Titel: Home
Sprache: Englisch
Summary: Seit dem Maeve über Bord ging hat sich einiges auf der Nomad verändert. Doch jetzt kommt sie wieder.
Category: Romanze
Rating: Ohne Altersbeschränkung
Status: Fertig
Too long—I have been gone too long. The ship has changed, the people have changed. My Sinbad has changed.
I knew it the moment I looked into those oceanic eyes of
his. My connection with him is still there, but it has grown weak from
those years of disuse. He is my light, my love, and here he is, reduced nearly
to the dark state of those he fought. The light in his
eyes has nearly gone out…and I know I am the cause.
Oh, I hated looking him in the eyes! I almost
couldn’t—those eyes of his asked a million questions that I never had any hope
of
answering. Why did you do this to me? Why did you leave? Didn’t you see how much
I cared…how much I loved you?
Look what your absence has done to me! The worst part was that there was no
accusation at all in his piercing blue gaze. His
eyes bored into me with his unanswerable questions but, though I felt waves of
guilt and remorse for leaving him so abruptly like
I had, there was no accusation anywhere in his eyes. Just those horrible
questions and, burning behind them like a fire slowly
dying for want of attention, was a wounded love…a love for me.
Allah, I called silently to his god, why has he not
abandoned me and gone on to foster his attentions on another? Even
when I was here, I was sullen and closed. I did not let him near me, did not
tell him how I felt or give him any opening
to talk to me about how he felt. And when I left him… Why does my memory live on
in him still? But my questions, like
Sinbad’s, went unanswered.
There was another with them, a girl too young for her old,
old eyes and too old for her delicate innocence. At first I wondered
if that wounded-puppy look was all for show, but then I realized that was simply
her character. Yet all the sailors respect
her…I can see in her eyes that no one’s tried to throw her overboard. I don’t
think she could emotionally live through such an
attack on her gender. I see that respect they give her…it’s the respect I won
from them. They won’t heckle women on board
the Nomad anymore.
Dermott was with her. I can feel something he’s hiding
from me…he has become quite protective of his temporary mistress. I
suppose there is something about her that would make men want to protect her.
She’s so tiny, and at times she can look so
damn lost and pitiful… I don’t want to like her—I know she has feelings for
Sinbad—but I can’t help but pity her situation. To
be wandering aimlessly about the seven seas with no home to return to…all
because she’s lost her memory… I never had a
home to return to, either, but at least I knew what I wasn’t missing. That
feeling of not-knowing must be awful.
My Doubar isn’t as jolly, either. I don’t see as many new
Firouz-inventions as I thought I would. Rongar seems quieter, more
off in his own world. Am I just imagining it? Is time merely taking its toll on
these people? Or is it something else…? No, I can’t
think that I am the cause of this change in the crew. I was with them for a
year, no more. Who am I to presume that my
absence changed something between the rest of them? I’m simply me.
The Nomad, thankfully, looks nearly the same. A smaller
storage room has been changed into a cabin for the girl. I don’t know
why Sinbad didn’t just put her in my old cabin…another question to ask him when
next we meet. I didn’t know if I would be
welcome here…I still don’t know if I’ll stay…it all depends on certain things…
Someone knocks on the door. I look up from my sword, which
I had been in the middle of polishing. Sinbad seemed a little
sheepish when he gave it back to me earlier…as if he’d been embarrassed for me
to find out he’d kept it with him and taken
care of it like it was his own. I was surprised he had done so, but I’m
definitely thankful he did. This old blade has never been
so well taken care of, though it’s been a prized family heirloom for four
generations. "Come in," I call, trying to keep my voice
pleasant and calm. I have learned a lot while in Master Dim-Dim’s care the past
two years, and there’s no point in falling back
into bad habits now. I don’t need the cover of cold impersonality anymore…I
hope.
It’s Sinbad. Somehow, I think I knew it would be. He pokes
his head around the door and smiles hesitantly before stepping all
the way in and latching the door behind him. I don’t quite know what to say—I
can feel my face and hands getting warm from
the way he’s looking at me with those deep, piercing eyes of his.
"I wanted to talk to you," he says quietly. I try to look
away, but his eyes are drawing me in as if they could capture me just by
staring at me hard enough. They’ve turned colder…but I can still see the warm,
friendly Sinbad behind that almost pirate gleam.
He’s changed all around—his clothes, his hair, everything. I don’t like it.
I nod in response to his statement. What is there to say?
I want to talk to you, too? What the hell have you done to yourself?
Where’s the Sinbad I know? He sits down next to me on my bed—he’s so close I can
reach out and touch him if I want
to…which I do, but not right now. I want to hear what he has to say.
Those blue eyes draw me in…I swear I could drown in them
easier than I could in the ocean outside. He raises a hand as if he
wants to touch my face, but then he lets it fall again. "Maeve…" he says, and
his voice is barely audible. I wait for him to speak
again. If there’s one thing Master Dim-Dim tried to teach me while I was with
him, it was patience. If there’s two, the second
would be forgiveness.
"Maeve, I can hardly believe you’re here again," he
whispers. The end of that sentence is half of a breathy laugh, but it’s more a
laugh of relief and astonishment than anything else. "I…when that wave took you
away I thought for sure you were dead. Then
when Dim-Dim told us you were alive and safe, I thought for sure our paths would
never cross again, or if they did that you’d
be going your way and we’d be going ours…I never dared hope that we’d get
another chance…that I’d get another chance."
I swallow hard. Is Sinbad really saying what I think he is
saying? I look deep into his eyes, so shaded now by disappointment
and heartbreak, and old anger and fear. There was much he feared, and there was
much that made him angry. Turn away
from the anger and fear, I urge him silently. Your Allah knows I know what I’m
talking about! They’re not worth your
life…they’re not worth your soul. But of course, I don’t say it out loud and he
doesn’t hear me.
"Maeve," he says again, "I promised myself that if I ever
got another chance to tell you this, I’d take it and I wouldn’t hesitate
one moment more. Maeve, I love you."
I open my mouth to say something, but he gently sets two
fingers against my lips and goes on. "Just a minute, Maeve, let me
finish. I love you." He takes a deep, shaky breath and runs his fingers through
his hair, which has grown even longer and looks
like it is in need of a good wash. "I know I’m not the person I was when you
knew me before. You’re probably not the exact
same person I remember, either. But that doesn’t matter to me. I have to tell
you so you’ll know, no matter what comes after. I
love you. I died when you left…it was as if I didn’t know how to go on anymore.
I knew I cared deeply about you, but I never
knew how much I depended on you until you suddenly weren’t there anymore. I’d
look around the ship to see you…and I
couldn’t find you. I’d wait for you to come on deck like you so often did and
stand at the bow of the ship, but of course you
wouldn’t because you weren’t here." He leans in closer, his eyes boring holes
through my soul. "I’m sorry, Maeve, but I had to
tell you. I couldn’t have lived without letting you know how I feel. I don’t
know what you’ve been through these past two
years, but I want you to know that no matter what, I love you in this moment and
I always will."
I can feel tears burning in the back of my eyes, but I
refuse to let them fall. Not right now. I lean forward and close the gap
between us, resting my forehead against his. "Sinbad," I whisper, "you have
changed." I run a hand through his hair before
cupping his face in both my hands, running my thumbs along the smooth skin above
his stubbly chin. "And so have I. There is
much I have learned since I had to leave; about myself, and about other people
as well. I’ve learned that I can’t live my life like
I was trying to live it—without other people. I need people in my life to lean
on when I just can’t do it myself." I take a breath;
this is the part I have the most trouble vocalizing. "I need you."
A sudden exultation of warm air tells me Sinbad has been
holding his breath throughout my revelation. I smile
gently. "I love
you, too, Sinbad. I just haven’t been able to admit it before, not even to
myself. Do you know how much I hated being
separated from you?" I glance down. "Sometimes I’d just go and sit on the beach,
hoping that if I wished hard enough that I’d
see the silhouette of the Nomad appear on the horizon. How awful is that!" I
laugh breathily, and the captain of the Nomad
returns my laugh. "Throughout those two years, Dim-Dim tried to teach me how to
trust, how to let go of my hate and anger.
What he didn’t realize was that you’d already given me my first lessons in that.
You taught me more than Dim-Dim ever hoped
to, Sinbad. You taught me how to love."
His hands reach up, then, and I feel him trace the
contours of my face with a light, almost reverent touch. I let go of his face
and
drop my hands so they rest in the crook of his elbows. One of his hands tangles
itself in my hair, cupping the nape of my neck
gently as he brings his face forward to mine. My eyes flutter closed as I feel
his gentle kiss, something I’d been hoping for and
longing for ever since the last time we’d kissed, after defeating the Vorgon.
And as his lips touch mine, I know I could never
leave again. We are bound together now, no matter what anybody else says. He is
my sailor, and as much as I hate to admit it,
he’s nabbed himself a sorceress. This is where I belong.
Late that night, as I lie in my bed—my bed, which I
haven’t been in for two years—comfortably curled around a slumbering
blue-eyed sailor, I let the tears come. They aren’t tears of pain, or sorrow.
They are tears of relief, of joy. Joy that I have finally
been able to tell Sinbad how I feel, and that he feels the same. Relief that I
have returned to tell him this before the pain and
anger he feels consumes him fully. I tighten my grip on him slightly, almost as
if touching him can renew the hold I know I have
on his heart. I saw it in his eyes. The healing process has begun.
There will definitely be some changes around here. First
off, my captain is going somewhere—anywhere—to get a decent
haircut and a shave. Then we’re going to find his old clothes, or something that
looks like his old clothes, and I’m going to burn
this rediculous outfit he’s wearing… Just wait, sailor…you dared to change on
me, now I get to change you back!
His arms tighten around me in response to my movement. I
look up from where my head has been resting on his chest, and I
see those beautiful shining eyes awake and gazing at me with the most rapt
expression I’ve ever seen…
"What are you thinking?" he asks me, a little half-smile
on his face. He raises one hand and traces the tear-stains that have
nearly dried up on my skin. Instead of answering, I decide to ask him a question
that’s been bothering me since I’ve been back.
"Sinbad, why didn’t you give that girl my cabin when she
came on board?" I ask. Bryn! I chide myself. I have to start calling
her Bryn!
My love’s face becomes serious again. "Because this is
your cabin. After you left, I couldn’t bring myself to move your
things…and I didn’t want her going through them. I know it’s silly, but…"
I silence him with a passionate kiss, after which I lay
back down against him, feeling his arms wrap around me once more. I
snuggle into his warmth and close my eyes, though I’m not really tired. Sinbad
takes the hand I’ve stretched out over his chest
and cups it in his own, running his thumb over the smooth skin on my palm.
"Things are going to be different now, aren’t they?" he asks. "You’re a full sorceress now, right?"
"Mm-hm," I say. "But don’t worry—my aim is as good as ever."
He chuckles, and I can feel him smile. "That’s a relief…so what do we tell the guys?"
"About what?"
He grins again—he knows I know what he’s talking about. "I
mean, about us. They’ll have questions…can I tell them I tamed
myself a sorceress?"
It’s my turn to grin. I raise my head and give him a
wicked smile. "Only if I can tell them I tamed myself a sea captain…Sinbad,
no less, Master of the Seven Seas."
He laughs, his
dimples reappearing even through that disgusting stubble. "Maybe we should just
let them figure it all out on their own," he says. By now I can tell by the
sound of his voice that he’s getting sleepy. I kiss him again, loving the fact
that I can do that whenever I want, and snuggle down into his warmth. His arms
tighten around me, and soon he falls asleep. I’ve tamed me the Master of the
Seven Seas, I think, but then I smile ruefully. I don’t want the Master of the
Seven Seas, I want Sinbad.
I’ve touched the elusive inner core of him, the special part of Sinbad that few
get to see. I smile again, a real smile, and close my eyes. Here, in Sinbad’s
warm, protecting arms, I’ve found home.