It had now been about three years since Roderick had lost his wife and daughter. He had finally decided to settle down for a little while. He was tired of absently taking jobs. He missed having one ship to work for or maybe he just missed the woman he had worked for. Hell, he knew he missed that woman. She still haunted his dreams and thoughts. He had once been a womanizer but now, he was just dreaming about the most incredible woman he had ever met.

So he had gotten himself a little hut on the edge of the beach. It was tiny and only had a living room that served as a kitchen and bedroom and a tiny bathroom that was jam packed. It wasn't like he needed a lot of space. He only had a few worldly possessions, most had been lost in the same storm that the only important people in his life had been destroyed in. He had some clothes, a clock, some kitchen things and bed clothes. He hadn't quite gotten around to procuring a dresser, the nomadic part of him still shining through in his huge duffel bag that he lived out of and hung in the corner.

He really hadn't changed anything to the house since he bought it three months ago. He had bought it because it was on the beach where he had waited and prayed for his daughter to wash up on. It made him feel close to her. The only thing he had really added was a pier that went out a decent distance into the ocean. He built two chairs onto it. He wasn't sure why he had chosen two but it had seemed empty with just once. It was sturdy and lasted through some of the worst storms. There was also the shell of the hull of a large galley on the beach that he was working on. He was going to name it Kali. He already had. Maybe he'd make a second for his wife.

That afternoon though, he sat on the edge of his pier, sitting and watching the water hit the surface of the ocean. It had been raining most of the day, the wind was picking up consistently through out the day and the lightening and thunder had just started up. He thought for a moment that he should probably head inside, lightening could get dangerous but he had to admit that he missed the storms. They were dangerous but it reminded him that he was still alive.

He took a swig from his bottle of beer and sighed. He was soaked through and through and he may end up paying for this with a cold but he didn't care. Somewhere out there was his wife and daughter. A large clatter near Kali made him turn. He saw the form of someone but with the rain it was hard to tell. He stood up and started walking down the pier. He found their mind. There's a huge storm blowing in. You may want to find cover.

It had been a brisk morning, and a cooler afternoon, when the rain had arrived, and now, as Anabella Jones wandered down the small slope toward the coast, she wondered what kind of storm was brewing just off shore. She'd seen some storms out here, but never a real wall-shaker. She'd always loved storms, especially when she was in front of the fire with a good book. The memory of her first reading of pirates danced in her head, and she smiled at the memory of being hidden under a blanket as her father acted out the story. She'd been caught, hook, line, and sinker, from that very first stormy night. Of course, the fact that the story was based in part on her lineage made it all the more exciting.

It took a great deal of strength from the Queen, sometimes, not to dance along the shore line singing a shanty or two, swinging the biggest stick she could find like a sword, but being twenty-six years old, and ruler of a Territory took some of the fun out of her old games. Of course, once there were more wards and such in her care, Bella would be free to dance the pirates jig as often as she liked, and be able to say it was for the children's entertainment, and not her own. When Izzy finally arrived, she'd be able to teach her about the buccaneers and men of the sea that once roamed the vast shores of Chaillot, and she'd probably delight in it more than her daughter.

As she skipped along the wet sand, a constant eye and ear out for anyone approaching who would frown at her child's play, Bella saw the husk of a boat not far away, and wondered if it was a wreck. It looked a little weathered, but she hadn't heard anything about any boats getting washed up lately. There hadn't been a storm strong enough. Following the path with her fingers trailing down the wall, Bella hummed to the plants and such that were growing in such harsh conditions, feeling their small bulbs and buds lift a little as she passed. It brought a smile to her, and the salty air that toussled her ponytail gave her cheeks a merry glow, even in the drizzle.

She eyed the boat, pausing and probing, just in case. Nothing. It was just a boat. She circled around the hull, approaching the stern cautiously. She ran a hand along the hard wood, feeling the splinters scratch at her palms, trying to find a footing. She smirked as none of them managed to wheedle their way into her skin. Soon though, as she turned to the starboard side, Bella felt the wood change under her palm. She looked, realising it hand been sanded finely along this side, and that someone had begun to restore the shell. She glanced around and caught sight of a man by the water's edge, a little way out on the pier. She wondered idly if this was his work.

She continued around to the bow, knocking a steel bucket into a pile of wood off-cuts. Cursing quietly, she looked around, sensing the mind glance against hers instantly. She smiled at the warning and looked over to the male. I thank you for your concern, Prince, but I have no fear of the storms. The electricity in the air makes me feel more alive. She felt the Opal Descent Jewel of the male and began to walk closer. The wind grew stronger, pulling strands of her hair from the band that held it back. She wondered if the man knew who she was yet, but she was willing to wait for his introduction first. Hopefully he wouldn't know who she was and do one of those poncy palm-up greetings. She shook her head, loosening more of her hair, and stood in the tumult at the end of the pier. He looked rugged, almost as weathered as the boat he was working on. His long hair, too, seemed unruly as hers. She couldn't make out a great deal of his features in the wind and rain that battered them both, but he seemed comfortable, and not overly dangerous.

"I'm Bella," she smiled, "Wouldn't it be an idea for you to find cover, too?"

There were only a few things that Roderick actually enjoyed doing. He liked working on that boat. He'd never really done it before he had moved to this spot but he found it cathartic. He was able to focus on something besides how lonely he was. He took pride in his work and, while he could have been closer to done then he was, he was far happier knowing that his work was turning out so well.

The other thing he liked doing was sitting on the dock and watching the waves roll. He knew these waters very well. He had spent a lot of time watching them. He'd strolled the deck with his wife on plenty of occasions that he knew how waves moved. He had stood by her side as she manned the wheel at night that he could navigate but the reflection of the stars in the water's surface. They had sat in the crows nest so much that the rocking of the ship, no matter how violent, was a soothing, calming motion. He knew that things had to move and so this pier moved a tiny bit in the waves. It felt like home.

However, neither of those gave him much of an opportunity to talk with people. Not that he wanted it. They always wanted to know his story. They said he had mysterious eyes but Roderick generally didn't care. They didn't need to know his story. It was his. His wife. His daughter. His horror. His pain. He just didn't want to share it. It almost cheapened it to tell strangers. So he would just say he was a pirate and they would scamper off or give him googly eyes. So he didn't do the whole protocol thing. He didn't listen to gossip or the newest news. What did it really matter?

As much as he generally didn't like people, the corners of his mouth quirked up just a little as she responded to his suggestion to find cover. She sounded like a woman, not just her voice but the words she said. Apparently he was very good at saying things that were double standards. Good for him. Women were meant to be protected, even if they weren't his. Its the way he was raised and apparently, he still stuck to that. "I probably should," He said in a gruff shout, the wind throwing his voice behind him. "But storms are calming."

A lightening bolt streaked through the sound, a clap of thunder shaking the air just a moment after wards. He looked to the sky and realized that the storm was growing in intensity and he just couldn't leave this dark queen out in the storm. He didn't really realize that it had gotten this powerful. He tried to shout some words to her but knew his voice simply wasn't making it. So instead, he found her mind again and tossed his head to the shack. *There's no other shelter for a while. Its kind of a crap hole but you can hunker down with me if you'd like until it blows over. I'd give it an hour or so.* He said as he tossed his eyes to the sky. There was a glimmer of light on the horizon poking through which meant the storm wouldn't last very long.

Bella wasn't sure what to make of the strange man way out on the pier. She imagined him to have spent some time at sea and that was why he chose to have the wooded area reach out so far. Perhaps he had once been a sailor, a merchant, and he enjoyed the feel of the sea. It was rhythmic and hypnotic, and Bella could see why someone would like it. Not that she had ever spent any time at sea - the closest she got to the water was out on one of the lakes or rivers with her boat. And then she was too busy on rowing to concentrate on the laps and ebbs of it.

She smiled at the mysterious voice that carried to her on the wind. It was faint, barely audible, because of the strength of the gusts, but it was pleasant enough. He sounded gruff, but it didn't concern her. He sounded like a man who always had a counter arguement, and Bella enjoyed spending time in the company of witty people. She continued to move closer, trying to get a better ciew of the man.

It was then that a long, white streak cut through the sky. A rumbling, terrifying clap of thunder rocked through the air after a few seconds, and Bella looked up to gauge the intensity. It seemed as if it were settling in to be quite ferocious, and it would certainly be magnificent to see, but perhaps it would be wise to find safety. With things as they were, Bella doubted Chaillot needed to lose its Queen so quickly, especially if it were down to her own stupidity. She smirked at her mother's heated words in the event of Bella's death as a result of looking up at the clouds too long.

She could hear the faint sound of his voice once more, but as the storm grew louder, she struggled to make any sense of it. She felt him touch her mind and smiled. She followed his look toward the patch of light in the bleak darkness. She felt herself blush at the idea of spending her time in a complete stranger's home for an hour. She was a friendly enough Queen, but there were limits to her idiocy, surely. It seemed she was going to prove her rational mind wrong and follow the advice of the man. *Thank you, Prince. I'd very much appreciate not being fried today.* She chuckled to herself, unsure of whether or not he picked up on the joke and headed toward the small abode.

As she entered, she smelled the sea, mixed with a hint of teak and wood stain. It seemed he had a very few posessions, but led a comfortable life. Nothing seemed significantly disturbing, and so Bella let her guard down for a moment. She settled into a old, tatty arm chair and gazed around. It certainly was.. sparse. She glanced toward the kitchen. The wind had chilled her to the bones. Of course, she had been stupid enough only to wear a summer dress and cardigan in the ever-changing climate of springtime Chaillot. She liked the red, though. As she took in her surroundings, of which there weren't many in the open room, Bella noticed the piles of clothes, and the table. A bed, and a clock. It was an enchanting, strange place. She noticed the bottles, a lantern, and a small photocraph, crumpled, but with pride of place over the bed. She wondered what was on it, and as much as she wanted to look or ask, she thought better of it.

She listened to the rain battering against the windows, along with the loud thunder that throbbed over the rooftop. Her mind came back to the cold that had seeped into her. "Do you have anything hot to drink, Prince? I'm bloody freezing." She sort of hoped that with the distraction, he would leave her to get a better look around without feeling too nosy.

Roderick didn't live a life of comfort. He wasn't used to it. All he needed was someplace to lay his head and somewhere else to store his beer. If there was someplace to get clean, that was better but it wasn't necessary. He had spent months at a time at sea and cleanliness wasn't exactly the first thing on everyone's mind. Figuring out how to get enough fresh water to keep the entire crew clean didn't matter. Staying alive in a volatile ocean mattered. Moving in the doldrums mattered. Keeping his wife and lover happy mattered.

So he hadn't seen the purpose to purchasing or even making a dresser for his clothes. They would be perfectly fine on the floor. He wasn't trying to impress anyone and he wasn't trying to make himself feel better about the place he lived. He spent more time outside then inside anyways. Why would he need a neat room. To be honest, for a little while, he had thought about taking down the walls to the bathroom so that he could just walk into them without the walls getting in the way. It wasn't as if he went into the bathroom if he was working outside. He simply used the natural bathroom outdoors.

As Anabella looked around, he knew that every woman in his life would have been mortified to have anyone else in this house and that thought made him feel a little bad. But what was he going to do? It was the way he was. He didn't exactly want to stand around as she looked at the squalor. He needed to do something and so he stepped into the bathroom, where the clean towels were piled together. He grabbed one and put a warming spell on it, wondering why woman insisted on wearing clothes that were not suitable for the season.

As she asked for something to drink, he nodded and handed her the towel. "Yeah. The only thing I have is coffee. Its a bit thick. Something that we make on ships." He explained as he walked to the cabinet and pulled out a tin and a strainer. The grounds were course and he dropped them into the strainer before placing it into a cup on the counter. He filled another cup with water and used craft to warm it up.

He turned back to the woman as the water warmed to see her looking around. He raised an eyebrow at her and wondered if the warm drink was merely a way of distracting him to look around. "If you're looking for some hidden treasure because you realize what ship I sailed on, I can promise you there is no treasure here. It was all lost when we were destroyed." Without turning around, he pulled the cup around and poured the water slowly into the grounds, knowing they would take a while to pour through.

He wasn't sure if he was mad at her or not. He did wonder if this was an accidental meeting. His claim was a little false, there was a small treasure buried but only Roderick would be able to find it. It was small trinkets that had washed up on the shore. It was buried just in case they showed up one day. Roderick wanted to make sure that there was something for them to survive on, something so that he could make a proper life for them. He sure as hell wasn't going to admit it to anyone though. His wife. His daughter. They're treasure. His to protect.

Bella watched the man. Watched how he watched her like she were the enemy. Why did he think that? Why had his opinion suddenly changed? It instantly put her hackles up, and as much as she didn't want them to be, generally being such a placcid person, Bella felt the need to defend herself should the occassion call for it. of course, he hadn't done anything directly, nor said anything, but she still felt as though she were being eyed, someone waiting for her to make the wrong move. Hell, she felt like that quite often behind closed doors. She was the Queen of Chaillot who hadn't saved everybody yet. She wasn't a miracle-worker! She needed time, and time was something everybody seemed so short of right now.

She was incredibly curious though as to why he had let her in in the first place. Surely he must know who she was? She was the only Queen in Chaillot that she knew of that wore the Ebon Grey, and yet, he didn't seem to bat an eye. And then watching her like a hawk... Perhaps he thought she would be easy prey, lonely and outside in a storm... No, surely not. He had invited her in for shelter. So why did she feel so uncomfortable? Her mother's face popped into her head, adn Bella knew it must have been the mess. While she'd have felt it was homely, her mother would have had a fit if she knew her daughter were in a strange man's house, surrounded by... Darkness only knows what.

She thanked him for the towel, and felt a little bad for being so mentally harsh on him when he had warmed it for her. She strengthened the warming spell with her own Craft and wrapped it gratefully around herself. She turned slowly to him, however, once more wary, when he commented first on treasure, then on a ship, and then on the ship being destroyed. "I can assure you Prince, I'm not looking for any treasure. You invited me in, remember." She spoke calmly, but for the first time in a long while, Bella felt the need to remind the man that she outranked him, and as much as she hated to enforce Protocol, he had no right to make such assumptions. The way he never turned from her unsettled and rankled her even more. She wasn't ready to fight with the stranger, it would only trip her up when word got around. "But I am curious as to what ship you sailed on. My great, great, oh, I don't know how many greats, but someone I'm related to first arrived in Chaillot with pirates." She looked at him, mystery in her eyes. "Are you a pirate, Prince?"

Feeling her mood shift, Bella looked away. He made her feel like a criminal, under constant scrutiny. Didn't she get enough of that from everyone else? She surely didn't need it from a bedraggled sailor, too. She moved around the room a little, looking out of the windows at the rough waves to calm her mind. "I always wanted to be a pirate when I was little. The stories they tell fascinate me." She smiled, not really talking to him, or anyone, in particular, just wrapped in the warm towel, staring out at the sea. "Of course, I can't tell them from experience, but everyone at the Keep seems to enjoy a mutinous tale or two once in a while." She just hoped it wasn't going to be for real some day.

Roderick was really trying hard to not throw this woman out at the moment. Maybe he was being edgy but that came with the lifestyle he had lived and, in some ways, still was. Trust wasn't something he could afford to have. He had trusted his wife and his crew to an extent but that had been it. He still hadn't learned to trust anyone else and he had no desire to trust anyone else. People were liars. They would come if they knew who he was and what potential treasures he held. They would try to con him out of what he had saved for his daughter and wife. They would attack him and try to kill him. He didn't trust strangers.

Even this queen, he didn't particularly trust. He couldn't explain why but he didn't while at the same time, a part of him wanted to. He chalked it up to this woman's identical caste to his daughter's. That was simply all it had to be. He listened and she seemed sincere. There was nothing in her eyes or body language that indicated that she was a liar. That didn't mean he could just trust her though. Some people were good actors and could fake a lie very well. It was rare but it happened.

Roderick handed the coffee to the woman as asked him if he was a pirate. He huffed a little, realizing that she was one of those star struck people who loved pirate stories but didn't realize the cost of the profession. "Yeah, I was a pirate. I haven't sailed for a long time though. Be careful with the coffee. It holds its heat for a long time." Roderick stood on the other side of the window and watched as she stared out at the window.

He crossed his arms over his chest and sipped at his coffee. She was a dreamer and while part of Roderick really wanted to squash that dream, part of him knew that dreams were important. It didn't mean he could ignore the truth. "Be glad you didn't get to follow that dream lady. The cost of being a pirate is very high." He said looking at her before turning his eyes back outside.

He was being improper and he knew it. Everyone would have yelled at him for behaving rudely to a guest but he just couldn't seem to stop. He may as well try though. "Since you didn't become a pirate, what did you become?"

Anabella listened to the man's huff, and wondered why someone with such a free lifestyle would think it not so blissful. If she had the chance, she'd sail away on a boat made of dreams and not look back for a long time, until this entire mess was sorted, and she could relax a little. It seemed she was on pins all day lately, and she hadn't had any time to go out on the lakes, or indeed do any of the things she had once enjoyed. Still, everything had a price, and she had thought herself fit to rise to this challenge. It just seemed like everybody wanted something of her, and she had no time to enjoy the life she had taken up.

She continued to stare outside as he spoke of the cost of being a pirate. No words came from her, only the silent rise of an eyebrow. 'What doesn't? she thought bitterly. Even talking to a man in the street had a price, talking to a stranger, someone who should never pose a threat to anyone, and suddenly they wanted the money from your purse or the heart from your chest. She listened to the rain outside, watching the lines on the window. Running constantly downward until the pooled into one big heavy bubble that burst when it hit the floor beneath them. Like so many people's dreams.

She turned her head ever so slightly toward him when he spoke again, unaware that he had been watching her. She should have been more cautious, of course, but Bella was caught up in the endless streams of rainwater on the window. It was almost hypnotic. "The Queen," she answered non-commitally. She drew herself out of her reverie and chanced a glance at the stranger. "The Queen of Chaillot," she whispered. After a sigh, she flopped down onto the sofa and looked into her cup. "I know I'm not doing a very good job, you can say it." There was a hind of comaderie in her voice, but Bella felt stung that she admitted it so outwardly. It wasn't her fault. It was just a lot harder than she had imagined, especially when there was really no hope to be had.

She took a deep drink of the bitter brew and grimaced, changing the subject completely for only a second. She needed it once in a while. That brief moment before people knew who she was. "You should really get some better coffee, Prince." She smiled weakly and looked up at him. He didn't seem overly approachable, and yet, even if the rain subsided, Bella wasn't sure she wanted to leave. It seemed so much less... difficult in here. Part of her wondered if Nymphea thought she was faring any better than she herself had as Queen, or whether some day someone would trump her, the way she had Nymphea.

As quickly as she had side-tracked moments ago, she slipped back into the cool Queen she so hated to be. "You tell me there's a price to being a pirate, I say the same about rulership."

Roderick knew that he shouldn't be so strict or negative with this queen. They were important after all and sometimes they needed a bit of encouragement. They were supposed to be the positive uplifting ones but at the same time, they couldn't be the only positive ones. Even the most optimistic of people had their bad days. Even Kali who had a ship full of playmates and the access to the most amazing views and nature filled adventures had her off days.

So as the queen admitted who she was and sat down as though she was defeated, Roderick tried to think of what he would have told Kali if she had been in this position. He would have tried to be comforting and held her in his lap but that was inappropriate in this position. This queen was a stranger and far older than Kali had been. Maybe some words of encouragement. "Well, the land needs time to adjust to a new queen doesn't it? And if you were really doing a bad job, this area would have been affected and so far, its not." Was that really encouraging? He hoped so as he stared into his coffee and took a sip.

Unfortunately, the sip came with her comment about needing new coffee. He snorted out something of a laugh and spit a bit of the coffee over the rim of the glass. It was brand new coffee but the expression was pretty spot on. "Sorry. I know its an acquired taste but its pretty addictive once you get used to it. That other stuff just isn't strong enough to compete with the salt air or water."

He stood up to get a napkin and handed it to the queen as he tried to clean up what he could find. "There's a price to everything Lady." He said as his mood turned dark. "Being a pirate cost me my wife and daughter to the sea and every other important person in my life." He threw the towels out and leaned against one of the cabinets. "I guess it depends on what you do after the price is paid. I made this place in case they survived and that ship that you were playing with, that is dedicated to my daughter."

He nodded to the picture over his bed. "That's them." It was his way of giving her permission to look at them. He called over his coffee from where he had left it. "I met Nymphea once, during the plagues that were ruining everything. Delivered a message for her. What happened to her?" He asked. Not that he was especially close to the old queen but he was curious to know.

Bella didn't comment on the Prince's words, she simply nodded solemnly, and wished her prayers upon him silently. There was nothing she could say to make his pain any less, so she decided to say nothing, but acknowledge his opening up to her. She glanced over at the picture and smiled, remembering when things were easier for everyone. She saw a glimmer of hope in the distance now and then, and hearing this man's hope for his future reunion, whether he spoke it or not, made her savour that glance at the horizon, that glance at the light. She had to start somewhere, why not here? She wrung her hands, feeling bad for touching such a sacred piece of work. What was the price? What would she do after it was paid? She had to step up to the line, she was going to have to cross it, even. She was going to have to ask for help.

With a sigh, she felt the Prince's next words penetrate her bones and grate her nerves. She hadn't spoken to anyone about Nymphea, not really. She wasn't sure she was willing to offer it to this stranger. But then, he had given her something to go on about himself. She should be kind enough to return the favour. With a second sigh, Bella turned away from the Prince, and stared distractedly at the window, past the glass, into nothing. "Nymphea stepped down." She said quietly. She smiled grimly. "She was told it was the greater choice, the only option." She looked at the Prince with sadness in her brown eyes. "She was told it would save Chaillot from the plague." She looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers in the cold to prevent them from seizing. "I guess her advisor wasn't entirely correct."

She pushed herself away from the couch, restless. "It had to start somwhere, and a weak Queen was not doing anything to help the rumbles in the distance. People are ready to revolt in some towns, and Nymphea couldn't have used any more of her strength to fight that." She clenched her teeth and clenched her fist at her side. "Nymphea stepped down because I told her to. Because I could do better." She smirked at the Prince. His words had been... different. But they had been encouraging in part. Perhaps this was all just an adjjustment. She still had time. SHhe shrugged and opened her mouth to speak as a bolt of lightning blazed in the clouds and traced a thick, terrifying line down the window, hitting a pile of drift wood several hundred feet away and causing embers to fly in the wind. As quickly as she saw it hit, a resounding bellow of thunder shook the walls of the small abode, threatening to pierce her eardrums, and to stop her heart from beating.

With a frightened gasp, she turned away from the shaking glass, and buried her face in the Prince's shoulder. Her cup slipped from her hand and hit the teak flooring with a thunk, before separating from itself completely, and splaying tiny shards of porcelain, and rich rivers of coffee across the room. She murmured an apology and panted, her breaths heavy and laboured. "I'm so sorry," she whispered into the Prince's shoulder once more.

Nobody ever knew how terrified of thunder Anabella Jones was. It wasn't a weakness she liked to display. Until now.

Roderick had to admit that this conversation was severely lacking but there wasn't much he was willing to do about it. Conversations made people close and Roderick did not want to get close to anyone at all. It was not a slight against the queen who was now a guest in his rundown home. She was a person and Roderick knew that he and his life routinely disappointed people and destroyed their lives. Why would he start any form of conversation if he was bound to destroy them?

It only took a few moments for the queen to explain how she came to replace Nymphea. Had Roderick been closer to the now ex-quen of Chaillot, perhaps he would have asked what she meant by asked her to leave. Perhaps he would have been angered by the fact that Nymphea did not have much of a chance to take on the rule. Perhaps he would have congratulated this new queen for replacing someone who may not have done anything good for Chaillot. He just didn't know.

What he did know was that Anabella was upset by the whole experience. That was pretty obvious in her expression as she stared out the window. Roderick almost felt bad for her. Almost. It was her history. It had sent her here.

That thought, that idea, shocked him for a moment. What did it matter if she was here? Roderick had given up long ago on the plans of the Darkness long ago. He no longer cared about what the Darkness planned for him. If the Darkness was sending the territory queen to him, the Darkness could keep its reasonings to itself. Roderick simply didn't care anymore.

Suddenly, the queen was in his arms as a particularly loud clap of thunder burst through the house. It was instinct that made Roderick wrap his arms around her. Fear was not something that Roderick dealt well with. He hated it. There was no room for fear on the pirate ships. When he smelled fear, it made all of his protective instincts jump to the forefront. The clashing glass meant nothing to him. His arms were tight around the small of her back and her shoulders, wanting to make her feel as safe as possible.

He didn't know what to say to her though. Why in the world she was afraid of thunderstorms was unknown to him. He just held her a few moments, trying his best to not feel guilty. He wasn't doing anything wrong even if he did want to draw his sword to defend her. That was also a very strange sensation. Once the thunder died down, Roderick pulled back. "Don't worry lady. There's nothing to fear. At least not from the storm. The house is reinforced with craft to protect from the storms."

Roderick called over a towel and began cleaning up the mess, throwing the shards of the cup away. "Why are you afraid of them?"

Bella looked sadly at the Prince before her. She hated making herself look weak, hated having to admit things about her private life to anyone. And yet, here she stood, in front of a perfect stranger, having just been tightly wrapped in his arms. It had felt warm, comforting, but something still made her feel ridiculously stupid as he looked at her. He wasn't one for conversation, she had thought, and having this strange woman jump into his arms probably put him off even more.

When he asked about her reasons for fearing the storm, she backed away a little, turning her head. She no longer wanted to look out of the window, nor did she want to stare into the man's home. She looked at her hands, fiddling with her nails for a moment as she spoke quietly. "I... had a bad experience during a storm once." She glanced at him before returning her attention to her nails. "Nothing too bad came of it, but they still remind me of the terror I felt that night." She bit her lip. Had she said too much? Would he ask another awkward question that she'd have to answer with a riddle?

She looked down at the mess and felt terrible. "I'm sorry, I should be doing that," she knelt down and held her hand out for the towel, "you shouldn't have to clean up my mess, Prince." She smiled as warmly as she could, but it wavered slightly. She wanted to tell him more, wanted to tell him her life story, but he didn't seem to want to know, didn't seem to care much for other's strife, so she held it in. The lump in her throat disappearing slowly as she swallowed once or twice.

She couldn't risk making even more of a fool of herself.

"Haven't you ever been afraid of anything?" She instantly recalled the loss of his wife and daughter and felt her face burn with a crimson glow. "Oh, Mother Night, I'm so sorry, I... I didn't mean... I..." She looked down and sighed at herself, almost wanting to laugh at the situation. "I don't think I'm in a particularly endearing mood today, am I? I'm sorry."

Roderick wasn't sure why the queen was so set on helping him clean up. Of course cleaning was helping him stay calm as he heard that something had terrified her when she was younger. Where had her parents been to protect her and keep her from being terrified? Whenever Kali had been afraid, Roderick had been ready to destroy whatever it was that had scared her. He had never even considered something else could possibly exist.

Even the rough and gruff prince could feel for the queen who said she was a bit off. He was sure that he wasn't helping any but he didn't know how to stop being so standoffish. It had helped him through everything and he didn't really want to change that for a stranger. Even one that reminded him so much of Kali. Well, not exactly. There was something else to this queen and something else to Kali. He just couldn't figure out what it was. What he did know is that is was something beyond Kali being his daughter and this woman not being his daughter.

He shrugged his shoulders as he called over a bag and dumped the shards of the cup into it. "I don't really think you need to be on everyday. What's one afternoon of being off? Especially when there's no one important around to tell you so. Just a beach hermit." He said with a nod. He really wasn't important. He had no real say anywhere anymore.

He wiped his hands off and sat down on his bed. "And yes, I have been afraid before. The first big storm on a ship was really bad. I was sure the ship was going to capsize." Of course, the storm that took his two girls from him had also been bad and landing on a beach by yourself had been no picnic. He was sure she had figured that out. Maybe its why I admire storms so much. I've seen just how much power they have."

What else could he say to help make her feel better? Or at least a little less frustrated with whatever was bothering her. Maybe she felt like she needed to be all formal because she was the ruler of the territory. "And lady, you really don't need to call me Prince. Roderick is fine. Nothing here is all that formal. And soon the storm will pass and it will be sunset and the beach is pretty amazing at that time."

Anabella was not used to being in the company of strangers for so long. Well, that wasn't true, she wasn't used to being in the company of strangers who didn't much want her company. He seemed so quiet and brooding, which any person would have been he'd they lost the two people they loved most in the world. But judging by the layer of dust that he'd begun to gather on some of the items in the shack,he must have been here some time, and maybe should have begun to heal some of his wounds.

Bella smiled warmly, a soft chuckle escaping her and coating the air with a lighter mood. "I'm sure even a beach hermit could have something important to bring to the table." She glanced at him as he threw her mess away, with no indication he was annoyed at the occurrence. "Especially someone with as many tales to tell as you." As he continued, Bella nodded solemnly, thinking of the fear she would feel in that kind of situation. She could never have made a pirate because of it,and her empathy showed.

"They do have an awesome power, I agree. They seem to amplify a situation, make it more dramatic." She didn't elaborate, but something went blank in her mind, and her mouth ran away momentarily. "My daughter --" she stopped, horror constricting her heart. "Sorry," she gushed, correcting herself, "my friend's daughter, she used to love storms. Even if we cowered from the noise, she'd happily giggle along." She glanced outside, seeing the rain ease a little and a faint glimmer of blue sky on the distant horizon. "Children are fearless."

When he corrected her formality, she blushed a little, bowing her head with a shy smile as she repeated his name. She chose not to agree about the lack of formality, she didn't want to offend him when he'd at least tried to be hospitable.

"Well, Roderick," she smiled, her brown eyes brightening as the gloom began to recede, "I'd love to see that, if I wouldn't be intruding any more than I already have been."