Summary: Some of Diavolos’ thoughts about Kenna on the trip to the Iron Empire, and Kenna is torn while Diavolos tries to be persuasive.
Part 1 (PG-13)
When Diavolos wakes the next morning, the sleeping quarters are nearly empty. He’s gotten used to sleeping in ships over the years, the rocking motion finally soothing instead of stomach churning like it had been when he was younger. He’s usually an early riser, but he has no reason to get up early today, so he rests his arms behind his head and closes his eyes again.
This is the last place he expected to end up when he’d been thrown in the dungeons in Lykos. Of course, he hadn’t expected to end up in the dungeons in Lykos in the first place, or to be summoned by Kenna for information about the Iron Empire. He’d been completely taken aback when she’d invited him to come with. Knowing how she felt about his father, he’d expected her to have him put back in the dungeons and left there to rot.
He didn’t particularly want to go back to Ducitora, having just fled from there, but he didn’t figure he had much choice. That, and he’d meant what he said: he had no problem being stuck on a ship with Kenna for weeks.
It’s not just that she’s incredibly beautiful or that he’s attracted to her instantly, though he won’t deny that’s part of it. There’s something else, something that draws him to her. It’s a strange feeling, one he’s not used to. He’s used to feeling fleeting physical attraction, and nothing more, but it’s different with Kenna. He wants her. He wants to know her.
Diavolos becomes aware of someone standing in the room and opens his eyes slowly to see Kenna staring at him from the doorway with an amused expression on her face.
“Do you always stare at people when they’re sleeping?” he asks with a grin, pushing the blanket down and swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
“You weren’t asleep. But no,” she laughs, “I just thought you’d be the type to wake up before everyone else.” She gestures at the empty sleeping quarters.
He doesn’t miss the way her eyes linger on his bare chest as he stands and tugs his shirt on. “I’m a prisoner, remember? What do I have to be up early for?”
Kenna rolls her eyes. “Come on. We’re meeting in my cabin to discuss our plan for when we get to the Iron Empire.”
“You realize it will take us weeks to get there, right?” he asks, sliding his boots on and following her.
“I know. But there’s no harm in getting a head start.”
Diavolos leans against the wall in Kenna’s cabin as everyone tosses ideas back and forth. It amuses him that whenever Kenna asks for his input, Leon gets stony-faced and Val rolls her eyes. Sei just watches him, silent and stoic. Annelyse and Whitlock at least look like they’re listening. Raydan is harder to read, but then, he’s an assassin, and adept at playing any role.
When Diavolos says it would be better if he not go to meet Azura with them, pointing out that she might recognize someone from Abanthus, Val slaps the table enthusiastically. “Finally, something I agree with him on.”
Leon looks at him suspiciously. “And you think we’ll just leave you alone on the ship?”
“He won’t be alone,” Kenna points out. “There’s no need for the crew from Panrion to come in to Marossi.”
Leon doesn’t say anything else about the matter, though he looks unconvinced. When Kenna dismisses them and everyone heads to the deck, she remains behind, a worried look across her face.
“What’s wrong?” Diavolos asks.
She looks up from the desk, startled that he’s still there. “Nothing,” she sighs.
Kenna looks at him curiously. “You’ve spent a lot of time on ships. What did you do to pass the time?”
Diavolos chuckles. “Slept. Drank. Sparred. There’s not much else to do.”
She smiles, then stares down at the maps on her desk.
He can read the obvious apprehension all over her face. “Something’s bothering you. What is it?” he asks again.
She fidgets with one of the maps, smoothing out a crease.
“All of this,” she finally admits after a long silence. “I’m worried about Dom. I’m worried how this meeting will go.”
Kenna glances up at him. “I’m worried about you.”
He pushes away from the wall, standing close enough that he could reach out and touch her. “What about me?”
“This is a strange situation, Diavolos. I’m glad you came with, but I still worry that maybe it was a mistake.”
Diavolos rests his hands on her shoulders, turning her away from the desk to face him.
“Kenna. I’m not going to jeopardize this trip, or you,” he says sincerely.
She looks like she wants to believe him, but there’s still a hint of uncertainty in her eyes as he gently cups her chin and tilts her face up. “I’m not going to try and abandon you in Marossi,” he promises in a low voice.
Kenna stares up at him, studying him, and he wonders what she’s thinking.
“What is it?” he finally asks.
“Why do I keep wanting to kiss you?” she murmurs.
“Probably the same reason I want to keep kissing you.”
“Hmm,” she replies with a half-smile.
“I’m not stopping you,” he points out, grinning and banding his arms around her back as he presses her against him.
Kenna laughs quietly, shaking her head.
“I should probably check on everyone else,” she says with a sigh.
“It’s a small ship,” Diavolos retorts. “What could possibly happen?”
“Have you met Val?” Kenna says, giving him a pointed look.
“Good point.”
He leans down, pressing his lips to hers briefly before releasing her. Her cheeks turn the faintest shade of pink, and he finds it strangely endearing that he can make the Queen of Stormholt, this tough warrior queen, blush. He wants to make her do it again.
~~~~~~~~~~
Being stuck on a ship is driving Kenna crazy, and it’s only their first full day at sea. She’s restless, walking around the deck, into her cabin, through the sleeping quarters, and back again. Diavolos teases her about how she’s going to wear herself out before they even get to the Iron Empire, but she can’t help it. She doesn’t know how he manages to look so relaxed as he lounges around the ship or helps with the sails under the watchful eye of Leon and the Panrion crew, but then, he does have experience being stuck on a ship for weeks on end.
She finds herself alone on the deck that night, unable to sleep. As restless as she is, there’s an undeniable beauty to the endless ocean surrounding them. There’s hardly a breeze tonight, the sea lapping gently at the side of the ship and the sky so clear that the stars look almost close enough to touch.
“I wouldn’t have taken you for the star gazing type.”
A smile crosses her lips as Diavolos leans against the rail next to her.
“I’m not, usually,” Kenna says, turning towards him.
“I used to pick out the constellations when we were at sea,” he tells her. “Helped pass the time when I couldn’t sleep or when I was commanding at night.”
He chuckles at her expression. “You look surprised.”
“I didn’t take you for the star gazing type either.”
She looks back up at the night sky and points to a cluster of stars. “What’s that one?”
Diavolos looks up where she’s pointing. “Lyra.”
She scans the sky again as Diavolos inches closer, his hand brushing against hers. “And that one?” she murmurs.
“Canis Major.”
Kenna turns to look at him, his face just inches away, and her eyes settle on his lips. She’s been distracted by thoughts of kissing him since last night, torn between wanting to kiss him again, wanting more, and thinking that they shouldn’t.
He’s so unlike Luther, unlike Marco and Zenobia and Vasillios, that she sometimes almost forgets who he is and where he comes from. She likes him, which she never imagined herself saying about any member of the Nevrakis family. But he’s still Luther’s son, Marco’s half-brother, and she wonders if she could ever truly move past that. It’s easy to think she could, when he’s looking at her the way he is right now.
“What are you thinking?” he asks, his breath warm against her face.
“A lot of things,” she answers, then shakes her head. “Which constellation is your favorite?”
His lips quirk up in a half-smile. “Orion.”
“Which one is that?”
Diavolos steps behind her, sliding his hand over her arm and tangling his fingers with hers, lifting their joined hands to point at a group of stars above them. “Right there,” he murmurs in her ear, and Kenna’s breath catches at the feel of his chest pressed against her back as he points out the stars making up Orion.
He lowers their hands but doesn’t release his grip, his other arm slipping around her waist. She can feel her heart racing as she leans back against him. She’s glad it’s late and that nearly everyone is asleep, because she knows how bad this would look.
“What are you thinking?” she can’t help but ask in a whisper.
Diavolos squeezes her hip reflexively. “I’m thinking how much I want you,” he answers honestly, and her eyes close.
Why, why did she ask him that?
“We can’t,” she breathes out, opening her eyes again.
If she wasn’t the Queen of Stormholt, and he wasn’t the prince of Abanthus whose father had murdered her mother, if they were just two strangers, or two friends, or anyone else, maybe…maybe, she thinks regretfully.
Diavolos turns her around slowly, his hands settling on her hips.
“I like you,” she admits. “But we can’t have a one-time thing. Not with who we are.”
“Who said it would be a one-time thing?” Diavolos asks, bringing one of his hands up to tangle in her hair.
“I…” She trails off, doesn’t have a good answer to that.
Diavolos leans down, kissing her deeply, like he’s trying to convince her, and she can feel him grin at the quiet noise that escapes her mouth when he bites her lower lip.
“I meant what I said last night, Kenna,” Diavolos says, pulling back. “I want you. You know where to find me.”
She can just barely see his smile in the faint moonlight. “Good night, Kenna.”
“Good night.”
He walks off and Kenna exhales noisily, staring up at Orion, now so easy to find.