The Lady and The Commander - Chapter Two
"Historical" A/U
Not my characters/not making money.
This chapter rated PG.
"How would one report the situation this morning, Mr Tigh?" Commander William Adama asked as he made his way up the steps to the bridge of Galactica.
"I would say there are no significant problems amongst the crew to report. Smooth sailing, sir."
"And our passengers?"
"See for yourself, Commander." His first officer gestured towards the deck directly below. Lady Laura Roslin stood leaning over the railing with her head tilted back seemingly taking pleasure in the sensations of the wind. Her hair was willowing behind her like a kite's tail dancing. At this angle, she was creating the illusion that she was flying. It was an old piece of trickery which he and his crew had performed many times but not in such a shapely fashion.
"It is a good thing we have only recently been docked in port and are beginning our journey to sea," Mr Tigh observed.
"Yes," he agreed grimly. "Hopefully the men have been sated by their sweethearts in quite a satisfactory manner that such temptations do not turn their heads at this time. I would not wager such complacency if the same vision tempts them in a few months time though."
"That is true. Did you visit Carolanne during your break, Commander?" he asked slyly.
"I do not think this should concern you, Mr Tigh."
His old friend laughed and slapped him on the back.
"You did not! You are in big trouble, my friend, big trouble."
0.0.0
Lady Laura Roslin inhaled the freshness of the air into her lungs with one long deep breath. Her senses were completely overloaded by her surroundings.
She could taste the saltiness of the water as it teasingly used the breeze to speckle droplets of the sea onto her. She eagerly endeavoured to catch the drips with her tongue, eliciting memories of a time in her youth when she had danced amongst snowflakes with her sisters.
The sound of the water beating against the strong wooden base of the boat had comforted her in the night allowing her to sleep soundly without her usual frequent disturbances. Now she closed her eyes and just as keenly absorbed the varied daytime sounds of the battleship: the deckhands whistling and singing whilst they went about their morning chores; the occasional barked order by one of the officers to his subordinates; the seabirds calling to each other as they swooped and dove for any scant morsel the sailors chose to toss them.
She opened her eyes again and noticed a pod of dolphins was now frolicking amongst the wash near the stern of the ship. She watched them for a long while, delighting in the beauty of the sleek creatures. Eventually, however, they swum off to chase the glistening horizon. A horizon which taunted with the promise of land, and yet she knew there would soon be none reachable in any direction for many days at least. Funnily enough, this idea did not strike her with fear at all.
Even more curiously, she was even enjoying the way her stomach moved in tandem to the pitch of the ship as it rose up in defiance of the height of the waves before crashing back down to stamp its authority over the water.
She felt at home and alive for the first time in many years.
Slowly, regrettably, she moved back from the railing and into a shaded area. She knew from experience the scorching heat of the sun would cause an uncomfortable burn if she continued to allow it access to her skin.
From her new position she had an unfiltered view of the Commander on the upper deck and she took this opportunity to carefully study his appearance in the daylight.
The Commander's body was stocky and solid, cutting a most imposing figure in his uniform. She detected an outline of muscles on his upper arms and chest, which even his tunic could not conceal. There was no doubt he had been granted a masculinity which she found intoxicatingly appealing.
Suddenly, as if he sensed her scrutiny, he turned and settled his gaze upon her.
She lifted the weight of her hair off the nape of her neck. The heat of the sun had suddenly become stifling.
Slowly, deliberately, Adama climbed down the ladder from the bridge and made his way towards her.
"Lady Laura," his baritone voice rumbled once he reached her location. She mentally added the strong timbre of his voice to her list of his pleasing aspects.
"Commander," she addressed him politely. She let her hair fall around her shoulders once more, linking her fingers behind her back and leaning forward to take advantage of his proximity to consider further his features which she had been too short sighted to perceive fully when he had been at a greater distance.
She studied his weathered face which was scarred from some infliction known only to him. She decided almost immediately, however, that this supposed deficiency was quite minor, especially when one was distracted by the magnetism of his eyes.
In fact, she was glad she had had the chance to meet the Commander the night before in the muted lamp light of his quarters. If this had been the first time she had laid eyes upon him, she would have blamed the sun's reflection of the sea for the perfect blueness of his eyes. As it was, however, she had the advantage of knowing that the Gods had naturally gifted him with his most extraordinarily coloured irises.
"We need to arrange a meeting with your doctor and my navigator for this morning some time," he was saying. "Would you know where the man may be?"
"He is not my doctor," she quickly corrected him. She had only met the doctor the day before and, for some reason unknown to her, she was not sure she trusted the man. "I believe he is still slumbering."
The Commander frowned, pulling out a fob watch from his pocket to check the time. He made no comment regarding the doctor's procrastination. Instead he asked about her companions: "Mr Tigh tells me there are eight others in your party."
She nodded. "I am accompanied by a Priestess-"
"A Priestess?" he interrupted.
"Yes," she said. "She offers me spiritual guidance and religious counsel."
"I see," he said in a quiet voice, giving her the distinct impression that he did not approve of Elosha's inclusion in their journey.
"She has her own servant. I am also escorted by a peer from King Richard's Court who has studied protocols extensively."
"Protocols?"
"Yes. The King insisted that the Viscount will be able to assist us in any encounters that would require diplomatic liaison."
"I see. The king did not think an old man of the sea would offer a tactful approach in such encounters?" he asked dryly.
She attempted to smother a small grin that threatened to grace her features at the Commander's recognition of Richard's insult.
"Where is this Viscount? Is he also slumbering?" he asked sardonically.
"No, but I do believe he is suffering the effects of a malady associated with sailing."
"I see," he repeated his earlier sentiment. "I will inform the ship's doctor."
She nodded, and then went on with her introduction of sorts of the remainder of the group: "The Viscount has his own manservant and, I, myself, am accompanied by three attendants."
"Three?" he cried. "You travel with three servants? You do not find this number excessive, madam?"
"I prefer to call them attendants, sir."
"You may call them any name you wish, madam," he said in a clipped tone, "but I find it obscene that your privileged background allows you such indulgences."
She bristled at his attack, unaccustomed to being judged so harshly. She was also quite taken aback that he had the audacity to openly disclose his low opinion of her. "I think you know nothing of my background, Commander," she bit back, "so I would be gratified if you would keep your suppositions to yourself. When you are acquainted with my attendants, I think you will find it quite obvious they are neither mistreated nor suppressed in any manner."
His reply was a mere grunt, which proved to only raise her hackles.
"Are you the type of man who judges others on where and with what they were born?" she asked, effectively now accusing him of prejudice.
"Do not be fanciful," he snapped at her.
"I believe the military has a chain of command that purports rank amongst the enlisted in a much more rigid manner than most of the privileged circles I involve myself in," she pointed out with an arched eyebrow.
His eyes narrowed, but he said no more about her attendants, making her believe that, this time at least, she had won their war of words. He did, however, present his next request in such a way that it sounded much more like an order: "Maybe you and the doctor can make yourselves available to meet in my quarters in one hour's time." His dismissal was complete when he turned and began to make his way back to the bridge.
Before he could take more than a handful of steps, she decided she wanted the last word. "I will try not to be tardy," she drawled sarcastically and watched his back stiffen in reaction, although he neither turned nor spoke.
0.0.0
Laura silently seethed at Adama's arrogant assumptions and accusations as she stomped off to ready the doctor for their scheduled meeting.
"Madam," the Viscount's manservant bowed politely when she arrived at the entrance of the gentlemen's quarters.
"Good morning. I was wondering if you could please awaken Doctor Baltar and ensure he is prepared for a meeting with myself and the Commander in one hour's time."
"Of course, my lady," the servant answered politely.
"The meeting will be in the Commander's quarters," she told him.
"Yes, my lady. I will ensure that the doctor is in attendance."
"Thank you," she said turning to go, then stopped and turned back to the tall young man, acknowledging her still simmering temper had made her probably sound quite superior and rude. "I'm sorry. I am not acquainted with your name," she said pleasantly.
"They call me Billy, ma'am."
She smiled, oddly realising she found this young man's nature instantly likable for some reason. This was despite the fact she found his master to be an absurdly inane and idiotic man.
"Thank you, Billy," she said. "I am sure we will talk again."
Chapter 3