Sea Rover

"Father, please." Pleaded Hermione, "Please don't send me away, not now! Our people need me!"

The ruler of the small islet kingdom of Illyria rubbed his forehead, his face was etched with deep lines of worry and exhaustion, "Please my daughter." He said tiredly, his weathered and sun browned face lined with displeasure. "You know there is not much I can do, to survive we must forge an alliance with Crete. We are having a bad harvest this year and gold cannot be brought into the kingdom, we do not have a strong enough force to combat those wretched marauders! You must marry king Helios!"

"Father he has been married five times already and his wives have all died! Please father, you cannot send to such a barbarian!" she cried, her brown eyes filling with angry tears.

"Enough." Said king Alexandors, his voice rising in frustration, "Daughter, we have a small kingdom, beside the brigands and the Moorish bandits we have rough, harsh terrain and farming is hard for our people, our coasts are haunted by pirates and smugglers, we have no gold to replay our loans and no food with which feed our people. Our way of life is in danger of being wiped out, Illyria is at the edge of Greece and the East, we belong nowhere and are suspected by both. Both the Moorish and the Greek kingdoms are merely looking for a chance to invade us and destroy our way of life. Helios had money and influence, my child. And you are a princess of Illyria, a daughter of the southern sea and the heir to the Trident, it is your duty to look after your people. It is your duty to do everything you can to preserve the Seven Isles and if your duty entails your marriage to Helios then you must marry him."

Hermione remained rooted to her spot beside her father's throne; he had never raised his voice at her before. As the single other surviving member of the royal family, she and her father had stuck together through hell and high water, especially when Hermione's mother and six other brothers and sisters were caught in a storm and their ship was destroyed. She and her father had clung to each other in silent grief when seven bodies, bloated by water damage and unrecognizable had been brought to the Amber Palace for the final rites. Hermione had just to shut her eyes to remember the acrid scent of burning flesh and charred silk.

And now she was leaving her home, her home where she had grown up playing in the summer orchards, swimming in the mild Southern Sea, going shrimp catching and crabbing on the abandoned isles of Loiath and Isk, her home of wild summer cyclones and mild winter breezes. Her home where she had been taught how to read the seas, to sail, to swim, to rule.

She had always known she was going to be the heir to the Trident in the Amber Palace but because of the poor harvest she had to leave everything behind, her father, her throne and her beloved islands.

She gave her father a stiff nod before departing from his side, at the threshold of the throne room she stopped to gaze upon it one last time for she knew in her very bones that she would not be returning to it… ever. The high walls were like that of a citadels, soaring arches guided in white marble and aquamarines. The Amber Palace's throne room was said to be one of the most beautiful in all the realms, its wide open widows reflected the greenish blue water of the sea giving the feeling that the room was underwater. Obsidian holders cradled burning driftwood that glowed in different colors, blue, pink, green sometimes even red.

"I am proud of you daughter." Came her father's soft voice from across the room and for the first time in a long time, Hermione stopped to look at him, really look at him. Her father looked tired, he slumped over the Amber throne looking frail, his long brown hair the same shade as Hermione's was liberally streaked with grey and his soft , dark eyes that Hermione loved so were glazed with exhaustion and the weight of responsibility. Illyria's problems were taking a toll on her beloved father and Hermione couldn't bare it if she lost him too.

"I will go father." She said, her head held high and her back straight, "These are my people, I apologize for being selfish. If marrying Helios saves the Illyrians then it is what I as a proud princess of Illyria must do."

"The Gods will bless you, my child for you are a true daughter of the Southern Sea. Remember the poem your mother used to read to you." Her father said with a faint smile.

"Our women are bold, beautiful and brave,

Our men honorable, heroic and fair,

'tis the blessing of our seas, 'tis gift of our Gods, three

Wherefore dost thou children of the sea, to dwell on land and abandon thee,

Yet they cannot forget the magic of the Illyrian sea."

"Remember that my heart." Said her father, "thou art a child of the Illyrian sea"

Hermione bowed, "when do I set sail, father?"

"In two days, my child. Visit the citadel and take the blessing of our Gods, prepare yourself for it is not going to be easy."

Hermione resisted a bitter laugh as she took her leave and began her assent upwards to her chambers which overlooked Siren Isle, one of the uninhabited islands in Illyria's chain.

King Helios of Crete, second son and conqueror of Visk was of forty and one summers with five bastard children and over thirteen legitimate children, the man was a monster. As cut off as Illyria was, rumors had floated down to them.

Five wives each of them killed by some mysterious poison, the king always got away scot free and always married again within two months of his wife's death. The most recent death was of Yasmine El-Mazumdar, a Byzantine princess from the far reaches of the Eastern realm, she had bourn him three sons.

Hermione shuddered to think what was going to happen to her there. She didn't want her children growing up in Crete after her death and die she would if the King Helios had any say in it. Gently pushing open the sun bleached doors of her room she shook her head to try and dispel all thoughts of the unpleasant king Helios.

Tonight she wanted to relish the memories of Illyria and so she walked around her circular room and uncovered its glass windows hidden behind linen curtains. Her room offered her a panoramic view of her home, the South overlooked Siren Isle, one of the most beautiful of isles, covered in verdant and lush greenery, it had hidden coves and secret curving grottos, covered in wild and beautiful flowers, large red rhododendrons, pink bougainvillea and hydrangeas, Sirens Isle was supposed to the home of mermaids. The North overlooked the rugged Lume Mountains with their lava spewing volcanoes and deep gorges, the East was where the sun rose over the deep green waters of the Southern Sea and the West was the vast rose garden planted and tended to by Hermione's mother and now Hermione.

In one corner of her room Hermione noticed her maid Hemera had already packed her trunks. She wanted to sob! Gods! She wanted to rage at her father for even suggesting she marry that sick barbarian. Slowly she collapsed on the silk sheets of her soft bed and buried her face in the silky blue pillows.

She knew that when she left for Crete she would not only have to leave her home behind but also every memory of Illyria, the legends of their Gods and Monsters, their history… everything. She would be forced to conform to Greek ideals, forced to worship their Gods.

Illyrians had just three Gods, Ouranos, the heavenly deity, Thalasa, the goddess of the sea and Yen, the earth god. Therefore they were considered primitive, their practices scorned and shunned in 'modern' society.

She shut her eyes and thought about the people who needed her, she was doing this for them, she reminded herself firmly.

There was no choice, her people needed her.

…..

Hermione hurried towards the citadel, her hair covered in a cowl and her usual thin cotton Stola replaced by a white linen gown that was laced tightly. Pleasant wind stole across, brushing Hermione's face and bringing the fresh, salty scent of the sea. Oh how she would miss it!

The citadel of Thalasa the goddess of the sea, the primary deity of the Illyrian royal family was open to public today for a special mass held in honor of her leaving. Hermione entered the silent chambers and walked forward to where her father sat on the special throne constructed from driftwood and took a seat by his side.

The priest was dressed in his ceremonial robes of green and blue linen, on his head sat the crown of the sea goddess, studded in emeralds and sapphires, enough to feed the land for at least two years. On Hermione's father's head was his own crown, pain thick gold with a large diamond surrounded by rubies. The crowns of rulers were determined by which quarter of the year the ruler was born in, rubies and diamonds for birth during the months of Yen, diamonds and sapphires during the months of Ouranos and pearls and aquamarines during the months of Thalasa. Hermione's own tiara was studded with the finest South Sea pearls and aquamarines.

The priest walked between the aisles of uneven stone, blessing people with salty water whilst chanting in ancient Illyrian, the citadel was carved out from the rocks that surrounded the sea, the true home of Thalasa.

Hermione bowed her head and listened to the sounds of the chanting, losing herself in the brief fantasy that this was just another ceremony.

As mass came towards it's end, the priest sprinkled salty water over Hermione's downturned head and said in his solemn, ringing voice, "May the goddess always be with you, child."

Hermione gulped, there was no more hiding. It was time for her to leave. Her people had gathered to see her off, she felt faintly sick and so she stiffened her back and took her father's offered arm and began her decent down the steps of the alter, her head held high and her chin raised she walked with dignity towards the large seafarer that was to carry her to Crete.

"I fare thee well, daughter mine." Said her father, "'tis true that thou art a true daughter of the sea, carry forth the legacy of the Trident, carry forth the legacy of Illyria. Be brave, girl. Be brave, be courageous, thou art Illyrian blood of mine. Forsake not thy legacy and thy Gods. I bless thee! May the seas be kind to thee!"

The people echoed the ancient chant , "May the seas be kind to thee!" as Hermione mounted the stairs to the ship.

Hermione's last sight of Illyria was that of shouting children and hundreds upon hundreds of men and women waving Illyrian flags in celebration of her sacrifice and her father, glowing stronger and prouder than she had ever seen him, unable to stop the tears that flowed forth from his eyes.

"I love thee." He mouthed to her and the wind carried her reply back to him…

"I love you, father!"

….

The night had fallen and Hermione sat upon her pallet in her chambers, the wind was sultry and warm and so she lay in just her chemise, her tan arms covered in pearl bracelets that she should have removed but was feeling lazy. Her long wildly curly hair lay in disarray around her shoulders. Would the king find her attractive she wondered? Not that it mattered but if he was going to be her husband…

She wasn't bad looking she supposed, slim, with a lithe, strong body developed by years of swimming and tanned by the gentle Illyrian sun, with high lip tilted breasts crowned by rosy nipples, down to a flat stomach, firm thighs and long legs. Her hair, sun streaked and long hung all the way down to her hips, wildly untamable, an amber mass streaked with blonde highlights, large sable colored eyes, like the deepest, darkest honey, wide lips and a beautiful dimpled smile. She was no raving beauty but the coming together of the individual feathers on her face gave her a pleasing inner light that most people were attracted to, adding the fact that she smiled a lot.

She sighed and lay back, falling asleep almost immediately in the warmth of the cabin.

….

"My lady!" Hermione felt herself being shaken awake, "My lady please wake up!" one of Hermione's private guards was shaking her gently, his face was a mask of professional stoniness but underneath that Hermione could sense his fear, his face was pale, "My lady you must hide! YOU MUST!" he said urgently, "We are being…" before he could finish the door was kicked down and all Hermione saw was a large blade being thrust into the soldier's stomach, his lips opened to spew out blood, staining his uniform a bright crimson.

Hermione opened her mouth to scream but no sound would leave her lips. She scrambled up, under her slight chemise she wore nothing, she had to run! She HAD TO! She tripped over the dead guard's body, feeling a second of remorse because she hadn't even bothered to ask him his name.

A large shadow loomed at the entrance of her cabin, blocking her path to freedom. Before she could do anything one large calloused hand reached out and grabbed her. The fine material of her chemise ripped under the harsh skin of the stranger. Hermione could feel the warm breeze of the South Sea brushing over the exposed skin of her breasts.

"What are we going to do with this one?" came a rough voice, it was in a language she didn't understand.

"She is the princess Sven, they were all trying to protect her." Came another brittle voice, "Look at the jewels on her arms. Take her to the Captain before you do aught."

"Fine little morsel she is by Odin, I'd like to take her." Said Sven, laughing cruelly.

"Touch her not." The other voice warned.

"Let me go." Demanded Hermione, her Illyrian tongue lightning fast, "Animals! Brigands! What have you done to my people! I am the princess of Illyria! How dare thee attack my ship!?"

"Take her onto deck, Sven." Said the other voice and Hermione caught sight of a tall thin man dressed in a rough tunic and tight fitting breeches over fine leather boots.

The taller man was dressed similarly, his beard was long and dirty and his rough hands dragged her towards his large body with ease and as she struggled he began to carry her out onto the deck.

Hermione looked around her, the bodies of her men were strewn everywhere, she wanted to shriek but the brute had his rough hand on her mouth.

"Stop struggling, you little cunt." He growled in his own tongue, "I'll put you down and fuck you right here."

Hermione didn't understand what he was saying but the menacing tone warned her.

On deck, it was bloodbath, the light wood of the ship was stained with blood, all the members of her crew lay massacred and Hermione couldn't stop her scream of agony and anger this time.

"FLITH! SCUM! SISTER FUCKER! WHORE MONGER!" she screamed in Illyrian, "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY PEOPLE! LET ME GO! LET ME GO!"

Sven slapped her hard but her wild eyes continued to dart from body to body, taking in the brutal efficiency with which all of them had been killed.

"My-my, what a catch." Said a soft voice in Illyrian, Hermione's head turned to seek out the man who spoke in her tongues.

When he came into sight, all the other men bowed, the Captain of the pirate ship. The Raider was tall and young, handsome but to Hermione's bitter eyes he was the monster who had killed her people.

"Are you the scum who hath murdered my kin, art thou the filth that stained this floor scarlet?" she spit out bitterly.

The young captain looked amused and muttered something in his own tongue and before she knew it, Hermione's face stung with the blow of one of the large blond men. Another Illyrian speaking pirate sneered at her, "Thou art addressing Captain Draconis Fernier, respect would get you a long way, girl."

"I am Princess, Hermione of Illyria, daughter of Alexandros, keeper of the Seven Isles, daughter of the South Sea and heir to the Trident, addressing me with respect will get thee far, pirate." She said arrogantly, lifting her chin and pretending she wasn't standing nearly nude in front of the raider.

A mellow laugh reached her ears and Hermione turned furiously, "No one art Queen of the Sea, my beauty." Chuckled the young captain.

"I have heard of you, sir." Said Hermione narrowing her eyes, "They call you 'The Marauding Wolf' thou art most dangerous of brigands." She wanted to claw out his silver eyes that glittered with amusement at her expense, he was handsome she noted regretfully. A Viking, silver, blond hair that brushed his shoulders pulled back into a ponytail, a tall, muscular body that moved in fluid, silent grace and those eyes… careful, guarded, shimmering in the half moon of the night. They looked more like a wolf's eyes than humans, as if sensing her thoughts the Wolf barred his teeth in cold grin. "Ah, little princess thou art a tasty little morsel for this wolf's next meal." He said with a callous laugh. "Careful now before I devour you."

Her captor's grip had slackened, Hermione noticed. Breaking free she ran towards the railing, she would jump if she had to but she would not be raped by barbarians. She was fast but the Wolf was faster before she touched the rails his large hands were around her hips dragging her back she screamed Illyrian obscenities.

"My-my, such a tongue on a lady." He smirked, "I wonder what thy father will have to say when I send him my ransom demand."

Hermione stiffened, "He cannot pay you." She told him with cold dignity, "My kingdom has no money; we have had a bad harvest this year. I was on my way to Crete where an alliance has been forged with the King Helios; my hand in marriage for his help with our financial troubles. If you think you're going to demand a ransom from him, I'd like you to try. No man is going to want a bride who has spent nights with pirates. 'tis a taint upon my skin that once known cannot be scrubbed" She spat bitterly "and my father has no money to give."

"And these matters concern me how?" he drawled, his arms still around her.

"You could let me go, take my jewels, everything I have with me right now. Let me go to Crete and then I could pay you." She said hopefully.

The Wolf laughed coldly, "You think me a fool, little girl? That I would take your word for it and let you go?"

"If not that then what?" she whispered fearfully.

"I think I shall keep you." He growled, "You're desirable enough."

"Please…" she cried, pushing against him, "Please, the people of my kingdom need me. They need the money. Please." She pleaded, hating the begging tone in her voice.

His large warm hand was traveling upwards from her hips, spanning the breadth of flat belly. "What if I let you go? What do I get?"

"What do you want?" she whispered.

"You." He said simply.

…..

"It.. it is impossible." Her voice shook, "I must marry Helios."

"Helios is an animal, my beauty." Said the blond headed Viking, "He will take you like you are a bitch in heat. It is a week's journey to Crete, spend the week with me. Let me show you the pleasures of lovemaking and then you can go about saving your kingdom."

"Why…" she faltered, "Why this? You can have my jewels and my silks, why do you want this?"

"Because I want you." He said crudely, except in his soft, seductive voice it didn't sound crude. It sounded alluring, Hermione felt like she was being drowned in a sea of silk and sweet feathers; his voice held sweet-sweet promises, like bursts of starlight over the dark horizon.

"You think too much." He murmured into her ear and slid his rough hands over her almost nude body, her thin, ripped up chemise was no defense against his expert fingers that danced over her sensitive skin. And right there against the rail of the ship, Draconis bent low and pressed his lips against Hermione's pliant mouth. The texture of his light stubble felt foreign and exciting against her skin, "We mustn't." she pleaded, "I barely know thee and this is wrong. Thou art a pirate and you have destroyed my ship and you're taking advantage of me. Please stop." She murmured against his lips, "Please."

"Sweet Freyja, just shut up." growled the young Wolf and pressed his lips to hers. Kissing her first; softly and then with growing hunger. Hermione felt like a sedative had been mixed into her blood, hypnotically she opened her lips for him, her sweet soft little tongue darting out and stabbing his. His kisses were expert, drawing her breath away from her body and gently… ever so gently nipping the plump lower lip of her sweet-sweet mouth. Unconsciously Hermione's own hands snaked up his back and around his neck, her slim fingers burrowing through his silky blond hair, tugging lightly till he groaned, his fingers clenched around her hips. Drawing her towards him, lifting and fitting her into his body, pressing into her until their arousals soared.

"We must stop." She breathed out, "Please, I am betrothed to another."

Draconis pushed her away, her back slamming into the rails, "this is my deal, one week in my company and then you are allowed to return to Helios or your father pays the ransom."

"Wait!" she cried out, "If I spend one week with thee?" she whispered, biting her lip… her cheek stained with a wild blush. "Will anyone know?"

"Why? Is it that disgusting to be associated with a pirate?!" he said scornfully, glaring at her.

"I am expected to be a virgin, for Helios." She said with cold dignity. "I can pretend as long as no one knows."

"Then no one shall know. Do you consent?"

"I do." She whispered.

Draconis's smile was predatory as he stalked towards her, "Excellent then, my beauty… there is no time to waste."

"Váli!" he called to one of his men, "Take the princess to Jörmungandr and place her in my cabin?"

"Our ship, captain? Are you sure?" said the seasoned old man in their own Slavic tongue.

"I'm sure." He replied with a smirk.

"But the ransom?" asked the white haired Viking.

"Not from this one." Said Draconis, caressing his stubbled cheek, "I've always wanted to fuck a princess and what a pretty little one I have now." He laughed. "Take her and return her clothes and jewels, tell her I want her to dress up pretty for me."

The old man nodded and led the young girl away gently, he couldn't speak Illyrian but he tried to keep his voice comforting as he spoke to her in Slavic, she was barely eighteen summers old… the same age as his youngest twin girls. He shuddered to think of them in a similar situation. He could tell she was feeling exposed and vulnerable so he hurriedly rushed her off to the captain's chambers.

Once they were on their own ship; Jörmungandr, he led her to the comfortable room where Draconis slept and pointed towards her trunks. She merely nodded gratefully and he left her to dress.

Hermione dressed quickly, changing her chemise and pulling on a light summer gown and just for a touch of defiance she placed her tiara on her head. Let him know, she thought bitterly, let him know that the only way he could touch a woman like her was by forcing her. It would take him time to plunder and loot her ship she thought angrily. She could run… but the moment she reached the door, she remembered the smile of pride on her father's face, the hope on the peoples. This was for them, she told herself firmly. What difference does it make anyway, I'm just going to be raped by one barbarian after another. And so she sat. Silent. Calm.

….

The Wolf smiled brutishly, a pretty little prize indeed. She didn't fear him and for Draconis that was a welcome change, something about the little princess's defiance had pulled him in and held him. She had felt so good in his arms earlier, maybe he just hadn't fucked a woman in a long time he thought with a wry twist of his sensual lips but her skin had been like silk and his body leapt at the thought of owning her even if it was just for a week. He couldn't wait to sink his fingers into that mass of soft hair, she even fucking smelt soft, like sea salt and wildflowers.

His arousal shocked him, he wasn't some green lad with his first woman but this defiant little princess made him hard, he wanted her and by Odin by the time dawn broke over the horizon he would have her and it would not be rape. He would make her want him, make her beg him, turn those soulful honey eyes into molten gold with lust, make her warp her pretty legs around him and scream! She would belong to him.

Hermione knew what was going to happen when ruthless pirate entered her room, Gods she knew it but she couldn't bring herself to be scared. Every time she tried to muster up something akin to disgust the feeling of his soft lips sliding over her own would return and she would shiver.

"Hello my beauty." He purred from behind her, shocking her. "Driving yourself mad thinking about how the dangerous swashbuckling marauder is going to steal your virtue?" he smirked, his low throaty voice washing over her like the warmth of the summer sun.

"I swear I won't steal your virtue, sweet thing." He smirked, "I'll make you want me as much as I want you. You'll give it to me."

"A gift.."

"Must you?" she said breathlessly, "You know how my body sings to yours, don't make me want you, don't make me beg…please I want to be able to forget this when I leave. I want to be able to forget your touch. Don't break me."

"I won't rape you." He snarled harshly.

Her lips trembled and Draconis reached out and pulled her to him, kissing her with controlled ferocity, his arms slid over her body resting on her slim hips. "Feeling defiant were you?" He smirked as he touched the delicate silver band of pearls on her head.

She nodded, "Don't ever think that just because my body wants yours I will ever forgive you for treating me like a commodity." She glared at him.

"Gods, just stop talking." He groaned, "I can't fucking think when you're dressed in something like that."

"What's wrong with it?" she gasped.

Instead of answering he rubbed the pads of his thumbs into her cloth covered nipples while his lips traveled down her golden throat to the pulse throbbing at its base. She gasped as he continued to kiss her collarbones, his tongue flicking out to rub the velvet of her. His finger's manipulated her soft breasts, alternately caressing and teasing. His mouth drew sensual circles on the delicate flesh behind her ear, making her gasp and moan. Her body arched into his, pressing her arousal into his own.

"Gently, sweet thing." He whispered, lifting her up to him so that her legs wound around his hips. "There is nothing more beautiful than watching a virgin blush." He chuckled. His lips descended onto her own as Hermione discovered his firm mouth and talented tongue, his large hands held her to him as he crossed the room and tumbled her onto the bed.

"Strip." He whispered roughly, Hermione hurried rid herself of the tiara, the gown and the chemise.

"No, sweet thing… leave that tiara on." He growled.

"You're cruel." She whispered.

"Oh you have no idea." He said, his eyes hungrily running over her lithe form. The pirate pressed kisses down her soft skin, she tasted salty and it made him want her even more. Her skin was warm and womanly, supple, like golden cloth. Betwixt her soft thighs, her musky flower beckoned to him. Draconis moved down to her hipbones, "What are you doing?" moaned out Hermione, scandalized, "Stop"

Ignoring her, Draconis parted her soft thighs and pressed his firm lips to her sweet little sex, kissing the plump lips and lapping at her essence, scandalized and yet impossible aroused Hermione moaned and arched her back towards his seeking tongue, she wanted to draw his head further but her hands were gripping the furs that covered his bed. She moaned incoherently as he made love to her with his talented tongue. Her fingers reached out to claw at his massive biceps, "Please." She whispered in a strangled voice, "Oh please Draconis." She cried, "Take me!"

He smiled wickedly and raised his shaggy blond head and pressed a hard kiss against her open lips, all bitten and stung she looked wild, stained red … she arched herself towards him. He resisted her, pressing his lips against her breasts… making a soft suction with his tongue and his mouth as he bit at her.

"Please…" she pleaded "Please…"

Draconis groaned, "Gentle, sweet thing…I don't want to hurt you."

He pressed his hard manhood against her moist, wonton body and slowly, ever so slowly he pressed his aching body into her. Hermione's fingers clung to his shoulders carving out little crescents as she met his thrusts with her own. The pain lanced through her body, making her cry out in shock and tightening her calf's around Draconis's hips as he took her, his thrusts were slow and shallow at first until her body adjusted to the feel of him.

"Harder…" she whispered after a few minutes, "Faster." And his control shattered, Hermione's body rose to meet his as they danced to a ballad as old as time. Their movement rocked to the rhythm of the sea, lips …kissing,

hands…touching,

bodies…joint,

sighs…mingling,

moans…rising.

Together, together, together towards the flying stars. She cried, her body taut as if it was struck by Thor's own living lightning, his smooth skin covered in a sheen of fine sweat, supple as he moved with her, rose with her, fell with her, sank into her, surrounded himself with her.

They rose to meet the crescendo, their kiss never ending, their contact never fading. Together the rose to meet the stars, "Oh Draconis!" she cried… her body beginning to spasm, he rode with her as her body tumbled over the edge of pleasure carrying his along.

….

Hermione spent the next few days exploring her new found freedom on the Jörmungandr; a Viking ship was very different. Hardier than the ones they had down South, days were spent basking warm sun and nights, oh sultry night spent with Draconis; making love.

Hermione wanted to stop, for she was falling in love with the wicked pirate… her enemy. He was a good man to his men, they respected and revered him but every day that drew to a close was one day closer to Helios.

Hermione sighed and turned back from the helm, began walking towards the cabin. It was dusk; Draconis would be waiting for her. They took the evening meal together, usually a sensual, decadent affair of mingled sighs and lovely touches.

As she entered the cabin she saw Draconis's back towards her, he was tense… he had been running his fingers through his hair.

"Draconis?" she enquired gently, "What is it? What plagues thee so, my Wolf?"

He turned, his stormy eyes gripping her, "We arrive at Crete tomorrow, princess."

Hermione's breath caught, so soon… too soon...no, she wasn't ready to leave him just yet.

"You mustn't leave." He told her stoically.

"Oh but I must, Draconis!" she cried helplessly, "'tis the only way I can save my people! You must understand, my love!"

"Do you want to leave?" he snarled, his eyes turbulent and angry.

"No!" she gasped, reaching for him, "No… you have shown me beauty, Draconis but this was a dream… a beautiful, wonderful dream that I wish I could continue living in. But I am duty bound and people depend on me… I cannot abandon my duty for my own selfish desires."

"What about me?" he said bitterly.

"Not even for you…" she said sadly. "My love, you must understand... you must know"

Hermione could feel his palpable anger, furiously he stripped her and made love to her… her gentle, tender lover was gone… he was rough but she couldn't stop the tears from falling. She gave, he took… everything she had left… she gave.

….

"I will come for you, Hermione." Were the last words her pirate lover whispered to her, "You mark my words, if it is the last thing I do… I will come for you!"

...

One shot :P Review guys, I'd love to hear what you have to say.