Alwyn

A cool early morning breeze infused with the scent of citrus, sand, and sea swirled through the streets of the city. A blue moon wavered in and out of clouds overhead. Tree branches whispered together, a soft melody. Alwyn followed Wilder through a narrow alley, her body tense and ready, despite the soothing atmosphere around them.

At the alley entrance, Wilder paused and peeked out. In a breath, he whirled around, pushing Alwyn further into the shadows and against the wall. He plastered himself next to her, his hand on her stomach, keeping her pinned. Alwyn held her breath as her heart spiked with adrenaline.

A trio of guards strolled by the alley, moonlight glinting off their spear tips. Their low conversation was filled with the harsh burr of the North Isles. A strange thought of how gentle Wilder's accent was in comparison flitted through Alwyn's mind.

Even when the guards walked out of sight, Wilder held her there. A minute passed. He nodded and dropped his hand. Alwyn almost forgot he'd had it there in the first place. They crept forward and Wilder peered around the building's edge. Despite their short partnership, Alwyn knew the street was clear by the way Wilder shifted his stance.

Right then she understood how others willingly followed him, not only did his voice command attention, but his entire body commanded it. She tried to think of how she held herself but all she could think of was how rigid with frustration she'd always been. She knew she was graceful with a sword but it seemed that had never translated over to authority.

Wilder darted into the street, Alwyn right behind him. They wove their way through the city slipping in and out of dark alleys, their footsteps syncing together, becoming one sound.

When they reached the bell tower at the heart of the city, Wilder slowed their pace. They eased out of the narrow lane, keeping to the shadows as they approached the tower. They crossed a courtyard, moonlight revealing them for a moment before they found sanctuary in the darkness again.

"Do I need to pick the lock?" Alwyn whispered.

Wilder shook his head. "No. It's left unlocked in case of emergency, but there will be a guard."

Wilder looked through the window. With a nod, he crept to the door and cracked it open. Alwyn heard the low whistle of a snore. They crept inside, spotting a guard asleep in his chair, a lantern illuminating the foyer of the tower. Wilder guided Alwyn to an archway across the room. She peered up but the lantern light couldn't penetrate the darkness above.

"Keep close to the wall," Wilder said.

Shaking away the cold dread that slithered into her veins over climbing into blackness, Alwyn touched the wall with her fingertips, brushed her other hand along the railing, and trailed behind Wilder.

The rough stone of the wall kept Alwyn grounded as they climbed higher and higher. There was nothing around them but the endless darkness. Even their boots scuffing against the stairs seemed to get lost.

Though Alwyn knew even a candle might have drawn attention, she still wished for even a glimmer of light, the dark oppressive. At least in the escape tunnel they'd had a torch, here there was nothing.

As Alwyn felt herself losing a sense of everything, Wilder spoke his voice reminding her she wasn't alone.

"Slow your pace," he said. "We're almost there and I don't want to crash into the trap door."

Alwyn let out a breath. "All right."

A moment later, Wilder stopped but it was sudden enough Alwyn bumped into him. She stumbled, her boot slipping on the step. Out of the blackness, Wilder snatched her arm pulling her back to him. She bumped against his chest, her heart panicking at the near disaster. She swallowed hard, feeling Wilder's racing heartbeat.

"Try not to fall," he murmured.

"Good advice," she said shakily. "I'll keep that in mind."

Then the most curious thing happened, Wilder laughed. It wasn't much of a laugh, a single low breath. But it was enough to make Alwyn relax.

"I'm going to let go of you now," he said.

"Okay."

When he released her, Alwyn reminded herself to breathe. Without his hand on her arm or his body close to hers, with no wall to touch, she felt locked in a void. It reminded her all too much of being trapped deep underwater where no light penetrated. It had only happened once, but the memory of it clung to her.

"Wilder," she said, stretching out her hand, searching for him or the wall, it didn't matter which.

"Yes," he said, distractedly.

She found the wall and pressed her hand against it, letting the coarseness of it keep her from panicking.

"What are you doing?"

She knew what he was doing but she needed his voice to banish the memory, the darkness, the loneliness.

"I'm feeling for the trap door," he said.

His matter-of-fact tone anchored Alwyn. Even in absolute darkness, he knew what he was doing. He held no fear or worry. If she hadn't seen his emotions over discovering his father and losing him again, she'd think there was nothing that could rattle him.

A burst of moonlight split the darkness as Wilder pushed open the trap door and Alwyn drank it in. Not the sea, she wasn't trapped under the water. Wilder ascended into the bell tower, Alwyn scurrying up behind him. She quickly put distance between herself and the staircase, resting her hands on her hips.

"Are you all right?" Wilder asked.

Admitting she was scared of the dark was too humiliating so she nodded and pretended to inspect their surroundings. Pretending turned into genuine curiosity. The space was half the size of a captain's quarters. In the center hung four bells that were so big Alwyn could have stood inside them with barely having to crouch. Archways were cut into the tower walls, doorways for the sound to escape through. Beyond the archways, the whole of the city lay below.

Unlike darkness, height did not scare Alwyn, she'd spent too many hours scaling rigging and sitting in the crow's nest for it to be an issue. She walked to the archway where Wilder stood. The palace rose above the city before them. It looked peaceful, a strange contrast to knowing what hid inside.

Alwyn looked to Wilder, his stare fixed on the palace, a troubled line cut between his brows.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

Wilder straightened and from that action Alwyn knew his answer before he said it. He wouldn't reveal anything.

"Yes," he said. "We will stay here for the day. From here we will be able to observe if there are patrols in the city. If there is activity at the harbor. Possibly see what the security on the palace is like."

Alwyn already knew this. They'd discussed this before leaving the palace ruins. She understood Wilder said it because he didn't want to talk about how he was doing. She couldn't fault him. What was there to really say? His father was locked in a cell beneath the palace and Wilder had left him. Even though there was no choice, it wasn't easy.

They stood there gazing out on the city but Alwyn felt as if they were in completely different places. She hated the loneliness of the feeling.

"Wilder," she said.

"Hmmm," he said, not taking his eyes from the vista.

"That night on the boat," she said, thinking of a topic that was safe. Well relatively safe, it was one that would only hurt herself. "Why did you say all that stuff about not being a leader and not being like my mother?"

Wilder didn't respond. He remained silent for so long Alwyn figured he didn't feel like speaking. She leaned her head against the stone but lifted it when Wilder shifted.

"My family has served the royal family as military commanders for generations. Having one family act as commander means that there is a sense of consistency. Knowledge of how to lead is passed down from father to son."

He crossed his arms and rested his shoulder against the archway. He relaxed and Alwyn did as well, tucking her hands behind her and leaning back on the wall.

"I grew up knowing this. Leading is part of who I am. I knew I'd one day replace my father. My course in life was set. As are Lydia's and Zavier's."

He met Alwyn's eyes.

"I said what I did because I saw how trying to lead a crew burdened you instead of strengthened you. It didn't come naturally. After traveling for two days with your family, I also discovered that the task of captain wasn't one that your parents forced on you." He shrugged. "I wanted you to understand you had freedom."

Freedom. The word had never meant much to Alwyn growing up since her whole life was the freedom of the open sea. But now, knowing what Lydia would take on for her kingdom, what Zavier was bound to for duty's sake, what Wilder did in the name of loyalty, it had a new meaning.

She had freedom. The truth of it made her feel selfish. Why should she get to chose her path when others couldn't?

"Did you ever think of not taking on the position of Commander?" Alwyn asked.

Unlike Lydia and Zavier who were both royals, Wilder was the closest to her in station. Wilder looked to the palace and Alwyn could almost feel how his thoughts turned to Lydia.

"Once," he said. "I wanted to be Lydia's personal guard as she acted as Ambassador for the royal family." He ducked his head. "But I also knew that would never last. Marriage would always take her away from me and duty to my father and carrying on our family's legacy would take me away from her."

Despite his even tone, Alwyn heard the underlining sadness he felt. It was a sadness that came from dreams built on sand. One day the tide would come and wash them away.

"From the moment you walked into my cabin then talked to my crew," Alwyn said. "I never thought we would have anything in common. You led without thought or struggle. Something I had never felt. But." She sent him a sad smile. "It seems we both made the mistake of falling for someone we knew we never should have."

Alwyn saw the edge of Wilder's mouth curl wryly. As she turned her gaze to the horizon, she echoed his smile.

She lowered herself to the floor and leaned against the archway, legs dangling over the ledge. Eventually, Wilder sat as well. Neither of them spoke and Alwyn felt like they'd found common footing. Together they watched the sun crest the horizon and beckon in a new day.

*****

Waves crashed and tumbled up the beach. Cyrus walked towards the water's edge, stealing the spot beside Alwyn.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

Alwyn didn't take her eyes off the ocean and the late afternoon light that gleamed on the undulating waves.

"You've been quiet for the past couple of days," Cyrus said.

Cyrus wore a troubled expression and Alwyn understood. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been this quiet. She looked past Cyrus's shoulder to where Wilder stood, arms crossed, waiting for the appearance of the ship.

Though he appeared the same, he looked completely different to her. No longer did she see arrogance but determination. She didn't see condescension, she saw authority. Most of all she saw someone who had lost, found, and lost his only family left and managed to keep himself together.

"Wilder's father is still alive," Alwyn said.

Cyrus stared at her surprised. "He is? Why isn't he with us?"

"Because he was locked in a cell."

Clarity wiped away Cyrus's shock. "And if you broke him out, it would be noticed."

Alwyn nodded. "He was the reason we knew all we did about the palace."

Cyrus glanced back at Wilder. "He didn't say."

He hadn't. Wilder had simply shared the facts of what they knew, never expanding on how they'd learned the information. Alwyn had watched him as the pairs shared their intel. Wilder gave away nothing, he took in the details with a nod and she saw as he began puzzling out a plan.

Thinking about Wilder's pain and how he'd had to leave his father behind, made Alwyn long to see her own father, to hug him, hear his voice. The thought left her feeling guilty. Not only was her father alive, but she had a mother and a brother. Wilder was alone.

She wanted to go to him but didn't know what she'd say or do. Would he even want her comfort? Her words of encouragement? Standing by himself, he looked calm, in control. There didn't seem to be anything Alwyn could offer him.

"Look," Cyrus said.

Alwyn tore her gaze away from Wilder and spotted the ship coming into view. She breathed out her relief. Together, the group pulled the boat into the water and clambered in. The vessel dipped and rose as they cut towards the ship. Each stroke forward built Alwyn's impatience. Again she saw Wilder's father crumpled on the floor. Heard Wilder's tears at leaving him. She needed to see her father.

When the boat came alongside the ship, Alwyn tilted her head back, peering up at the faces that leaned over the railing. There he was, showing just as much relief at seeing them as she felt. The boat rose out of the water and before it had reached the railing, Alwyn scrambled out. She wrapped her arms around her father, hating that she could do this when Wilder couldn't.

"I'm glad your safe, Little Duchess," Raif said, kissing her head.

Cyrus was the second over the railing but his direction was completely different, making a direct route to Yasmine. Despite her contained manner, there was a bright eagerness in her eyes. Alwyn let go of her father and stepped back. Her spot was instantly seized by Alwyn's mother. Raif kissed Isla, burying his fingers in her hair.

Alwyn paused. Her parents weren't ones to show affection in public. They might hold hands, whisper together each, and possibly embrace but this, this Alwyn had never witnessed. The intensity spoke of their desire and relief that the other was safe. The display betrayed the depth of their emotions.

Right then, Alwyn wished she'd had that. That type of love that could be shown in daylight, even if it wasn't most of the time. For Zavier and her, their time together had been hidden. Talks in the crow's nest at night. Kisses stolen in darkened cargo holds. Would their love have been the same if others had seen it? Or would it show that only the secrecy of it was what made it feel so intense?

"We need to return to Loria as swiftly as possible," Wilder said, climbing onto the deck.

The command in his tone banished Alwyn's reverie and untangled her parents. Isla called out orders and the crew leapt into action. Alwyn followed her parents, Sparrow and Wilder to the helm. As Isla took control of the wheel, guiding them out to sea, the group talked. Alwyn listened from the railing, all the while observing Wilder.

Even though he was decades younger than his companions, the authority he gave off seemed to put him as their equals. Alwyn couldn't help but respect him for it. Couldn't help but admire as he heard about the port not only being closed but how a ship would intercept any ship trying to dock and let them know they weren't welcome and took the information in stride.

Talk continued well into the night and by the time Isla had found the Current to take them to Loria, no plan had been solidified but ideas had been exchanged.

Alwyn lay in her hammock, swaying gently with the ship's motion, staring up at the ceiling. Sleep seemed so far away. She couldn't help turn over everything she'd absorbed the previous days. Swinging her legs over the side, she felt around for her boots and tugged them on.

She crept past the sleeping crew but paused when she spotted Wilder. The faint light from the open doorway fell across his face. Asleep, he looked younger, peaceful, almost like a young boy. But that image was banished when Alwyn saw the knife he slept with. He wasn't young and even in sleep, it seemed he wasn't completely at peace.

As Alwyn ascended to the deck, a cool wind swirled about her. It ruffled her hair and filled her lungs with the smell of home. Sea air and endless ocean this is what she knew. She just wasn't sure about where her place on it was.

When she climbed to the helm, she fought back a smile. Her father was manning it. But 'manning' was a loose term to him. He'd used Isla's trick of securing the wheel with a rope so it never varied from course. Doing so meant he could sit in a chair with his feet propped up, knotting and unknotting a strand of rope. Her father's efficient laziness always surprised Alwyn.

"Can't sleep, Little Duchess?" Raif asked, creating a complicated knot then quickly undoing it.

Alwyn nodded and sat down, crossing her legs. She tilted her head up and noticed two figures in the crow's nest.

"Is that really wise?" she asked.

Raif followed her gaze to where Cyrus and Yasmine sat together. Though they only sat side by side it was easy to see the pull they had for each other. The sight of their attraction twisted Alwyn's stomach, feeling how her better half was drifting away from her.

"It's fine," Raif said. "I wouldn't trust Cyrus to see a fleet of ships bearing down on us but I got to know Yasmine and Dempsey and they both have level heads. She's still aware of her task. The siblings are inexperienced but they learn fast and are capable. You chose well in picking them."

Alwyn let out a breath. Even when her rock head twin was falling in love at first sight, he managed to be a better captain than she had. Would he still want to be her co-captain now that his heart belonged to Yasmine? If not, Alwyn didn't think she could do it on her own. She scuffed her boot heel against the deck.

"Da," she said. "Did you ever want to be captain instead of first mate?"

Raif snorted. "No, Isla is too good at it. Besides, my strength lies in other places. I'm not a leader."

Alwyn found this hard to believe, she saw how people followed his orders.

"But the crew trusts you and listens to you."

"Yes, and they also know the commands I give are from Isla, not me. If they don't follow them they don't have to deal with me but her. Your mother is someone no one wants to cross."

Alwyn draped her arms over her bent knees, mulling over her father's words and his easy tone. He knew he wasn't a leader, it was that simple. Yet for Alwyn, it didn't feel that way. But still...

"Da, if I told you I didn't want to be the captain of my own ship anymore, would you be disappointed?"

"Naturally."

Before Alwyn could even register the response, Raif sent her a teasing grin. She rolled her eyes.

"Of course, I wouldn't, Little Duchess. I would find someone to buy the ship and get to keep you on this one longer. I've missed having you around. So has your mother."

"Even with all the trouble I tend to cause?"

"Purely for that reason. If you're not here to cause it then it lands on me to make a mess of your mother's perfectly ordered world."

Alwyn laughed. Her father smiled at her, a smile warm with deep affection. Something about it calmed Alwyn.

"Tell me," he said. "Am I selling a ship once this is all over?"

Alwyn stared up at her father, his windswept hair and relaxed manner. Nothing ever seemed to throw him, he took every situation as it was and faced it head on. He didn't fight for a role that didn't fit him, instead filled the one that he fit.

As Alwyn looked at him, she realized her whole life she'd strived to be like her mother, but maybe the problem was she'd lost sight of the father she was more alike.

"Can I get back to you on that?" she asked.

"Of course," Raif said, tapping her nose playfully. "You don't have to decide right now what you want to do. You have time."

**********************************************************************

"Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind, or forgotten."

(Well if that doesn't fit this chapter I don't know what does! But also is slightly insulting to Wilder since...you know... *whispers* He had to leave his dad and stuff...so maybe this wasn't the best quote to use. Oh dear.)

All right, now that I've manage to be careless to one of my characters, let's hear them thoughts: Wilder and Alwyn, Alwyn and Raif and how he's the best dad ever! (Second to Steve of course) Spill your brains! (Jeez that sounds violent, just share) 🧜🏽‍♀️⚔️🛡

Clearly, I have a thing about father-daughter relationships. There's something so wholesome about them when they are pure and encouraging. I don't know, I feel like there aren't enough good father-daughter relationships in teen books and so I like writing that.

On that topic my daily/weekly/updately question for you: Which male character that you've read about do you think would make a great father?

Me: Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice would probably make a great father. He's brusk at times but he cares deeply and I think that would make up for his manner at times.

Moment of honesty (also it's not really a single moment since I feel like I've had this moment with you on many occasions) I feel like my oddity in this book has been seriously lacking.

See! I told you this a moment we've already shared before! I have this weird self consciousness when it comes to my level of oddness and how entertaining it is and feel bad when it's right below Quirky but barely above Average.

I don't know, maybe I'm still odd and lovable. Maybe it's simply cause it's a Thursday (for me, not you. It's most likely a Friday for you. Or some other day of the week) But let's face it we all know Thursdays and how they are the poor man's Fridays.

Okay, not really the poor man's Friday's more like Friday's second cousin twice removed. Still invited to holiday dinners but no one really likes them and when you get a gift from them you don't actually remember who they are and have to text around to figure out who Thursday is. You know what I mean?

If you do that's amazing cause even I don't know what I mean at this point. What were we talking about? Walruses? Butterscotch cookies? Whatever, don't matter now.

Vote, comment, follow!