Port Royal, Jamaica

[Aurore Devareaux]

Sabastian tilted his head a degree to the right, pondering the statement offered. Briefly he glanced to the gangplank as if scrutinizing some forgien creature then turned full focus on the other man.

"Pardon?....Indisposed say you?....That seems of rather odd condintations if I would be one to consider overlong."

[Andrew March]

March , both hands pressed against the ship’s railing, as he leaned over it, fixed his gaze downward upon the man that dared not take a forward step.

“Well then don’t. We wouldn’t want ye to go reckoning amiss now would we?” March said. “The captain is indisposed pure and simple, no need to go reading into it something that isn’t meant to be there.”

[Aurore Devareaux]

Sabastian's eyes narrowed slightly, his posture stiffened, "Truly Monsieur March...One can think many things and lay wagers where they seem fit...But I am not one to waste time on petty assumptions and I only lay wagers when I see it to mine advantage...."

A pace was taken back with fluid grace, " It would seem that the odds lay to your favor at current and I shall keep mine thinkings unclouded with unneccessary wanderings. You shall be so kind as to relay this, one that I hold quite dear is rightly disturbed by recent actions. And perhaps, when he considers himself to have a momment of more convienence, he shall think upon that one's angst...."

[Andrew March]

March moved not a muscle. “Good then, ye do just that Mister Devareaux. Sorry I am if there be concern as to the captain’s welfare, but if Mistress Sterling wishes to see her husband, then rest easy, she will not be denied and taken to him she will be if she so wishes it.”

[Aurore Devareaux]

"Then so be it, though the manner of recent occurances has left me quite concerned in regards to mine sibling's....treatment. If you will swear that she shall be met with the highest of respect then I shall allow her into your keeping and wait patiently."

[Andrew March]

Still there was not a flicker of movement from the first officer. "Mistress Sterling is in good keeping here. Being the captain's wife, she is as much a part of this ship's company as he is."

[Aurore Devareaux]

Old suspicions rose to whisper as Siren's beckon in gut regions. Memories of Navarre...memories of France....tauntings of the Gadje. With a short bow, Sabastian returned to quay's end where not a word was said between gathered company.

Hand was extended, and Kindred aided from equine plateau to solidity of terra. Protectively, Prince of the Beggar's Ball escorted Court's prize possession to space of former occupation. The chill of spine returned with vessel's loom.

[Andrew March]

March straightened as fair prize was ushered forward. As Aurore neared he turned suddenly filled with life. "Alright ye rum gaggers, stand aside and belay them casks. The captain's wife is about to come aboard and I don't want no harm to be coming to her. Ye'll be standing clear and make haste in doing so!"

For the briefest of moments, eyes turned to stare at the first officer, but just as quickly orders were mulled over and then acted upon. Work came to an abrupt halt as men made fast all manner of movement of block and tackle and contaminated water kegs. Once any chance for danger had been attended to, men scattered, parting like the Red Sea as March finally made his way to the gangplank and waited.

He stared across as bride and brother made their slow advance, hoping all the while that the fear he knew she harbored deep within toward her husband’s livelihood, would overwhelm her just enough to keep her ashore. The last thing Andrew March wanted right now was for either to see Sterling in his current condition.

[Aurore Devareaux]

Once again, the gangplank gained proximity and smallish falter of assuredness gave evidence in daint step. So well the rhythms attuned and choreographed between siblings, that Elder brought Younger to halt. Rounding to place form as blockade to the ship and Her company, Sabastian centered all attention upon other's expression; raising brow in silent query. A smallish nod of negation was issued by the Younger and once again, the decks above and man who held sway over them was looked upon.

[Andrew March]

"Good day to ye Mistress," March called. Cocked hat was removed as formal bow was given with utmost respect. He righted himself, settling his hat back at its jaunty angle then took a deep breath. With hesitation hand was extended. "Can I welcome ye aboard Lady?" he asked.

[Aurore Devareaux]

Aurore held tightly to the comfort of brother's arm, her expression of calm giving faux presentation to what swam just below. A reluctance showed in well placed step, pause at the beginning rise of wooden bridge to the wooden nation above. With deep concern, male reflection watched her silent signals of body language, conjuring concern on lupine brow. Slow inhalation was drawn and another hesitant step taken.

"Monsieur March, I wish to see mon mari...."

[Andrew March]

Hand still extended, yet no forward step taken to close the distance, March waited. "As ye like Mistress. Take ye to him myself, if ye wish."

He remained fixed, still hoping tiny steps would falter before gaining footing upon deck.

[Aurore Devareaux]

Two sets of visual pools tinctured in earthy tones regarded the Lieutenant carefully, instinctually delving into what was not said but presented in posturing. Aurore cast a fleet look upon sibling and took another hindered step forward.

"Monsieur March, will you tell him that I am here. That I wish to speak with him in the night air, s'il vous plait?"

[Andrew March]

Extended hand was withdrawn ever so slightly as eyes narrowed equally in kind only to return to normal with all due haste. Without skipping a futher beat, the officer gave a slight shake of his head.

"Nay Mistress I cannot do that," March replied, his voice dipping low enough for only her to hear.

[Aurore Devareaux]

A minute squeeze was given to Sabastian's arm just as she unthreaded from it's security. With a hint of confidence, Aurore closed the gap of distance and steadied just before plank met deck. A beat of time flowed at molasses pacing as she studied the Lieutenant's face.

"I do not understand, Monsuier...."

Verbose was delivered with silkened hush.

[Andrew March]

He waited, his hand still empty, wanting only for hers to help her come across into her husband’s world. Eyes lowered momentarily, then focused on younger set, pleading her to step across the abyss that fell open before her. Quick but falsely steady glance was redirected to brother who stood sweating upon the pier before once again, as if nothing was off beam, steely eyes fixed on the timid, yet all too brave, creature that stood before him

[Aurore Devareaux]

Aurore watched the other's subtle nuances, made note of faux play of steadfast bearing. Another deep inhalation was taken with slow and quiet progression, another pace was allowed forward and with jaw set hard for fleeting momment, she spoke again.

" I am rather confused, Monsieur....You act as though I am asking some great boon...."

[Andrew March]

"Mayhaps..." the word was soft and fleeting. Hand was withdrawn. "Busy he is and none of us would be too pleased to disturb him and ask him to leave his quarters."

[Aurore Devareaux]

Expressive visual depths narrowed briefly to the answer, its' flavor displeasing to her palet. As the Lieutenants hand drifted to lower bearing, Aurore stepped foward again, chin inclined a degree in some form of defience and the angled terra was traded for more level ground.

"Monsieur, you will be so kind as to explain this to me....It is riddles and enigmas that your tounge does rouse....."

Down below, Sabastian shuddered without conscious thought.

[Andrew March]

As gap was vanquished, fatherly arm was placed comfortingly about Aurore’s shoulders. March felt awkward at his gesture and yet proud of the girl as she made her way slowly unto the deck. Without so much as a by your leave, he was ready to usher her below, but first his head inclined closely to delicate ear. “Jean n'a pas raison,” March whispered before full carriage was rapidly regained. “Il a besoin de vous mais il ne le sait pas.”

[Aurore Devareaux]

The composure that had fought for higher ground and rule of her expression hitched then regained stance. Aurore nodded acknowledgment to his words with stiff comprehension.

"Monsieur March, take me to mon mari....And do so with expediant measure, s'il vous plait."

Her thoughts were troubled and it was with an appetite that overpowered the fear of great vessel's existance.

[Andrew March]

His arm remained tight about her shoulders, other hand raised to take hers in it. He moved slowly until her step was able to match his own. His voice barely a whisper, he explained, stopping himself whenever he felt other ears were not distant enough.

"Do not take to heart what he may say. He has gotten away from us, with no one to keep him on an even keel. Tis exhausted he is and when he gets like this old ghosts come back to haunt him." March allowed his words to take root in Aurore's thoughts before he continued. "He wishes to dissolve the marriage, but ye pay him no mind. He doesn't mean what he says... not now, not until he's had time to recover himself." He stopped, arm withdrawing as hand was raised and knuckles brought to bear upon cabin door.

[Capt. Sterling]

Symms moved noiselessly to unlock and remove the barrier that separated his captain from prying eyes on other side of cabin door. Rapid look back caught dead and green eye open minutely as body stirred from once again slumber.

“Tis all right sir,” Symms said in a calming manner. “I shall send them away.” But all ready fatigued eyes had re-closed as form shifted uneasily and turned about.

“Thank you Mr. Symms,” the last name swallowed up by sleep.

The old steward removed the key, holding it tightly in his grip and peered through a sliver of opening. March’s visage hovered in tiny space and Symms carefully cracked the door a bit further.

“He be asleep again,” the steward reported, then scurried backward as the first officer pushed the cabin door open the remainder of the way. Aurore was rather pushed into cramped quarters instead of escorted and door was hurriedly shut and relocked behind her and Mr. March.

[Aurore Devareaux]

The first thing her senses clamped on to was the scent, it wafted with the portal's meager stance and became assault once stepping into the lair. Aurore's remaining sensories reached into the abyss as the portal was closed, them narrowed to center on the figure in slung repose. With target acquired, only instinctual energy was wasted on the surround, all else keenly projected to vessel's Roi. If any conversation took place between the two other men standing near, it was barely noted as she moved closer to Mate's side.

Aurore stood stock still, a hair breadth's away from the minute pendulum sway of canvas render. The heat and humidity reveled in coaxing noxious scent to near overpowering reign of chamber and her breathing pattern shallowed without conscious command. She could feel the eyes of Symms and March watching on from behind, a desire to vanquish them both from chamber's fortitude arose, but was choked before being given true form.

Without giving full grant of acknowledgment to near porcelain bowl of water capture, her eyes stayed intent upon Sterling's semi-calm while hands reached for cooling cloth. Gently applying aqua sooth to fevered brow, further note was made of the slight furrow that played his expression. Again linen square was refreshed and used for comfort caress then discarded. Lightly, Aurore gave caress to cheek, feeling the radiant heat that met digit touch.

The dark pools of visual expression reflected pain and concern as stray lock of tow tincture was brushed aside.....

[Capt. Sterling]

Hand raised to brush away unwanted attentions but gentler touch caused Sterling’s curiosity to come to foreground and he shifted enough to focus bleary eyes upon the woman standing beside the crib. Wearied sigh was meekly exhaled as gaze was fixed upon Aurore’s features and eyes filled with tears as he reached for her. “I am an unfit husband. Ye would do well to cast me aside,” he whispered as he placed himself in a position to be held by her. “And I am so tired,” his voice drifting as he spoke. “So very, very tired.”