They stayed docked at the vertical port for three days, doing a bit of trading but mostly restocking their food and fresh water, and giving the crew a break. The port wasn't a proper city, but there was a decent tavern for the men to visit.

Elorie's ship left the day before they did, heading south. That annoyed Tanden as much as it excited him. He was determined that if they crossed paths with Elorie again, he would be more prepared. Knowing more about her employer would help, but asking around the port didn't provide him much information.

Their departure was delayed when the following day was cold and damp. Rain had fallen through the night, leaving a thick, misty fog hovering over the port. From one end of the ship, it was nearly impossible to see the other end. In familiar waters they may have risked moving, but with all the sea stacks and shallows along the coast, Tanden decided it wasn't worth the risk.

It was still cloudy and wet the next morning, but a stiff wind off of the ocean had cleared the fog, and so they set out, following the coast.

Staedin's cliffs gradually sank away, until the land met the water with jungles and sandy beaches. Tanden wasn't sure when exactly they crossed the border into Cratia, but he knew they had when they started passing fishing villages, and finally, a large city with a big port.

The architecture was like nothing Tanden had ever seen. Nearly every building was topped by a dome instead of a flat or peaked roof. Some domes were perfectly rounded, others spiraled up into a point. As if the domes weren't eye catching enough, they were all painted bright colours. Only one was white, the tallest and largest one which seemed to be in the middle of the city. Tanden guessed it was a palace or religious building.

As they sailed into the port, Tanden's attention drifted from the unique buildings to the boats around them. Plenty of them were Alvarian, but he didn't recognize Elorie's anywhere in the crowd.

Once the Wanderlust was tied off, Tanden stood on the stairs to the quarter deck to make one of his typical speeches. One of the most annoying parts about his ankle was that it stopped him from hopping onto the bulwark, his usual perch for addressing the crew.

"Lads, lady." He nodded in Jale's direction. "The further south we get, the less I know. I don't know the name of this city, and I can't speak the language, and I don't know anything about their culture or customs. So with that in mind, I'm going to ask you all to be patient about time off. Everyone's staying on the ship tonight, until I get the lay of the land. But—" he cut off a few grumbles, "—that does not mean I expect you to work! Tonight, we're opening up the wine and ale and we're celebrating! Cratia is our Lady Wanderlust's tenth country, and most of you have been along the whole time. How many people can say they've visited ten countries?" He paused, allowing for murmurs of agreement from the men, and a few cheery shouts. "We've done something incredible, gentlemen. But before the celebration can begin, we need to make sure we take care of our Lady, aye? A couple hours of work, then we'll break open the drinks!"

As the men broke off into their usual work groups, Tanden waved at Ivern. "Ivern, get Roan and Jerios and meet in my quarters. Soren, we need—oh." He paused, because Jale and Ara were already standing with Soren. "Perfect. Follow me."

He hopped down the stairs and led them into the captain's quarters. A moment later, Ivern, Jerios and Roan joined them. Tanden abandoned his crutch and leaned against the dresser underneath his map. The others gathered in a semi-circle around him.

Tanden took a deep breath. "I hate to ask this, but if all of you could remain sober tonight, it might be best. The crew might get a little rowdy, but I trust you three to keep them under control." He nodded towards Ivern, Jerios and Roan. "Jale, I truly hate to say it, but..."

"I'm not getting drunk around this many men," Jale said. "Even if I like them."

Tanden nodded. "I'm still sorry it has to be said. And Ara, the same reason. I wish I could guarantee that the men will all be perfectly behaved while drunk, but unfortunately I can't."

"Are you and Soren going to be in the city tonight?" Ivern asked. It was the politest way Ivern had come up with to ask if they would be going to a tavern for the night, and it made Tanden smile every time.

"No. We're going to go now and see what we can learn. But we'll be back overnight. Soren won't let me walk around for hours, as much as I might want to."

Soren didn't rise to the bait, just fixed Tanden with a look.

Tanden grinned at him in response, then turned back to the others. "All right. Like I told the lads, a couple more hours of work. And the seven of us will have a private, more contained celebration of our own another night." He pushed himself off of the dresser. "Let's get to it."

***

Soren would never get tired of following Tanden around new cities. Originally, he had enjoyed walking with Tanden because Tanden knew so much about the places they were visiting. Tanden had studied Deorun and Navire, he knew about their myths and traditions, and he was happy to share everything he knew.

But following Tanden through new cities was just as interesting, because Tanden would learn something new, and his whole face would light up, and he would turn to translate or describe his new knowledge. Tanden was more himself in those moments than he ever was around the crew. And even though he let down his carefully crafted persona around their friends, he was still more authentically himself when he was excited about something new.

Following him along the cobbled streets of the Cratian city was one of those moments. Tanden didn't know anything, but he wanted to know everything. So he made guesses, or commented whenever he heard a snippet of language he knew, or simply asked questions out loud. Not expecting Soren to know the answer, but just putting it out into the world as something he wanted to know.

"I wonder if the colour of the domes means anything," he said, as they walked past a row of buildings, all with bright blue domes.

"That might be religious," he commented, as a group of women walked past, hair covered with colourful, fluttery scarves.

"That was Deoran-this is pretty far for a Deoran sailor," he said, pausing at the doorway of what seemed to be a tavern, listening to the voices coming from inside.

All of that was typical Tanden. What wasn't typical Tanden was his hesitance to actually engage with anyone. Soren knew why, although he didn't voice the theory out loud. It was the ankle. Tanden's pride and confidence were both shaken by the fact that he needed a crutch to get around. It was the same reason he had so firmly introduced himself as Captain Lord Tanden to Elorie. The same reason he hadn't navigated meeting her with the same endless charm and cleverness he usually did. He was shaken.

The vulnerability brought out Soren's protective instinct in full force. Tanden was handsome and charismatic and smart and alluring and irresistible. He was rarely subdued and nervous. But when it happened, Soren wanted to protect him. He wanted to be a barrier between Tanden and the world, until Tanden could build himself up again.

It was a little bit silly, he knew that. Tanden was just as capable of handling things as he usually was. Soren just didn't want him to have to handle things.

But he didn't say any of that out loud. Surely Tanden knew he was acting a little off, he didn't need it pointed out. And if he didn't know, Soren didn't want to make him feel worse by drawing attention to it. So instead he followed along, listening to Tanden's curious comments and questions, and chiming in whenever he had a helpful thought.

As afternoon turned to evening, and they returned to the ship, they hadn't learned much about the city. Not even its name. But they had learned that there were plenty of taverns and that they welcomed foreigners. All ports were the same, it seemed. Luckily, that was enough information to know that letting their men have shore leave wouldn't cause any problems.

They joined the celebration for a bit. Tanden drank a glass of wine but Soren avoided the alcohol. After checking in with their friends—making sure Ivern and the lads could handle the celebration, making sure Jale and Ara were happy and safe—they retired to the captain's quarters.

The instant the door closed, Tanden, quite dramatically, let his crutch fall to the floor. He wrapped his arms around Soren's shoulders, nearly leaning all of his weight on him.

"Carry me to bed?" It was a playful request.

But instead of listening, Soren leaned back against the door, looping his own arms around Tanden's hips. "If you would just sit down and relax, it would heal much faster."

"I would sit down and relax, if I had a translator," Tanden replied. "Besides, mate, you're not a physician. And I never do what I'm told. So you can nag me all you want, it isn't going to work."

"Reckon I'll have to hold you down myself, then," Soren said, his voice low. Trying to taunt and flirt all at once.

Tanden smirked. "What, for days? Do you have the stamina for that, mate?"

Soren kissed him. Sometimes kissing Tanden was easier than talking to him. Oftentimes kissing Tanden was easier than talking to him, Soren decided, as he ducked to kiss along Tanden's jaw to his neck. Because even on an off day Tanden could talk circles around everyone. Almost everyone. Not Elorie, apparently.

Tanden slipped one hand into Soren's hair, and looped his other arm around Soren's neck, holding him in place. He enjoyed Soren's lips on his skin, for a time. But it didn't take long for Tanden to whisper, "Carry me to bed."

Soren replied between kisses on Tanden's neck. "Does that mean I'm in control tonight?"

"No," Tanden laughed.

Soren spun them around, taking advantage of Tanden's shaky balance before Tanden could do anything to protest. Soren pressed him back against the door. He took Tanden's wrists in each hand and pinned them above his head. He knew Tanden wasn't likely to tolerate the manhandling for long, so he had to take advantage of it while he could. He planted a few more kisses on Tanden's neck, then worked his way back up to Tanden's lips.

When he sensed that Tanden's patience was running a bit thin—mostly due to the tensing in Tanden's forearms—Soren stepped back. Not far enough to let Tanden away from the wall, but far enough that he could properly watch Tanden's face as he said, "Ask me again. Nicely."

There was a familiar look in Tanden's gaze. A look that meant he was intrigued. Not necessarily thrilled with the turn of events, but intrigued enough to play them out. "Soren, my love, please carry me to bed."

So Soren did. Quickly enough that it made Tanden yelp in surprise, Soren swept up his legs in one arm, supported his back with the other, and carried him across the captain's quarters.

He gently set Tanden down on the bed. Tanden tried to pull him down, but Soren stood firm. He wasn't quite ready to get lost in Tanden, not until he had a promise.

"You're going to rest tomorrow. No exploring. Not walking around. You're going to sit on deck and rest."

Tanden shook his head. "I can't do that, we have to—"

"Captain. Say yes, or I'm walking away."

"That's not fair."

"Tanden."

As always, hearing his name in Soren's voice made Tanden pause. Soren waited, giving Tanden the time he needed to decide. Finally, Tanden nodded. One, annoyed nod.

"Yes, all right," he grumbled. "But you're still not taking charge tonight."

Soren grinned, pleased with his small victory. In one swift movement, he pulled his tunic over his head and tossed it aside. Tanden's gaze immediately locked on to the swirling tattoos on his arms. It was a look of pure adoration, and Soren would never get tired of it.

He climbed onto the bed, and decided to give Tanden a little reward for agreeing to rest. His next words were spoken in an accent much thicker than his natural one. "Well, Cap'n? What're you goin' t' do t' me now?"

Tanden moved to straddle his lap, and instead of an actual response, simply dipped his head to give Soren a long kiss.