The Poop Deck

Having stowed her trunk in the cabin below her, Ciar stood at the front of the poop deck keeping a steady eye on the going ons of the people on deck. Her hands rested elegantly on the railing as she scanned the deck for any misbehaviour, fights, or potentially dangerous situations. It wasn't her job but as one of the oldest students on the ship she took it upon herself to ensure the well being of the younger years. She would be sixteen by mid September making her pretty much the oldest of the fifth years.

Turning her back and leaning against the rail the teen made a small gesture to Phelan. Immediately the wolf stood and trotted off, down onto the deck to ensure the safety of the students. Ciar had claimed the poop deck as her own and not many dared challenge her over it. Not with the protection of two master's behind her. Her red robes blew gently in the clean sea breeze and her black hair whipped softly around her face. It was a new year and not only did she have to keep an eye on the returning students but the new exchange students as well.

Luc was glad to be rid of his father again. He'd gotten nothing but abuse from his father all holidays and Ksenia had been no help. He reaised his hand up to feel the black eye and cut just below it. It would take years to begin to trust his father again. Years and years of more training and verbal abuse no doubt.

He sighed heading up to the poop deck. He wanted to be alone and away from those staring and asking questions. "Oh." He said stopping at the top of the stairs. "I didn't realise..." He muttered turning to leave. Someone had obviously beaten him to it.

Ciar looked over at the stairs at the sound of someone coming up and speaking. She thought she recognized him from school but hadn't taken any classes with him. "Stop," she said forcefully as he turned away.

Approaching softly in her new calf hugging leather boots she tilted her head as she drew close enough to see his injuries. He seemed to have been fighting. "It's Sicarius, right," the Irish teen asked not staring at one place but glancing all over his body as if trying to determine if he was injured else where. "I have a balm for the bruise if you want. I never go anywhere without it." Digging it out from an inner robe pocket Ciar held out the small jar of Bruise Paste. "Might I inquire as to what fighting style you were using when you ran into the door?" She gave a small smirk, the closest she really came to a smile.

Luc stopped still and waited her for to say something. He turned to look at her and gave her a slight nod. "Lucifer." He said giving her a bow of his head. She seemed to be sizing him up but he didn't care. He wasn't in the mood for fighting right now.

He looked at her and couldn't help but crack a small smile. "I wish i did, but the doors not something i can fight." He shrugged, grateful for the balm. "Thanks. I've had enough of the stares already and we've not even reached the island yet."

Handing over the small jar Ciar shrugged, "I know what it's like to be on the receiving end of the stares thanks to many fights with doors. I have found that pulling out a knife or some other sharp, throwable object and start to methodically sharpen it, the stares seem to go away." She rolled her eyes. "I wonder why that would happen."

Gesturing over to the rail she had been leaning on the Irish teen invited, "You could join me if you would like. I've claimed the area for the older years so that we don't need to mingle with the youngings." Ciar stuck out her hand. "Name's Whelan, by the way. Ciar Whelan."

"Oh you too?" He asked gratefully taking the jar. "But for a guy thats supposed to remain under the radar. It's not such a good thing... for me or them." He said not bothering to go into further detail. He didn't think he could.

He smiled. "Well i have plenty of them. Thanks for the tip i'll be sure to use it on the next one that looks at me without real reason." He said unscrewing the cap and applying some of the cream to his face. Oddly it felt good but if his father found out... he'd be dead. "Some people are weak. We're the stronger of our race." He smiled, he had a feeling his father would definitely approve of her.

"Thank you. I'd rather not mix with the others right now. Im really not in the mood for their questions." He said handing her back the small jar. "Oh the other Hrabrost Prefect." He said taking her hand and shaking it. "Nice to finally meet you." He said with a bow of his head.

"Likewise," Ciar replied shaking his hand and slipping the jar back into her inner pocket. Making her way back over to her original spot leaning against the railing she commented, "I find that guys who try to act tough are merely trying to compensate for something. Sure, it's nice to be the guy that doesn't back down from a fight unless it's smarter to just walk away. I find guys that tell blatant lies when they do run into doors to be weaklings. When they have to make up stories to cover up their own clumsiness."

She smirked. "We are the stronger ones, that is true. Even we have our weak moments though, do we not? We are not infallible and have a weakness, no matter how deeply buried, that could spell our ruin." She leaned back her head, exposing a pale neck with a small scar running across it diagonally. The Irish teen loved to feel the sea breeze whip her hair around and feel the spray against her face. Having been raised on an island she had a deep connection to both the land and the sea and it gave her strength.

"Most guys that act tough aren't really touch at all. Intimidation plays a big part in scaring people away from fighting you. Its a technique i neither use or get bothered by." He shrugged.

"I think my face proves i have at least one weakness. Doors apparently." He moved slowly following her over to the rails. He wanted to look down at the students as they arrived. It would give him time to look at who he was going to be up against as prefect.

"It appears you've been witness to your weaknesses too." He said spotting the scar on her neck. "You don't have to answer and i don't mean to be rude but how did it happen?" He asked looking down below them, some scars had stories you didn't want to recall so he thought he'd aleast give her the option to react without his gaze looking upon her.

Turning so her back was against the railing Ciar leaned on her elbows so she could look at Lucifer better, she studied the boy for a few moments. Moving a hand up her chest to trace the scar at her neck she thought back to when she had received it. There were so many scars and so many stories connected to each one. Maybe one day she'd be able to tell the stories about all of them but some had been received under less than stellar circumstances.

"It was a training accident," she explained softly, deciding to tell the truth. The boy was after all a fellow prefect and they'd be responsible for their house together. "I was sparring with an acquaintance and I swear they were the biggest bumbling, blithering buffoon I've ever seen hold a sword. I gave them the beat down my reputation was known for and then when I reached down to disarm them as my father had ordered me the moment before he slashed blindly and caught me in the throat. It was only thanks to the Healer on hand that I only walked away with a scar."

The Irish teen lowered her hand again. "I never again sparred with the idiot and my father never watched any of my training sessions after that. I'm sure he would have rather seen me die then mar my skin with yet another scar. He only ever cared about marrying me off, but I wanted to be a warrior like my forefathers. My father is the only Whelan in a long line that cannot wield a sword because he's so damn clumsy. Not that you can tell really. He has no natural grace though." Ciar shook her head in disappointment. And they say I'm the black sheep in the family, she thought.

He laughed, he couldn't help himself. She was exactly the kind of girl his father would pay to have him marry. She could fight, she didn't let anyone push her around and in his eyes, she'd be perfect. "Forgive me, i've just realised, we have far more in common than i first though."

"I myself come from a long line of assassins. I have no choice but to follow in their footsteps, one foot out of line and well... the face explains better than words." He shrugged. He might as well start being truthful, they were going to need to get along if they were to manage Hrabrost together.

"Ugh marriage. I've heard that word more than enough times already. It's all pure blood families seem to care about. Do you get dragged to the parties too? To watch all the girls show themselves off hoping to catch one of the wealthier families eyes?" He said rolling his eyes. He hated them all, he'd managed to escape a few because of training but those he didn't were a nightmare.

Her grey eyes reflected a strange emotion. It was almost tenderness but Ciar had never really felt tenderness for another person, save one or two. It was more an understanding. An understanding about how much the two of them really did have in common, more than either of them really realized. She reached up her hand and hesitantly held her fingers a hairs breadth from Lucifer's skin just below his eye, waiting to see if he'd allow the touch.

"My father gave up trying to marry me off at the age of ten," she admitted. "The same time that I was branded as an outcast. He decided that it wasn't worth the effort anymore. Before he sent me to Finland he told me that he washed his hands of anything to do with me. I could still call myself a Whelan, but I'd be more like a servant than a part of the family." She hid the sudden sadness that welled up in her. "I never went to the parties. I was never paraded around to find a suitable match. I was sent away to learn honour and what a true Pureblood is like." Ciar shook her head. There was so much her parents didn't understand.

"It's okay." He said softly. Usually he allowed no one to touch him, being close meant no way to defend yourself but she seemed different. He had no idea why he just knew it would be okay.

"He made you an outcast?" He asked feeling himself slowly getting annoyed with her father. He didn't even know the guy but already he wanted to kill him. "What if you found a husband your father would be proud of would, he take you back into the family?" He asked. It didn't seem fair her getting kicked out her family. There was no greater dishonour than getting disowned so he could only imagine how she must have felt.

"Im sorry. Your father doesn't seem to know what good he has right infront of him. Any guy would be lucky to have you. In fact my father would be more than thrilled if i brought you home. He's very picky but you're not one to just let him walk all over you, he'd respect that."

Her fingers ghosted across the boy's skin as she caressed his face. She had never touched anyone like this, not even her brother. It was always guarded touches if any at all. This was so raw and uninhibited that she was in awe. Ciar nodded slowly as she continued to move her fingers over his cheek in an almost stroking gesture. "Yes, he branded me and all but drove me from my family. He couldn't drive me completely away though because he knew he still needed me. I handle all the interactions with the Gringott's goblins and I negotiate any and all contracts for the family. I know more about wizarding law and tradition than most of the magical community, which also means I know how to get around it. My father couldn't even bind me in a marriage contract."

She gave a small smile as she said, "If I managed to find a husband or any sort of partner that could accept me and my many flaws I think my father would die of shock. I for one wouldn't be sorry to see him go. I'd finally be free to bring the true meaning of honour back to the Whelan line." Her fingers moved and her thumb replaced them in the same gentle stroking motion. It was a soothing motion; it distracted her from the fact that she was in fact telling Lucifer things she had never told anyone else. "If I could earn respect just by being me it would be a large upgrade. Many Pureblooded families that I've interacted with still view women as items to be bought and sold, and bodies to carry on the family line. We are worth nothing except our dowry given to keep our betrothed happy."

Ciar watched her thumb in it's path across Lucifer's skin. "I am no prize for any person. My flaws outweigh my good points and my beauty has been marred by harsh punishments. You're father would be thrilled up until the point that he realized that I am much to broken to be of any use." The Irish teen sighed and her shoulders slumped slightly.

"Branded?" He asked, hoping she didn't mean what he thought she meant. But what other meanings were there? He closed his eyes and sighed. "Our fathers must know each other, they are too alike not too. My father treats me like rubbish but expects me to blindly follow his orders and eventually take over the family legacy." He placed his hand over hers. His touch being light as he took her hand and just looked at it in his.

"Everyone has flaws Ciar, it's what makes us human. Mine get pointed out to me on a daily basis. Kinda gets old after awhile but it doesn't stop you from hearing it." He shrugged, his eyes never leaving their hands. He smiled and looked up. "You'll soon find that there are pureblood families out their with more modern beliefs. There aren't many but they are definitely out there. Those are the kind that think all women should be treated like Queens. They are the backbones of this world. Without women in the world where would we be?"

"Your beauty has no been marred, i seen now clearer than i see anything else. You're beauty goes beyond what even words can describe. I wouldn't believe it myself if my eyes had caught it for themselves. You cannot hide beauty such as yours. It's powerful." He said locking eyes with her. His words just seem to roll out before he could figure out what he was saying. A blush rushed across his face as he moved to the edge of the deck to survey the students. What was he saying?

"I appologise if i spoke out of line. I don't know what came over me."

Ciar gazed at their connected hands and felt her heart speed up a bit. What had gotten into her? It wasn't like her to react like this for anyone, except the one time she had held Sheba close last year. Swallowing back her fears and the sudden thickness in her throat she listened to him, as he had listened to her. The way he spoke about his father treating him and how real women should be treated made her heart ache in a way in shouldn't have. It was too late to turn back now though. Then there was the way he spoke of her beauty. It made her go weak to here someone speak of her like that. Someone who saw her and truly thought she was beautiful.

Making her way to his side the Irish teen looped her left arm around Lucifer's right. "And what about you," she asked curiously her grey eyes glinting slightly in the light. "How do you believe a woman should be treated?" She shifted slightly and pulled up the left sleeve of her robe, backing it out of the boy's arm slightly. "I was branded for protecting my brother. For giving him the chance to live when my sister had died." Ciar exposed the ugly black mark on her forearm. "Is that the type of beauty someone wants polluting their line? The beauty of a marked woman? If saying that I am beautiful even despite my scars and my brand is speaking out of line then I want you to be far over the line."

He glanced at her arm as it slide into his and smiled. It was weird how he could feel so at ease with her. Usually no one touched him if they wanted to keep their hand, but with Ciar he couldn't bring himself to care. He liked her touch, it was soothing weirdly.

"Me? Im very much like my father when it comes to women. I believe they are what keeps the family together. Women deserve the utmost respect. Its why im aiming to protect them. Im going to take out as many rapists, murderers and women abusers out as i can.

He looked at her arm in shock. Who could do such a thing? "Your father did this?" He asked taking hold of her arm to run his thumb lightly over the brand. "We all have our own scar and brands Ciar." He said pulling down the collar of his shirt to show a long scar flowing from the bottom on his neck and onto his chest. "A training session with father gone wrong. I wasn't quick enough and i payed the price."

"If they truly loved you no branding should matter. Everyone can look past that and see you for who you are but the point is can you?" He asked with a smile.

Ciar gazed at Lucifer's thumb brushing over her branded skin. It sent shock waves up her spine and the sensation caused goosebumbs on her skin. Looking up at his scar she lightly brushed her free hands fingers over the white skin. So much alike, she thought her grey eyes locking on the boy's. How much is still yet to be seen.

"How can I see who I really am if I don't even know," she asked. "I know I'm a good dueler and a protective older sister. Growing up a little warrior without knowing the affection of my parents and having to constantly push myself just so that I could show my brother a better way to lead his life. You know I taught him how to play the violin and how to read. He's the best thing I've ever done in life." Ciar moved her fingers and lay her hand against Lucifer's face. "Who am I, Lucifer? What do you see in me?" She gave a small smile and stroked his skin slightly.

A slight shiver ran through his spine as her hands brushed against his scar. She was the first person to see it outside of his family never mind touch it. "No one really knows who they are, only who they are supposed to be. I'm supposed to become my father and I will because I can't face my fate if I don't." He said cupping a hand over hers.

"But you, you're making your own path. Nothing is set in stone for you Ciar because you won't let it be. You're free to be whoever you want to be." He said he truly did admire her for that. She had the strength he didn't.

"You don't have to be like him," she whispered. "You don't have to become him." She moved the arm Lucifer was holding to wrap partway around his waist, her hand resting in the small of his back. With this move her body drew slightly closer, almost close enough to touch.

"You could come travel along my path, Lucifer. You could break out of the stone and learn that fate always has a different plan if we're willing to follow it." Her grey eyes sparkled slightly as her fingers began moving of their own accord, making little circles in the small of the boy's back. "You could be free if you just tried to stretch your wings a bit. If there is one thing that I've learned growing up is that fate may change her mind about the path we're walking on but they all lead to one place." She gave a small smile. "As a child of the Emerald Isle I have always believed that fate leads us to our destiny. If you are destined to take over your family then that's where your path will lead. It doesn't mean you have to become your father though. You are so much better of a man then him."

"I do. I need to be like him if i want to take over the family name and i want that more than anything Ciar." He said turning to look at her. It meant so much to him and there was no way he was going to be the one to break tradition. "There would be no greater dishonor if i were to go against tradition. I can't face that."

"I don't think i can. This is all i know, without this, without my family i am no one. Im not like you Ciar, im not strong enough to surivive on my own." He frowned placing a hand on her arm to play with her shirt. It gave him something to look at as he said the things he never thought he would. A shiver ran down his spine as her thumb ran circle at the small of his back. It felt weird but nice. It was strange for him.

He smiled a little. "Thank you. I certainly like to think so, I don't think i could ever become him. Not really. I could never abuse my kids like he does. I know he has our best interests at heart but it's like his heads somewhere else. Does that make sense?" He asked.

"You wouldn't be on your own," Ciar said leaning a bit closer. "You wouldn't even have to break tradition. I brought back tradition, when my father disowned it. There is no greater honour than being true to yourself. And there is no greater treasure than one's children. If you take the step away from the abuse you are already not your father. You are better than him."

Sliding forward she felt a small jolt go through her as she connected chest to chest with Lucifer. "Your family can help define who you are but not where you go," Ciar breathed. "You could stay on the path you're on or you could travel along mine for a bit. Something tells me that fate brought you to this time and place for a reason. The Emerald Isle takes care of her children and it's telling me that this moment in time is for a reason." Slowly edging her way closer to Luc's face the Irish teen took the final breathless plunge, her heart hammering in her chest as she rose onto her tip toes and pressed her lips against Lucifer's.

He shook his head. "You don't understand. The Sicarius traditions are set in stone, if i were to break one whilst my father was incharge he'd kill me. He'd rather see me dead than have to admit to everyone that he failed." He said, he couldn't never subject his brother to this though. His life was bad enough without being shoved into his spotlight.

"Sergius is his back up plan. If i fail, he steps up into my shoes. How sick is that? He doesn't care for either of us, especially not my brother but its better for him to be in my shadow. It's an easier life." He admitted. "I'll bring back family tradition when i have kids. I'll show them what it means to be a family. I'll give them the life my mother wished us to have."

Lucifers breath stilled as she came face to face with him. He'd never done anything like thise before, hell he'd never even thought of doing anything like thise before. Where normal boys his age were obsessed with girls he was more concerned about making his father pleased with his training. Her lips met his and for a moment his mind stopped completely. No, visions of seeing her death. No plans flooding his mind, no nothing. Just utter peace. It felt nice.

His hand slipped around her waist drawing her closer whilst the other moved along to rest at the back of her neck holding her in place. Why did he find himself wanting her so badly?

She wanted to deepen the kiss, the connection that had opened up between them. Pulling back just enough to whisper against Lucifer's lips she softly said, "I do understand. Probably more than you will ever realize. I know you won't fail, Luc. You'll show your father and everyone else what a true Sicarius is." Ciar's arm tightened around the boy's waist and her other arm snaked around his neck. She knew what Lucifer was talking about. It was rather like her life. If she failed in keeping her parent's attention and trying to keep them happy then Zephan would suffer. That was something she could never let happen.

Never before had the teen ever felt something like this. Her heart was pounding but her mind was completely at peace. It just felt so right to be wrapped in Lucifer's arms, their breaths mingling. "I won't let you fail," Ciar whispered before connecting their lips again and swiping her tongue over his bottom lip, begging for entrance.

He no longer cared. In fact he couldn't even remember what he'd been talking about. All that mattered now was her, for all he cared his father could lose everything. Nothing could tear him away from her right now.

How could something so wrong feel so right? Even the constant headache he suffered didn't feel as bad around her, he just had to put up with having to see her die 5 times a second which killed him inside.

He held her protectively in his arms, finding himself falling for her even deeper at her words. He'd never had some who care about him so much, it felt good. He deepened the kiss to allow her entrance, just the taste of her was intoxicating.

Pressing their already touching bodies closer together Ciar plunged her tongue into Lucifer's mouth stroking his tongue lightly with her own. She breathed heavily though her nose, the kiss being more important at the moment than oxygen. Her whole body was responding to the toe curling connection. She felt warm and protected. For the first time in a long time, Ciar felt safe with another human being.

Quickly growing addicted to his taste the Irish teen tangled her tongue with Lucifer's, losing herself momentarily in the moment of perfection. With oxygen quickly becoming a necessity Ciar drew back and leaned her forehead against his. "We should probably talk about this, eh," she panted, lips swollen from the kiss.