Lily glowers from where she sits on the bed, watching James walk about the room and wrangle together his effects. Her hand rubs across her swollen belly—an agitated rhythm punctuated by each footstep James takes, his heavy steps thundering on the wood.
"I don't like this," she says matter-of-factly for what feels like the dozenth time, her teeth nervously chewing on her lip.
Earlier that morning they'd noticed an unmarked vessel trailing them. At first it seemed harmless, but after some purposefully questionable maneuvers on The Minnie's end, it seemed all but confirmed that this mystery vessel was indeed following them.
Instead of giving them the opportunity to catch up under the blanket of night, James (with input from Lily and Sirius both) had decided to turn around and meet them head on. It makes her skin prickle at the thought, being so reminiscent of their encounter with the HMS Ascension all those years ago, but as they make their way towards Eleuthera to see the Potters, it seems a prudent idea to keep any potential scuffle at sea.
If only she wasn't on bloody bed rest.
Gradually—and with much vocal complaint—Lily had finally acquiesced to her captain's insistence that she take a step back from her usual duties as her pregnancy progressed, but this week had seen her relegated to their quarters more often than not, based on Remus' medical advice.
It was frustrating and humiliating, but James had been so attentive, so thoughtful in holding all his meetings in their quarters so she could still participate in the ship's business. Through the aggravation, her heart beat a little stronger for him.
But she couldn't be there for this, and she tried not to worry, but found it nearly impossible.
She watches as James sheathes his sword, carefully picking up another and crossing the room to the bed. Kneeling down beside her, his eyes glimmer with determination and hope, but there's a hardness to them that speaks to the experience he's gained these last few years at sea. It's a silent promise that he'll not be caught unaware again.
Warm knuckles caress her jaw as his lips meet hers slowly, softly.
"I know you hate this," he acknowledges, his voice hushed even though they're the only two in the cabin. "I know you're frustrated and it's hard for you to stay down here, but it's what's needed right now." He places her sheathed sword beside her in the bed and lifts his free hand to rest next to hers on her swollen belly, thumb gently brushing back and forth as he rests his forehead on hers.
Lily squeezes her eyes shut, swallowing down the bitterness. "I feel so useless like this," she whispers, voice wobbling with constrained emotion.
James pulls back and looks at her so quickly she's blinking to make sense of his sudden absence. The hand that had been so soft along her jaw now tilts her chin to look at him, eyes alive with fire.
"You are not useless, Lily. Don't you ever say that."
Her heart flutters and she knows it's true but the pent-up frustration bubbles forth as she huffs a sigh. "The Prewetts and MacMillan are still laid up sick, how am I supposed to feel when we don't know what our odds might be?"
"You trust in us like we trust in you, Evans. You're doing more than any of us right now." His eyes break from her and look to where their hands rest above their child. "Not long now until you're back on your feet and running us all ragged."
She lets out a stilted laugh and his gaze is back on her face, roaming over every feature before he places a kiss to her forehead.
"You have your sword in case you absolutely need it, but please don't move unless you must. We've got this situation under control—older and wise, et cetera."
He stands to leave with a final squeeze of her hand, and Lily watches him go, her frustration burning off and giving way to fear as it claws at her throat, as her heart pounds against her ribs harder, faster.
Her voice is high, pleading, and he turns around quickly, brows furrowed and shoulders rigid at the sound of her distress. She looks at him and sees the man she met all those years ago in her husband before her, sees how the time at sea has changed him—molded him to someone whose instincts have only sharpened and evolved—sees the captain she swore to follow to the ends of the earth and how formidable he's become.
She knows he'll be fine, but the fear is still here, nestled in her chest right above where their child grows.
His face softens, shoulders relaxing as he realizes she's not in discomfort.
It makes him laugh, and he gives her a brilliant grin before opening the door and stepping into the hallway, his response of Aye, Potter, ringing in the empty room with her.
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Happy one-year anniversary to restless waves rise and fall's completion! :)