I could have groaned as I swiveled around to face the loud pirate who insist on giving me a headache.

I push away from the railing as Clay descends the stairs, following close beside Peter. Clay's long strides quickly bring him to stand in front of me not Peter, the one he in fact called upon. Compared to my rather small frame his is doubled my own, I have to strain my neck to even look up at him.

"What is it mate?" Peter looks all too eager to leave my side, he has no problem matching his height.

"The Captain, he wishes to speak with you, " His gaze finds mine, "Sorry Mouse, you get to stay here." He also happens to wink, could he be any more dramatic.

I wanted to correct him on his use of a pet name but the reaction from Peter halted my retort. He seemed well irritated and quite perplexed, not in least directed toward me but Clay and exactly at the right moment when he decided to use his idea of a pet name.

To ease his mind I disregard his remark, "Still with your idea of a pet name I see, how wonderful." My sarcasm is clear to even the dullest of minds, surely Peter can comprehend.

Before Clay can claim another one of his snarky comments, Peter chimes in, "Shall we proceed to the Captain."

Clay claps his hand on Peter's shoulder, "Aye, well mate it so happens that he wishes to speak with you, utterly alone."

Peter shrugs off his hand before he glares at him, "I will be back shortly Evie, do not stray far." His gaze falls upon me, I couldn't help but here the small efficient on the use of my proper name. That most certainly was directed towards Clay once again, but he is unfazed smirking at his mate with a secret exchange.

"Yes of course." I reply to him, he nods his head then leaves me, a last lingering glare for Clay as he passes.

I find myself walking back to the confined space of the storage room, a hand takes my arm, pulling me away before I can enter, "No mouse, this way." I sigh, allowing Clay to drag me along.

He guides me to the lower decks, the stairs creek at our footsteps, I am greeted by the smell of men who scarcely bath, the smell of molding wood, and the lingering distasteful odor of rum. How am I not surprised? The men's quarters is to the left, there hanging are the clothed beds, with netting swaying with the ship. To the right was a dark hall, with several doors that led to unknown rooms.

"Come this way."

Why I feel the need to follow him down the darkly lit hall is a surprise to myself, seeing as though I know nothing about this man. We pass several doors before halting at the last one, its dark wood is carved in a intricate design, someone took the time to decorate such a door.

It is unfortunate that it must endure the men on this ship.

He unlocks it, letting it swing open loudly, he leaves disappearing inside. I stand still not finding the means to want to enter.

"Are you to just stand there?" His figure does not leave any space as he stands there in the door frame.

"It depends on the manner of why we are here." I state.

"Just come inside, will ya." He disappears once again so I follow him.

He lights several white candles on either side of the small space, that have melted into one. It lights the room, revealing a bed in the far right corner, next to it a writing desk then a long curtain dividing the room separating half of it to cover whatever is behind it.

"It is where I sleep, you can stay here until the time for you to leave is near."

By his words I want nothing more than to go back where I came from, "Where will you sleep?" If he even dares say here, I shall lose my head.

"You shall not worry, I don't have much time for sleep."

I nod several times, my nerves somewhat deflating, walking inside the small space I examine the several papers on his writing desk, "Thank you." I mutter.

He does not address my thanks, "If you feel the need to walk about, do so on deck, where eyes are less scarce."

"Your concern for my safety does not fit your character Clay, I am disappointed." I close my eyes, facing the desk so he does not see my face, I regret ever saying that and encouraging his remarks.

"Do I not fit the title of a pirate, is that what you mean."

"Quite so."

"Well then I am sure to remember to insight some anger when the time comes."

"That's better I suspose " He returns with a snort yet he still stands at the door.

I sit on the edge of the small bed, brushing away the mess that is my hair, the heat causes it to stick to my neck and face.

I hear Clay sigh as he leans on the door frame, he watches me struggle with my hair.

"What?" I ask, questioning his frustration with me playing with my own hair.

He walks inside, "Stand, I will help you control your long untamed mop."

I laugh, "You are to help me, I don't believe you." He is either to play such a joke for solely his pleasure or he is in fact not jesting.

He crosses his arms, "Do you want help or not?"

I bite my lip, keeping my mouth shut as I nod my head.

He sits next to me, the bed dipping under his weight, "Then turn around, for I am to make a complete fool of myself."

I roll my eyes, doing as he says, I find myself obeying his every command, which is a terrible thing to admit.

I push all my hair behind me, leaving him to brush his fingers through it gently. I hold in the slight shiver that spreads through my figure as I let him touch me.

"Are you to braid it?" I ask curiously, all though I believe it is to distract me from his touch.

"Yes, a simple one at that."

"Where did you learn to do such a thing, usually women earn such tasks." Rudy or my mother braided my hair, I never learned.

"I had a little sister, with no governess I was to take care of her."

I turn, disrupting his work, "Had." I question. "Where is she now?"

He eyes turn distant, "She is gone."

"I do not quite understand." I ask, confused.

He stands abruptly letting my unfinished braid hit my back, I flinch away from him as he reaches the door. "Are you short of hearing, is it not clear for your dull ears." He mocks me from earlier, mimicking my exact words.

Before I can reply with an apology he leaves in a rush, back to his duty as first mate.

Blast! Evie, you are indeed a nosey little rat, I guess his use of a pet name is rightfully placed. I shouldn't have been so careless.

I stand, closing the door to his quarters resting my head there for sometime before returning to the bed, leaving me with only my thoughts to accompany me.

I steady myself as the ship sways, it leaves my belly in circles. I never liked sailing, a strange experience to endure leaving only your trust in men and the sea to control the outcome of your life.

My untamed thoughts wonder to Peter, leaving me with questions only he can answer. Ones he does not wish to answer, him and Clay despite their strained relationship agree to lie to the Captain in order to help me find my father. I highly doubt Clay would be persuaded to risk his life for the likes of me, so Peter either is paying him or they have some other arrangement that does not involve me.

Peter's family is wealthy, he could easily conjure the money to persuade a person like Clay.

His idea that I could locate a lost Royal ship is absurd, what do they think, I have any talents as to read a map. How could they possibly convince the Captain that I do indeed know where a lost ship is.

Sighing I lay back, enjoying the feel of something other than the hard floor. Not worrying about my clothes I find myself tired. As the sea rocks me asleep I dream of my father, dreaming of his return.

The days here are long and filled with singing as the men set sail and listen to every order from their first mate.

Clay has since spoken with me, do to my unhinged mouth.

Peter saw the tension, commenting about it just a short time ago, "Did you say something to upset the first mate?"

I deemed it not my place to discuss Clay's sister to him so I simply replied with a no, "He wishes to focus on tasks at hand, why should he speak with me."

Peter of course shrugged it off, not caring in the least.

We sit on the steps leading to where Clay stands above, his focused gaze never leaves the sea as he sails to our destination, "You never answered my question, why am I to know where a lost frigate ship is."

"It was the only way Gnash would allow us to accompany him, get him to believe in something that does not exist."

"And if he is to find out about your little plan to deceive him what shall you do."

"Well now if we find your father Evie, I am sure he will do what he must with him."

I smile at the thought, "Yes well let's hope it can be accomplished."

Peter elbows me as if we were children once again, it is to be an all out war until Captain Gnash request I join him.

"Come girl." Shocked by his sudden approach I stand, Peter does the same, "Nay Peter, you are to stay here, only the girl is needed."

Peter is quick to act, "The deal was that she stay with me, even when you requested her."

"Aye I did but no deal was sealed in blood now was it lad."

Peter is about to yell, only I stop him, we do not need to start anything too rash, "I will go with you." I look to Peter, "I'll be alright Peter."

Gnash walks off, indicating I follow, Peter grabs me before I can, "Do not utter a single word?"

"He is bound to ask me something." I argue.

"If he asks about the lost frigate ship just say it was last seen in Nassau, say you have nothing else." He rushes.

"Alright." I leave him, following Gnash. I enter his quarters nothing has changed since the last so I find myself in the same spot from before.

"Sit."

I do as he says, sitting opposite him of the table. "Why am I here?"

"Where is it?" He folds his hands to rest on the table, not caring of my question. We stare at each other, he wanting answers as I indeed wanted to run.

"The ship you mean."

"Aye, the ship." He says impatiently.

I regard Peter's words, "The last it was seen was when it departed Nassau."

His dark intense eyes meet mine, "I do not recall askin you when it was last seen nor uttering words of where it last parted."

His very rude use of words will not persuade me otherwise, does he really believe speaking to me in such ways will get him answers he seeks.

I find myself braver than usual, "Why should I tell you where the ship is, you'd just drop me off on any island then you'd go and find that ship." No, no Evie please shut up.

He chuckles deeply, it sounds more like a grumble as he stares intently on my face, "Next will you be uttering words of parley."

"I am sorry but I know no such word." I know what it means, however he does not need to know.

I stand, the sound of the chair screeching as I push myself from the table pains my ears, "If we are quite done I would like to rest for a bit."

He slams his hands on the table, which in fact startles me, "Mark my words girl, I will know the whereabouts of that ship and you shall no longer be of use. Nor Peter."

The threat is clear as it rings through my ears, he will kill us it is only a matter of time.

I whirl around, not wasting a single moment to escape the reins of the Captain. Does Peter know he threatens to kill us even after he finds this imagined frigate ship?

Leaving the confines of the Captain's quarters only leads me tumbling into Clay.

He catches me easily, before even the thought of falling passed my mind.

"Sorry..I was just on my way out." I pull my hands from his arms, shielding them behind me.

"What did you tell the Captain?" He doesn't really look at me, he short of just passes his gaze over me.

"What Peter insisted I tell him, that's if he asked me anything?" Which he has, but Nassau was not where my father was last reported to be, Port Royal was.

He folds his arms, "Did he ask you anything?"

Why did he care, "He did, he wanting the whereabouts of this so called lost frigate ship." The letter, the one my father sent he did mention a lost ship but it was one of no importance. I wonder if Peter gained the idea from the letter.

"Your reply."

"Nassau, I told him it was last seen there."

He is about to leave when I stop him, "Clay, the manner of which I spoke of your sister-"

"Leave it be Evie." He leaves, only I wish he would have stayed.

I lay on the scratchy bed, closing my eyes as I come up with ways to convince Peter that Gnash admittedly said he was to kill us. Peter surely will not believe me, even if he does what will that do.

I rub my sore eyes thinking of my mother, my father and of Rudy. I hope my mother is well, I hope Rudy can forgive her nephew on his absurd plan. Above all I hope my father can forgive me for working with pirates.

❇

"Wake up!" Hands shake me, jousling me awake from my deep slumber.

My heavy lidded eyes open to find Peter at my side, the dark room consumes him, only that of his eyes and the rest of his face is seen.

"This all could have been a dream but you decided to pop on in, how lovely of you to join me at my time of bloody need." I shield my eyes hating to watch his face turn into a smirk.

"We have made port, land awaits you even if it is for a little while."

I peek under my arm, "You are not lying, are you."

He rolls his eyes, "If you will not believe me then get up, you are as lazy as the men who work."

I push him away, climbing off the bed which in fact Clay sleeps on. With a hand rubbed through my long untamed hair, I stand.

"Let us go then." I do not need to be alone with him any longer, does he know that this is in fact Clay's quarters.

Lifting my skirts that are heavy with water and dirt, I walk up the steps to the night sky. A three day journey at sea with these loud, smelly men has drove me partly mad.

A quiet place is surely needed to rest my swaying head, I stop at the sound, like a cannon going off obliterating everything around it, that's the sound I hear coming from the brightly lit island.

What comes off of that obscenely large island is not quiet nor dull or calm in anyway, shape or form.

I remember Clay's words on how he saw Tortuga, for their own pleasure.

The docks are filled with men and women of all color and size, yelling and laughing. The women cling to men as the men cling to the women wandering off to who only knows where and to do who only knows what. Men off in the distance, bottles in one hand and a pistol in the other face off only to stare at one another only to laugh the next. There's singing, lots of it, not a single one the same as it reaches the ship. This place is a bit of a mad house, worse than that its a lunatics island tightly smashed up in a nutshell full of insanity.

Someone stands just behind me as I stare intently at the island, "Welcome to Tortuga."

••••••••••••••

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Until next time,

-Ash
Xoxoxo

^Captain Gnash^