as a shadow in the night, a thief, an intruder. Sleep eluded her, this the second night in a row. Not even the warmth of her wife’s body could lull her to sleep, not this night, nor the night before. Earlier, they set anchor to stop all progress, Bette not wanting to be blown off course. They would reach the port of Edge City on the morrow, the last stop before they set sail for her mother. For Gigi. For battle. Come what may.

Whirls and swirls of thoughts occupied her brain as she turned the battle plan over in her head again and again, looking for gaps, for something she might have missed. Over and over ad nauseam. Inside out and upside down. Alice would be in port to meet them and there Bette would punish the Rascal for betraying her, something she should have done long before now. But something stayed her hand. It scared her… this lack of … drive… this lack of interest, why did she wait? Punishment for betrayal normally meant The Rascal would be a gruesome spectacle. So why does he sit in her barge singing endless songs of fair maidens and gold? Fucking why indeed.

It scared her because she felt so… tired. Weary even. Exhaustion hunted her like a predator in the night. Was she tired of the fighting? Or was it the pain from her recent injuries, the frantic running from one escapade to another? Maybe it was the injury to her ribs, maybe it was having a family now… and maybe it was a combination of all that weighed on her.

The morning after their wedding night came softly, on tiptoes, the clouds covering enough of the rising sun to mute the light, wrapping the water in a blanket. Had they been up on the captain’s deck, they would have seen the mist that danced and swirled above the green seas, hints of orange and pink from the sunrise still lingering, not yet ready to leave. Life began to wake up all around the ship, something underwater making a ripple, morning birds searching for little fish on the surface, larger predators not yet moving.

Waking, Bette reached for Tina instantly… wanting her, needing her… her wife. Just thinking those words made her smile. They woke up cuddly and affectionate, a long bath after lovemaking the night before scenting Tina’s skin so she smelled like a wildflower garden, the kind of garden that invites you in for a closer look, the kind with wandering paths and hidden delights. A garden to meander in, to breathe deep of all the color and splendor. A garden Bette was drawn to like a bee to the nearest flower, going from petal to petal to inhale the scent, to kiss the softness.

She couldn’t get the vision from last night out of her head… the vision of Tina above her in the wedding dress, the sexiness filling every brain cell, every thought, every second … making her almost lightheaded with desire. Coupled with the fact that they were now married… well… Bette was a goner.

They lingered in bed, whispering, kissing, dozing a little. For her part, Tina couldn’t stop smiling, her grin turning to laughter more than once, her heart swelling to an almost impossible size, blooming with Bette’s love, her gentleness, her obvious happiness.

As the sun gained strength and movement from the ship began to increase in sound as the crew woke, their kisses deepened, becoming so slow they were almost languid, so tender that their lips almost seemed as one. With Tina on top, Bette pulled her wife higher, making her slow way under the creamy, beautiful body, her tongue teasing, enticing, possessive. Guided by the moans coming from her wife, Bette took her time, waiting…

…waiting only long enough for Tina to finally turn around and spread her legs above her, Bette watched as her wife lowered herself so their torsos lined up beautifully. Impatient, she lifted her head so her mouth could make contact… the first taste of Tina as her wife… even as Tina teased Bette’s wetness with her tongue… was there anything better than starting a day, a marriage, a lifetime like this? Inside the person who is the center of your world, even as she brings you to climax?