Kirkland's POV

I sit at my desk, reading documents and taking a look at the maps Matthew had recently finished. I swivel around in my chair and stare out the window at the ocean, thinking back on the previous night.

The feeling of knowing I could've done whatever I wanted and she couldn't have done anything about it was surprisingly exhilarating.

What surprised me the most was the fact that— I didn't. I couldn't.

As I pulled on her waistband, I looked up at her face, calm and trusting. My gaze lowered to the necklace around her neck, the green jewel almost matching the shade of my eye. I gently lifted up her head and unclasped the locket from her neck and set her back down. Sitting back on the edge of the bed, I dangled the necklace in front of my face, "This must be what he's been on about."

I sigh, turning my gaze back to the girl, disgusted in myself. I fixed her trousers on her hips and buttoned up her blouse before I noticed she had something in her pockets. I reach in one, pulling out a small, wooden horn. I turn it in my hand curiously, the details in it were absolutely stunning. In her other pocket, I find a handful of berries. I examine them in my hand, recognizing them as the White Baneberries from Toby's supply. "Clever," I smile, returning them to her pocket before walking over to my desk, cracking open a bottle of rum.

That one bottle had slowly turned to two, to three, and eventually I had lost count and passed out in my chair.

As if to pull me out of my daydream, Toby storms through the door, a growl in his throat, "Arthur."

"Finally," I roll my neck, standing to take off my heavy coat, "I need something for this headache."

He stomps up to my desk and slams his hands down on the desk, quite uncharacteristically. "He specifically demanded that no one touch her."

I look up at him from my chair before standing, meeting his poor attempt at an intimidating gaze. "And that's exactly why I didn't."

He grabs my collar from across the table, pulling me closer, "I saw the mark on her collarbone, Arthur. You put your hands on her."

"I didn't do anything to her," I sneer, grabbing his wrist with my hand, forcing him to release me.

"None of her clothes were removed?" He hisses.

"Not a single piece," I assure him, "In fact, I fixed her blouse and buttoned it up for her."

His harsh gaze slowly softens in relief, and he regains his composure, "I see."

"I'm sorry for worrying you, dear cousin," I jest, "I will admit, I did get slightly carried away before I caught myself."

"I'm glad you did," he huffs, "You could've ruined the entire mission."

"I did find these," I hold up the locket and the small horn I had taken from her, "This necklace must be what he's after. Not sure what this horn is for, but it will fit right in with my collection."

Toby shifts his weight and looks me in the eye, "You— didn't drink anything after she woke, did you?"

"... How did you know she tried to poison me?"

"She left the jar of Baneberries open on my desk."

"And here I thought she was clever," I roll my eyes with slight amusement. "What are we going to do with her? Throw her in a cell and forget about her?"

He shakes his head, "We have a long journey ahead of us. We can't keep her in a cell; she'll quickly become malnourished."

I cross my arms, resting my head on the back of the chair, "She'll have to earn her keep, then; just like the rest of them."

"That's a much better plan," the corners of his lips peak slightly. After a moment of silence, he walks around my desk to stand next to me, placing a hand on my shoulder, "Promise me that you will complete this mission."

"Toby?"

"I care about you, Arthur," he smiles down at me sympathetically, "I'm tired of seeing you force yourself to be something you're not."

I turn my gaze from him, sharply. "... I promise."

His hand peels back the fabric of my shirt from my shoulder, "Looks like that bite wound is getting better."

"Yes," I nod, still thinking about his last comment. "It is." 

(Name's) POV

Leon leads me to the rowdy mess hall, which is on the right side of the hallway opposite the stairs to the desk. "So, this is obviously where we eat," he says bluntly, gesturing to the rows of tables, each one seating at least ten men. He leads me to a seat and let's go of my arm, "Let me grab you something." I watch his back as he walks off, and tightly clasp my hands in my lap, noticing that all of the men around me had gotten quiet and started whispering amongst themselves. Twiddling my thumbs, my heart starts to pound as I hear heavy footsteps come to a stop behind me.

"Did the Captain have a good night with you?" A rough voice whispers in my ear. I jerk my head away, looking up to see one of the men that held me during my penalty in the duel. "Now that the Captain has had a turn," he grabs my shoulders and turns me around, grabbing my hips and laying me down on the table, "It's our turn."

Before I could even scream for help, the man was in a head lock. "I swear to the Gods, if you touch a single hair on this girl's head, and I'm sinking this ship with you still in it."

"L-Leon! What are you-" the man tries to reason with him, but he simply tightens his grip and chokes him harder.

"You can't sink the ship!" Another shouts in the man's defense.

"No, I can't," Leon hisses, "But I can stop fixing it. It'll have canon holes and a broken mast before long." He leans in really close to the man in his arm, "and you will be alive when the sharks sink their teeth into your flesh because you're too much of a coward to end things yourself." The man gurgles and veins start popping out of his head, and Leon releases him. He looks at me with his cold amber eyes before grabbing my wrist and pulling me from the mess hall, down the hallway, and into his room. "I'm sorry about them. They're absolute savages," he says, slamming the door behind him. He slinks around the room for a moment, and I take the opportunity to snag a small dagger from his dresser and push it up my sleeve. "You ok?" He asks, looking at me.

I don't respond— I just stare at the floor.

He notices, walking over to me and placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. I peer into his slightly sympathetic eyes before he speaks, what I think are going to be words of encouragement and comfort: "I got you a biscuit."

"Oh," I am taken aback as I slowly take it from his hand. "Thank you."

"Well, now that I've shown you the Mess Hall," he returns to the door and opens it, gesturing for me to leave. "It's been a pleasure."

I nod, and walk out into the hallway. Before I can even thank him, the door shuts behind me. I listen to his footsteps fade as he goes deeper into the room, and I take the dagger out, twirling it in my fingers with a smirk as I make my way to the stairs. As I ascend to the deck, I'm blinded by the light of the sun. I walk to the edge of the boat, one hand above my eyes, the other tightly gripping the biscuit Leon gave me. My breath escapes me as I sigh in awe, taking in the endless miles of bright blue water below me. I hear a seagull caw above me, and as I turn my gaze upwards to look at it, I see a Matthew at the top of the mast in what looks like a barrel. He holds a small golden telescope to his eye as the wind ruffles his long blonde hair. He seems to sense my gaze as he lowers the telescope and looks down at me, waving slightly. I watch him exit the barrel and swing down the mast on the ropes, landing a few feet from me. "What are you doing up there?" I ask as he makes his way to me.

"I was assessing the land; I'm the Sea Artist of the Siren." I raise my eyebrow, unsure of what exactly that means. He places a hand behind his head, "I make and adjust maps for the Captain."

I didn't realize that was a position on a pirate ship; I had never thought about it before— but that could be useful.

I attempt to hide my devious thoughts with a simple question, "How does one make a map?"

His face glows, "Y-You want to learn about Cartography?" The way he was beaming at me makes it seem like no one really takes an interest in learning his trade. "Follow me!"

He grabs my hand, pulling me down the stairs and under the deck once again. As we walk down the hallway, Toby exits the Captain's Quarters. "Where are you taking her?" He asks in a slightly defensive tone.

Matthew stops abruptly and releases me. "She expressed an interest in Cartography, so I was taking her to the Navigation room..."

His gaze softens, "Perfect. Arthur wants her to earn her keep, as she will not be traveling as our prisoner." He steps aside and allows us to pass through, and Matthew leads me all the way down to the Captain's Quarters before turning left, where I'm greeted by another flight of stairs.

"This is the way to the Navigation room," he explains, gently leading me up the stairs by the hand. We come upon a door and we enter the room quietly.  The first thing I notice is the lack of decor in this room; it's quite bare other than a small table and a giant paper map hung on the wall. "Jack?"

"Oi!" On the far side of the room is a door leading outside, and Jack pokes his head in. "What is the little Sheila doin' in here?"

"Captain said she needs to earn her keep," he explains, showing me to a seat at the small table, "She's going to be learning Cartography, today."

"Good on ya," with a small salute and a cheeky grin, he disappears back out into the sun.

"Now, the Art of Cartography." Matthew is beaming again.

He goes on to explain that he doesn't make new maps. When the ship visits new places, he updates old ones and uses them as references to draw new ones; it takes a keen eye, an extensive knowledge of the stars, and there's a shit ton of math involved. "That's what this grid is for— to help map with longitude and latitude," he points at the grid lines along the map. "And as far as coast lines, it doesn't have to be entirely accurate. Pirate maps are mainly for mapping out water, islands, and ports where we are safe."

"Is any port safe for a pirate?"

"If they're paid enough, they'll let us harbor our ship there for repairs— but Leon would be able to explain it more in depth. He is our Carpenter, and the one who deals with ports and the ship's functionality."

"So, Leon is a carpenter," I say with a turn of my wrist, "What do the rest of the inner crew do?"

Who do I have to get close to to get off this damn ship?

"We'll, as you know, I'm the Sea Artist," he taps his hand on his chest, "Jack is the Navigator. He is in charge of steering the ship, and we work together to map out new routes and make sure we stay on them. Toby is the First Mate and Doctor— he's in charge when the Captain isn't around and is responsible for the health of the crew." He averts his eyes from mine and hesitantly continues, "And, Alfred is our Quartermaster."

"Oh, I know," I suck my teeth, "He's the Captain's dog."

"The Quartermaster is in charge of distributing things equally amongst the crew," he smiles, "Rations, work, prize, and occasionally, gun powder and punishment."

"Hold on," my hand flies into the air to stop him, "You're telling me that the Quartermaster is an actual position on every ship? Not just a nickname he came up with for himself?"

"He uses it to intimidate people," Matthew sighs, "but he's truly one of the most reliable men on this ship."

I roll my eyes and rest my chin in my palm, "Let's just get on with the maps."

We spend all day in the Navigation room, and I attempt to retain all of the information he spews at me. As nightfall begins to come upon us, Jack finally comes in for the day, his exposed skin glowing from his time in the sun. "You should get some rest," he says, a slight look of concern on his face, "This is hard work. It's mentally draining."

"I never realized how difficult and complex map making was," I say, running my hand over the map I was helping Matthew draw. "The skill it takes is phenomenal."

"It's one of the most hardest jobs on the ship!" Jack pats the Sea Artist on the shoulder, shaking him as he talks, "You're a lucky gal, training under Matthew, here."

"Is that right?" I say.

"Matthew is the most competent Sea Artist in the world. People from all five Kingdoms risk their titles to get their hands on one of his maps."

"Why are they risking their titles? It's only a map."

"Yes," Matthew twiddles his thumbs, "But supporting piracy, in any way, is against the law."

I sigh— it makes sense. "Wouldn't they recognize that it's your map, since it's superior to others?"

"I sign the maps using a fake name, and use an informant to do the in-person exchange. The only one who knows my true identity, other than my crew, is that informant."

"How do you know the informant won't sell that information?" I question.

"They're good at keeping secrets," Jack says mischievously, hushing me with his finger.

"That," Matthew's lips curl, deviously— I've never seen him look so dark and twisted, "And I have collateral."