Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained

German Translator
MoriMemento

XI.

When Englehorn had arrived back at his cabin onboard the Venture, he had kicked off his boots and slowly peeled off his clothes. He filled a basin with cold water, keen to wash away the dust, grime and blood that clung to his skin. He bathed the angry wound that was cut into his thigh, cleaned it with a liberal, painful, dose of iodine, and then bandaged his leg and donned a fresh set of clothes.

Afterwards, he laid back on his bunk, a glass in one hand and a cigarette in the other. The liquor burned his throat and created an artificial heat inside his numb body. He had no further plan of action. He very much doubted that the next move was up to him.

Glass drained, cigarette smoked, he closed his eyes and searched for sleep. As time dragged by, all he could seem to manage was to doze between fitful dreams. Strange dreams. Dreams of home. And the island. And of Kong. And of her. The snapshots of a dozen images swirled sickeningly around his head.

Perhaps he slept, perhaps not, he couldn’t tell, he pushed himself off the bunk to refill his glass when he suddenly became aware of the hurried sound of footsteps. Funny. He’d almost hoped for sirens. He braced himself. This was it then. Except it wasn’t.

Perhaps he was asleep after all.

“Hear me out before you throw me overboard!”

But he barely heard the words. He simply looked into Mary’s anxious face and ached. She stared back at him intently. It confused him- she confused him. He had said goodbye. Given her a chance to escape. He had left her in Jimmy’s care. Charged the boy with the task of looking after her, seeing as he couldn’t be trusted to do so himself; he expected the police at every moment.

“Where is he?” Englehorn demanded slowly, blue eyes narrowing. Mary took a backwards step to block the cabin’s exit. She spread her arms across the doorway to stop him.

“Jimmy? Hiding from you, I expect.” She shouldn’t be smiling as she spoke, but she was… just faintly.

“He has some sense then.”

“He has a great deal of sense,” she agreed. He didn’t trust the soft tone of her voice, nor the warm expression in her eyes. “Don't be angry with him. He told me exactly what happened during your voyage. He told me a lot more than you did,” she chastised him gently.

He knew she placed a great deal of importance on words. She attributed them a strange power. He had always favoured action, but he waited almost hesitantly to see if her enlightenment had changed anything.

“You didn’t tell me you’d turned the Venture around. You didn’t tell me that you save Carl Denham and the others twice.” Mary shook her head. “You let me believe the very worst of you.”

“You were very willing to believe it.”

“I was hurt,” she admitted.

His eyes flicked automatically to her forehead. A fairly stunning bruise accompanied the cut there today. She shouldn’t be here. She should be somewhere safe, recuperating, away from him.

Mary waited for his gaze to meet hers again.

“I mean it hurt that you didn’t trust me, but the things I said to you-” she looked ashamed. It was not an expression that he had often seen her wear. “I was wrong.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter,” she breathed as though it pained her. “You saved my life, and I never thanked you.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

“But I want to!” she said urgently.

He didn’t want another debt owed to him, and if that was her only reason for standing in front of him, filling one more corner of his ship with the memory of her presence, then it would have been kinder if she had stayed away. Nothing fundamental had changed. She needed to remember that fact.

“I still took the job for the money.”

“Doesn’t everyone?” she said with a sigh. She looked suddenly weary. “But why? That’s what I still don’t understand. Why this job?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It matters to me!”

The strength of her voice surprised him. It was not that he had never seen the determined glint in her eyes before, but he had always bulldozed her into submission before.

“All right.” Englehorn breathed out a long drawn breath. “No more half-truths,” he agreed, quietly, speaking mostly to himself. Mary waited expectantly; her whole attention focused on him. He dug his hands into his pockets and met her gaze. “I was planning on selling the Venture.”

He saw the surprise, no the shock, register on her face, but he continued his story before giving her an opportunity to respond.

“Maybe to buy another ship, maybe not, it doesn’t matter anymore, but I had begun to tire of the weeks and months at sea. I thought I might turn my hand to something more settled, but plans like that require money. A great deal of money.”

Mary’s face had lost its colour completely.

“You love the sea.”

“I loved the freedom of the sea after I left Europe. I loved the wide open space- the lack of gunfire and mud like quicksand and death…” He was silent for a long moment, reflecting on that last quality. “But the land has inducements too.”

“Does it?” Mary whispered.

“You don’t think so?” he asked softly, staring at her for a long moment, remembering how it felt to kiss her. “When they trace this mess back to me I’ll probably lose everything.”

Mary looked startled, as though that thought hadn’t yet occurred to her, but he needed her to understand. She licked her lips and glanced away.

“Don’t wait for them to trace it back to you.”

“Run?” Englehorn was a little impressed with the speed of her solution.

“You could. You could take the Venture and disappear.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

“Why not?”

“A number of reasons,” he said slowly. “A number of people,” he corrected himself.

Mary frowned. She looked conflicted. “Captain Englehorn-”

“I thought you’d stopped that?” he smiled slightly. He rocked back on his heels, testing the weight of the confession that rested on his tongue. Surely there was something he could offer her besides disaster? “Don't you see? You win, Mary,” he breathed, ever so softly. “I’m caught.”

She looked more shocked than she had done when he’d told her that he’d considered selling the Venture. The one difference being that instead of turning a ghostly white her face flooded with colour.

“That’s absurd.”

“Why?” he asked. It was his turn to smile, although he did realise she was going to bolt if he wasn’t careful.

“A hundred reasons!”

“Give me one,” he murmured, leaning closer. She blinked up at him and stammered.

“O-one?”

“Mmhmm.” He nodded, waited, but he didn’t play fair. He never had. He had never believed he would. He cupped her chin and traced the soft fullness of her bottom lip, listening to her breath hitch. He sighed and shook his head. “Tell me what you want, Mary.”

She didn’t have the words, yet, to give an honest answer, but her body betrayed her desires. She leant into his touch, arching to follow when he coaxed her forwards, but the gentle pressure of her hand curled against his chest was his first real hint of victory.

“Thomas…”

He growled, and then his mouth was on hers, and he could finally luxuriate in the feel of her in his arms. She tasted of coffee and cream, and his body was licked with flame every time she moved against him. He splayed one hand against the small of her back, and knotted the fingers of the other in the soft thickness of her hair. Her nails curled against the back of his neck and she mewed softly when he pulled away too soon.

She blinked up at him with those eyes of hers that reflected his own. Her heart had called to his- her soul whispering gently that he take the time to look in her direction. Her past was a broken mirror of his own, but he would have her future.

“Mary-”

She stopped him. Pressed her fingers to his lips, drew a deep breath and gathered up her courage.

“You asked me what I want. What I want, just this once- I want something for myself.”

He waited. He wanted the words. Her words. He needed her to give them to him. Because then he would know that she meant it. He was still waiting when she lifted her eyes to meet his own.

“Ich liebe dich, Thomas.[1]”

Four words, four words he hadn’t heard spoken together for twenty years. Trust Mary to bait her trap with honey. He smiled slowly against her skin, and pressed a fierce kiss against her open palm.

“Ich liebe dich auch,[2]” Englehorn told her seriously, perhaps more serious than he had been about anything in a long time.

He leant for her lips, but she tilted her head back, eyeing him with a mixture of hope and hesitation. It was hard, agonisingly so, but he let her find what she was looking for in his eyes. The smile that blossomed on her lips had never graced her face before. It was his and he meant to claim it.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, brushing his lips against her forehead.

“Wonderful,” she laughed.

He smiled predatorily. “Sehr gut.[3]”

He kissed her again, more deeply this time, coaxing from her the secret treasures of her soul. He pushed the coat off her shoulders and drew her into his cabin, closing the door behind them.

If life had taught him anything it was that these precious moments were rare and fleeting. There was always some new horror waiting around the corner to steal the joy from a man’s heart. When happiness came along it was all you could do to hang onto it with both hands. That was what he intended to do.

He didn't know what the future held. He didn't know what the next day held! She was taking a huge risk on him, but he was determined to reward it. He would trust her judgement on this venture. Over the years, he had learnt that risk brought loss, but just occasionally, it brought the most amazing gain.

The End

German Translations By
MoriMemento

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Special Thanks to my Reviewers
ograndebatata -- RebeccaAnn -- marinawings -- MoriMemento
Thank you so much. You helped keep me motivated!

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To all of my Readers
Thank you for your time and patience.
Writing this story for you has been a complete pleasure.

[1] I love you, Thomas.
[2] I love you too.
[3] Good