Chapter 17

Here's chapter 17; it's a rather long one, too. You're welcome. Characters featured are: Miles and Deryn. Mua ha ha.
Disclaimer: Most characters and all settings belong to Scott Westerfeld, unfortunately. As it is, though, I owe the guy.

The entire ship was in a state of shock.

Not all for the same reasons, of course. In general, there was the loss of two airships--over eighty men in all, plus the beasts, including the great whales themselves. After that came the guilty shock of the fact that the Leviathan was untouched, every one alive. The zeppelin responsible had been too far away to harm the great whale.

Then there was Deryn Sharp.

She’d denied it as long as possible, but when rescue teams had gone out for survivors and found only two badly wounded riggers alive, she had moved on to a terrible anger. There wasn’t really one thing--or person--in particular that she was mad at, but there was certainly one that had accumulated more than his share, and for more than one reason.

Alek was avoiding her.

For good reason, too. So she avoided him. The Leviathan was a big airship and it was easy to find things to do that kept her away from him. The flechette bats always needed fed or the strafing hawks reharnessed, and she even went up in a huxley for a few hours. It was nice to blow off some steam and curse loudly with no one around to hear.

The dummkopf.

Everything was a barking wreck, and there was nothing Deryn could do to control it. Events were spiraling from her grasp like a Clanker aeroplane felled by an aerie of strafing hawks. Breaking apart and tumbling to the dark ground below in a million pieces of Deryn Sharp. What was left of her was like an empty shell filled with... nothing. A hungry nothing that she needed to fill but couldn’t. It gouged pits into her stomach and stole her sleep. Fire had stolen her father and brother now, and she knew it was coming for her next.

She pulled her shaking hand out of the bag of grain and strung it around the bats’ nests.  Doing something at least helped her ignore the emptiness building inside her belly. Miles and Deryn were up in the higher of the nesting coves, at the tip of the nose, with Newkirk and Fitrzroy below. The boy wasn’t helping much, just staring vacantly like a pile of sod at the stretch of land that was spread out below them, hands twined around his head. His fingers tapped his hair, a twitch of indecision.

“Oi! Just because you’ve got me here doesn’t mean you don’t have to work, Wilson!” She growled. This boy was being barking suspicious. Against her will, Deryn was beginning to believe that he could be a spy. His accent wasn’t quite British, and his speech always sounded forced, like it was a foreign thing that took thought to do, and no boy was as barking quiet as him.

He didn’t answer her.

Deryn took a few steps toward him, “Did you barking hear what I said, you bum rag? You’ve got a bag, so get to work!” Her voice sounded harsh to her own ears, but she didn’t care. What right did this boy have to sulk around?

The boy was still standing at the edge of the nesting cove, still staring down at the water. Deryn was about to tell him to get moving again when she recognized the look in his eyes, and her heart beat went into overdrive, pulsing all thoughts of spies from her mind.

“Don’t do it, Miles,” she said warningly.

His face stayed impassive. “Why shouldn’t I? My brother is dead, and he was all I had to live for.”

“No. That’s not true, Miles. You have more things to live for than you think. More people living for you. If you jump, you’ll ruin everything you have.” Deryn said in a calming voice, trying to talk the boy down from the ledge.

He whirled on her, the tears glinting in his eyes belying the rage in the rest of his face. “Don’t tell me what I have, Mr. Sharp. You know nothing of what I’ve lost!”

She laughed coldly. “Don’t I? My brother died yesterday on one of those ships, Miles!” The sting of tears was blurring her vision now. Miles’s face became a blurry frown. “And I lost my father years ago! I’ve been where you are, Miles, and I know what a load of clart it is! I’m there now, too, but I know it gets better!”

“You still don’t get it!” his voice broke. “No one does, and no one ever will! Unless..” he trailed off, taking a long look at the water. Deryn’s blood pounded in her ears and her hands shook with adrenaline. This boy wouldn’t jump, not if she could help it. He spoke quietly, in a soft, high voice. “Someone should know.”

“What? Miles, don’t do it.”

The boy edged away from her and perched his toes on the ledge. “You see, Dylan, I’m a girl,” he said.

And jumped.

Deryn didn’t hesitate to react. She lunged for him and one hand clenched around the belt of the flight suit, the other wrapping itself on a ratline. Her muscles screamed as she was pulled in two, the rope digging into her gloved hand. Scrabbling for purchase with her feet, she clambered to a crouch and began to pull Miles up.

“No! Let go of me!” the girl shouted, trying to punch Deryn’s arm without success. Deryn tangled her boots in a rope and freed her other hand to take hold of the scruff of Mile’s flight suit. With a heave, she pulled Miles up the side so they were in a heap next to each other. Their legs hung off the side, and she kept a firm grip on the other girl in case she tried again.

Miles swatted at her hand. “Let go! I’m not going to jump anymore, alright?” She struggled to her feet with Deryn’s hand still on her belt.

“Go to the back of the cove and have a seat, then, and we’ll talk,” Deryn replied warily, poised to stop the girl if she made another attempt to jump and always staying between her and the open air.

“Did you hear the...” the girl asked defeatedly, searching Deryn’s face. She nodded, and Miles’s expression fell. “You’re not going to tell, are you?”

Deryn shook her head, laughter bubbling up into her throat.

“Then what are you going to do to me, Dylan?” Her eyes widened. “Please don’t...”

“You are one lucky girl, Miles,” Deryn said, gaining a certain pleasure from the terror on the girl’s face.

“Wh-why?” Miles was cowering back into the corner, pleading silently up at Deryn.

“Because,” Deryn started, smiling slightly, “I’m going to trade secrets with you. What’s your real name?”

“What?” she asked incredulously.

“I doubt it’s really Miles.”

“No, what did you say before that?”

Deryn waved a hand. “I’ll trade secrets with you, for the price of your name.”

Miles traced a circle with a gloved finger on her thigh, deep in thought. “I-I’m Melissa. Melissa Wilson.” She bit her lip.

Deryn smiled and held out her hand, speaking in her normal voice. “Nice to meet you, Melissa Wilson. I’m Deryn Sharp.”

“I know who you are, Dylan,” she didn’t take Deryn’s hand.

“No, you weren’t listening. I’m Deryn Sharp,” she emphasized her words by propelling her hand a little closer. Melissa took it reluctantly, and Deryn pulled her to her feet. “I’m a girl, too,” she whispered into Melissa’s ear.

The other girl jerked back, wounded. “I don’t believe you.”

Deryn moaned. “Don’t make me barking prove it.”

“How else could I know you’re not feeding me a load of lies?” Melissa challenged.

“Well,” Deryn said slowly, “What if I give you my razor and don’t shave for a week? If I were a boy, I’d have a beard by then.”

“Too long.”

Deryn cursed and unzipped her flight suit, unbuttoning her shirt just enough so Melissa could see her careful tailoring. “Is that barking good enough for you?”

She nodded sharply as Deryn zipped herself back up. “Yes.” Melissa then showed Deryn her own bound chest, and the girls silently agreed to keep the other’s secret. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Deryn Sharp.”

“Aye, it certainly is,” Deryn pursed her lips, the weight of a question pressing them together. “What about your brother... was Levi a girl, too?”

Melissa nodded solemnly. “It was Lauren's idea to come here and join the service. We were supposed to be going to boarding school in London, but Mom’s all the way home in New York, so she couldn’t stop us if she wanted to.”

“Of course you’re a barking American lass!” Deryn started to throw her hands up in mock exasperation, but stopped as a thought came to mind. “You’re not a Clanker spy, then, are you?”

“Excuse me? Of course I’m not a spy!”

“Aye.”

The shriek of a whistle called the two of them back down to the other midshipman, stirring up the bats, and Deryn’s moment of happiness was broken.

Her shoulders fell, and her boots dragged on the membrane.

Her brother was still dead, after all.

As explained on the Westerblog...

Here's what I was talking about. I drew the bodies and printed off the heads, with the exception of the one of me. That I traced off the computer screen because the printer spazzed.

Random Art and Such.

This first one is in need of a little context. On the white board in the band room, the teacher wrote that Dave Sharp would be here tomorrow, so I was like, "OMBS, Sharp!" and after class I changed the "ave" to "eryn", as you can see.

This next one is "The Elevator Scene" from Behemoth (by Scott Westerfeld). Or my version, at least. It sadly never made it on to the Westerblog, so it is here for your viewing pleasure:

 (Deryn, Alek, Lilit)

And this third and last picture has nothing to do with LBG, but is my sister, brother, and I dressed up as elves on Christmas Eve with our Grandpa.

Top: Megan. Bottom: Scott, Grandpa, me.

That's it! No chapter 17 quite yet. I've got to let 16 mull over in your heads for a bit.

CHAPTER 16!!! (Yes, even I think this is worth all-caps)

Here is Chapter 16. And I warn you, if you haven't read my re-writes to chapters 1 and 9 or chapter 12, you really should, as they play a big part in this chapter. And it will make a LOT more sense.
Disclaimer: I still own nothing.

If there had been one thing he hadn’t missed about being a middy it was the godless flechette bats.

They twirled around him in swarms, and every time their wings brushed against him, he shuddered. Singe was glad Deryn wasn’t doing middy’s duties again so she could be here to taunt him, and Fitzroy was off doing some altitude drills. Mr. Thompson had been left behind in France to compensate for added weight.

It was just him and Mr. Wilson, who was very quiet and kept to himself without his brother. Singe’s fist closed on a handful of figs, careful to avoid any protruding spikes, and he flung them as far from himself as he could. A new bosun had yet to be hired, so Singe had become the involuntary leader of the midshipman. Wilson accepted his command without complaint, quite unlike a normal teenage boy under normal circumstances, but these weren’t normal times in any manner of the word

Singe took a deep breath and reached into his bag for the last of the figs. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Wilson.”

The boy blinked at him a few times, and nodded. “We are still at war, Mr. Newkirk, no matter how close we may be to the end. War has its costs...” he trailed off and blinked a few more times, his face resuming an expression of stone. He threw one last fig and straightened his uniform. “Finished.”

“There was nothing I could do, Miles, and he died in a valiant way.”

Miles caught Singe’s gaze and held it was a cold certainty, but his voice shook when he spoke, “There is nothing valiant about death, Mr. Newkirk. And I should not like to talk about it. Please. It haunts my mind enough as it is without having to say the words out loud.”

The tears shined in his eyes, but his mouth was curled in anger. At what, Singe couldn’t tell. “Aye, Mr. Wilson. I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

He didn’t respond, instead hooking his legs in the ratlines and beginning to climb. Singe followed suit, and his arm was burning in pain and he was panting by the time they made it topside. “At this rate,” he mused, feeling the wind strong at his back, “We’ll be in Unst before sunset.”

They made their way to the tail to meet up with the other midshipman. “How high up are we?” Singe asked.

“Four thousand feet. We’ve dropped five hundred in the last two hours,” Fitzroy replied stiffly.

“We’re nearing Unst, and so we’re losing altitude gradually to avoid venting loads of hydrogen in one place, see?”

The middy brushed his hands on his uniform. “How far out are we?”

“The engines are at full ahead now, so I don’t think it will be more than a few hours. We’ll be called to prepare for landing soon. Fitzroy, you’ll glide to the ground and command the landing crews, and Wilson and I will stay here and cover anything that comes up from the ship.”

Singe ignored Fitzroy as he muttered something about laziness. At least he hadn’t refused outright, Singe reminded himself, which was an improvement.

Just as he’d thought, the crew began to prepare for docking within a few hours. Fitzroy was sent to the gut of the ship to ready a huxley, Miles had been sent to help the riggers topside, and Singe was told to check on the passengers, and while this was a ridiculous task, he did so without protest.

The lady boffin was in the deck with the captain, so he didn’t bother with her.

Deryn and Alek, of course, were already aware of their landing and had planned accordingly. They were watching out the windows of the middy’s mess, craning their necks for a glimpse of anything exciting.

“You’ll hardly see anything from in here, boys,” he said from behind them, and Alek jolted at the sound, the loris on his shoulder babbling some German blether. “How would you fancy the view from topside?”

Deryn was already past him on her way out the door, “I thought you’d never ask, Mr. Newkirk! Do you think the riggers would mind if I borrowed a flight suit?”

Singe rolled his eyes and Alek sighed as they fell in line behind the girl. “I’m sure they wouldn’t, Dylan,” he paused for a moment, “Did you hear which ships we’re meeting in Unst?”

“No,” the girl said over her shoulder, “Did you?”

“Aye. We’ll be meeting the Sorley and the Minotaur.”

She tripped on her own feet and stumbled to a halt. “You mean the Minotaur my barking--cousin--is serving on?”

Alek was trying to hide a grin. “The very same. Captain Hobbes and I are good friends and he was happy to do me a favor. I did, after all, save the ship more than once.”

Deryn smothered the former prince in a hug, knocking him back a few steps. Singe looked around to make sure no one had seen the unmanly gesture of affection, but they were all busy with their landing duties.

“All I get is a hug?” Alek was looking properly disappointed.

“Well, I’m not going to barking kiss you with Newkirk here to see,” she said, her cheeks flushing as she punched him in the shoulder. “Maybe later.”

Singe tried to push thoughts of what that could mean out of his mind and found a discarded flight suit to put on, hoping there were gloves in the pockets.

Deryn was in hers twice as fast as Singe, but Alek was having trouble. “I’ve got it,” he assured them, but when it became clear that he didn’t, Deryn shook her head at said a few curses but helped him anyway. “Thanks,” he told her defeatedly.

“Daft princes,” Bovril began cackling from his shoulder. “No good deed goes unpunished.”

Deryn raised an eyebrow and patted its head. “Now you’ve got it spouting poetic blether, Mr. Hohenberg.”

“Come along, or you’ll miss the whole landing!” Singe cut in, leading them up the ratlines and to the bow of the ship.

The Sorley and the Minotaur would be coming from the north, having just been in Iceland, so they would get the first glimpses of the ship on the horizon from the great whale’s head. Mr. Wilson met up with them, and Deryn gave his back a long, hard look and bit her lip.

Deryn didn’t even try to hide the broad grin that stretched from ear to ear on her face. The four of them stood in a row, the wind grabbing hold of their hair and flinging it in all directions, even the loris’s, who began to make small crackling and hissing noises.

The ships appeared suddenly, dots growing larger by the second. The sunset framed them from the back, a deep, blood red that seemed to consume them.

The sun didn’t set in the north.

“Oh, my God!” Miles yelled, voice up at least an octave. He stumbled back, gasping, “They’re on fire!”

In less than a second, Deryn’s and Alek’s eyes were as wide as Wilson’s. Singe’s gaze stayed locked on the burning ships as it rose in the heat of flame, but began to slowly dip toward the ocean. He’d been there before, burning, knowing that there would be no escape from the flames that licked your hair and arms, but for him there had been a bucket of ballast and a brave midshipman ready to save him.

For those men, there was nothing but the flames around them and the sea so far below that it would be as hard as stone. No one to save them from certain death.

Deryn was yelling at anything and everything, but Singe didn’t hear her. He was too entranced by the two shapes of bright orange that fell in slow motion. From where he stood, it looked almost peaceful, like a feather.

Miles helped Alek hold the hysterical Deryn Sharp, who had tears falling down her face. When she gave up struggling, she collapsed to the ground in a destroyed heap, and whispered two words, raw with pain and terror, “He’s dead.”

The VERY long awaited Chapter 15...

Here's the big one-five. Sorry it's been so long, but I've been busy.
Disclaimer: Scott Westerfeld owns ALL of this, and I have to tell you that in case SOPA/PIPA gets passed. Blech.
You remember all that happened in the last chapter, right? If you don't, you might want to give yourself a little bit of a refresher so you'll be back in the "Orion" mood. (That is the OFFICIAL name of my fanfic now, by the way.)

The Clanker engines had been nearly at full ahead for the last day, plugging along so fast that the wind topside was marvelously vicious. She felt the fingers of the wind tangling through her hair, and she leaned into the wind, begging for more.

“Should you be doing that, Mr. Sharp?” a heavily accent voice called from behind her, more Scottish than her own lilt. “You’re not even clipped into the ratlines.”

She looked down to see her safety harness dangling freely in the wind, and hastily attached it to a nearby line. “Thank you. It’s a fine day to be topside, isn’t it, Max?”

“Aye.” The rigger reclipped himself next to her and leaned forward. “I see the appeal,” he yelled over the wind, spreading his fingers and leaning to either side.

She’d made friends with him doing her skulking, and though he wasn’t the best source of information, he was a pleasure to talk to. He was the quiet type, really, and he thought about everything he said before saying it, like each word was a gift to be treasured.

His hydrogen sniffer snuffled along the membrane, pulling Max along a few feet before he got control of it, “Whoa, there, Zipper! Take it easy...”

“Zipper?” Deryn tilted her head. “What happened to not naming the beasties?”

He faltered, “I’d already gotten attached to the lass, so there’s no harm in giving her a name after that,” Max said carefully, reaching down to pat the sniffer on her snouts. “And haven’t you named that mole you carry around?”

Deryn’s eyebrows came together. “It’s a perspicacious loris, Max, and I wasn’t the one that named it. Some daft anarchist lassie did.”

“Oh, I see,” he chuckled lightly.

“What’s so funny?” Deryn asked.

“Me and my little sister have a joke we like to tell each other; ‘I see!’ said the blind man, and he  picked up a hammer and saw.”

She took a moment to process the words, and when she did she let her lips curl into a smile. “Very clever.”

“Aye, Mr. Sharp. If you would still like to hear it, I’ve got some things to tell you.”

She nodded.

“That Mr. Fitzroy likes message lizards,” he said simply, pointing to the midshipman who was meandering around a few hundred yards away.

“Is that all?” she followed him away from the bow so the wind was at their backs. He gave her a rascally grin to show he’d been playing.

“Really, though, from what I’ve seen, he spends more time with them than people.”

Deryn snorted. “Either way, that doesn’t surprise me.”

Max nodded sadly, “He’s a piece of work, en’t he?”

“Aye.”

“One more thing, Mr. Sharp,” he said slowly, eyes darted back and forth, making sure no one was around to hear. “All the ships that were attacked by the zeppelins have something in common.” His voice lowered so that it was barely audible over the wind. “All of them had midshipman that had been on duty less than a month.”

A cold finger traced its way down her spine. “Spies.”

“I en’t saying it’s true.” Max shrugged. “I’m just saying it could be.”

The rigger said goodbye to her, his words torn away by the wind as he was pulled along by Zipper. She waved half-heartedly at his back and turned to climb down the ratlines and find Alek to tell him the news. From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Fitzroy snatching a message lizard from the airship’s skin, looking it in the face. Just as she was lowering herself down the ratlines, she saw him hurl it off the side of the ship.

She blinked a few times, trying to process what she’d just seen.

Aye, Deryn thought sardonically, he likes message lizards indeed.

Egads! Chapter 14!

I was personally excited for this one. You meet Middy Miles!
Disclaimer: I own none of this.

Deryn was busy unloading all the boffin’s clothes, so Alek took their bags to the cabin they shared. It was just as small as he remembered, but now it had another cot on it, identical to his own. He slid Deryn’s trunk under it and placed his on his bed. For a moment, he stared out the window, reminiscing on all that had happened since he’d first been in this room.

And then he smiled.

The door opened with a click, and he turned to see Deryn, trailed by a small boy. A midshipman, Alek realized. He was Alek’s height, and almost as skinny as Deryn, with dirty blond hair and wide blue eyes. “Thank you for the help, Mr. Wilson. Unloading all her barking luggage and trying hold on to Tazza at the same time would have been bad.”

“Everyone just calls me Mr. Miles, Dylan, because my brother and I have the same last name so...” his face fell. “Nevermind. Just call me Mr. Wilson,” he said in a strange accent. It was both British and American.

“Alright. I’ll put in a good word for you with the captain, Mr. Wilson.”

His expression brightened fractionally. “Thank you.” Miles saluted and trudged out into the hallway.

“He’s a chatty one,” Alek said drily. Deryn crouched and retrieved her suitcase from under the bed.

“Give the boy a break, Alek, Newkirk only just brought back the news his brother’s dead.”

“Oh.” Alek bit his lip as Deryn began placing the folded clothes on a low shelf. “His brother was a midshipman also?”

“Aye. There was Miles and Levi. Americans who moved here to join the Air Service from what he told me.”

“Hmm,” Alek murmured, buckling the empty bag closed and kicking it under the bed.

“Dylan Sharp, we meet again,” Alek looked from the ground to the boy who had just walked in. He had jet black hair and sharp features which were currently set to scowling at Deryn.

“Aye, we do,” she said, her pleasant tone sounding forced only to someone who knew her well. “Life seems to have arranged itself nicely for you.”

“Oh, it has,” he took a threatening step toward Deryn and past Alek, his tone malicious. “And you, not even a midshipman anymore. Just a zookeeper.”

Deryn’s hands slowly clenched into fists, but she shook her head at Alek when he stepped to come to her aid. This was her fight with whoever this boy was.

“It’s nice that we’re on the same ship again at last,” she said, lacing her voice with barbs. It clicked at once in Alek’s mind, like the parts of a machined sliding into place. So this was Fitzroy, and Deryn was reminding him of when she’d beat him out for a place aboard the Leviathan.

Fitzroy ignored her. “And I’m sure we’ll be seeing much more of each other in the future.”

“Aye. We certainly will,” she smiled sweetly at him. “Don’t you have some flechette bats to feed or altitude drills to run, Mr. Fitzroy? I would hate to see you kicked off for a silly mistake.”

His lip curled. “This isn’t over, Sharp,” he snarled, but withdrew from the room in a flurry, knocking into Alek’s shoulder on the way. He waited until the boy was out of earshot to hiss in pain. Deryn spat out the window.

“That, my prince, was the charming Sebastian Fitzroy you’ve heard so much about.”

“Very charming,” he agreed.

“And you are very sarcastic today.”

“Oh, am I?”

Deryn didn’t answer that, just raised an eyebrow and shoved her suitcase under the bed.

“I’m glad to be back on the Leviathan,” Alek said, completely serious, “but why exactly are we here? I’m sure it has something to do with Singe, but--”

“Don’t question why the hand feeds you, Mr. Hohenberg, or it may just stop,” she said, and flicked a piece of hair from his face.

“Very philosophical, Mr. Sharp,” he shook his head, grinning smugly at her as a multitude of new strands fell in place of the single she’d removed.

“But I don’t see the harm in doing some skulking, eh? I’ve still got many friends here.”

Alek nodded, and they set off in different directions. Deryn was headed to talk to some riggers topside, and Alek was going to talk to the middies.

Luckily for him, they were all in the mess hall.

There were four of them, seated around the familiar round table eating the potatoes Deryn loved. There was a single empty chair, and Alek assumed that it was where Levi Wilson would’ve sat there, so he stayed standing.

“Alek! I see you still remember where we eat,” Singe said as he forked a potato into his mouth.

“Yes, I do,” he replied, and crossed the room to lean against the window. “I also remember that you all are the best source of information on an airship.”

Alek pretended to ignore the cold glare from Fitzroy.

“That depends what kind of information you’re asking about,” a boy Alek didn’t know said.

“Mainly what we’re doing here.”

“Well, shouldn’t you of all people know that?” Sebastian drawled. “You are, in fact, the one that doesn’t belong here, so you should have a reason to be.”

“Quit your blethering,” scolded Miles.

Fitzroy’s sneered, “You might learn to respect your betters, Mr. Wilson.”

“You’ve got quite a superiority complex, haven’t you?” Miles’s chair skittered along the floor as he stood up. “What makes you so much better than me?”

Their hands curled into fists at the same time.

“Calm yourselves!” Singe ordered, and Miles unballed his hands, taking a step back. It was clear that Singe was the leader of the middies. Except for Fitzroy.

“I’m not sure where to start, the list is so long,” he fixed Miles with a fierce gaze, “I’m stronger, faster, more intelligent--”

“That’s enough, Mr. Fitzroy,” Singe held a hand up to stop the other boy’s advance. “It is not the time or the place for this. I suggest you direct your anger elsewhere. Like mucking up the gastric channels, if you aren’t careful.”

Alek wasn’t sure he’d ever seen the boy so in command before. When it had just been him and Deryn, he’d always followed along like a dog, and Alek just thought he was always like that. Now, though, he was completely in his element defending Miles and talking down Fitzroy.

Admitting defeat, Mr. Fitzroy stormed out just as he had with Deryn. Alek found himself thankful he was nowhere near the doorway.

“That was...pleasant.” He said. Miles snorted and shook his head, and he and Singe took their seats.

“Aye, very. You can sit if you want,” Singe motioned to the recently vacated chair. “I suppose you still want some answers.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t have all the information,” he began, lowering his voice although there was no one around but the middies, “but we’re taking on lots of extra aerial bombs. So many that we have to stop in Unst at the very tip of Britain on our way to Norway to resupply our food because there isn’t enough room to bring it on now. You can guess why we’re going to Norway, I think, and we’ll be meeting up with two more airships in Unst for assistance.”

“Do you know which two airships?”

Singe shook his head, “I don’t think it’s been decided yet.”

Alek could feel a smile creep across his face. If Deryn still had friends aboard, then maybe he still had some influence. And it had been far too long since she’d last seen her brother.

Not chapter 14... but shuffle stories!

You all know what shuffle stories are, right? If you don't, I think I explained them in my very first post on this blog. These are all Leviathan, some only making sense if you've read my fanfic. Also, others have nothing to do with my fanfic. Whatsoever. But I won't tell you which are which, only leave you to guess as to what happens and what doesn't. I'm evil, I know, but you still love me. Muahaha!
Disclaimer: I own not the songs listed or the characters used. So basically nothing.

Lost! -Coldplay

Alek groaned, but cut off painfully.

“Give up now, Prince! You’ve no barking chance!” Deryn shouted, a smile playing across her face. Alek glanced from her face down to their arms, locked in a short stalemate.

“Just because I’m losing doesn’t mean I’ve lost!” he tried to sound confident, but it came out as more of a strangled plea. His arm inched slowly closer to the table. With one last heave, he tried to push the other way, but it ended sadly with his fist cracking against the wood.

Deryn jumped back and pumped a fist in the air. “Ha! Take that, dummkopf!” Alek noticed with a resigned sigh that the girl hadn’t even broken a sweat while it dripped freely down his face. “What, did I hurt your pride?”

“Just because I’m hurting--”

“Aye, doesn’t mean your hurt! You can be as barking philosophical as you want but it doesn’t change the fact you’ll be wearing a dress to the New Year’s Eve party. I’ve got just the parasol for you.” Alek winced. “Face it, Alek. You’ve lost.”

If You See Kay -The Script

“Where is she?” Jaspert’s eyes darted around the chapel at lightning speed. “She should be here by now.”

Alek coughed and adjusted his tie. “Probably the train needs repinned. You know she was never good with dresses,” he said, trying to sound calm for the older man.

“Right. You’re right. Just, if you see her, tell me, ‘kay?” Jaspert bit his lower lip, just as his younger sister did. In fact, as Alek looked next to him, there Deryn was, looking as beautiful as ever in a suit and tie, chewing on her lip furiously.

Suddenly the doors opened and Kaeline strode through. The organ tardily began to play, and the woman stepped down the aisle, not tripping on her dress once. 

“I see her,” Alek said, and Jaspert nodded, blinking a tear from his eye.

When Will My Life Begin? -Tangled soundtrack

Melissa threw the book at the dingy white wall. “It’s useless, Lauren! Completely useless!”

“Now, Liss, it’s not as bad as all that. We’re still young; we’ll have lots of adventures before you know it.”

She groaned. “When will my life begin?” Melissa asked defeatedly.

“Whenever you make it,” with a squeal of excitement, she rushed to the small shared closet. “And I know just how to do that!”

Melissa gave her sister a withering look. “Is this another one of your hair-brained schemes?”

“Yes. And you’re going to love it.” She paused. “Have you ever heard of The Perils of Pauline?”

“You want to be a film star?”

“No! She goes on air balloons and such, doing all this crazy stuff!”

“Oh, that. You know they’d never let one of us do that in real life. That’s a man’s job.” Melissa spat.

“So what if we went somewhere where no one knew who we are? We could be men.”

Melissa stared out the window. “Where would that be?”

“Great Britain! We could use our savings and catch a boat there. Cut our hair and wear pants and spit and curse and all the like! It would be marvelous!”

“And I suppose we could join the British Air Service while we’re at it.” She said drily in the fakest British accent possible.

Her sister whirled, either not noticing the sarcasm or not caring, “Brilliant! This is when our lives have finally begun!”

Zero Gravity -David Archuleta

The wind curled around her fingers like wisps of smoke. She turned to Lauren, “You were right. This is brilliant,” she said in a boy’s voice, British accent and all.

Lauren shrugged. “Of course I was right, Miles. I always am.”

Melissa bumped her shoulder. “Sure, Levi. But really, it feels like nothing could bring me down when I’m up here.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to start spouting poetic blether.”

Melissa ignored her sister. “It’s like the world just disappears. I get lost in the clouds, and time just stops. The edges fade away, and I’m not afraid of heights as we crash into the sky--”

“Quit your nonsense, Mr. Wilson, and stop dawdling, or we’ll never finish with the rest of the middies!” Lauren heaved herself up along the ratlines.

Melissa didn’t notice the burning in her arms and legs or the sweat trickling down her back. It was like zero gravity for her.

Bring You Down -The Script

His laugh was as cold as the ice shooting past below. “You’ll never win.” He shouted over the wind.

Singe shifted his footing on the air turtle and returned Fitzroy’s glare, “You see, Lance, that’s where you’re wrong. You stand for nothing, so you’ll fall.”

“I stand for everything, it is you who stand for nothing,” Lance Fitzroy spat.

Newkirk shook his head, “Wrong again.”

“How could I possibly be wrong? I could have no better cause to fight for. The Air Service betrayed me, you betrayed me, everyone but myself betrayed me, so now my cause is revenge, Mr. Newkirk!”

“Call me Singe,” he said, watching as the boy’s face lit with fury. “Revenge is the weakest of causes. The slightest push will bring it all crashing down.”

Singe brought up the air pistol in a flash, but he couldn’t look as he pulled the trigger. He heard the outward rush of breath from Fitzroy as he stumbled backward and fell to the cold landscape below.

Viva la Vida -Coldplay

Deryn felt a pang in her chest. “I used to rule world.” He said.

She cast him a sideways glance and squeezed his hand. “Not quite, you daft prince.”

“No, really,” he said, voice riddled with pain. “Everything was perfect. I can’t bear to think that I could be losing it all.”

“No! You’re going to be just fine! Come on, you’ve been shot before!” She began to shake, not from the frigid mountain air but from pure terror.

He laughed, but it cut off into a cough. Blood showed on his purple lips. Deryn wiped it away with the sleeve of her flight suit. “If you die on me, I’ll bring you back to life just so I can kill you myself.”

She knew how desperate she sounded.

“For some reason I can’t explain,” he started, but whatever he said after that was lost in a fit of coughing, and then he went silent.

Tears slid freely down Deryn’s cheeks. They froze there, and she didn’t bother to wipe them off. “We ruled the world together,” she choked.

Gives You Hell -All American Rejects

“Dylan Sharp, we meet again.” Fitzroy fixed her with a cold smile.“Aye, we do,” Deryn said, trying to be pleasant. “Life seems to have arranged itself for you nicely.”“Oh, it has. And you, not even a midshipman anymore. Just a zookeeper.”

Her face stayed impassive, but on the inside her anger was seething like the sea below at how he could seem so nice in front of the captain or a crowd of people but downright nasty with her. Two-faced, her father would have called him.

“It’s nice that we’re on the same ship again at last,” she put barbs in her voice, gently reminding him that she beat him for the spot on the ship when she’d been a midshipman for just over a week.

He took a deep breath, “I guess I’ll be seeing much more of you in the future, Mr. Sharp.”

She simply smiled sweetly at him and said, “Aye, I’m sure you will.” and walked away. Oh, yes, she was going to get hell from him, but she would give it right back.

Talk You Down -The Script

The boy was standing on a small ledge in the flechette bat’s nesting area, looking down at the sea below with a wistful look in his eyes. Deryn knew that look, and her heart beat went in to overdrive.

“Don’t do it, Miles.” She said warningly.

His face stayed impassive. “Why shouldn’t I? My brother is dead, and he was all I had to live for.”

“No. That’s not true, Miles. You have more things to live for than you think. More people living for you. If you jump, you’ll ruin everything you have.” Deryn said in a calming voice, trying to talk the boy down from the ledge.

He whirled on her, the tears glinting in his eyes belying the rage in the rest of his face. “Don’t tell me what I have, Mr. Sharp. You know nothing of what I’ve lost!”

“And you know nothing of my loss, boy.” Deryn met his eyes with a terrible look. “I went down that road once, and it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done to get back, but it taught me that no matter how barking hard life is right now, it will get better. But it can’t if you have no life.”

With one backward look at the sea below, the boy stepped away from the ledge and toward Deryn. “It can’t get any worse, that’s for sure.”

What the Hell -Avril Lavinge

“What the hell?” Alek whirled on her, rage painted on his pale face like a porcelain bowl.

“My thoughts exactly,” Deryn said hesitantly. “Look, I didn’t plan it, Alek! And he didn’t kiss Deryn or even Dylan. He kissed Dalia, and either way she has no feelings for him.”

Deryn could tell that it wasn’t getting through his hard skull, so she did the only thing she knew could convince him otherwise. She grabbed his jacket and spun him around to face her, and planted her lips on his, hard.

When she pulled away, they were both breathless. “See?”

“I’m not quite sure, maybe we should try again?” Deryn punched him on the shoulder, but kissed him once more anyway. What the hell was right, she thought.

I’m Yours -Jason Mraz

The Clanker’s blue-green eyes held his, gold flecks reflecting his own dark brown eyes but turning them a brilliant shade. “My ma always told me,” she started in careful English that made his heart contract, “that just because it wasn’t what you were expecting doesn’t mean it wasn’t everything you were waiting for.”

“I don’t understand what you mean,” Singe said.

“I never expected that I’d have to be up here in the mountains, working alongside men to do what I was destined to do, but it is exactly that, and I couldn’t be happier. I never thought I’d be captured by Darwinists, but here I am, and something feels right about it.”

He hesitated before speaking, “I know what you mean now. I never dreamed that I would want to kiss a Clanker, but here I am, and I’ve never wanted anything more.”

Rachel’s eyes widened, but she let him step forward, “I’m yours.” he whispered softly against her lips, and in that moment he finally felt at home.